“Who put it together for you?”
He stroked the side of his nose with his thumb. That was something new. In the old days, Peppi hadn’t time to affect mannerisms. “What do you want?” His voice was high pitched and soft. Rather like the tones of a Jap and the sound of it brought back a host of memories. I’d forgotten that high pitched, hissing voice.
“What a success story,” I said, admiring him. “I remember you a couple of years ago. And look at you now!”
“What do you want?” he repeated.
I paused and regarded him. The dead pebbly eyes told me that this wasn’t going to be a love feast, so I decided to get to the point.
“Where’s Kelly?” I asked.
“Kelly?” he repeated and frowned. “What Kelly? What are you talking about?” There was a thin edge of anger in his voice.
“There’s a fellow called Kelly I want to get in touch with,” I said, half sitting on the big oak reading table. “I hear he wanted to find you, so I thought if you two had made contact you wouldn’t mind putting him in touch with me.”
He studied me carefully. “I don’t know any Kelly,” he said, at last.
I shrugged, “Well, that’s too bad. Okay, then I’ll drift. I was under the impression that you did.”