Part 8 (1/2)

Instead he skirted the flowerbeds and went around to the back of the house.

The windows here were dark and there was no sign of life. But when the Doctor tapped discreetly on the kitchen door, a light instantly came on and the door opened a crack. A dark eye glinted in the crack and then the door swung fully open.52.

The small Mexican woman the Doctor addressed as Rosalita smiled at them, her teeth pearly and perfect in the darkness. 'Come in,' she whispered. 'We don't want to disturb Mrs Oppy.'

'No, we certainly don't want to do that,' said the Doctor, stepping over the threshold. Ace followed him into the cool darkness of the tiled kitchen. The smell of cooking lingered in the room, garlic and onion fried in b.u.t.ter, sweet and hot peppers and meat and cinnamon. Ace's stomach started rumbling again and she cleared her throat loudly to cover the sound. Rosalita ignited one of the gas burners on the big stove and the kitchen was illuminated by the pale blue glow of the hissing flame. Shadows pulsed gently on the wall, moving in amiable caricature of the people in the room. The little Mexican woman moved to a large brick-red ceramic ca.s.serole sitting on the table. She patted it affectionately. 'Here you go.'

Ace touched the side of the ceramic pot. It was still warm. Rosalita smiled at her, dark eyes glinting with tiny dancing reflections of the gas flame. 'You eat it pretty soon, huh? While it's warm.'

'You bet,' said Ace. She lifted the lid of the ca.s.serole and inhaled a sweet, spicy, complex fragrance, rich with the smell of cooked beef and a hint of something unidentifiable. Rosalita playfully swatted at Ace's hand with a wooden spoon and firmly placed the lid back on again. 'Keep it nice and warm, huh?' She turned and opened the wooden door of a cupboard set into the whitewashed wall. 'I'll get you a basket to carry it away in. You can bring me the basket and pot back tomorrow, huh? Or whenever. No hurry.'

'We shall return everything promptly,' said the Doctor.

'Thank you for preparing this feast for us.'

'My pleasure.'

'I'm sure we shall all enjoy it.'

Rosalita paused in her search for the basket. She emerged from the cupboard and looked at the Doctor. 'All? You sharing the food with someone else?'

'Indeed we are. Do you know Ray Morita? Cosmic Ray. I'm sure you must do. He certainly made quite an impression at the party last night.'

Rosalita straightened up so quickly that she banged her head on one of the shelves in the cupboard. 'Careful,' said the Doctor. Rosalita emerged from the cupboard, rubbing her head with one hand and clutching a large wicker basket with the other. It might have been the shock of the blow to her head but Ace noticed that Rosalita's hand holding the basket was trembling.

'Sure, I know old Ray,' said Rosalita abstractedly. 'He's sure got an appet.i.te, that boy. You wish him good health from me, huh?' She went to the table and lifted the heavy ca.s.serole clumsily while trying to slide the basket under it.

The ca.s.serole trembled in her grip.53.

'Here, let me help,' said the Doctor, moving swiftly towards the table. But he was a fraction too late. The big ceramic pot slid out of Rosalita's grasp, off the edge of the table, and crashed to the floor, hitting the unforgiving tiles and shattering with a sound like a bomb going off. Ceramic fragments and greasy gouts of chilli spattered across the kitchen. Ace looked on, appalled. There was a splash of chilli on the toe of her shoe. She inspected it with dismay.

This had been her dinner.

'What a pity,' said the Doctor.

Rosalita looked on the verge of tears. 'Never mind. I have some left over from the party. This I cooked for you especially, but the leftovers are good too.

I pack some of that for you, huh?'

Kitty Oppenheimer appeared in the kitchen doorway, holding a magazine in her hand. Ace noticed that it was a copy of New Yorker New Yorker with numerous ring stains from wet gla.s.ses on the cover. 'What on earth was that noise?' with numerous ring stains from wet gla.s.ses on the cover. 'What on earth was that noise?'

She peered at the Doctor, Ace and Rosalita. 'It sounded like the gadget being detonated prematurely.'

'Sorry Mrs Oppy. I drop something.' Rosalita was already busy with a mop, swabbing the shards of ca.s.serole and dollops of chilli into a neat pile in the centre of the kitchen floor.

'Why are you standing here in the dark?' Kitty flipped a switch and the electric lights came on. Ace winced in the sudden brightness. Kitty smiled at her. 'h.e.l.lo Ace. h.e.l.lo Doctor. What sort of clandestine activity is this?'

The Doctor smiled and doffed his hat.

'Merely a clandestine chilli- purchasing activity I'm afraid. Nothing very exciting.'

'Oh, Rosalita's chilli. Sometimes it seems she's feeding half the Hill. And earning a tidy profit thereby. Anyone would think we didn't pay her enough.'

'Ah, now, Mrs Oppy,' said Rosalita with a tight smile. She set the mop aside and used a fragment of the broken pot to sc.r.a.pe the heap of chilli and other shattered crockery into a dustpan. 'You're ribbing me, huh?'

'I'm going to start asking you for a cut of the takings,' said Kitty. 'Oppy doesn't provide me with enough pin money.'

'She's ribbing me,' said Rosalita contentedly, emptying the dustpan into a large metal garbage can that stood just inside the door. She shut the can, gave the floor a final mopping, then bustled to the sink and carefully washed the dustpan, the mop and her hands. While she did this, Kitty turned and looked at the Doctor and Ace.

'Why in heaven's name didn't you come in and say h.e.l.lo.'

'We didn't want to disturb you,' said Ace.

'You looked like you were still recovering from the party,' said the Doctor.

'Well, come on through now. Oppy's out working and Peter is asleep.' Peter was the Oppenheimers' four-year-old and he seemed to Ace to have an 54admirable capacity for slumber. He'd even managed to sleep through the cacophony of the previous night's party. 'I'm all alone out here except for Rosalita,' said Kitty, mock wistfully.

Rosalita dried her hands and turned to the stove. She reached for a large black metal saucepan and dragged it on to the gas flame that still flickered and hissed on the range. 'Now I warm up some of last night's chilli for you.

It'll be just as tasty, you see.'

'Come and visit with me while it's warming up,' said Kitty. 'Rosalita, fix us some coffee.'

'Yes, Mrs Oppy.'

The Doctor and Ace spent half an hour in the sitting room chatting with Kitty and then left with their chilli, safe in a new ceramic ca.s.serole snugly secured in a basket. Ace carried it, swinging the braided handle in her fingers as they walked down Bathtub Row. 'Mind you don't drop it,' said the Doctor.

'Don't worry. I'm not going to lose my supper again. As it were. Doctor. . . '

'Yes?'

'Last night Kitty kept going on about a woman called Tattle or something.'

'Tatlock. Jean Tatlock.'

'She really seems to hate her guts.'

'Hmm. Yes, well Jean Tatlock was a rival for Oppy's affections when they first met.'

Ace strolled along beside the Doctor in the dark. There were trees overhead and the moonlight came through the leaves in gently swaying patches as the branches moved in the breeze. 'An ex-girlfriend. Yeah, I sussed that. But she said something about this Tatlock woman I think she said b.i.t.c.h, actually being one of the reasons that Major Butcher is snooping around.'

'That's correct. You see, Jean Tatlock, Oppy's old flame, was deeply involved in radical politics and under her influence Oppy drifted into similar circles.

Since his marriage to Kitty, however, he has foresworn any such a.s.sociations.

Fortunately for the US government.'

'Why fortunately?'

'Because they don't want their atomic weapons being made by a man who is politically suspect. Which in the current climate translates as communist.'