In Too Deep

by Roxane Beaufort

  They'd jumped into a taxi, accompanied by one person only, the bodyguard called Roy. He looked villainous enough to pass without notice where they were heading. Once they'd entered the dingy portals of the Hat and Feather, he melded into the background, but Will was aware of him and glad of his presence. Unlike the Flying Goose, this place lacked any suggestion of bonhomie. The landlord stood behind the bar, a massive individual with fists like sledgehammers. He eyed the strangers suspiciously.

  'Two pints of bitter,' Will said, at Theona's prompting.

  'Ain't seen you around before,' the landlord rumbled, deep in his beer belly. 'New to the district, are you?' He hauled on the china headed pump, and soon the glasses of frothy brew stood on the bar.

  'We're looking for Pete,' Theona said frankly, and even the landlord wilted under her authoritarian mien. 'Tell him we're here.'

  'Who shall I say is asking?'

  'Never mind who. Just do it.'

  'He's in the back bar.' The landlord obviously thought better of pursuing it further, and jerked his broad thumb towards the rear.

  Will carried the drinks. The inner bar was even more sleazy, situated near the toilets. Every time the door opened a smell of stale urine and damp wafted through. A jukebox thumped out sixties tunes, and Theona made straight for a table in a dingy corner. 'Hello, Pete,' she said, and sat down.

  A pair of watery blue eyes looked across at her, and then slid to Will. 'Who's this geezer?' Pete asked, his voice gritty.

  'A friend,' Theona replied, and then added, 'What are you drinking?'

  'A pint will do,' he said ungraciously.

  Will went back to get one, but he didn't delay, keen to know what Theona was saying to this unprepossessing character. He was skinny and gaunt and dirty. The bloated flesh of an alcoholic had obscured good facial bone structure. Where in hell's name had Theona come across him?

  He found out as he put the pint on the table. 'How're you doing now?' Theona was saying. 'Are you drumming anywhere? Jesus, what a waste of talent! You've lost the plot, man. Too many joints, too much Charlie up the nose, too much smack and booze.'

  She was scolding Pete like a concerned mother, and he stared down sheepishly at the drink-ringed table surface. 'I know, sorry, Theona,' he mumbled feebly. 'Couldn't keep it together. And once you'd replaced me with Johnny Carr, that was it.'

  'Don't try and shift the blame. It's you who're the addict. No one else. I even paid for you to go to that rehab centre, but you ran away after a week.'

  'I know, I know,' he sighed, reaching for the beer. 'I'm a hopeless ungrateful shit.'

  'A waste of space, more like,' she said severely. 'Johnny's good, but no one can drum like you. You could have been up there with the boys and me. But no, you'd rather stick a needle in your arm. I could say you're an arsehole, but even arseholes are useful. You're good for nothing.'

  'I'm right down there, Theona. I've no money, no proper place to live, in a squat with others like me.'

  'And you're willing to do anything for a fix? I won't enable you to do that, but I will help you any other way I can. But I do expect something in return.'

  'Like what?' he asked cautiously, hovering between defiance and hope.

  'Here's the deal. You've worked for Vincent Gabor since you split from the band, haven't you?'

  Over the rim of his beer glass Pete's eyes shifted to Will and then back to Theona. Then he lowered it to the table and gazed at it for a few moments. 'Yes,' he said shiftily. He had emptied his glass and was sitting there sniffing and rubbing his nose with his hand.

  'What sort of work?' Theona pressed.

  'Oh, this and that,' he said vaguely.

  'He's into drug smuggling, isn't he?'

  Again, those bloodshot eyes darted around, looking anywhere but at her. 'He might be,' he vouchsafed.

  'Oh, come on, don't give me that crap,' she hissed, careful that no one should overhear their conversation. 'He's got deals going in South America, hasn't he? He's in league with the cocaine barons. He was when I was with him, and I don't imagine he's changed his ways.'

  'I can't tell you anything.' Pete was sweating and looking very agitated. 'I daren't. He'll have me killed stone dead.'

  'Stoned dead, more like it,' she commented dryly. 'Okay, so I give you enough money to split, and to make sure you leave the country. I'll buy you a one-way ticket. Go to LA. I've got mates there who'll sort you out.'

  'What kind of mates?' In his paranoid state, he distrusted everyone.

  'Friends who care. They'll help you to kick the drug habit, including booze. Do it, Pete. It's your last chance. If you carry on this way you're going to end up dead in a gutter somewhere.'

  'I need money now,' he said ungraciously. 'I'm meeting my dealer in half an hour.'

  'Talk first,' she said, and drew a wad of bank notes from her breast pocket, waving it in front of him.

  'Vincent will do me in,' he quavered.

  'He won't find out. You can get out of England now, tonight. I'll get one of my heavies to escort you to Heathrow.'

  Will, sitting in silence and listening to her, felt nothing but admiration. She was strong and dominating. His balls clenched and his cock lifted. He'd had her two hours ago, yet lusted to do it again.

  'I need another drink first,' grunted Pete.

  At the bar Will rubbed shoulders with Roy. They didn't speak. Ye gods, Will thought, was he taking part in a James Bond movie, or what?

  'It's not only cocaine, there's the Middle East connection as well,' he heard Pete saying when he got back.

  'Guns?' Arlene responded crisply. 'I can believe it.'

  'And he launders the money through his interests in the fashion industry.'

  'You're sure of this? I suspected it when I was with him, but proof is needed.'

  'Get into his office. It'll be on the computer.'

  'With a password no one knows.'

  'I know it,' Pete sniggered, showing stained teeth as for once he looked pleased with himself. 'I'm into computer hacking.'

  She threw him a questioning look, and Will shared her disbelief that a junkie like Pete could possibly keep it together long enough to get into complicated systems.

  'Right,' she said. 'You give me the password and that'll be worth a further thousand pounds.'

  His eyes narrowed in that wreck of a face. 'Two grand,' he said.

  'Fifteen hundred pounds,' she haggled.

  'Make it seventeen and we've got a deal.'

  They shook hands across the beer puddles on the table. 'My bloke will stay with you and see that you catch the plane,' she said. 'Now, what's the password?'

  He leaned nearer and whispered in her ear. Then, on the pretence of going to the toilet, she paused and had a quick and quiet word with Roy. 'Ring for Ken,' she whispered.

  They left the pub separately and met up in a back alley. Will was more and more convinced that he was taking part in a spy film. Ken duly arrived and Theona handed him the money.

  'But it's mine,' Pete protested, looking grieved. 'What about my dealer?'

  'He or she will make a fruitless journey,' Theona snapped. 'D'you think I'm going to part with my hard-earned cash and have you give it to scum like that? Oh no. Ken will hand it over when he's seen you safely to the departure gate.'

  'But that means I'll have to be straight.' Pete was almost weeping. He made a pathetic, slouching, squalid sight. 'You've no idea what it's like. I'll never survive it.'

  'There's plenty of duty-free booze on the flight,' Theona tried to reassure him, understanding his fears. 'You'll be just fine. And I'll phone and make sure there's someone to meet you at the other end.'

  As she climbed into the back of a taxi with Will, she murmured to him, 'My friends are Buddhists. He couldn't be in better hands. They'll straighten him out. Poor old Pete, he was an ace drummer. Maybe he'll be so again, one day.'

  'And the password is?' Will asked, more concerned about getting Julia out of the clutches of Gabor than for the welfare of a washed-up
musician.

  'Wouldn't you like to know?' she teased.

  As soon as Roy had shut the car door on them and taken his place in front beside the driver, Theona, under the cover of the darkness in the back of the cab, unzipped her jeans, grabbed Will's hand and pressed it into the gap, and his fingers encountered the soft damp silk of her panties. He didn't need to be asked twice, pushing the gusset aside and finding her swollen sex-lips and clit. The cab purred through late night London, Roy and the taxi driver separated from them by a perspex panel. Theona wriggled down a little, working her pelvis against Will's middle digit, then reaching out and tracing his thickened penis through his trousers.

  He decided to torment her for keeping him in the dark. 'I don't think I'll bring you off,' he said, his tongue lapping the rim of her ear, and he part removed his hand from her pussy.

  'Damn you...' she groaned. 'Why not?'

  'You don't trust me enough to tell me the password, so why should I bother to treat you to an orgasm?'

  'Oh, pooh... don't be like that. You know I'd have told you sooner or later.' She seized him by the wrist and rubbed herself against his hand. 'Have it, then, but don't let anyone else know. It's Incagold. No space between. All one word.'

  'My lips are sealed,' he promised, and massaged her briskly.

  A few moments later, after she had come quietly, clinging to him, she whispered huskily close to his mouth, 'You know, there's nothing like a bit of sharp dealing to rouse the libido...'

  Arlene grabbed the phone on the bedside table. 'Yes? Who is it? D'you know what the bloody time is?'

  'It's me - Will,' she heard him say.

  'Where the hell are you? What's happening?' She was so agitated she pushed away Eugene's hand, which had snaked around to cradle her pubis. 'You woke me up, you bastard, and I'd only just got off to sleep. Hell, I've been crying ever since I got back from that fashion fiasco.'

  'This is important. I'm at the Majestic with Theona Blue.'

  'You what?' She could feel curiosity seeping through her anger and pain. Eugene, curled against her back, spoon-fashion, continued to fondle her bush, and she couldn't help easing her buttocks towards him. His dick was erect, yet again.

  'I've spent the evening with Theona Blue. It's been most enlightening. She knows Vincent Gabor, or rather, did know him. I think we've got a lead on him. We've got to talk about this. Where's Julia?'

  'I don't know. She hadn't come in by the time we went to bed.'

  'We?'

  'Eugene and me, if it's any of your business.'

  'Look, I'll be here all night, at the Majestic. This is my number,' and he reeled off a sequence of digits belonging to his mobile.

  'I think I already have it somewhere, but hang on, let me take it down again,' Arlene said, fumbling for her notepad and pen, always kept handy in case she got inspired in the night or wanted to jot down her dreams.

  'Call me when she arrives,' he went on. 'It's important, Arlene. She may be in danger.'

  He rang off and, swearing, she flung back the duvet and climbed out of bed. Eugene, his soot-dark eyes heavy with sleep, said, 'Who was that? What's rattled your cage, babe?'

  'It was Will,' she said grumpily. 'It's all right for some; seems he's knocking off Theona Blue. I was hoping Julia was with him, but it seems she's still at Abbey Reach. I hope she's all right.' She frowned and padded to the door, her slender spine part covered by her tangled mane.

  'Come back to bed,' Eugene urged, and lifted his side of the cover to display a penis that was impressively full and stiff.

  Upset though she was, still wanting to emasculate Marty Blake, her body responded to the sight. Eugene was a gem. He had taken her home and treated her tenderly, listened to her ranting and held her while she gave vent to a storm of angry, frustrated tears. She was growing fond of him, and this in itself scared her. Caring meant commitment, and she'd had her fingers burnt before.

  But that cock! It seemed to beckon, luring her with promises of fulfilment. She enjoyed women and vibrators, but there was nothing quite like a healthy, upright penis. Especially if it belonged to a thoroughly nice man, like Eugene.

  'You did well at the show,' Marty Blake said, sitting on the side of Vincent Gabor's spectacular bed, helping himself to coffee and eyeing Julia speculatively.

  'The show or the party?' she asked sleepily.

  'Both,' he said, with a lop-sided grin. 'You made a stunning bride.'

  'I enjoyed it,' she said, moving her bottom carefully. It seemed to be on fire, scored by the marks of the riding crop with which Vincent had chastised her prior to her penetration by Lopez's out-sized dick. But it had been worth it. When the party was over, Vincent had taken her to this splendid room and there, amidst silk sheets, she had known the greatest pleasure as he satisfied, then took her.

  Now the maid had brought her breakfast on a tray, but hardly had she time to explore the buttered toast and marmalade, orange juice and steaming coffee pot, before Marty Blake came in without a by-your-leave.

  'I shall use you again,' he said. 'Kevin's coming along in a while to fix up a photo shoot. You'd be free to come to Bermuda at a moment's notice? That's where we'll be filming next summer's range.'

  'Why, yes, I suppose so.' Julia's mind was working overtime, brushing away the languor of a sexy night. She wasn't sure what steps to take next, needing direction from Arlene and Will.

  'That's great,' Blake said, putting down his cup and sliding closer to her. 'I can see that we're going to make a first-class team. I've not forgotten the fun we had at lunchtime not so long ago. Let's do it again, now.' He unzipped quickly and got out his cock. 'Suck that,' he ordered.

  A refusal would have risked incurring the spiteful man's wrath and raised suspicions.

  He shifted position, lying on his back, fully clothed except for his naked spear pointing upwards from his flies. Though it cost her in pain from her tender weals, Julia leaned over him, cupped his balls in one hand and gripped the base of his cock with the other. He groaned as she slowly rubbed it, and his helm reared up, shining wetly. Julia lowered her head till her face was level with his prick, then she opened her mouth and slid down over the glans, working her tongue round it in little, exciting sweeps. He dug his fingers into her hair, and she remembered Gus, the first man she had ever tasted in this way. This spurred her to greater efforts, and she sank down till his tip was at the back of her throat, then she drew out again till it rested on her lips. In and out, the ebb and flow of feeling rippling down his shaft.

  She temporarily forgot that he was the fiend Arlene accused of stealing her designs, and that she was supposed to be helping her and nailing him. The touch and taste of him, the scent of his skin, seduced her. Vincent had left her early, left her still turned on when she had hoped he would be there, but Marty Blake would do instead. Her mind and emotions said no, but her wanton body said yes.

  'Don't stop,' he grated, his nails abrading her scalp.

  She glanced up, and was overwhelmed with excitement to see the expression on his face. He looked like a saint undergoing martyrdom. She had the power to do this to him. She felt omnipotent, the earth goddess incarnate. Let him and Vincent be two unprincipled schemers; at that moment she didn't care. She could be selfish too, deliberately pushing thoughts of Arlene from her mind.

  Then the door opened, and she glanced round to see Kevin mincing across the carpet. His thin face was flushed, his eyes outraged. 'Marty, I've been looking all over for you!' he cried, halting by the bed. 'As for you, bitch,' he added, and if looks could have killed she'd have been dead. 'Haven't you got enough men sniffing round you without wanting him, too? I call that greedy!'

  'Get out of here,' Blake said, unfazed by being discovered on the point of ejaculation.

  'I won't,' Kevin stated, uncharacteristically defiant. 'Tell her to go away, if anyone. I thought we were going to discuss photos with her, and this didn't include ones of her slurping on your todger.'

  Julia slipped away from Blake, swinging he
r legs over the edge of the mattress as far from Kevin as she could. 'It's all right,' she said, spreading her hands placatingly. 'I don't want to be taking up anyone's space. You're welcome to him, Kevin. Take him, with my blessing.' And she knew that what she was saying was how she truly felt. Her brain was no longer between her legs. She wanted out of there, eager to get away from the creeps and talk things over with her fellow conspirators.

  'Get into Blake's studio,' Arlene said, pacing the sitting room in a state of great agitation.

  'And how am I supposed to do that?' Julia asked, feeling guilty because only that morning she had been sucking his cock, when Arlene obviously wanted to cut it off.

  'I don't know,' Arlene snapped, on the edge. 'Use your ingenuity.'

  'Can't you profess an exaggerated admiration of his work?' Will suggested. 'Cajole him into letting you try on the Queen of the Night outfit, and express a burning desire to see the sketches from which it was designed. Dammit, you're a female, aren't you? Up to all sorts of wiles?' Although his words were caustic, they lacked any real bite when he addressed them to Julia.

  'I'll try,' she promised. She sipped her cup of milky tea and was suddenly weary of the investigation, which had turned out to be so different from what she had expected.

  'Denise is waiting for a result,' Will reminded.

  'All right, I'll tackle Blake,' she said, trying to keep the stress from her voice. It was all getting too much.

  'You better had,' Arlene retorted, then added a grim rider, 'It's Gabor we want to nail as much as Blake. What he's done is child's play compared to Gabor's heinous crimes. He's dealing in drugs and arms and laundering the loot through his other businesses, chief of which is the clothing industry, including sponsoring Blake.'

  'That's evil,' Julia murmured, and her feelings of shame and guilt multiplied. She didn't know much about high finance, politics or illegal trafficking, and found it hard to relate such a charismatic man with trade in arms abroad, and the importation of drugs known to do insuperable harm to the unfortunates hooked on them.