Everyone in This Bank Is a Thief: A Novel

'He looks a little like you. Stop stalling.'

'I'm not stalling. Although I have been meaning to mention that the photographer is too expensive. We'll have to cut the canapés.'

'We're not cutting the canapés.'

I was fretting about our upcoming wedding, though not for the usual reasons. We met during one murder and got engaged during another, so it only stands to reason that someone will die at our nuptials. That's how it happens in books. Turns out life events are very dangerous for a recurring series detective.

'Four grand for photos. What's he taking them with  the Hubble?' I continued, quickly tallying the numbers in my head. 'It puts us up to thirty-eight thousand. Unacceptable.'

'Where is this coming from?' Juliette's mouth dropped open a little. 'Who's counting?'

'I am.' It had been spinning around in my head for a while, but I finally blurted it out. 'The average divorce rate in Australia is forty-three per cent. And the more you spend on a wedding, the more likely you are to get divorced, statistically speaking. Now, the average wedding in Australia costs thirty-six thousand dollars. So if we spend more than thirty-six kay, we're increasing the odds of divorce.'

'If I drink four mimosas while getting ready, and then I'm denied canapés, I reckon that would drastically impact the divorce statistic. And this wedding talk is definitely stalling,' Juliette said. She leaned back and folded her arms to appear formidable. 'Take me through it one more time.'

'Okay, um. Well, you see—'

'We've come a long way for an um, well, you see.'

If you want to put Huxley on a map, you can estimate the distance from any country town to Sydney by the thickness of their banana bread. We were working with at least two inches, which computes to about seven hours' drive north, up to the Queensland border at the foot of the mountainous barrier that separates the eastern Australian coastline from inland: the Great Dividing Range. We were fueling up before a by-invitation loan meeting with Huxley's Bank, one of the oldest family-owned banks in the country. It should be no small hint to their influence that the town itself is named after them. So I was a little nervous.

'Do it for real. And stop slouching.' Juliette cleared her throat and put on a deep voice. 'I'm a very busy man.'

'By all reports, Winston Huxley is actually a very reasonable—'

'Ernest—' Juliette broke character with a whine. 'Work with me.'

I pulled myself up in the chair and straightened my tie, which I'd lost the argument over wearing. Apparently a tie helps secure a bank loan must be something to do with displaying a willingness to hang oneself. 'Okay. But if you're taking feedback, people don't say I'm a very busy man in real life. It's just a shortcut in stories for I'm a wanker.'

'Are you calling me a wanker?'

'Are we still in character?'

'Is that a risk you're willing to take?'

'Mr Huxley, you have a beautiful office.'

I feigned looking around the café. There were a thousand little tap-tap-tap's against the bay window (not hail, if you're guessing ahead), peeling gold paint spelling Liz's Café across it. Country town shops are often eponymous, I've found. To further my point, we'd parked in front of a Darren's Thai Food that morning. No shade to Darren's culinary skills, but I'd sooner eat Liz's banana bread than Dazza's pad thai. This opinion was seemingly shared, judging by the For Lease sign in the restaurant's dusty window, clinging on by one remaining corner of Blu Tack. Inside the café, across from us, I glimpsed two parents consoling their daughter over a photo of Laurence Birch on her phone. She was pale and sunken-eyed with shock. Fandom is a funny thing. A parasocial relationship with a Hollywood star gives a young woman as much grief as I've seen actual families express around murder victims.

I tried to block the café out and get into character, picturing myself in Winston Huxley's office.

'So tell me about this proposition,' Juliette said, still speaking from the chest.

'I have, in recent years, become quite renowned for solving crimes. All of my cases have made the national news, and I've published three memoirs chronicling how I solved them. I'm proposing to translate this skill set into a more, um'—I caught Juliette's eye and steadied my voice—'professional arena. Sir. The loan will allow us to become operational: rent premises, pay for IT support. Possibly hire staff.'