––––––––
"IBROUGHT TAKEAWAYthis time." Josh Ingram looked like death warmed over. His eyes were red-rimmed and heavy-lidded and his shoulders bowed in a tired slump. A large bag, with the logo of Matisse's favourite Thai restaurant, dangled from his fingers.
Matisse had hardly dared to believe it when Josh had texted him an hour earlier, asking whether he could come over. He'd sent a reply, not convinced it wasn't all a giant joke. But now Josh was here, and he looked too tired and worn out to be anything but real. "Are you planning to go to sleep standing in the hallway?"
"I was waiting for you to invite me in, actually."
"What are you—a vampire? Give me the food and get inside." He'd hoped to have Josh's company again. Wished for it. Only to feel as incredulous and embarrassed as he'd felt in Montgomery's office, and to find it equally difficult not to treat himself to a peek at Josh's arse as he turned to shut the door. It was stupidity squared. He wasnotthat shallow.
He set the bag of food on the dining table, before he headed to the kitchen for plates and utensils. When he returned he found Josh standing like a statue beside the coat rack.
"Come on in," he coaxed. "You look as if you haven't eaten in a while. What do you want to drink? Beer?"
"God, no. I'd be asleep in a jiffy."
Matisse assembled water, apple juice, and Red Bull. He thought of making coffee, but decided to leave it for later. He opened the takeout containers and smiled when he saw green curry, spring rolls, sticky rice, noodles, and an extra-large box of Moo Ping. "Who gave me away?"
"Rigger, of course." The corners of Josh's mouth turned up and the lines around his eyes eased as he smiled. "He shared all your secrets: favourite foods, favourite restaurant, and your passion for Moo Ping."
"He deserves a pay rise." Matisse dug in, beyond hungry all of a sudden and so very glad to be sharing a dinner table with Josh again. "You look as if you haven't stopped working," he said when he'd pulled the salty-sweet pork from three of the skewers.
"I don't think I have." Josh was only picking at his plate of green curry. "I wanted to finish this case and then ask you out to dinner somewhere, but—"
"What happened?"
"Hit a roadblock." He shrugged.
"How?"
"I was looking through CCTV footage from the gala until I found our thief. I then used the cameras to follow him to where he'd left his car."
"That can't have been as easy as you make it sound."
"It's not," Josh agreed. "He took three taxis and a bus. All the way out to a multi-storey car park at Stratford International station. When he left there, I thought I had him. After all, I had the number plate of his car."
"The car was stolen? What? I don't watch much TV, but I do read books!"
"Yes, the car was stolen. So I then followed him on the traffic cams... all the way to Scotland."
"So, where's your roadblock?"
"I still don't know his name. Or his address."
"Why not?"
"He left the car in a car park and walked to a cul-de-sac. Didn't come back out, so I'm hoping he went into one of the houses rather than over a fence somewhere. Still, it's six houses, no cameras. We can't just go kicking the doors in willy-nilly." He scrubbed his hands over his face. "I'm at a dead end, and I thought... I dunno... that seeing you would take my mind off the whole mess."
Matisse worked to hold back his grin. He loved it that Josh had come to him. But it wouldn't do to say so. "That's... flattering, I suppose."
"You don't have to rub it in."
Josh's discontented grumble sent a shiver up Matisse's spine. He'd met men with deeper voices. But none of them had made him feel like Josh did. "Can't you... I don't know... stake the place out? Knock on all the doors and see who opens? Pretend to be a gas inspector? Or an antiques buyer?"
"You're reading way too many mystery novels."
"I remember having guys knock on the door saying they bought old furniture and did we have something we wanted to get rid of."
"Sure. That used to be a thing ten-fifteen years ago. Not many conmen do it these days. They do their planning on the Internet. And most people don't open their doors to strangers."