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She pulled a package of cigarettes from her handbag and lit one, blowing thin plumes of smoke in our direction impatiently. “Derek says you've nearly found Jimmy.”
“We are closer to our quarry,” Holms said quietly.
“You'll need to hurry up. I've got a zit. My doctor says it's HDS.”
It was not an ailment I was familiar with and I told her so.
“Ah well, I'm with BUPA. I'm suffering from Handbag Deprivation Syndrome.”
“A tragedy indeed,” Holms sympathised, “but one I hope to soon alleviate.”
“Tell me where he is. Is his credit card safe?”
Holms pushed his plate away from him. In time, Miss La Crème, but first I must ask you some questions.”
“Questions! Questions! Where's Jimmy?”
She was obviously distressed and my calling demanded that I set my dinner aside. “Calm down, my dear.
Would you care for a drink?”
“Ooh yes,” she giggled, “I'll have some shampoo, if you've got any.”
The imbibing of hair care products was new to me. “Shampoo?”
“Champagne, you old fool,” she advised sharply.
“Oh, we don't have any …” I was about to apologise when Holms ordered, “A brandy and soda for Miss La Crème,
Wilson.”
“Brandy?” Miss La Crème sniffed.
“ It is French, my dear and very expensive.”
This brought a smile to her pouting lips. “Oh well then.”
I left my place to get her drink while Holms began his questioning. “Tell me, Miss La Crème, had Jimmy been getting an unusual number of phone calls just before his disappearance?”
“Yes, now you mention it, he was always on the phone.”
“And do you know who those calls were from?” Holms asked smoothly.
“He always said it was the papers, chasing him for an interview. Oh God, do you think it was his auld floozy?”
“It is possible,” I answered, handing the young lady her drink. She gulped at it and immediately gagged.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?”
“Not drunk. Only to relax you a little, my dear, you’re stressed.”
“Yeah, relaxed enough for you to get your mucky paws on me.”
I was appalled that she might think such of me but Holms came to my rescue.
“I can assure you, Miss La Crème, that Wilson takes his bromide regularly, you are in no danger.”
“Why does he want me relaxed then?”
“To aid your recollection,” I explained.
“I was hoping that you might have overheard one of his conversations with said old floozy,” Holms said.
“No, I was under strict orders not to listen to him on the phone in case he was discussing tactics.”