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iller fits。
All I wanted was to finish my mild tranquilliser； go home； find something to eat； and sleep。 Sleep； I thought； yawning； had overall priority。
A woman's voice at my side upset those plans。
'Are you Sid Halley？' it said。
I turned reluctantly。 She had shining black shoulder…length hair； bright light…blue eyes and dark red lipstick； sharply edged。 Naturally unblemished skin had been given a matt porcelain powdering。 Black eyebrows and eyelashes gave her face strong definition； an impression her manner reinforced。 She wore black clothes in June。 I found it impossible to guess her age； within ten years； from her face； but her manicured red…nailed hands said no more than thirty。
'I'm from The Pump；' she said。 'My colleague； Kevin Mills； has been called away to a rape。'
I said 'Oh；' vaguely。
'I'm India Cathcart；' she said。
I said 'Oh' again； just as vaguely； but I knew her by her name； by her reputation and by her writing。 She was a major columnist； a ruthless interviewer； a deconstructing nemesis； a pitiless ex…poser of pathetic human secrets。 They said she kept a penknife handy for sharpening her ballpoints。 She was also funny； and I； like every Pump addict； avidly read her stuff and laughed even as I winced。
I did not； however； aim to be either her current or future quarry。
'I came to pick up our exclusive；' she said。
'Ah。'Fraid there isn't one。'
'But you said。'
'I hoped；' I agreed。
'And you haven't answered your phone all day。'
I undipped my mobile phone and looked at it as if puzzled； which I wasn't。 I said； making a discovery； 'It's switched off。'
She said； disillusioned； 'I was warned you weren't dumb。'
There seemed to be no answer to that； so I didn't attempt one。
'We tried to reach you。 Where have you been？'
'Just with friends；'I said。
'I went to be Bassett。 What did I find？ No colt； with or without feet。 No Sid Halley。 No sobbing colt…owner。 I find some batty old fusspot who says everyone went to Archie's house。'
I gazed at her with a benign expression。 I could do a benign expression rather well。
'So；' continued India Cathcart with visible disgust； 'I go to the house of a Mr Archibald Kirk in the village of Shelley Green； and what do I find there？'
'What？'
'I find about five other newspapermen； sundry photographers； a Mrs Archibald Kirk and a deaf old gent saying 'Eh？'
'So then what？'
'Mrs Kirk is lying； all wide…eyed and helpful。 She's saying she doesn't know where anyone is。 After three hours of that； I went back to be Bassett to look for ramblers。'
'Did you find any？'
'They had rambled twenty miles and had climbed a stile into a field with a resident bull。 A bunch of ramblers crashed out in panic through a hedge backwards and the rest are discussing suing the farmer for letting a dangerous animal loose near a public footpath。 A man with a pony…tail says he's also suing Mrs Bracken for not keeping her colt in a stable； thus preventing an amputation that gave his daughter hysterics。'
'Life's one long farce；' I said。
A mistake。 She pounced on it。 'Is that your ment on the…maltreatment of animals？'
'No。'
'Your opinion of ramblers？'
'Footpaths are important；' I said。
She looked past me to the bartender。 'Sparkling mineral water； ice and lemon； please。'
She paid for her own drink as a matter of course。 I wondered how much of her challenging air was unconscious and habitual； or whether she volume…adjusted it according to who she was talking to。 I often learned useful things about people's characters by watching them talk to others than myself； and paring the response。
'You're not playing fair；' she said； judging me over the wedge of lemon bestriding the rim of her glass。 'It was The Pump's Hotline that sent you to be Bassett。 Kevin says you pay your debts。 So pay。'
'The Hotline was his own idea。 Not a bad one； except for about a hundred false alarms。 But there's nothing I can tell you this evening。'
'Not can't。 Won't。'
'It's often the same thing。'
'Spare me the philosophy！'
'I enjoy reading your page every week；'I said。
'But you don't want to figure in it？'
'That's up to you。'
She raised her chin。 'Strong men beg me not to print what I know。'
I didn't want to antagonise her pletely and I could forgo the passing pleasure of banter； so I gave her the benign expression and made no ment。
She said abruptly； 'Are you married？'
'Divorced。'
'Children？'
I shook my head。 'How about you？'
She was more used to asking questions than answering。 There was perceptible hesitation before she said； 'The same。'
I drank my Scotch。 I said； 'Tell Kevin I'm very sorry I can't give him his inside edge。 Tell him I'll talk to him on Monday。'
'Not good enough。'
'No； well 。。。 I can't do more。'
'Is someone paying you？' she demanded。 'Another paper？'
I shook my head。 'Maybe Monday；' I said。 I put my empty glass on the bar。 'Goodbye。'
'Wait！' She gave me a straight stare； not overtly or aggressively feminist； but one that saw no need to make points in a battle that had been won by the generation before her。 I thought that perhaps India Cathcart wouldn't have made it a condition of continued marriage that I should give up the best skill I possessed。 I'd married a loving and gentle girl and turned her bitter： the worst； the most miserable failure of my life。
India Cathcart said； 'Are you hungry？ I've had nothing to eat all day。 My expense account would run to two dinners。'
There were many worse fates。 I did a quick survey of the possibility of being deconstructed all over page fifteen； and decided as usual that playing safe had its limits。 Take risks with caution： a great motto。
'Your restaurant or mine？' I said； smiling； and was warned by the merest flash of triumph in her eyes that she thought the tarpon hooked and as good as landed。
We ate in a noisy brightly lit large and crowded black…mirrored restaurant that was clearly the in…place for the in…crowd。 India's choice。 India's habitat。 A few sycophantic hands shot out to make contact with her as we followed a lisping young greeter to a central； noteworthy table。 India Cathcart acknowledged the plaudits and trailed me behind her like a et's tail （Halley's？） while introducing me to no one。
The menu set out to amaze； but from long habit I ordered fairly simple things that could reasonably be dealt with one…handed： watercress mousse； then duck curry with sliced baked plantains。 India chose baby aubergines with oil and pesto； followed by a large mound of crisped frogs' legs that she ate uninhibitedly with her fingers。
The best thing about the restaurant was that the decibel level made private conversation impossible： everything anyone said could be overheard by those at the next table。
'So；' India raised her voice； teeth gleaming over a herb…dusted cuisse； 'was Betty Bracken in tears？'
'I didn't see any tears。'
'How much was the colt worth？'
I ate some plantain and decided they'd overdone the caramel。 'No one knows；' I said。
'Kevin told me it cost a quarter of a million。 You're simply being evasive。'
'What it cost and what it was worth are