"The body? Yes. I think it is. But we can't go further without the formality. I'll deal with that."
"And sh'll I...?"
"Get on to the Stables Market. Make the connection between Davey and this magician if you can. Once you do that, get him in for questioning."
"I think we've got our first real break, sir."
"I hope you're right," Lynley replied.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BARBARA HAVERS TOOK THE GLOW-IN-THE-DARK HANDCUFFS with her to the Stables Market, which was, as suggested by its name, an enormous old artillery stable of grimy brick. It ran along a section of Chalk Farm Road, but she entered by means of Camden Lock Place, and began asking the whereabouts of the magic stall at the very first shop. This was an establishment selling furniture and fabrics from the subcontinent. The air was acrid with the scent of patchouli, and sitar music blared forth from speakers insufficient to handle the volume.
The shop assistant didn't know anything about a magic stall, but she reckoned Tara Powell over at body piercing could direct Barbara wherever she needed to go. "Does fine work, Tara," the shop assistant said. She herself had a silver stud beneath her lower lip.
Barbara found the body-piercing stall without any trouble. Tara Powell turned out to be a cheerful twentysomething girl with appalling teeth. Her bow to her employment consisted of half a dozen holes from the lobe to the top of her right ear as well as a thin gold ring through her left eyebrow. She was in the middle of driving a needle through the septum of an adolescent girl's nose while her boyfriend stood by with the chosen piece of jewellery in his palm. It was a thick ring not unlike those used on cows. That, Barbara thought, was going to be attractive.
Tara was nattering on about-of all things-the Prime Minister's hairline. She apparently had done some considerable research into the subject of the burden of power and responsibility and its effect on hair loss. She could not, however, apparently apply much of her theory to Lady Thatcher.
It turned out that Tara did indeed know where the magic stall was. She said that Barbara would find it in the alley. When Barbara asked what alley, she said the alley and rolled her eyes in such a way as to communicate that the information ought to be sufficient. Then she turned to her customer and said, "This'll pinch a bit, luv," and with one deft thrust she drove the needle through the girl's nose.
Barbara beat a hasty retreat as the girl screamed, slumped over, and Tara cried, "Smelling salts! Quick!" to someone. It was, Barbara thought, an edgy kind of employment.
Although Barbara lived not far from Camden High Street and its markets and although she'd been in the Stables many times, she hadn't known that the narrow passage in which she finally found the magic stall had a name. It wasn't so much an actual alley as it was a gap, lined on one side by the brick wall of one of the old artillery buildings and on the other by a long row of holdings from which vendors sold their wares: everything from books to boots.
The place was dimly lit by bare bulbs dangling from a cord that ran the length of the alley. They broke into a gloom that was accentuated by the sooty stable wall and the darkly stained stalls opposite. Not all of them were open, this being a weekday. But the magic stall was. As Barbara approached it, she could see the same oddly dressed man she'd earlier seen unloading his van in the street. He was doing a rope trick to entertain a group of enthralled young boys who, instead of being at school, were gathered round his stall. They were just about the size-and the age-of the dead boy in Queen's Wood, Barbara noted.
She stood at the side of the group, watching the magician interact with the boys at the same time as she studied his stall. It wasn't large-about the size of a wardrobe-but he'd managed to cram it with magic tricks, with practical jokes along the lines of artificial vomit suitable for laying on mum's new carpet, with videos of magic acts, books on illusions, and old magazines. Among the items for sale were handcuffs identical to those Barbara had in her pocket. They were part of a sideline in saucy bedroom toys that were on offer as well.