O'Fear

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‘Did you know a man named Barnes Todd?’ Cy Sackville asked me.

‘What do you mean, did? I do know him. Barnes Todd.’

‘I’m sorry, Cliff. You don’t know him any more. He’s dead.’

Shit,’ I said. ‘Everybody’s dying these days. How come you and I aren’t dead, Cy?’

Sackville smiled his expensive lawyer’s smile, the one that means we’re going to win but it’ll cost you. ‘I keep myself fit and I work in a profession known for the longevity of its members. Whereas you…’

‘Don’t,’ I said. ‘On both counts. Well, private eyes live longer on average than some people.’

‘Who?’

‘Astronauts. I’m sorry to hear about Todd. He wasn’t that old, was he?’

‘About fifty, bit more.’

Depressing. But I was determined not to be too depressed, there had been too much of that in my life recently. ‘It’s always nice to see you,

Cy, but why the sudden summons to your pricy presence? You weren’t Todd’s lawyer, were you?’

Sackville shook his well-groomed head. He’s about my age, which is more than forty, and I rate him marginally brighter and about twenty times richer than me. At five foot seven he’s six inches shorter, and we both weigh about twelve stone. You can see what a good team we make. ‘You don’t seem very upset at my news.’

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