Page 19 of The Little Porto Book Club

If only I were morally grey, unfortunately I’m too much of a rule follower for that. Now if the intended victim was an ethically bankrupt man with a dark underbelly, then my violent opposition would become a little less staunch, if you get my drift. It would be slightly easier to look the other way, if and only if, the punishment fits the crime …

Lucinda does another heavy sigh as if reading my mind. I peek over the top of my book and will my vision to clear enough to read her angry scrawls. I discern a bullet point list of some sort but can’t see what it says.

The plot thickens …

Precisely two hours into book club I pack up my things and say, ‘Boa tarde.’ There’s a lot to think about and I simply must get home to my notebook full of mysteries and add the latest development.

Predictably my efforts to escape efficiently are thwarted by the book club members’ lengthy farewells, as they gather their belongings and chat about how delightful it’ll be to see each other again in seven days.

‘The only way I’ll miss our next book club is if I’m dead!’ Lucinda says apropos of absolutely nothing.

‘Is there any chance of you dying?’ I ask, getting straight to the point. Or dare I voice my real suspicions, that this is some kind of misdirection because she herself intends on killing off a dud of a husband.

Fear dashes across her features before she masks it with confusion. The woman is keeping a secret, no two ways about it. ‘Excuse me?’

I lower my voice. ‘Blink twice if you need help.’

Lucinda lets out a fluttery little laugh. ‘Viviane, you really are comedy gold.’

Deflection …

My toes curl inside my sensible shoes. I don’t have a lot to work with here. She excuses herself to go to the counter while I leave the pastelaria, mind in a frenzy with whether I should act or not. I’ve made too many bad calls at social clubs and so I hesitate. Tiago follows me, to ramble about the weather of all things.

Our one-sided conversation is interrupted as Lucinda leaves the pastelaria, her head bent as she rummages in her handbag for her ringing phone.

My attention is drawn back to her as she says, ‘As per my email, I’ve got a range of questions about those toxins …’ Her words are indecipherable as she strides farther away.

Toxins? Toxins! ‘What did she mean by that?’ I ask Tiago urgently, but the rest of the book club wander out and I give him a quick shake of the head to put an end to any further speculation about Lucinda in front of the others. I really need a Watson to my Holmes to get on with the case! But who would make a trustworthy sidekick? It has to be this sunny warm-hearted specimen in front of me. While I’m analytical like Detective Amber Quill, he’s more unassuming like her sidekick, and also makes a great sounding board.

I do the unthinkable and say, ‘Tiago, if you’re amenable, I’d like to walk with you for a while.’ I need to ascertain if he has the qualities I’m after in a sidekick, before I fully entertain the idea.

His eyes light up, like I’ve just offered him the world. ‘Great! Let’s get an ice cream and walk by the river?’

I double blink.

Tiago studies my face like he’s searching for clues. ‘Actually, it’s too busy by the river, why don’t we walk in Parque das Virtudes? It’s meant to be a hidden little oasis where we can actually hear each other.’

I’m momentarily lost for words as Tiago recalibrated so fast to find a solution that suits my need for calm. It would be churlish now to refuse. ‘I like ice cream.’

‘You look like a strawberry ice cream enthusiast to me.’

I’m momentarily taken aback. How could he know that? ‘Surely it’s impossible to tell?’

‘Have a guess what flavour I like then?’

I survey him as we walk, he guides me past a loud group with a gentle hand to the small of my back. Once we’re past them I say, ‘Chocolate.’ Original, sweet, dependable.

‘Yes! See, it’s not so hard to guess.’

At this juncture I should explain about my heart being a locked box, but his smile is so bright, the sunshine is dazzling and the afternoon stretches before me like a gift, so I don’t. It’s not like me to mosey along like this, but it feels right so I let it happen. A good detective rolls with the punches, and I’d like to get to know Tiago better, before I share with him the strange Lucinda happenings …

Chapter Ten

The following week I get to book club early and take my spot by the window. I’m hoping Tiago gets here before the others so we can chat about my suspicions about Lucinda. Since I’ve had plenty of time to ruminate, my notebook of mysteries is bursting with speculations. I simply must confront her today and tell her I’m on her side, no matter what, so long as he’s a baddie and she’s not offing him for the sake of financial gain, or just for fun.

If I put some logic to it, chances are the man is a liar of some description, disappointing but true. If a man so beloved and wholesome as my dearly departed dad can lie, then trust me, anyone can.

With sunshine streaming above him like a halo itself, Tiago comes strolling up the cobblestoned street, hands casually slung in pockets. He’s probably whistling a tune, that’s how relaxed he looks. Whereas I’m taut like a violin string, one twang and I’ll snap. I’d managed to hold off emailing him about this quandary, as I didn’t want to leave a paper trail or unwittingly be an accessory to murder but it was difficult.