Part 2 of 2
Indeed, what IS he thinking? He's sitting across a bar table interviewing Renward and thinking… she looks naked! His mind drifts just a tad, well, except for that lily in her hair. Where on earth did she find such a massive bloom? Does it signify something? Is it a code of some kind? It looks positively ravenous! Why am I thinking about sex?
He jerks back to bossness, gives himself a little shake and tries very hard to keep his eyes on his notes and Renward but it's hard, very hard. I hope like hell she doesn't wear that tube-top to work, my heart couldn't stand it! Moments later, he's adrift once more, not quite moony-eyed but pretty damn close. Can a flower be considered as clothing? Well, a grass skirt certainly… and I believe the Pacific people still wear bark cloth although I'm sure it's uncomfortable… He shakes his head, Keep it together, Poole, this is no time to lose control. Interviewing the second band member, Eddy, is easier. The guy is fascinating in a sleazy sort of way and takes up most of Richard's attention. Interviewing the third band member, Curtis, is a disaster.
Poole is most definitely losing control as he's pinned by a basilisk's lidless stare. Thankfully, Camille picks up the lead and his momentary lapse goes unnoticed. Or so he hopes. If there's one thing this French woman doesn't need, it's another arrow in her arsenal to use against him. Then he notices that Camille is getting feisty and a feisty Camille is always a joy to behold. He can barely keep his eyes off her as she gets bossy with the witness/suspect. God, how he wishes she'd turn some of that attention onto HIM!
Then there's the damn snake! Poole knows it's a relatively harmless Ball Python but his hindbrain is whispering sibilant hisses and faint buzzing rattles, sending shivers up his spine… and not nice ones either. Were the whispers merely his own fraught breathing echoing inside his pounding head? Were the ominous rattles the result of his own bones shivering, his teeth chattering? His 'fight or flight' response is in full swing… and his body doesn't want to fight!
He watches, mesmerized as a doomed bird, as the snake does slow sinuous laps, first the head then the tail then the head again on Curtis' left shoulder. He can't look away. Is the snake dancing? DO snakes dance? Cobras in baskets certainly but… his skin starts to crawl.
Worst of all, Camille notices! He's just stiffening up to defend himself from ridicule as well as leap to safety if that snake so much as sniffs in his direction… when he's blind sided by Camille taking over the interview as if nothing is wrong. Once Curtis's attention turns to Camille, the snake turns away too, almost like its part of the interview. How odd, Poole thinks but he's grateful his anxiety can ratchet down once those blank eyes are off him. So much so that he can almost ask a sane question or two and not sound too clueless.
By the time they Interview Neville, the roadie, Poole's aplomb returns... as does his curiosity. Camille seems fired up about something and his thoughts ricochet off once more. Did she date a musician in her tumultuous past? Does Neville bring back fond memories of an earlier lover that she still has feelings for? Should I tell her I played drums in the School panto one winter? I was pretty good and the tartan over the shoulder looked rather dashing. Poole sighs and sits back, amazed at how distracted he's feeling. NO! Stay focused! I'm the DI here; I should be asking the questions! Casting about for something to say, he says the first thing that pops into his head. He asks about the shoes…
… and immediately wishes he hadn't! The LOOK she gives him, like he's a pervert of some kind! Oh, super!, he despairs. Something ELSE she can use against me! I hate my life! Then Neville tells them about Michelle and when Camille asks if the wife, Avita, objected to her husband showing such an interest in a younger woman, her voice is full of scorn, like she held a very low opinion of older men who pine after younger women!
Poole averts his eyes. I'M an older man! And I'm pining for a younger woman! Oh, how she could ridicule me for my hopeless dreams of wooing her! Can this evening possibly gang any more agley? Turns out it can.
Fidel let the new widow leave because she was crying. Poole finally loses his cool altogether and chides the young officer harshly. So there are fences to mend and misunderstandings to correct on all fronts. Nevertheless, the case is solved in jig time and the Honoré team's solve rate remains perfect.
Was there ever any doubt?
Epilogue
The night following Solly's wake, Poole paces his veranda in the moonlight, the memory of holding her in his arms, even so briefly, burning like fire. He hears a sound, whirls to face it, and sees her hesitating at the corner of his house. The night is cool and she's wearing that little yellow cardi he likes so much. "What is it?" he barks a trifle stridently. He doesn't like being snuck up on, not after dark, and especially not when he's in such an agitated state.
She shrugs, "Nothing, except I think maybe we have unfinished business…"
His curt rejoinder that whatever it is can certainly wait until the morning is short-circuited by her slipping off the cardi to reveal the mesmerizing tube top. Then she opens her purse, takes out the lily and holds it out to his sudden fascination. Since he can't seem to blink or move, she slowly and carefully approaches and comes to a halt a bare hands-breadth away from his frozen body and brushes the blossom against his cheek.
As he jerks in a convulsive shiver, she murmurs, "Here, why don't you tuck this behind my ear?" His eyes jump up to meet hers and she smiles, "Unless you can think of something better to do with it? I know I can."
END
*the drums and an over-the-shoulder tartan? Ben's 1999 movie 'Hunting Venus'*