by Mark Timlin
More she wanted and more she got. And by the time we’d both had more, our bodies were sore and bruised from the friction and my bandage was wet with fresh blood.
There seemed to be nothing I could do that would quench her desire. I fucked her in every orifice, but there constantly seemed to be more hungry holes to fill. Finally I could take no more and I fell asleep on top of her as the dawn clambered through the windows.
When I woke up there was no trace of her except for the cigarette in the glass by the bedside and I wondered if I’d dreamt the whole thing.
19
I came to finally about nine. I hadn’t slept so well in months. I lay in my sleazy bed and thought about the previous night. I didn’t know how I felt. A bit like the cat that got the cream and a bit of a jerk.
I rolled out of bed eventually and hit the shower. I let scalding water pummel some life back into my tired body and then turned the temperature to cold and let that pummel some life back into my tired brain. I tried to keep my bandage dry but didn’t totally succeed. I shaved and cleaned my teeth and got dressed, then went looking for a cup of coffee.
I went down to the breakfast room. It was deserted. I ate breakfast alone and not even a servant came to interrupt my solitude. I’d much rather have eaten in the mucky little café in Tulse Hill where I normally went. At least there was some company and you could borrow someone’s paper.
I left the dishes on the table and went back to my room. As I walked through the door the phone rang. I looked at my watch. It was ten o’clock precisely. I picked up the receiver. ‘Hello.’
Silence.
‘Hello,’ I said again.
‘Mr Sharman, it’s Vincent.’ His voice sounded strange.
‘Vincent, what do you want?’
‘I need to see you.’
‘Well, come and see me then.’
‘I can’t. I’m down in the garage, would you come down?’
‘What’s it all about?’
‘I can’t tell you on the phone, just come down.’
‘All right, Vincent,’ I said. ‘If you insist.’
I took the lift down to the garage level and walked in. The Rolls stood there, gleaming, with the driver’s door open. The garage telephone receiver was off the hook and it hung down the wall by its curly wire. The concrete bunker smelt of petrol and exhaust, polish and, way back, old dirt and cold decay.
‘Vincent,’ I called.
No answer. My voice echoed around the interior of the garage. I went over to the car. Vincent’s cap was lying on the driver’s seat. The keys were in the ignition and the ignition was switched on far enough to allow all the power options to operate, but the engine itself was off. I heard the hiss from the air-conditioning system and I killed the ignition. Silence.
‘Vincent,’ I called again. Again my voice bounced off the walls and dropped to the floor like a tennis ball with loads of bottom spin.
I stood for ten seconds, then I heard something from behind the wall that separated the garage from the rest of the cellars. I turned on my heel and walked towards the empty arch and looked into the dusty darkness.
Someone touched a switch and fluorescent tubes winked on. I scrunched my eyes up against the glare. Vincent was standing, spreadeagled, facing one wall with his hands against the concrete. His uniform was dirty and crumpled and his hair was mussed. A short, wide man with thinning black hair, wearing a lightweight, beige, two-piece suit and a slightly darker shirt buttoned to the collar, sans tie, was standing beside Vincent with a heavy automatic pistol fitted with a silencer stuck into the chauffeur’s kidneys. Another, taller, man with ginger hair, a leather jacket and chinos was leaning against a metal tool cabinet next to the light switches. He was wearing black leather gloves and in his right hand held another pistol, similarly fitted with a silencer tube.
‘G’day,’ he said. Even if his accent hadn’t been Australian, and the voice the same voice that had threatened to kill me in my room two nights before, I would have recognised the gun and gloves anywhere. ‘I thought we told you to be out of here last night,’ he said.
‘Something came up.’
‘You should have gone.’
‘I know, I’m a fool to myself sometimes.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘The police are still around,’ I said.
‘You don’t say. Mates of yours, are they?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Maybe, huh? Maybe’s right, mate. Got any with you?’
He didn’t wait for an answer, but pushed away from the cabinet, dusted down his sleeve and walked round me, keeping the gun trained on my middle. He looked back into the garage. I followed him with my eyes but didn’t move a muscle.
‘No, I thought not,’ he said. ‘You don’t like the cops, do you? And they don’t like you. We’re here for our money, pal.’
‘Why tell me? I don’t hold the cheque book around here. I’m just on hire.’
‘I don’t suppose you do, and we know exactly where you fit in. But as you decided to stay, you’re going to get the money for us.’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I do.’
‘What would you say if I told you there wasn’t that sort of money around?’
‘I’d say you were telling me lies. So don’t spoil my morning. It’s been fun so far.’
‘The money is just not available.’
He laughed and showed a set of perfectly capped teeth. ‘The situation has changed. Have you spoken to Catherine Pike this morning?’
‘No.’
‘No, he says. And you won’t, mate.’
I felt an itching premonition alone my spine. ‘Have you hurt her?’
‘No, she’s in fine shape. A real good-looking woman. I wouldn’t mind a go at her myself, but I know where she’s been, don’t I son?’ His eyes slipped towards his mate and then back to me.
‘You do,’ said the wide man.
I wondered if he did. ‘Does she know where you’ve been?’
‘Very amusing, I like a man with a ready wit,’ said the ginger man. ‘But don’t get carried away with it or I’ll have to alter your clock.’
‘We’re not even introduced and you’re already getting playful,’ I said.
‘We know who you are, that’s what’s important. Now just lean against the wall next to the other monkey there and we’ll see if you’ve been down the store and picked up another of those little peashooters like the one we took off you the other night.’
‘Not even a slingshot,’ I said.
‘Against the wall or I’ll rearrange your bloody face.’
I did as I was told. He stashed his pistol under his jacket and gave me a thorough frisking. I tried not to flinch when his hands roughly touched the wound on my side. The wide man moved slightly so he could cover both Vincent and me with his gun.
‘All right,’ said the ginger man when he’d finished.
‘I told you,’ I said. ‘But maybe touching men is your thing.’
‘Shut it,’ Ginger said, taking his pistol out again and casually swinging it between Vincent and me. ‘Now, to get back to young Catherine. We’ve decided that the only way to get our money is if we’ve got some real bargaining power. So Mr Lorimar’s taken her on a little trip. He’s known her a long time and he’s not as choosy as me.’
‘You slag.’
‘Naughty, naughty. Don’t get personal, Sharman, or I’ll hurt you.’
‘Where has he taken her?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know? But I think we’ll keep that our little secret until you’ – he pushed his gun into my face for emphasis – ‘get us the cash in untraceable old notes. Then she’ll be back safe and sound. Sound as a pound. Yeah, man?’ His eyes slithered to his accomplice again.
‘That’s right,’ said the wide man.
‘Is he telling the truth?’ I asked Vincent.
He looked sheepish but said nothing. I took it as an affirmative.
The ginger man put hi
s fingers to his lips. ‘I didn’t say you two could have a convo about it. Take my word, Sharman, she’s ours and ours she’s going to stay. Now, no police, just one million pounds sterling and the whore is yours.’
‘You’re living in a fantasy,’ I said. ‘Who the hell am I supposed to get a million pounds from? Tell me that.’
‘Don’t be purposefully obtuse, son,’ he said and gestured around the bare walls. ‘Use your head. The family is dripping with loot. It’s coming out of their ears. Tell Elizabeth to get her hands on some of it. If she doesn’t, her sister is going to turn up floating in the Thames. Just do it. Take the message like a good boy. We’ll talk to you tonight. Stay by the phone. We’ll be off now. Don’t bother to come with us, we’ll see ourselves out.’
They backed out into the garage proper, guns in hands, and I heard their footsteps on the floor and the small garage door open and close.
20
I stuck my head around the corner of the wall. The garage was empty except for the huge Rolls-Royce. ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘They’ve gone.’
Vincent pushed himself away from the wall and dusted his hands together. He was shaking and his face was pale.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked.
‘I am now. Christ, I was scared. I thought they were going to kill me.’
‘Come and sit down.’ We went to the car and he sat behind the wheel and I sat next to him on the passenger seat. I lit two cigarettes and handed him one. ‘So what happened, Vincent?’ I asked.
He composed himself and closed his eyes as he spoke. ‘Miss Catherine gave me an early call,’ he explained. ‘She wanted me to drive her to Covent Garden. We got there just after nine, but the shop she wanted to go to wasn’t open, it was too early. So she did some window shopping and as it still wasn’t open she told me to drive her up to Camden. There’s a dress shop up there she buys a lot of stuff from. I drove through the bottom of Mercer Street, by the theatre, and a Transit van cut us up and forced me to stop. Those two men who were here jumped out of the back of the van, and the one with the ginger hair stuck a gun in my face.’
‘What about the driver?’
‘He stayed put, I never saw him.’
‘Was your window open.’
‘Yes.’
‘Didn’t you have the air-conditioning on?’
‘Only in the back. I had the partition up. I like fresh air.’
‘So what happened then?’
‘I had the back doors locked. I always do in traffic. There’s a switch by the steering column. That ginger bloke tried the door. He said he’d shoot me unless I opened it, then shoot the lock. There was nothing I could do, honest, so I opened the locks. Then the ginger bloke got in the back and he said something to Miss Catherine that I couldn’t hear because of the partition. Then the bastard hit her … ’ Vincent put his head into his hands.
‘All right, Vincent,’ I said. ‘Take it easy.’
‘Like I said, he hit her,’ he went on. ‘And then he pulled her out of the car, dragged her over to the van and pushed her into the back and slammed the doors. The fat bloke kept his gun on me. I couldn’t do a thing. Then those two got in the Rolls. The ginger one was up front where you’re sitting and the other in the back. Honest, Mr Sharman, I couldn’t do a thing to stop them, I swear.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t your fault. Did you get the number of the van?’
‘No, there was a piece of cloth over the plate.’
‘Was it a plain van?’
He nodded.
‘Colour?’
‘Dark blue.’
‘Fine, that’s about half the Transit vans in London. And no one in the street did anything?’
‘No, that street is quiet, there was no one about. And it all happened so quickly.’
I opened the ashtray on the dashboard and stubbed out the butt of my cigarette. ‘Well, here we are.’
‘Where?’
‘In the shit.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said and leant his head forward onto the steering wheel.
‘I’d better go and tell Elizabeth.’
‘God, she’ll kill me.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘I’ll make it right. And for now, don’t tell anyone about Catherine being snatched. Not the servants or the family, and certainly not the police, understand?’
He nodded. I left him sitting in the car, still shaking slightly and gazing through the windscreen at the blank wall opposite.
21
I went upstairs to Elizabeth’s apartment. She was in her sitting room. There was a breakfast tray on the table.
‘We’ve got problems,’ I said.
‘Tell me something new.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘What then?’
‘I’ll give it to you straight,’ I said. ‘Catherine’s been kidnapped.’
‘What?’ she cried, and got to her feet, her face ashen.
‘Kidnapped.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Never more so.’
‘But who would do such a thing?’
‘Who do you think? The little firm that dropped by to see me the other night after killing Leee. Who else? They were serious when they told me they wanted their money.’
‘When did it happen?’
‘Just after nine this morning.’
‘Where from?’
‘The Rolls.’
‘Where was the Rolls?’
‘In the street, in Covent Garden.’
‘What the hell was Catherine doing in Covent Garden at that hour? She didn’t tell me she was going out.’
‘She was shopping.’
‘Was she alone? Where was Vincent while all this was happening?’
‘In the car too.’
‘Didn’t he put up a fight?’
I shook my head.
‘Is he here now?’
‘Yes, downstairs in the garage.’
‘You mean he just let her get abducted and then calmly drove back here?’
‘No, he had two guns pointed at him at the time.’
‘Did anyone in the street see what was going on or try and stop them?’
‘Apparently not. You can do a lot on the streets of London these days before anyone calls foul.’
‘Have you told anyone else?’
‘Not yet, the kidnappers told me not to.’
‘You’ve spoken to them?’ she said in surprise. ‘Did they telephone?’
‘Better than that, I’ve seen them.’
‘What? Are you serious?’
‘I already told you, never more so.’
‘When did you see them?’
‘They just left.’
‘They were here?’
‘Yes, downstairs in the garage. They made Vincent bring them back in the limo, at gunpoint.’
‘I don’t believe this. You mean you spoke to them and you did nothing? Did you offer them lunch? The place is crawling with police and two men with guns drive into my house like they’ve been invited! Where’s Vincent? I’m going to fire that incompetent fool.’
‘Calm down,’ I said. ‘Losing it isn’t going to help, nor is firing Vincent. And the place is hardly crawling with police. I don’t think there’s any here at all this morning. Even the news people have gone to pastures new.’
‘I’m not “losing it” as you put it,’ she said haughtily. ‘And by the way, where were you when Catherine was abducted? Correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you hired as a bodyguard?’
I was hoping she wouldn’t ask that. If I hadn’t been awake half the night, breaking the first rule of the game, screwing the client, I might have been with her when she’d been snatched. I went on the offensive.
‘You’re wrong,’ I said. ‘I was hired for all sorts of little jobs and all sorts of reasons. I inherited the job of bodyguard. I told you yesterday I wanted to go to the police, but you two talked me out of it.’ I declined to tell her I’d already done just that. I was beginning to get
pissed off again, at everyone connected with this little caper. ‘Catherine went shopping early. She didn’t wake me or else I would have tagged along. I can’t be everywhere at once.’
‘So what do these bastards want?’
‘One million. The original price.’
‘When do they want it? I haven’t got that sort of money lying around.’
‘Soon. They’re going to contact me.’
‘Why you?’
I shrugged. ‘Why not?’ But I was beginning to ask myself the same question.
‘So what should I do?’
‘About the money, nothing at the moment. Let me tell the police. This whole thing is getting out of hand.’
‘No.’
‘You’re crazy.’
‘Why?’
‘Because it’s not good policy to pay kidnappers. Catherine may be dead already.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘I don’t know, but paying up won’t guarantee anything.’
‘So what should I do?’
‘I’ve told you. Do nothing and I’ll go to the police.’
‘No. I’ll pay. I’ll get the money.’
I sighed. ‘Where from?’
‘From the business. We’ll liquidate funds.’
‘As I understand it, you don’t have the authority.’
‘I’ll get it.’
‘From?’
‘From the board. David is the MD.’
‘If you’re determined to pay, I’m afraid you won’t be able to go to the board.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because a thing like this has to be kept totally secret. Anyway, he may not agree.’
‘She’s his sister, for God’s sake.’
‘Half-sister,’ I reminded her. ‘A half-sister he accepted on sufferance and who is now turning out to be very inconvenient to have around. It might be better for the lot of you if she was dead. At least that would allow the will to go through probate.’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘It’s true. And as far as I can see, relations between you and him are a little strained too.’
‘Not that strained. I’ll speak to him now. Is he here?’