If anything, she was even more obsessed withthe old place now than ever before.Apparently, the brothel's fortunes had taken a turn for the worse inthe...early fifties. World War II was over, the boys had come home, and- as far as most people were concerned - things were to be back tonormal. Of course, people's private lives were a lot more private backthen, so it took quite some time before the strange patterns ofbedroom behaviour came to be noticed.At first, it was just little things - a little. Oh, well. . .’ The sentence trailed away while she drank some coffee. I raised a quizzical eyebrow at Gaynor and she said quietly: ‘Evan died a couple of years back, heart attack on a golf course in Spain.’ ‘Portugal,’ said Charlie quietly. ‘It was Portugal.’ Silence descended and I broke it. ‘Well, I’m sorry for you, losing a friend like that.’ Charlie looked at me. ‘Thanks, but at least he died doing something he liked doing. One of the things he liked, anyway.’ She smiled broadly,. More

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