Vesna McMaster – Innocent

 ‘How on earth do you know?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You mean it’s a hunch.’

‘A kind of inner sense. Hunch sounds…uncouth.’

‘Oh come on. Are you letting intrusive thoughts in again?’

(Mumbles) ‘Ablist trash.’

‘What?’

‘Potash. I need to get some more potash.’

‘What?’

‘The roses. They can’t live on banana skins alone.’

‘Are you all right?’

‘Anyway I’m sure of it. He’s bullshitting.’

‘Hmm. And how does your inner sense come up with this?’

‘The notebook he lent me at the writers’ group.’ He gazes into space.

‘You’ve got to stop being so cryptic. He lent you a notebook. And?’

‘It smelled of incense.’

‘Dear god. And?’

‘That’s the same smell as the bag that was left at the robbery.’

‘What?’

‘The bag smelled of incense.’

‘You mean you come in in the morning, find the bookshop’s been broken into, the contents of the till stolen, and before you call the cops you checking out how much the criminal’s bag smells of patchouli?’

‘You literally hire trained experts to do that, it’s standard.’

‘They’re called dogs, Greg.’

He looks aside, slightly petulant. ‘I don’t think you’re interested in what was actually stolen.’

‘You said. 2.4K and a copy of Cybersecurity for Dummies.’

‘No. It was my teacup.’

‘What?’

‘I hadn’t washed it.’

‘They ran off with a dirty teacup?’

‘Biometric data.’

At this point, she puts her own cup down and stares at him. ‘With the greatest respect, Greg, who in the hell would want your biometric data?’

‘They’re looking to build a master race.’

She blinks. There is no polite way out of here. ‘Anyway. Insurance is going to pay for the damage to the locks, right?’

‘I cancelled the insurance three years ago.’

Her teacup clatters back into its saucer. ‘What? I’ve been in a business partnership with no insurance??’ She sounds

‘Insurance is a hyper-capitalist scam.’

‘Greg…You can’t do this sort of thing. Honestly.’ She gesticulates; then remembers Greg is not good with gestures. ‘I’m feeling angry, Greg. Frankly, I’m incensed.’

The pupils contract inside his grey irises. ‘You’re so innocent.’

A chill runs down her neck.