Page 47 of The Little Porto Book Club

‘Hmm, maybe,’ I say, pondering it all. As always, the case remains murky. The answers just out of reach.

‘Or, you could all be seeing a crime where there isn’t one,’ Thomas unhelpfully adds.

Tiago is busy jotting on Post-it notes, paying not a lick of attention to the conversation. I lean forward to peek, just in case he’s writing a bullet-point kill list. All I can make out is: you make every day special. Is he writing himself affirmations? If so, I admire a man in touch with his feelings. You don’t see that every day.

‘Thomas, do you really think after having been presented with all the facts that we’re wrong?’ The sceptic in a whodunnit is there to challenge assumptions and spot inconsistencies, so I’m waiting for Thomas to offer us a substantial direction to follow that we may not have considered. That’s his role in this mystery, whether he’s aware of it or not.

Thomas shifts his weight as he heaves his Crimean War hardback to the table. ‘The mystery is Lucinda owns the café and probably didn’t want us to find out,’ he says in a tone that implies such a thing is obvious.

‘How did you find out Lucinda owns the café?’

‘Zephyr told me.’ So, he is keeping up with developments! There’s hope for him yet.

‘What’s your theory as to why Lucinda wants to keep that a secret?’ I probe, hoping for something, anything, to guide us.

He gives me a one shoulder shrug. ‘Because she’s an introvert? You of all people should understand, Viviane. You don’t like sharing personal details.’

Dammit. ‘You don’t think any of this is odd? And that Lucinda isn’t hiding a bigger secret, not with all the clues we’ve been privy to?’ I push the notebook of mysteries in his direction, hoping he’ll take an interest in my latest theories. He does not.

‘Everyone has secrets. But I’m sure Lucinda doesn’t have a dead husband being dragged around Porto in a suitcase.’ The waitress strides to our table, balancing a tray of coffees. We fall silent and as I look around, each of our expressions is one of guilt. This won’t do. How to make legitimate book club small talk? ‘Ending on a cliffhanger when the next book isn’t even written should be outlawed, discuss.’

‘Hear, hear!’ old Albert says.

‘For real,’ Zephyr says. ‘That’s almost a trigger warning right there. Like I lowkey fell into a screaming heap of despair when that romantasy series was left on a cliffhanger and then the author went off and wrote a romance book, a romance book, like cool and all but finish what you start, lady!’

‘I don’t mind them,’ Tiago says. ‘Gives me something to look forward to.’ He sends a wink my way, and then bumps the table, sending our coffees flying.

‘Votes to kick Tiago out of book club?’ Thomas says with a cheeky grin, provoking a laugh from Tiago.

‘Yes,’ I concur. ‘I’m paying full price for a cup of coffee but I’m only ever able to drink half when Tiago is here.’ I wink back at him. Look at me go, joking around like I do this kind of malarkey every day.

We thank the waitress and when she’s safely behind the counter we get back to the matter at hand.

Tiago leans close to Thomas and resumes the chat. ‘What makes you so sure Lucinda’s husband isn’t being dragged around Porto in a suitcase? Because that’s the thing for me, we just don’t know for sure either way. It’s the kill list that concerns me. Yes, it could have been a kiss list, but that seems unlikely.’ Around the table there are nods from everyone except Thomas. ‘Everything else we could possibly explain away, but not that list.’

‘The fact that there have been no murders is one,’ Thomas says, radiating calm when the rest of us have our shoulders up around our ears, eyes out on stalks for eavesdroppers, and ears pricked.

It’s nice that Thomas is talking, interacting, even if just to disagree. There’s a subtle change in his complexion, as if he’s caught the sun. He’s not as hunched over, haunted. It gives me hope that he’s working through whatever’s troubling him.

‘There is a missing man,’ Zephyr says, as she takes a noisy sip of her coffee.

‘Yes, there’s that.’ Thomas casts his gaze about like he’s looking for escape. ‘That could be anyone. He could turn up.’

I sense Thomas has had enough of this for one day.

‘Well,’ I say, Detective Amber Quill doesn’t mention the toll that getting precisely nowhere takes, ‘all we can do now is wait and see if the missing man is identified. Or we try and identify him ourselves. Tiago, get onto the world wide web, see what you can find.’

‘The … world … You want me to google it?’

‘Google? Any fool can google, Tiago. No, I want you to plumb the depths. Go deep. Use your particular set of skills. Find out who this missing man is.’ How hard can it be? Surely he can hack into a database or two?

‘Right. On it.’ He takes his phone from his pocket while his lips twitch with a smile.

The waitress casts a curious glance our way. Zephyr and old Albert swear she won’t share any further details about her aunt but surely there’s a way to pry it from her? Is she not worried about her missing aunt because there’s family tension about the way the pastelaria is run? Hard to tell.

She soon comes over, cloth in hand to wipe down a table nearby. Suspicious, if you ask me, I’d hazard a guess she’s eavesdropping. And if she won’t give up any further information about Lucinda, we won’t give her any either.

‘We better get started,’ I say, making my voice bright.