Is this Frank Wire? a husky voice came to him. Frank was initially confused. Then he remembered that he had paid for a classified advertisement to run in the Loot advertisement pages, and yes he was indeed the one advertised as Frank Wire, private detective.
Thats right sir, how may I be of help? Frank replied with a show of importance.
My name is Harvey Simpson; I saw your advertisement for a private investigation service.
Yes, that is what we do sir, Frank told him.
Can you meet me in about one hour; I am at the Funky Munky. Do you know the place?
The Funky Munky at Whitechapel I presume?
Yes, that is the one; you know it then? Harvey Simpson seemed happy to learn this
Frank, of course, knew the Funky Munky; together with Trevor, hed done a few gigs there, when it was still a dancing club and before it became a bar and restaurant.
But I cant make it for the next two hours or so because Im presently on a case, Frank told him.
Never mind; I can still wait two hours ; Harvey Simpson said.
Frank felt a surge of excitement coming into his life again. He went to his supervisor and reported sick. She didnt look happy to hear that, but Frank wasnt interested in her happiness. Having thus relinquished his duty at Tesco for the day; he hopped on the bus for Whitechapel.
In the afternoon much of Whitechapel Road was a market, and you had to push and shove through a mass of bodies before you could get wherever you were going. Funky Munky was located in the block of houses that flanked the entire length of the market. It was a badly lit pub, and Frank found Harvey Simpson sitting at a table near the door, but not so near the glass front that the sun could reach him. Frank didnt know how he guessed that he would find him, Harvey Simpson, with a glass of Stout before him. Harvey didnt offer to buy him any. Frank nevertheless took a seat in front of Harvey and orders one too.
Do you know my wife? Harvey asked. There was something Frank immediately found very disagreeable about this man. Not that he was a naturally evil person; far from it. Nevertheless, he had around him so miserable an aura that made him appear at least mildly schizophrenic. Indeed Harvey Simpson looked concurrently suicidal and homicidal. He certainly was not the kind of person Frank wanted to hang around having a drink with. In fact, he was not the kind of guy Frank wanted to work for. He was tempted to get up and walk away, but then remembered hed worked for worse; he had worked for Spencer Cowley.
Does this involve your wife them? Frank asked needlessly.
Yes it does, I think shes seeing another man, Harvey Simpson told him, his voice suddenly very weary.
Another man such as her GP or maybe the mailman? Frank tried to bring some laughter into his conversation, but Harvey Simpson merely scowled.
Okay then, I think you want me to find out if he is seeing another man; like in having an affair, right? Frank tried again.
Thats right, Harvey said. Is that something you could do for me?
Of course yes, we do it every day. Ive got four clients presently signed on ; Frank told him.
I want you to find out and bring me photographic evidence, Harvey said. Harvey wasnt interested in Franks business.
My rate is a hundred pounds an hour, Frank told him; and this could take days you realize.
Harvey didnt look at him. He took out a roll of notes from his pocket, peeled off three fifties which he neatly folded and placed on the table.
I will pay you three hundred for this job; and here is the deposit. I will pay you the balance when you deliver, he said to Frank. This was not even near what Mandy from Eagle Detective Agency had advised, but Frank guessed three hundred pounds was a good enough start.
Okay, I will do this for you, knowing how it feels like to have your partner cheat on you. I think we men should stick together, Frank said. Harvey didnt seem at all interested in Franks fraternal opinion either. He nodded morosely and drank from his glass. Frank stood to leave but remembered that some question needed asking.
How am I to know what your wife looks like when I find her? he asked.
I thought youd never ask, Harvey replied with a malicious smile. He handed Frank an envelope. It contained a photograph and a slip of paper.
That is a photograph of my wife Ida. House address is on the paper; we live in Kentish Town.
Frank gave him a thumbs-up, disappeared the money into his coat pocket together with the envelope. He drank the rest of his beer, gave Harvey Simpson a thumbs-up, and left the Funky Munky.