by DaNeo Duran
She felt small. ‘I’ll miss you.’
‘I miss you already,’ she said reciprocating the hug.
Releasing her slightly he looked into the face he’d never tire of, savouring the moment. He stared at her lips, fighting the desire to kiss her. He thought he recognised an equal longing flicker in her eyes. He must have been wrong.
Abruptly she pulled away. ‘Johnny.’
‘What?’ he said. ‘I don’t believe this.’
‘Well neither do I.’ She sounded more pained than ever.
He turned her round and tried to hug her again.
‘Don’t. Don’t you realise I had a boyfriend ten minutes ago?’
‘An idiot. Another one.’ He stepped backwards. ‘When you gonna realise someone right here wants to do the right thing by you?’
From outside they heard the cab’s horn hurrying him.
‘Forget it.’ Johnny made for the door. ‘I’ll get you the rest of your money soon.’
Linda started to say something but he felt too disappointed to listen. He looked back at her but saw no trace of what he thought he’d seen before.
‘You know what, I’m the idiot here. I’m not qualified to insult anyone.’
‘Johnny—’
‘I’ll call you from England. I’m sure you’ll have found a new boyfriend by then; another beefcake. Just let me know when it goes wrong and I’ll be back to knock him out too.’
He stormed off and down the stairs. Crossing the tarmac he grabbed the cab’s door handle nearly removing it with frustration.
‘Johnny.’
He looked up seeing Linda at her window.
‘It’s all in a kiss,’ she shrieked.
He stared back without comprehension. ‘I’m delighted for you.’
He hadn’t meant to be so angry and regretted leaving her with the heavies. At least they seemed securely bound. Fortuitously a police patrol car passed them at the entrance to the car park.
* * *
In her office Linda took a deep breath and tried not to cry. The taxi disappeared.
A patrol car’s siren peeped with a flash of blue and red announcing its arrival.
‘Here we go,’ Linda said aloud on her way downstairs.
‘Ms Lake,’ the lady police officer said getting out her car.
‘Officer Deveraux.’ Linda recognised her as the same lady who called round when she’d found her office flooded.
She motioned to the gaffered men. ‘These the guys that burst your pipe?’
‘Maybe.’ Linda ushered her out of earshot. ‘One of them’s a parole violator.’
Officer Deveraux listened then radioed the station for backup.
After both exes had been taken away Officer Deveraux took full details from Linda. ‘So, these USed Wonz are getting on a plane to London right now?’
‘Yes.’
‘They’re the guys who sing, Million Memories?’
‘That’s right, they played the Whisky last night.’
‘Damn, I should’ve been there. Anyway,’ she refocused, ‘we’ll need to speak to them.’
Linda said that might be a problem.
‘See if I’ve got this right,’ Officer Deveraux said, ‘you were dating both those guys whose asses we just hauled away and you’ve just fallen out with the band’s awesomely handsome singer because he was coming on to you?’
‘Correct,’ Linda said.
‘I gotta get me one of them Lotuses. Let’s have the details of where they’re staying in London. Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of this.’
Officer Deveraux left with the wallet of fake ID after Linda promised to get her backstage passes should The USed Wonz return to gig America.
Back on the phone Linda rang her glazier. ‘I’ve got another job for you – urgent; the people in the office below mine hate me as it is.’
* * *
Linda had been in the office over two hours. Fretting, she worried anything her two ex-goons had done wouldn’t be provable. Would the fake ID be enough to link Dwight to Kansas? Would they be released without charge? She realised how badly the police needed Johnny’s statement. She wished she’d asked him to stay.
Her reverie broke with the sound of the phone. She glanced at the clock Johnny wouldn’t have boarded the plane yet. Poor boy he’d be terrified. Her hand hovered over the receiver; he might still be angry with her. Oh well.
‘Linda?’ a female voice snapped.
‘Who is this?’
‘Trudie, what’s going on with The USed Wonz?’
On her feet Linda wanted to smash the receiver back down having never heard Trudie angry. ‘What’s with the tone? After the morning I’ve had with that band I don’t need this.’ Silence. She wondered if Trudie had hung up on her. ‘Trudie?’
‘So it’s true.’ She’d softened.
‘What?’
‘The USed Wonz are finished.’
‘What?’ Linda sat back down. ‘I really don’t need this.’
‘So this is news to you?’
‘What are you saying?’
‘We’re expecting them to fly in tonight.’
‘Yes, they’ve not long left for the airport.’
‘Well that’s something. At least I can personally throttle them.’
Given what she’d seen of Johnny and Stu in combat she doubted it. It had been like watching Popeyes clonking Blutos whist she stood helpless like Olive Oyl.
‘Trudie, what do you mean saying they’re finished?’
‘D’you remember last time we spoke, I told you very quietly that I was being considered for that senior management position?’
‘Yes, I haven’t breathed a word to anyone.’
‘Okay, but one of my staff has basically told me I can forget it. Patrick Phillips is getting it.’
‘Who, why?’
‘Because apparently The USed Wonz lost their next album’s advance. There’s a rumour all over Southern States AOR and it checks out. I mean what were they doing with the advance anyway? I thought Richard at GMD never released penny one until the last minute.’
‘Trudie, calm down. Let me think a second.’ Linda took a moment. ‘The band’s advance is safe.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Certain. The rumour can’t check out, it’s unsubstantiated.’
‘So why are their Production Annex studio sessions cancelled?’
‘What?’ Linda’s head spun.
She explained what she could to Trudie and how she’d reimbursed the band what had been lost at the poker table. Perhaps the attack on her business hadn’t been Dwight and Earl’s only intentions after all.
Trudie said, ‘I tried ringing GMD but got no answer.’
‘Good. If they don’t know about the lost money, that’s fine. It’s between me and the band now.’
‘Fair enough, but they need to know about the cancelled studio sessions.’
Thoughts whizzed around Linda’s mind. She caught a most unlikely one. ‘Just out of interest have you met this guy who’s getting your promotion?’
‘Patrick Phillips, yeah I’ve met him in New York.’
‘He doesn’t have prematurely silver hair does he?’
‘Yeah, why?’
‘Because if he’s who I think he is, he’ll have a difficult time filling that new position from jail.’
Saturday 30th June 1984
Johnny spotted a public phone and checked his watch. Heathrow still flourished with activity at 2am.
He considered it’d still be Friday in LA – 6pm. Would Linda have left the office? After her early start and the day she’d had, he doubted it. Dane had sorted English currency out for them but not enough change to phone her, even to apologise for shouting.
Mazz kissed his cheek. ‘Come on lover boy.’
Having been on a plane four times, Johnny had less euphoria about having landed safely than previous flights especially following his fallout with Linda.
Minus the few items they’d left in st
orage, The USed Wonz loaded trollies with their worldly belongings and made for arrivals guessing nobody would greet them. They knew to head for the Regent Palace Hotel; their schedule would begin on Monday with a meeting at the GMD office.
But when the bandmates rounded the corner Johnny eyed an attractive and strangely familiar woman looking round like a meerkat sentry.
‘Is that . . ?’ Mazz said tugging Christine’s sleeve. ‘It is, it’s Trudie.’
Johnny and Stu looked at one another raising appreciative eyebrows.
Mazz dashed ahead to greet her. ‘Wow, what happened you look incredible?’
‘Katherine happened,’ Trudie said proudly.
‘Katherine?’
‘You remember her, she’s Calvin’s girlfriend; you know – from Little Spirit. She’s a style consultant now.’
The band found Trudie of all people meeting them perplexing.
She said, ‘Look guys, I spoke to Linda as I was wrapping up for the day.’
‘How is she?’ Johnny asked, ‘I kinda yelled at her before we left.’
Trudie shook her head. ‘Yeah so did I. She’s okay though.’
‘Why would you shout at her?’ Mazz asked.
‘Because a little bird told me you’d lost the recording advance GMD gave you.’
Johnny’s brow knotted. ‘Who told you that – Linda?’
‘Not Linda. No she calmed me down. I know you’ve only just landed but I’ve got to know something Johnny.’ She unfolded a piece of paper. ‘It’s a really bad Xerox but is this the guy you met in Kansas?’
Johnny took the offered sheet. He guessed she’d photocopied a Vanquar mug shot.
‘Thanks Johnny,’ she said.
‘I haven’t said anything yet.’
‘Your expression says it all. You’re sure it’s him right?’
‘Sure; bad tempered Yul Bryner face and silver hair. Who is he?’
Monday 02nd July 1984
The intercom buzzed on Patrick Phillips’ desk before he’d even sat down that morning.
Thanking Stacey, he smoothed his trendiest suit and combed his silver hair one last time.
Outside his office; head held high on pride he glanced at his secretary.
‘Good luck sir,’ Stacey said.
He winked knowing how smug his smile must have looked.
Upstairs he floated past walls adorned with platinum discs and knocked on the rose wood door. A chirpy voice told him to enter. He took a deep breath and entered the boardroom’s morning brilliance.
‘There he is,’ Marcel said.
Patrick surveyed the room. He’d expected Marcel, the self-satisfied Italian-American with his thick mop of shiny black hair. But he’d expected to see Buff Vickers too.
Instead, Chase, Marcel’s equally self-satisfied impossibly long-legged blonde assistant, sat beside him.
Patrick approached the boardroom table.
Opposite Marcel and Chase, he reached one of fourteen leather chairs but Marcel’s expression told him not to sit.
‘I bet you can guess what this is about,’ Marcel said but didn’t wait for a response. ‘Obviously Buff Vickers is retiring; we’re sorry to see him go. But that creates space a little nearer the top.’
Patrick smiled.
‘Now you shouldn’t know this; of course rumours do travel,’ Marcel said without detectable irony, ‘but the shortlist of candidates ended up, very short.’
Chase grinned at him; a damned sexy smile Patrick unexpectedly noted.
‘In truth,’ Marcel continued, ‘the list might have been a tad longer but Dave Whitaker, head of A&R Vanquar-UK, didn’t himself want to relocate.’
Yup, thanks for sharing that useless piece of news Marcel, Patrick thought.
‘But, Dave did bring Trudie Hudson to our attention.’
Like Patrick didn’t know already. But if the list had come down to just him and her surely Buff should be here to shake his hand and welcome him.
‘With Buff leaving we’ve the chance to explore new ideas and directions,’ Marcel said.’
Patrick liked the sound of this.
‘And you and Trudie brought some very interesting ideas. Whilst Trudie suggested bettering the name of Vanquar by involving independent companies home and abroad, your ideas are at odds but still with Vanquar’s best interest. You’ve suggested ridding Vanquar-USA of overseas bands in order to invest in home-grown talent; a noble idea that should bring hope to US bands and attract them to us.’
Marcel sat back.
‘We don’t like making rash decisions. But, Buff starts his retirement tomorrow; a holiday in Miami.’
Patrick wondered how long it’d take Marcel to reach the point.
‘I’ve invited Chase to take notes.’
That seemed irregular but on the other hand Patrick had never accepted such a senior position.
Marcel suddenly didn’t seem so smiley. ‘Unfortunately it seems Trudie has egg on her face.’
Patrick forced himself not to grin; unfortunate for some maybe.
‘It’s come to our attention that a band in her portfolio has been careless.’
Marcel checked the notes in the report before him. Patrick didn’t like how official it looked.
‘An independent signing to a UK label, this band somehow ended up with their next album’s recording advance soon enough to lose it.’ Marcel looked up. ‘And, that’s exactly what they did.’
Bingo.
‘It sort of reflects badly on Trudie’s philosophy of outsourcing to independent companies wouldn’t you say Patrick?’
‘I guess so,’ he said speaking for the first time in ages.
‘You don’t think a similar fate could have befallen one of your own acts?’
‘Well, I wouldn’t have forwarded an advance so soon.’
‘Would it surprise you to know said band are back in London?’
He shrugged. Why would it?
‘You know of which band I’m referring to?’
‘I heard something, I guess.’
‘You guess.’ Marcel studied Patrick’s face. ‘You’d be forgiven for thinking after losing their advance The USed Wonz would be ruined. And, if anyone checked, they’d know their Production Annex studio sessions have been cancelled.’
Now what’s he getting at?
’Did you know the band’s independent agent Linda Lake reimbursed the band their lost money?’
‘No.’ Patrick ground his teeth. Still, their studio sessions are cancelled.
‘Would it surprise you to know The USed Wonz start recording their second album tomorrow?’
Yes, that damn well would surprise him. Confused, elation switched as Patrick tried to keep the anger beneath his expression. How could this be? He noticed Chase’s smile. Not so sexy now.
He stepped forwards resting his weight on the back of the chair in front of him and forced himself to say, ‘I wouldn’t know anything about that.’
Marcel faced his notes. ‘You heard of Little Spirit?’
‘UK band, another of Trudie’s.’
‘That’s right. They recorded at the same place The USed Wonz did but since becoming an overnight success their producer’s been overrun with bands sent by record companies wanting him to replicate the “Little Spirit sound”. As I understand said producer, some hotshot called Austin Blake of said Production Annex, wants a break from his own studio.’
Patrick didn’t dare speak.
‘Little Spirit, it may interest you to know, have already made us and their label a small fortune.’ Marcel looked at his watch. ‘The USed Wonz will be finished their meeting now.’
Patrick rolled his eyes.
‘Their advance has been added to and they’ll be joining Austin Blake in Virgin’s Town House tomorrow; Studio-2 I believe – the one that gets that massive drum sound.’
‘Impressive,’ Patrick said.
Chase wrote that down along with everything else he’d uttered.
‘Apparently their demo warr
ants it. I wonder if we’ll be distributing the results.’
Patrick hoped Marcel couldn’t hear his thoughts.
‘Is there anything you’d like to say about all of this Patrick?’
‘No.’
Marcel rubbed his chin. ‘I received a call to my house on Saturday. Dave Whitaker on behalf of Trudie. It’s Monday and I’ve not checked with accounts yet.’
And now what’s he on about now? Patrick wondered.
‘I’m hoping I won’t find an erroneous payment of several thousand dollars to the state of California?’
‘Not sanctioned by me if that’s what you’re implying,’ Patrick said as Marcel’s insinuation dawned. He leant more weight on the chair’s leather back.
‘Good. Someone posted bail for Earl Atherton. You know him?’
‘No.’
‘Just as well, it’d have been a waste of money.’
‘Why’s that?’ he asked wishing he hadn’t.
‘Because he and his brother Kyle, who was on parole, were arrested on Friday.’
J.H. Ker-riste. As casually as possible Patrick pulled the chair out and sat down.
Marcel pursed his lips. ‘I didn’t invite you to sit.’
Screw you. Patrick didn’t move.
Marcel said, ‘I’m led to believe the egg on Trudie’s face has been deliberately put there. Worse still, I’m told that Johnny Won of The USed Wonz has identified you in connection with these two rearrested brothers.’
Patrick felt his kneecaps tremble.
‘Of course Patrick, the whole thing could be a conspiracy against your application for this higher position …’ Marcel let the words hang before continuing, ‘… and not the other way round, which is how it looks.’
Patrick willed himself to keep it together.
‘You see Trudie, The USed Wonz and Linda Lake in California are of the opinion that Earl (angry for having to do time following repeated violent attacks against Linda Lake) had convinced his brother to help him put Linda’s company out of business. And it seems as Earl went into prison Kyle was on his way out but said he’d do what he could to free his brother and bring Lake: All Starts Entertainment down.’
And now I’m coming down. Patrick’s mouth went dry.
‘Kyle knew someone who knew somebody in Vanquar interested to help and who indeed posted Earl’s bail. Linda moved offices but Kyle also knew someone who removed Linda’s postal redirection service so she missed the letter from her lawyer saying Earl was out of prison.’
Marcel checked his notes again. ‘Who else did they know? Ah, someone to sort out fake ID.’ He looked at Patrick. ‘After Earl was freed the brothers violated parole by flying to Kansas where, with the help of someone matching your description, ripped off The USed Wonz and paid back the bail the guy had so kindly posted before returning to LA where they continued eroding Linda Lake’s business. Nasty men, though Kyle, who’s been using the name Dwight, is most repentant apparently.’