Bad Blood Rising

by Eva Carmichael

  The meeting he had had with David Glendenning the day before had been worrying him. David had been a useful ally over the years but now he was losing his influence and there was little he could do to help him. If David did get prosecuted for misconduct who knows what dirty little secrets he would tell to save his own skin?

  But it was what David had told him at their last meeting that had made Karl feel more uneasy. Proposals were being considered by the council to operate a zero tolerance throughout the city towards the sex industry. This would mean closing down all strip clubs, pole dancing clubs and brothels. Although he hadn’t received any official notification as yet, David had warned him to expect a letter outlying the proposals very soon. Karl had already arranged clandestine meetings with several members on the council who were visitors to the club or were regular clients of the girls. He was prepared to use whatever means he could to influence their decision.

  He turned on the car radio and turned his thoughts to Bunny, the girl who had been moonlighting. Bunny had been working for Cupid’s Angels for the past two months. He’d never actually met her but from what he’d heard from Marion she was a high earner for the agency. Shirley had assigned her the more affluent clients and Bunny had received lots of repeat bookings. Usually when girls had been found to be taking on private clients they would be made to pay a heavy fine and taken off the agency’s books. Karl decided he would continue to let her work but would impose a heavy fine, and he would warn her personally of the consequences if she ever moonlighted again.

  As Karl pulled the car into the drive of his home, his mind turned to another matter, one that had been niggling away at him all day. If it was true what Paul had said in his report, he not only had a son but a daughter, Christina. Why hadn’t Lisa mentioned her to him? Where was Christina living? What was she doing? He needed answers and on Sunday when he met Lisa and Alex, he was determined to get them.

  SIXTY-SIX

  Karl arrived home just before ten thirty. He parked his car in the garage and made his way into the house.

  “Erica, I’m home,” he called from the kitchen.

  “We’re through here,” she answered.

  Karl walked into the lounge. Charlotte’s heart began to race as he came towards her. A tall, well-dressed middle aged man with closely cropped hair, she noted. He had an aura of authority which she found slightly alarming. She noted the scar which ran down his left cheek. My mother did that, you bastard, she thought. Good for her.

  “This is Charlotte, darling,” Erica said as she walked towards her husband and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “Charlotte, this is my husband, Karl.”

  Charlotte held out her hand which was shaking slightly.

  “It’s nice to meet you at last. Erica’s told me all about you.”

  “Not everything, I hope,” Karl smirked, winking as he leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “It’s very nice to meet you, Charlotte.”

  “Have you eaten, darling? There’s some casserole in the oven I can heat up.”

  “I’m fine, thanks, I ate at the club earlier.” Karl walked over to the drinks cabinet and poured himself a whisky. “Would anyone care to join me?” he asked jovially.

  Both women asked for gin and tonic.

  “So tell me, Charlotte,” Karl asked when they were all seated comfortably with their drinks, “what do you think of England? Erica says it’s your first visit.”

  “Oh it’s grand. I love all the shops you have over here.”

  “You’ll have a lot in common with Erica then. She loves the shops too, don’t you, darling?”

  Erica smiled but remained silent.

  “I hear you’re looking for work in England.”

  “Yes, that’s right. I’m a teaching assistant so I should be able to get a job soon.”

  “Are you staying in this area, or are you looking further afield?”

  “I haven’t decided anything yet. For the moment I just want to enjoy what England has to offer.”

  “Well, as long as you don’t get bored.”

  “I’m sure I won’t. Actually, I was wondering if you would let me come and look round the clubs sometime. I’ve never seen the inside of a pole dancing club before.”

  “I’m sure that can be arranged,” Karl grinned, ignoring the hostile look given by Erica. “I’m busy over the weekend, but Monday night should be okay, it’s not usually busy on a Monday. Will you be coming too, Erica?”

  Erica glared at her husband. “Of course,” she said sharply. “I’ll need to keep an eye on Charlotte. Goodness knows who’ll be hanging around.”

  “The club lounge has a very upmarket clientele, you know that. You will be my guest in the VIP lounge. I hope you like champagne.”

  Charlotte nodded and gave Karl her broadest smile. “Well, I think I’ll go up now if you don’t mind,” she said. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

  “She seems a nice kid,” Karl said when Charlotte had left the room. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

  “She’s very sweet and very innocent. I don’t think it’s a good idea encouraging her to visit the club. Please tell her you’ve changed your mind.”

  “Nonsense. I’ve told you before, Erica, you can’t sugar-coat life. It’s time little Charlotte came out from under her bushel and experienced life’s realities.”

  “She’s little more than a child. She shouldn’t…”

  “Enough,” Karl snapped getting up from his chair and striding towards his wife. “Don’t ever tell me what I should and shouldn’t do, Erica. Understand?”

  He roughly grabbed her shoulders, pulling her to her feet.

  “Now, I think I will have some supper after all.”

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  It was after eight before Charlotte woke. Usually she was awake before seven. Quickly she got out of bed and showered before pulling on blue jeans and a cream top. She brushed her hair and tied it back before leaving her room and making her way to the kitchen. Erica was already busy at the stove.

  “Good morning,” she greeted. “No need to ask if you slept well.”

  “Like a log,” Charlotte smiled. “It’s a very comfy bed.”

  “Would you like some breakfast?”

  “Just juice, please. I’m not really hungry.”

  “You should eat breakfast,” Erica scolded. “What about a buttery croissant?”

  “Alright, if you insist. Where’s Karl this morning? Surely he’s not still sleeping?”

  “No, Karl left about an hour ago. He said he had some urgent business at the club today.”

  “On a Saturday? Doesn’t he ever take time off?”

  “Hardly ever,” Erica shrugged. “What time have you arranged to meet Marion?”

  “I said I’d meet her outside McDonalds at ten o’clock.”

  “You sure you know where to find it? I can take you if you wish.”

  “Don’t worry, Erica. Marion gave me directions yesterday.”

  Both women ate their breakfast. Erica, scrambled egg on toast with a steaming cup of coffee and Charlotte, a croissant with a glass of fresh orange juice. When they had finished, Erica put the crockery into the dishwasher.

  “I suppose I’d better wear something a bit dressier than jeans to meet Marion. I’ve brought a couple of outfits with me. I’ll get changed now.” She turned to go upstairs when her mobile phone rang.

  “Hello,” she answered almost immediately. “Patrick? Oh Patrick, how lovely to hear from you.” Charlotte smiled at Erica and hurried up the stairs to her room.

  When she came downstairs twenty minutes later, she was wearing the pretty blue floral dress and a white cotton jacket. Her blonde hair was loose, falling over her shoulders.

  “You look nice, dear, that’s a very pretty dress.”

  “Thank you,” Charlotte blushed slightly. “I bought it the other day in town.”

  “Charlotte, I know it’s none of my business but who’s Patrick? Do I know him?”

  “I met him in Dublin. His n
ame is Patrick Flynn. He’s a solicitor.”

  “A solicitor?”

  “Yes. His father is Shamus Flynn, the solicitor you sent my money to all those years.”

  “Why was he ringing you? What does he want?” Erica asked with concern.

  “He wants to come over to England to see me.”

  “Why on earth would he want to do that?”

  “Because he likes me, I suppose, and I rather like him. He’s very good looking, Erica, you’d like him.”

  “Charlotte, this can be dangerous. If Karl finds out that I…”

  “Erica, don’t worry, Patrick won’t be staying here. He’s booked into a hotel in town. Now I really have to go. I don’t want to be late meeting Marion.”

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  Charlotte was elated after Patrick’s call. She could barely believe that he was actually coming to England to be with her. Every night since she had left Ireland, Patrick had telephoned. There had been no mistaking the tenderness in his voice as they had chatted endlessly about everything but nothing in particular. Charlotte had wanted to confide in him about the situation, but decided to wait. She didn’t want a repetition of what had happened when she had confided in Rory. She had made a reservation at the Westbrook Hotel in the centre of Leeds, the hotel she had stayed at when she had first come to England.

  Charlotte hurried along the busy street. She was due to meet up with Marion, her only known living relative. There were still questions she needed to ask about her mother. As she rounded the corner of Turner Street onto the Headrow, she caught sight of Marion outside the Regent Cinema.

  She was about to wave when she felt herself being pushed violently from behind. At the same time, she became aware that her bag was being wrenched from her hands. Frantically Charlotte tried to hold on to her bag, but the assailant, a lad no more than twenty and wearing a green hoody, pulled it from her grasp, pushing her hard against the wall, causing her to fall heavily to the ground.

  Charlotte screamed as the thief raced up the Headrow, pursued by two young men who had witnessed the assault. They both returned after a few minutes triumphantly clutching the stolen handbag.

  “The little runt legged it,” said the first young man. “We got the bag back though. I don’t think he’s nicked from it.” He handed the bag to Marion who was cradling Charlotte, on the ground.

  “Thanks, lads,” she said. “The police are on their way and… oh here’s the ambulance.”

  “I don’t need an ambulance,” Charlotte protested weakly. “I’ll be fine, I just want…”

  Less than ten minutes later, Charlotte was in the A&E Department of St James Hospital with an anxious Marion and Erica by her bedside.

  “Don’t try to talk,” Erica said soothingly as she gently stroked Charlotte’s cheek pushing her long hair out of her eyes. “Marion rang me and told me what happened. You’re alright, darling,” she soothed, “the doctor doesn’t think it’s anything serious.”

  The cubicle curtain was pulled back and an elderly Asian doctor, accompanied by a stern looking young nurse came in and stood alongside the bed.

  “Hello, young lady,” he greeted jovially. “I’m Doctor Ali and this is Nurse Lowe. I hear you’ve been mugged. I bet you’re feeling a bit sore, eh?”

  “A bit,” Charlotte said softly. “He just came out of nowhere and pushed me into the wall and…”

  “Quite so, quite so,” the doctor nodded. “The streets can be a dangerous place these days, you must always take care. The good news young lady is that there doesn’t seem to be any bones broken.” He watched as Nurse Low began taking Charlotte’s pulse. “Now if you don’t mind, ladies,” he said, addressing Erica and Marion, “I need to examine my patient. You can get a coffee from the machine down the corridor.”

  Erica and Marion got up to leave.

  “We won’t be long, darling,” Erica said. “We’re just outside if you need us.”

  After they left, Doctor Ali began his examination. When he had finished, he smiled at Charlotte. “Well, young lady, you’ve been very lucky. No broken bones, just bruising. I’ll give you some painkillers but I prescribe you rest up for a few days.”

  “Thank you, doctor,” Charlotte smiled weakly. “Can I go home now?”

  “Go home? Why does everyone want to go home? Don’t you like it here?” he chortled. “Yes, young lady, you can go home if you must. I promise I won’t be offended.”

  Still grinning, he made to leave her bedside as a second nurse put her head round the curtained screen. “There’s a police officer here, doctor. He wants to speak to the patient.”

  “Show him through, I’m sure you’re able to tell the policeman what happened, aren’t you, dear? Do you want me to get your companions?”

  “No, I’ll be fine,” Charlotte answered propping herself up on the pillows.

  Charlotte was still feeling a little woozy as the young policeman came through the curtained cubicle and sat on the chair at the side of her bed.

  “Good afternoon,” he said politely. “I’m Police Constable Matthew Glendenning and I need to take a statement from you about the incident earlier today.”

  SIXTY-NINE

  Sunday morning was bright and sunny. Karl was up early, dressed and ready to leave when Erica came into the lounge.

  “Is that a new suit?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you wearing that before.”

  “I’ve had it at least a month,” he lied. “Perhaps you don’t notice any more.”

  Erica, wearing her nightdress and dressing gown, shrugged in response and went into the kitchen. “What do you want for breakfast?”

  “Not hungry,” came the response. “I’ll get something later at the club.”

  “Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

  “Probably, I’ll give you a ring later and let you know. By the way, how’s young Charlotte this morning? Has she recovered from her brush with death?”

  “She’s fine, just a little shaken, that’s all. I thought I might take her breakfast in bed.”

  “You’re spoiling her. Let her come downstairs and eat properly.”

  Before Erica could respond, Karl was through the door, slamming it behind him.

  The Emerald Club was deserted when he arrived. He made his way up to his office, softly whistling to himself. It felt strangely quiet at this time in the morning. He felt both excited and apprehensive knowing that in just a few hours he would meet the son he hadn’t known existed until a couple of days ago.

  He paced nervously up and down the office. He opened the safe and removed the IOUs which Peter had brought from Jonny Dalton the day before. Forty thousand pounds worth of IOUs. He frowned as he checked the dates. Some of them went back almost a year. Karl heard a noise and pushed the documents quickly into the desk drawer just as Peter walked into the office.

  “Oh sorry, boss, I didn’t know you were in already. Fancy a coffee?”

  “Yeah, that would be nice, and a couple of bacon butties would be even better.”

  “Sure thing,” Peter grinned. “The café down the street should be open by now. I’ll be ten minutes.”

  When Peter returned, he was carrying two small paper carrier bags. For the next half hour, both men ate their food and drank coffee whilst making small talk.

  “I’m expecting visitors at lunchtime,” Karl said as he placed the empty paper bag into the waste bin. “See to it I’m not disturbed.”

  “Okay,” Peter said cheerily. “I’d better get downstairs. The cleaners should be here any time.”

  Left alone, Karl turned his attention to the computer printouts for the previous night. He frowned as he studied the recorded takings. “These figures seem low,” he thought. “Peter said it was busy here last night.” He checked the returns from the Topaz and the Sapphire clubs. They too were not as high as he had expected. “What the hell’s going on?” he muttered, dialling Joe’s number.

  “’Morning, Karl,” Joe said after his phone had rang half a dozen times. “You’re
early this morning. Is everything okay?”

  “No, it bloody well isn’t. Have you seen the takings from last night? They’re way down on what they should be.”

  “I wasn’t working last night, Karl. I’ll look into it when I get to the club and ring you back.”

  “Do it now. I want to know what the hell’s going on.” He slammed down the receiver and rang Colin’s number. It was a few minutes before he answered the phone.

  “Calm down,” Colin soothed in response to Karl’s angry tone. “I think I know what’s happened. It’s young Barry, the lad who’s been helping me that’s made the cock-up. He’s a nice lad, but not very bright. I put him in charge of recording the figures on the computer whilst I went away for a few days break. It looks like he’s sent you the figures meant for the tax man by mistake. Don’t worry, Karl, I’ll get the proper accounts over to you tomorrow when I’m back at my desk.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?” Karl asked suspiciously. “You haven’t been up to your old tricks again, have you?”

  “Karl, what do you take me for?” Colin said indignantly. “I’ve told you what’s happened. I’ll get it sorted tomorrow.”

  “Make sure you do, and get rid of that stupid little bastard. I don’t know why you need an assistant for in the first place.”

  “To cover for me when I need time off, that’s why. I’ll speak to Barry tomorrow. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

  “It better not,” Karl snapped as he angrily put down the receiver.

  He began to drum his fingers on the desk glancing over at the drinks table. “No,” he told himself firmly, “not this early in the morning.” He quickly picked up the internal phone. “Peter, bring me another coffee, mate, and put plenty of sugar in it.”