by Asher, Adele
Chapter 23
I COUGHED and spluttered as the smoke started to clear from the room then got up and shook the plaster dust and debris off me. I pulled a shocked and confused Charlotte out of the bathtub.
“What the hell did you do?” she asked in a dazed state of confusion.
“I blew the bedroom up,” I replied casually.
“With what?”
“A block of C4 explosives I put under the bed.”
“Why do you have explosives under your bed?”
“They were meant for you and Roy.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Sorry.”
“Why were you going to blow me up?”
“I was quite vexed with you at the time. But since you probably just saved my life I guess that makes us even.”
“Jesus you can be such a bitch sometimes,” she said with a disgusted look.
“Maybe you should have better taste in men in future.”
I stepped over the debris and into what remained of the bedroom.
The entire front wall had collapsed. The ceiling was missing and there were dead Russians strewn across the floor. I say dead Russians but to be exact parts of dead Russians. Arms, legs and torso’s were strewn about the place like disassembled mannequins. Charlotte emerged and took one look at the slaughterhouse remnants of my bedroom and threw up on the charred Axminster. Eventually she composed herself.
“Who are these guys?” she asked pointing at the human detritus without looking.
“They are the Russians. Anatoly’s men. What’s left of them at least.”
“They’re all dead!”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they have more of them. They must be getting them from a discount warehouse somewhere because they always seem to come in packs of twelve.”
Somewhere amidst the chaos a mobile phone rang. I located the source to the torso nearest the bathroom door. The owner I presumed was the gentleman who had requested us to open the door. I gingerly picked through his bloodstained remnants and found a Blackberry in his inside pocket and prodded the blood-soaked keyboard with a finger.
“Allo. Ivan?” Anatoly asked.
“No. I’m sorry, Ivan can’t take your call right now. He’s fallen apart on the job.”
There was an annoyed sharp exhale of breath on the other side.
“We had an agreement…”
“Yes and that agreement included you bringing Nick in return for the money. Your man didn’t seem to know what I was talking about. It’s most disappointing.”
“These things happen. Mistakes are made,” replied Anatoly.
“And you missed Roy. Sorry Johnny.”
“He is with you?”
“He was here. Your man let him get away.”
“Put him on the phone.”
“That will be difficult. His ears are no longer attached to his head.”
“Did you do this thing?”
“It was Roy’s fault. He tried to steal the money.”
“You still have the money?”
“One minute.”
I picked my way through the debris to the front of the house. My beloved G-Wagen was still parked in the front drive. In his bid to get away Roy had clearly made his escape on foot. I found the duffel back of cash in the boot.
“Yes I still have it,” I told Anatoly.
“Then we need to make a new agreement.”
“I’m not compensating you for these guys. This was your fault. Breach of contract. In fact I should get a discount to cover the damage to my bedroom.”
“Not going to happen.”
“I thought you would say that. Never mind, technically I no longer own the place so it’s not my problem.”
“We make new meeting?”
“This time you come. Don’t send any more of your renta-goons. I’m getting bored of killing your hired help. They are so incompetent there is simply no sport to be had in it.”
“I do not take such meeting.”
“For eight million Euros you will take this meeting. You come or I come and find you.”
“Very well,” Anatoly sighed reluctantly.
“Monte Carlo. Tomorrow. The Casino. One p.m. leave your army behind, no funny business. I won’t have the money with me. If you try anything you will never see a single Euro. We meet, we arrange a time and a place for the handover.”
“Da..Da. Casino tomorrow at one p.m.”
The line went dead. Russian’s really have no manners. I returned to the bedroom to collect Charlotte.
I dropped the phone and found something that wasn’t covered in blood and human tissue to wipe my hands on.
“Come on. We should get out of here. We could probably tell the police it was a gas explosion but the twelve dead Russian gangsters are kind of hard to explain,” I said to Charlotte.
I led Charlotte down what was left of the staircase and out to the G-Wagen.
“Where are we going?” asked Charlotte.
“Monaco. If you are lucky we can find you a rich Arab to marry.”
I pulled out the drive and headed south down towards Monte Carlo.
As we headed down the autoroute I did my best to clean up and patch my badly damaged nose and face using the first-aid kit from the G-Wagen’s boot.
“Why are you involved in all of this?” Charlotte asked me as we drove south. I shrugged my shoulders.
“Bad luck I guess.”
“And Roy? Who is he really if he is not Johnny?”
“Roy Jones. He’s an electrician from Luton.”
“So who the hell is Johnny?” asked Charlotte clearly confused.
“Johnny was a hired assassin, ex-SAS by all accounts working in Iraq where Roy was working as a contractor. He killed Johnny and took his place.”
“I can’t believe I slept with someone from Luton.” she said with a disgusted look.
“I would have thought that was a step up from your Hackney liaison.”
“Hardly. So why are we going to Monte Carlo? Is Roy there?”
“I bloody hope not. I’m sick of that idiot. I wish I had killed him when I had the chance,” I said as I nursed my damaged nose with an alcohol soaked swab.
“He’s made a right mess of your face. The brute.”
“He’ll pay for that.”
“So you kill people? I mean when you were in Chelsea, you were killing people?”
“Yes.”
“As a job?”
“More of a hobby really.”
“A hobby? People in Chelsea don’t kill people for a Hobby.”
“They should try it. Beats having your nails done and afternoon tea at Harvey Nic’s.”
“So what is in Monte Carlo?”
“Anatoly.”
“Who is he?”
“He’s Vladimir’s brother. I killed Vladimir.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Johnny…Roy told me to.”
“Why did he want to kill him?”
“You know, I still don’t know that. According to what I do know Roy thought he was doing an arms deal as part of some lunatic get-rich-quick scheme to short the market off the back of a terrorist attack. In reality Anatoly was setting him up in revenge for him killing an FSB agent. Honestly speaking I’ve lost track and am past caring.”
“So why are you going after Anatoly?”
“Because he has Nick.”
“And who is Nick?”
“The guy you met. I love him.”
“What’s he doing involved?”
“He’s After Anatoly. And Roy probably. Mostly I think he’s just here because of me. Now they have him and I have to get him back.”
“He works for the Russians?”
“No, Nick is MI6. I think.”
“You don’t know?”
“That’s just the way this business is. People tell you one thing and they are another. I’m pretty sure he is MI6.”
“I hope he’s not from Luton as well.”
“No he’s definitely not from there.”
/>
“How do you know? You were wrong about Johnny.”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“I don’t know how you got yourself into this mess in all honesty.”
“You know something Charlotte? Neither do I…”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Get Nick back, find a nice beach house in St Barts and stop killing people.”
We arrived at the border with Italy. I smiled at the Italian border guard as I handed over our passports. He frowned at me in concern.
“Are you okay Miss?” he asked gesturing at my face.
“Ah that. We had a disagreement over the driving. Things got out of hand.”
Charlotte smiled at him, her face almost as bruised and battered.
“I think she won,” he said gesturing at Charlotte.
“I went easy on her. You know what blondes are like, first sign of violence and they burst into tears.”
“Maybe take it easy huh? Pretty young ladies shouldn’t do this to each other. You not find a nice husband this way.”
“That’s okay. We’re lesbians,” I told him with a smile. His eyes lit up at the idea.
“You like my number? Maybe I take you both out!” he scribbled his number down on a piece of paper and handed it back with the passports.
“Thank you.” I drove off with the border guard waving cheerily.
“Why did you tell him we were lesbians?” asked Charlotte with a frown.
“Because we’ve had the shit beaten out of us and we have more than three point five million Euros in cash and a whole shitload of machine guns in the boot. I’d really rather he didn’t search the car.”
“For Gods sake! We’ll get arrested for terrorism!”
“Don’t worry. We got rid of the Rocket launcher. It’s nothing serious now. Mostly small arms.”
“Rocket launcher!”
“Yes quite glad to be rid of it if I’m honest. Bloody dangerous things.”
“Why did you have a rocket launcher?”
“It was Nick’s.”
“Why cant you just settle for a normal relationship with a normal boyfriend?”
“Like your car stealing, drug dealing rapper friend?”
“He had a nice personality.”
“Compared to what? A farmyard animal?”
“He was very talented.”
“Not at music…”
“And he was good in bed.”
“The thought of getting in his filthy pit makes me want to vom.”
“Why did you kill him?”
“Roy told me to.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he wanted to set me up so he could steal my trust-fund and get rid of your boyfriend so he could shag you.”
“That bastard!” said Charlotte incensed. “And you went along with this?”
“He told me your dad wanted it done.”
“Daddy? Why would he want to kill him? I know he didn’t approve but that was a bit extreme.”
“Maybe you can take it up with him when you get home.”
“I can’t. Since this business with Roy he’s not been speaking to me,” Charlotte said glumly.
“Nick thinks your father is involved in all this.”
“That’s ridiculous. I can’t believe he would have him killed. Johnny just made that up.”
“Roy.”
“Quite.”
“By the way Charlotte what the bloody hell has the thug done with my Foxy?”
“Oh. That. He said he didn’t like the way the little rat looked at him. Sold him on Ebay to a tanning salon owner from Chelmsford. She’s into all that vajazzling business. Very vulgar.”
“I bloody knew it! I can’t believe he sold Foxy to someone from Essex. Poor Foxy. He won’t know what to do in the provinces.”
“She was bright orange. Despicable creature. She had that weird lip surgery, trout-pout I think they call it. God only knows what she had done to her lady garden. Probably plastered in Swarovski crystals. What’s the point of it?”
“Vajazzling? I have literally no idea and no intention of ever finding out.”
“I tried to stop him selling poor Foxy to someone outside of Chelsea but he wouldn’t have any of it.”
“Bastard.”
“What do you think has happened to him?”
“Something painful I hope.”
“Do you think the Russians have him?”
“No I don’t think so.”
“I just want to go home and have a manicure,” shrugged Charlotte pitifully. I handed her the Italian border guards phone number as compensation. Despite her ordeal she still took it. Some things never change - Charlotte will always be a sex mad slut from Farnborough.
We arrived into Monte Carlo. Expecting that Anatoly had guys at the major hotels I opted for the small place I had stayed in with Nick to keep a low profile. I booked two rooms for us. As a stroke of luck the hotel owner had kept the bags Nick and I had left behind so I was reunited with my precious killer Loubi’s. I was sure they would come in useful at some point. Having suffered Charlotte’s blonde ramblings the entire way from Geneva I gave her some money and packed her off to a salon to have her hair done to quell her constant complaints that her carefully tended goldilocks had been utterly ruined by the cancerous evil of plaster dust.
Freed from her vacuous blonde company I decided to walk down to the Pizza place where Nick and I had shared our meal before recovering the money. It didn’t feel the same without him. The owner, who clearly remembered me smiled as I entered.
“Your husband not with you tonight?” he asked.
“My husband? Oh no. He couldn’t make it,” I replied saddened by the fact.
“Shame, I saw him this morning. Down by the harbour.”
“Really? Are you sure? Was he with someone?”
“No he was alone. He was checking out the boats. Maybe he wanted to surprise you?”
“Maybe…” I said confused. “Are you sure it was him?”
“Yes very sure.”
“And he wasn’t with anyone?”
“No, he was alone.”
I frowned, paid him and left a tip. Surely the pizza shop owner must have been mistaken. I very much doubt Anatoly would have let Nick go walking about unescorted. I walked down to the harbour to eat my pizza but of course there was no sign of Nick and I put it down to mistaken identity.
I didn’t feel much like sightseeing without Nick but decided to walk up to the casino to scout out the location for the meet and find potential escape routes if the devious, double-crossing Anatoly decided to pull any funny business. I found all the fire escapes and plotted an escape run out of the back of the casino. I planted my spare pistol discretely behind some large waste bins by the fire exit just in case I was searched or disarmed then I had a fallback position to rearm myself.
Satisfied I had planned everything as well as I could I walked back to the hotel where Charlotte was sat waiting in the bar looking bored, freshly preened from the trip to the salon. I ordered a beer from the small bar in the hotel and sat down with her.
“You got your hair fixed then?” I said trying to at least fill the time with polite conversation. Difficult since Charlotte and I had nothing in common apart from sharing the same postcode and social circle.
“He’s not as good as Rafael on Sloane Avenue,” she complained.
“Never mind,” I replied not really caring.
“Is this the best hotel we could stay in? It’s very shabby,” she opinionated looking down her nose at the surroundings.
“It’s the safest. Besides it has sentimental value to me.”
“You’ve changed.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. You wouldn’t be seen dead in a place like this before…or drink beer.”
“A lot’s happened in the past few days. Its been a life changing experience.”
I found myself drifting off into my own thoughts as I remembered my time spent w
ith Nick.
“You can say that again. Simply awful business. I’ll need therapy for years.”
I nodded and drank my beer.
“In some ways it had some good points.”
“Do you think they will let your man go? I wouldn’t trust the Russians. Filthy working class beasts.”
“I hope so. I have to believe so. Otherwise there’s been no point to any of this.”
“Will you come back to Chelsea?”
“No I don’t think so. That’s part of a different life now. It’s time to move on.”
Charlotte nodded. Her blonde ditzy brain unable to comprehend how anyone could imagine life outside SW3.
For me the thought of going back to the claustrophobic social circle of idle gossip and endless dull lunches with trust fund socialites filled me with dread. It felt like a lifetime ago.
I abandoned Charlotte to the clutches of two Italian businessmen, made my excuses and headed back to my bedroom. In the cramped bathroom I did my best to deal with the mess Roy had made of my face. I was partly thankful Nick wasn’t around to see it. I don’t imagine he would leave a single limb of Roy intact for the mistreatment he had cruelly inflicted on me. Feeling drunk enough to mask the aches and pains I went to my bed that felt so empty without Nick’s presence.
I missed him so much. I had blocked my mind from the thought Anatoly would betray his word and I would never see him again, a thought that was unbearable especially due to the fact we had parted on such bad terms. I wondered what Nick thought after that. I was scared he would have concluded I was indifferent to his fate and would leave him to Anatoly. I hoped he would have faith enough to realise such a quarrel was merely brought about by too much stress and frayed tempers but underneath was something resilient enough to endure.
I hugged my pillow and stared at the empty space in my bed. We had rushed headlong into our love affair and now we were apart for the first time my feelings were being tested. That awful empty aching feeling of being apart from someone you had come to depend on kept me awake.
Charlotte it seems had gotten over Roy much quicker, sometime after midnight I heard her drunken laughter in the corridor then the banging of her door followed by thirty minutes of huffing, puffing, moaning and groaning from Charlotte and two overexcited Italian men. The dirty slut had not even limited herself to a single encounter but opted for a sleazy ménage a trois.