Dialogues of the Dead

27^ The dance finished and Dalziel led Cap off the floor to where her son was standing. 'Refill, luv?' he said. 'No thanks, I'm fine,' she said. 'Summat to eat, then?' 'No, really.' 'Think I'll have another nibble,' he said. 'Need to keep my strength up if I'm going to be searched later.' With a wink at Piers, he moved away. 'Searched?' said Piers, alarmed, recalling his fantasy about a ring of cops watching the house. 'What's he mean?' His mother looked at him fondly. 'Darling, you don't want to know,' she said. In the buffet room, Dalziel looked around till he saw what he was looking for, a white-haired woman with a strong-jawed, rather severe face who was keeping a close eye on a flock of young helpers. 'How do, luv,' said Dalziel, approaching. 'Any more of that lovely SahnetorteY She looked at him with interest and said, 'She sprechen Deutsch, mem HerrY 'Just enough to ask for what I like,' he said. 'And I like that cream cake. Best I've had since last time I were in Berlin. Where do you get it round here? It 'ud be worth a long trip.' 'We do not get it,' she said scornfully in heavily accented but perfectly clear English. 'I make it.' 'Nay! Well, blow me. You make it yourself! Now, hang on, I bet you're Frau Penck, the treasure old Budgie was telling me about.' 'His Lordship is very kind.' 'Didn't he say you were Charley Penn's mam?' Dalziel went on. 'By God, making cake like that and being Charley's mam, . you've a lot to be proud of. Always talking about the lovely cakes | his old mutti makes, is our Charley.' 'j 'You know my son?' she asked, i 'Aye, do I. Often have a drink with him on a Sunday lunchdme, j but he usually has to cut it short, to go and see his old mam, he j always says. Well, I can see why he rushes off now. It must do i| you good to know that someone as important as Charley puts you '| top of his list when it comes to choosing what to do. He's a big | man, tha knows. He can pick and choose his company. It's incredible the way he's succeeded. More British than the Brits! You'd never know he weren't a bred-in-the-bone Yorkshireman. You must be right proud to think you can get a man like this to come running just by snapping your fingers.' She did not reply to this but gave him what Dalziel thought of as the universal female significant look which implied that her lips were sealed but if they weren't, then she might have something to say which would bowl him over. He pressed on. 'Last Sunday, I recall, it were my birthday and I was pushing the boat out a bit, and I tried to persuade Charley to hang on a bit longer to have a spot of lunch in the pub. They do a lovely sticky toffee pudding there, but when I tried to tempt Charley, he said it couldn't compare with the sweets his old mam would have ready for him. He's always talking about the grub he gets every Sunday when he visits you. Well, now I know why. Go on, make me mouth water, what did you give him?' 'Last Sunday? Nothing,' the old woman said. 'Nothing? Not even Sahnetorte'?' said Dalziel. amazed. 'Nothing at all. He did not come. It was no matter. I do not expect him. He comes when he will.' 'You're sure he weren't here last Sunday?' said Dalziel, looking at her doubtfully. 'Of course I am sure. You think I am senile?' 'Nay, missus, I can see you're not that. My mistake, he must have said he was going somewhere else. Now, about the cake .. .' 'I think you'll find it's over here, Andy,' said Cap Marvell. He turned. She was standing regarding him with the kind of expression he'd expect to be printed on his own face if he heard a known villain, caught with his hand in a church poor-box, claiming he was making a contribution. 'Oh aye. So it is. Nice talking, missus. I'll give your love to Charley.' 'So,' said Cap as they moved away, 'this is how you leave your work behind, is it?' 'Nay, lass, I were just passing the time of day.. .' 'Lying about your birthday? That's bollocks, and I've got a great eye for bollocks.' 'Well, you've had the practice ... Jesus, that hurt!'