by Jane Adams
She captured some beautiful candid shots of the musicians and Carole and Sam chatting and laughing together, as they got themselves organized. Then she returned to the gallery, examining the way the light and shadows fell and wondering if she could manipulate the lighting later on so that it cast shadows in a different direction. The work had an organic feel to it. There were some bronzes this time as well, which was a new departure for Carole. She hadn’t got the facilities for casting in her own studio but she’d worked very closely with the little manufactory who had taken over that part of the job and she’d made the decision that the maquettes should also be put on show and the process explained in photographs Petra had taken during the casting. Petra knew that those who had actually done the casting for her would be guests tonight and that Carole intended to introduce them to everybody. Petra liked that Carole recognized she could not have produced these pieces of art without their input.
Carole came back in, looking much more at ease now.
“What time is your dad arriving?” Petra asked. She knew from experience Gus Perrin would be among the first to get there, and she wanted to be in position to photograph him as he came in. Gus Perrin and his entourage always created an impact.
Carole grimaced. “He said he’d text five minutes before they got here. ‘So we can be suitably prepared.’” She laughed. “After all, he is paying for most of this.”
He also owns the hotel, Petra thought.
“Where can I stow my stuff? I don’t want people falling over my camera bag. Can I slide it under the buffet table? Under the end there? That way, I can get to things easily but I won’t be in anyone’s way.”
“You just put your stuff anywhere you like,” Carole told her. “I’m just grateful to have a friend like you doing this.”
Petra gave her a quick hug. She felt a pang of guilt whenever Carole said things like that. She genuinely did like this woman and she liked Sam Barker as well, and Sam’s partner. Somehow, she didn’t count them as part of the Perrin clan, though she knew that her handler would not agree about that. He saw the whole damn lot as corrupt. She was aware that Carole often chose not to see things, chose not to know what was going on. But quite honestly, she couldn’t blame her for that.
Carole’s phone chimed. “That was my dad. He says the first three cars are about to arrive. He’s early as always but wants to have a look around first.”
And to get his pictures taken before everyone else arrived, Petra thought. Pictures that would advertise what an art lover he was, what a champion of culture. Gus Perrin was very conscious of his public image.
A few minutes later, she was involved in her task. She’d exchanged a smile with Billy as he’d come in, wheeling his boss up to the first of Carole’s artworks. Petra framed her first shot, Gus Perrin looking thoughtful while his daughter explained what this was about. Billy had backed off and stood in the background, smirking. She tried not to look at him and focused on her task. Others had begun to arrive now, and Sam was helping check the list at the door, taking coats, making sure people had drinks. Petra exchanged a quick glance with Carole’s assistant, before turning the camera on the crowd that was now flocking in, booted, suited, bejewelled and perfumed. She was suddenly profoundly glad that Billy had insisted on buying her dress, shoes and bag for the evening. Nothing she could have afforded would have fitted in here.
Billy had wheeled Gus Perrin over to her side and she turned with a smile. “Mr Perrin, this is going to be a wonderful event.”
She noted that he was wearing a black armband on his jacket, as was Billy and the rest of the entourage. Charlie Perrin was being discreetly acknowledged, the ghost at the feast.
“And you, Pat, are looking very beautiful this evening,” he told her. “Billy is a very lucky man. I’m going to be slipping out of here in about half an hour, just quiet like. I don’t want to spoil Carole’s evening, but I’ve got a business meeting lined up. So you’ll not mind if I steal your man away?”
Billy leaned in to kiss her cheek and then her lips. “Will I see you later?” she asked.
It was Gus Perrin who answered. “He’ll be popping in to collect a few bits, love. But he’s got a job to do for me.”
Petra allowed her eyes to widen slightly. She lifted her camera. “Better get on,” she said. She could feel the nervousness engulfing her, that sense of anticipation that something big was happening. How is Lauren coping? she wondered. What should I do next? In some ways, Billy being away would make things easier, but where was he going, what was he doing? What was the so-called business meeting about?
She made her way to the buffet table to get a second camera out from her equipment bag and noticed a slip of paper tucked inside that hadn’t been there before. She shoved it down beneath a lens that she knew she would not be using tonight, straightened up and went back into the fray.
Chapter 33
Lauren sat on the bed waiting for the phone to ring, willing the phone to ring. Petra had not been in touch at all that day and she was now feeling restless and even more alone. All she seemed to be doing at the moment was eating and sleeping, though she’d added quite a bit to her account of her father’s doings and contacts. She had no idea if any of this would be useful, or if any of it constituted information the police did not already have. Truthfully, she wasn’t even sure she intended it for the police — after all, what had they ever done for her? They’d locked up some poor sod for killing her mother, when she had known, even though she’d only been a kid at the time, that it had been her father’s doing. She had pretty much decided that if Petra didn’t get in touch the following day, then she would take things into her own hands. She could catch a train and disappear. She felt instinctively that once she’d got used to city life, learned to blend in better, the urban environment would be a better place to hide. Remote did not necessarily mean safe. Remote could mean exposed.
It was very, very late when her phone eventually rang. She snatched it up and answered immediately.
“I thought you’d forgotten about me.” She tried to keep her voice light but she wasn’t really fooling anyone.
Petra ignored the comment. “Listen, I’m just checking in very quickly. I’ll call you later and let you know what’s happening, when I know more. Meantime, just sit tight, OK?”
“OK,” Lauren agreed. Petra was speaking very quietly, then she rang off abruptly. Lauren didn’t need to be told that she must be taking a risk. She was grateful for the contact, however brief. But what was happening? Petra sounded tense and that was not good.
* * *
It was almost two a.m. when Billy finally made it home. Petra was in bed reading.
“I waited up for you. Well, I waited in bed for you, that’s kind of the same thing. It was a good evening, Carole sold several pieces so she’s really chuffed.”
He sat down on the bed and kissed her. “That’s good. I’m pleased. She deserves it, she works hard. Look, I’ve just got to put things in a bag, there’s a car waiting downstairs. I’ll probably be gone a few days.”
“Gone where?” she said in her best wheedling tone. “Or aren’t I supposed to know?”
“No, you are not supposed to know. And I can’t tell you, because I don’t know either.”
She pouted, but inside she felt anxious. “So is it because of this so-called business meeting?”
“A business meeting, yes. Our Kyle Sykes was there and boy, did the boss give him a dressing down. He was squirming.”
She leaned forward. “Has his daughter turned up yet?”
Billy laughed. “Not likely to if she’s got any sense, is she?”
“Oh? Why is that, then?”
Billy tapped the side of his nose. “Best keep out of this, eh? But it seems he can’t find her, so the boss says we’ll give him a hand. See if we can’t sort it out for him.”
She opened her eyes wide. She knew he liked it when she looked admiring or even a little shocked. “You want me to help you pack?”
; “Nah, just need to slip a couple of other things in my go-bag and then we’re done.” He went over to the wardrobe and pulled out a soft leather holdall and dropped it onto the bed. She moved her feet out of the way. He took another pair of shoes from the bottom of the wardrobe, put those into a shoe bag and then inside the holdall. She knew it was already packed with shirts and trousers and a spare jacket. It didn’t matter where they went, Gus liked his men to be smart. He lifted a panel in the bottom of the wardrobe, removed something wrapped in a red cloth and added that to the bag too. She didn’t need to ask what it was — he had shown her once. Billy favoured the Glock 17. A box of ammunition went into the side pocket.
“Billy?” She didn’t need to pretend to look concerned. “Billy, I don’t like this. What’s going on?”
“Not something you need to worry about. You get those photos processed and sorted tomorrow, the boss will want to see them before they go off anywhere else.”
She nodded. Of course he would. Everything had to be run by Gus Perrin before it was used anywhere. Though to give him his due, she found herself thinking, he had a good eye. She frowned, annoyed at that stupid random thought intruding, but Billy had not noticed. He had closed the wardrobe doors and was now shrugging on his coat.
“Best get off, they’re waiting for me. Laying bets on how long I’m going to be,” he added. “They’ll reckon I won’t be going anywhere without giving you one for the road.”
She got out of bed and gave him a hug that she realized was partly meant. She wasn’t in love with him, but she didn’t particularly want him getting hurt. Nor did she want him hurting anyone else. Especially not Lauren. Not that it was much of a surprise to hear the girl now had Gus Perrin and his organization chasing her tail as well as Kyle Sykes and his men. Petra had been out of her depth before, but now she and Lauren really were in danger of drowning.
There was one question she wanted to ask him before he went. She decided to ask it now, while he had his arm around her, while she could feel he was giving serious thought as to whether another five minutes or so would make any difference to his schedule.
“Did someone come here the other night?” she asked. “I woke up, and you weren’t in bed, then I thought I heard voices.” She smiled up at him. “Couldn’t be bothered to come and find out who it was, so I went back to sleep and when I woke up, you were there again.”
She felt his body stiffen, and then he squeezed her bum and said, “Freddie called round. Told him it was bloody late, but you know Fred. Finishes at the casino, and for him it’s breakfast time, he thinks everyone else is wide awake too.”
She laughed. “Yeah, that’s Freddie.” Then, as though something had suddenly struck her, she moved in closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You will be OK, won’t you? Only there seems to be so much going on at the minute. It’s got me worried.”
He took hold of her, held her away so he could see her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you know . . . on the news, those three dead. Those three who were killed by the canal. Sykes’s men. On the way to the gallery, I drove that way, I was just being kind of nosy. It’s still absolutely crawling with police. I mean, I know Gus and Kyle Sykes don’t get on . . . Do you think . . . I mean . . . Billy, I do worry about you.”
To her surprise, he was laughing. “You think Gus ordered that done? Where do you get these ideas from, girl? It was nothing to do with any of us. Sykes did for his own.”
“What? Why would he do that? I don’t understand, Billy.”
He was hugging her again now, stroking her back and groping her bum. She sensed that he liked this display of naivety, liked to think she wasn’t always quite as confident or as knowledgeable as she wanted the world to believe. “I thought you had a brain in that head of yours?” he said.
“I have a very good brain,” she objected.
“Yeah,” he conceded. “You have. But it’s a straight brain.”
“What’s that mean? I can’t think round corners?”
He looked at her. “It was something to do with that kid of his, the one we’re off looking for.”
“Sykes? What about his kid?”
He leaned in and kissed her. “You ask too many questions, you know that? It’s a dangerous trait, asking too many questions.”
Her heart skipped a beat at that comment, but she pouted and pulled away. Billy just laughed at her. “Sykes did for old Harry Prentice, too. The boss reckons it was him who helped the girl run, after Charlie.”
“After Charlie?” She looked puzzled. “You mean after Charlie shot himself? That was just an accident, wasn’t it?”
“So the rest of the world thinks.” Billy was clearly enjoying himself. “The boss is not a happy man. He told Sykes to sort it. So far, he’s not done. The girl’s still in the wind, and killing old Harry is not going to have satisfied Gus. Gus is out for blood, but it has to be the right blood, if you get my meaning.”
“Oh my God.” Petra sounded suitably shocked. “You mean the girl had something to do with Charlie’s death?”
“Not a word.” Suddenly Billy was deathly serious. His gaze hardened as he realized he had told her too much. “You don’t talk about this, you got that?”
She nodded. She didn’t have to fake the scared look on her face. When Billy’s mood spun like this, he was genuinely frightening.
He left, and Petra was very relieved when she heard the front door slam. She had asked too many questions and he had given too many answers. She knew from experience that once he’d put distance between them, he would automatically forget what she’d asked, automatically reassure himself that he had said nothing that could not have been shouted in the street. This, she had learned, was Billy’s way of accommodating his own need to boast and hers to listen. He liked to impress her, she knew that.
She reran the conversation in her head. He had said nothing about the other man who had arrived with Freddie and she had known not to push it. Perhaps one of the reasons he’d been expansive about other things was that he had not liked her question about the late-night visitors and had wanted to distract her. She felt that he had not even liked the fact that she’d known they’d called around to see him. And, she sensed, though he seemed fine about Freddie, he was not happy at all about this other man coming into his house.
Chapter 34
Petra had not yet looked at the slip of paper she’d noticed in her camera bag. She waited until she was absolutely certain that Billy had gone before she searched it out. It turned out to be a sliver of paper torn from the top of the menu for a local coffee shop and she knew that this was a message meaning that a meeting had been arranged. Somebody would be there at prearranged times in the hope that she could turn up to one of them.
It was rare for a meeting to be arranged. Petra herself discouraged them. It spoke of urgency. Though on this occasion, she was quite glad of it. She wanted to confide in somebody about the DCI she had seen a couple of nights before. What the hell had he been doing here? She also needed help regarding Lauren. She had to get back to the girl with some information. She had to let Lauren know that there was a way out of this, though for the life of her, Petra couldn’t fathom what that might be. But she at least had to call Lauren and reassure her that she’d not been abandoned.
She went downstairs and locked all the doors, bolting them from the inside so that even if Billy happened to come back with his keys, he’d have to ring the bell. He knew she did this when she was in the house on her own, encouraged it even, so it would not seem strange. Then she went back upstairs and called Lauren’s number. She had her listed under the name of a firm she used when she wanted physical giclée prints of her photographs. Petra had no password protection, or any kind of lock on her phone, nothing that would make Billy suspicious. He would occasionally pick it up and go through her texts.
Lauren again picked up on the first ring.
“Sorry it had to be short earlier,” Petra told her. “You understand I
have to be careful.”
“I understand you’re no safer than I am,” Lauren told her. “In fact, right now, I’m probably in a better place than you are.”
Isn’t that the truth? Petra thought.
“Look,” Lauren continued. “If you can’t get me out of here in the next day or two, then I’m going to catch a train somewhere, I’m going to take it into my own hands. I can’t stay here forever eating room service meals and watching TV, and I can’t put you in any more danger than you are in already. I won’t be responsible for another death.”
“It won’t come to that. Listen, tomorrow I’ll know what to do, but you’ve got to be ready and, Lauren, you won’t like this — but I think we’ve got to go to the police with this one. No — hear me out — there are people I know I can trust.” I hope.
“I think my way might be better.”
She might be right, Petra thought. “I’ve got a meeting with someone tomorrow. After that, I’ll get back to you and we’ll sort it all out. In the meantime, promise me you’ll stay put. And, Lauren, there’s something you’ve got to know. Gus Perrin is not best pleased that your dad hasn’t dealt with . . . with you.”
“So Perrin’s after me too, is he?”
She sounds so calm, so controlled for someone at breaking point, Petra thought. “Stay put. If I can’t get to you myself, I will send somebody. Tomorrow, I promise.”
“I told you.” Lauren’s voice was steady, but Petra could feel the tension. “Don’t ever make promises you can’t keep. Promise you’ll try, that’s enough.”
“I promise I’ll do my best,” Petra told her. Who is the adult here? she wondered. “Try and get some sleep and try not to worry.” She realized as she said it how stupid that sounded. Lauren evidently thought so too because she hung up.