Hung Out To Die: Lukas Boston - Private Investigator Book Two

by Logan May

  He turned around, dog-tired. ‘Not completely, Irene. Sort of just up to here,’ Lukas tapped his chest.

  ‘You’re still dripping water everywhere. Did you use the elevator again? I thought we came to an agreement about your using the lift when you’re in such a state.’

  Lukas took a deep breath. ‘Irene, someone has just tried to kill me. They rigged my Ford so it would drive straight into the ocean. If the crash didn’t do the job, I’m supposed to have drowned from being trapped in the car—which is a total wreck, by the way. I’m finding it a little hard to care about the carpet in the elevator, if you want to know the truth.’

  ‘What you do in your spare time is no concern of mine, Mr Boston. My responsibilities are for the welfare of all the tenants in this building, not just you.’

  ‘This wasn’t in my spare time, Irene. As soon as anybody attempts to kill me I consider those as billable hours and I charge a fee to my clients.’ As usual, the sarcasm bounced harmlessly off Irene’s impenetrable armour of outrage.

  Irene raised an eyebrow. ‘Then perhaps you can add, as an additional expense to your client’s fee, the replacement of the elevator carpet?’

  ‘You know, I might just give that a try, Irene,’ Lukas gave in. ‘And next time I almost drown I’ll take all my wet clothes off downstairs and use the elevator naked. Will that be okay?’

  Irene’s parting shot was an alarmed look as she went back inside, saying, ‘There is no need to be childish about it, Mr Boston.’

  Lukas slopped into his apartment and noticed that every flat surface in the flat was covered with something—a box here, a suitcase there, a large number of plastic bags stuffed with shoes and bags… he searched further and saw Karen sitting at the table and reading papers. She’d opened a bottle of his meager, although treasured, wine collection.

  ‘You’ve run out of beer,’ she said.

  ‘Damn, I meant to pick some up on the way home, but I got swamped at work.’

  ‘You’re soaking wet again.’ Karen sipped at a glass.

  Lukas squinted at her. ‘Do you and Irene have some kind of psychic connection?’

  ‘Who’s Irene?’

  ‘The battleaxe who lives a few doors up. I’ve told you about her before. She’s also the Chairwoman of the Owners Standards Committee, an august institution of which I often fail to meet its exacting requirements.’

  ‘Oh, her. She asked me today if I was a prostitute—very politely, I must say.’

  ‘What did you tell her?’

  ‘I said, “Close, I’m a defense lawyer”, but she didn’t get the joke.’

  ‘Irene doesn’t do jokes.’

  ‘So I found out. Why are you wet again? What happened this time?’

  ‘Someone tried to kill me again. In the harbour—again.’

  ‘Then stay away from the harbour, you idiot. It can’t be that hard to figure out.’

  ‘It’s for a case. My client is at the harbour.’

  Karen shrugged and made a noise.

  Lukas began emptying his pockets. ‘This is fucked again,’ he put the phone down and dragged out his sodden wallet. ‘And this is fucked again.’ Next came the Glock. ‘The ammunition in this will be fucked again,’ he said pointedly, so Karen couldn’t correct him.

  ‘See? You’re learning from experience,’ she murmured, back to reading her documents.

  ‘My car is fucked, too. Completely written off, gone to Davey Jones Locker. It went straight into the ocean with me behind the wheel. I could be dead, feeding the fishes.’

  ‘No self-respecting fish lives in that harbour. You can afford another car, Lukas. God, in fact you can afford something much better than that pile of crap. Why don’t you get a decent one this time?’

  ‘I liked my Ford.’

  She didn’t answer that. Lukas stared around the cluttered apartment.

  ‘You seem to have brought in a lot more… stuff.’

  ‘Just the bare essentials. A girl has to have certain things to survive every day. I don’t expect you to understand.’

  ‘Talking of survival, I don’t suppose you brought any food?’

  ‘I told you, I can’t cook. That reminds me, the refrigerator is almost completely empty. Why don’t you do some grocery shopping? Some snacks and chocolate, crap like that.’

  ‘Why don’t you do some shopping? I’ll bloody cook it, if you do.’

  Karen looked at him over the top of the papers. ‘All right, don’t get all huffy. I’ll go to the supermarket tomorrow and I can order a pizza for us tonight. Now, why don’t you have a nice shower, stop complaining all the time and I’ll come in soon and soap your back? I’ll soap everything, if it’ll make you feel better.’

  Lukas thought about making the determined point that his happiness couldn’t always be bought with the promise of sex and pizza. He had his morals and a right to be treated with respect.

  ‘Make sure you ask for extra anchovies,’ he grumbled, stomping wetly through the apartment towards the bedroom. ‘And garlic bread.’

  ‘Have you been back to the pool hall?’ she called after him.

  ‘Tomorrow, for Christ’s sake. Bloody hell, give me half a chance.’

  Karen went back to her reading, absently picking up her phone and speed-dialing her favourite pizza delivery. She said quietly, ‘Well, if you stopped pissing about in the harbour all day, you’d probably get a lot more done.’

  ELEVEN

  Lukas spent most of the next day catching up with some of his other clients, minor jobs waiting on information and paperwork. He emailed and phoned people, telling them he was still working on the case. Sometimes Lukas wondered about hiring a part-time secretary to deal with all this shit. At times like this, it seemed a good idea. He also arranged to have his Ford towed to a garage and got the news confirming the car was a write-off as he’d expected, the salt water damage beyond repair. It had been in the ocean for hours, the tide rising, before a truck managed to haul it out. They found a crab in the back seat and the tow truck driver asked Lukas if he wanted to take it home for supper.

  ‘I’m kind of over fish and chips,’ Lukas told him.

  The insurance company wasn’t easily convinced that the car had driven itself into the sea. Lukas endured a roundabout of different departments and being put on hold, a rage slowly building until he got to tell someone in a biting tone that he was an ex-police detective and if wanted to fraudulently dispose of his beloved Ford he’d know to use a bit more fucking imagination.

  Karen was right, Lukas could easily buy another car. He couldn’t be bothered right now and arranged a hire car instead, the latest Ford sedan with features that Lukas had no clue how to operate.

  In the evening as he parked it in front of the Black Ball Pool Hall, Lukas felt as if he was docking the Starship Enterprise. The dashboard flashed lights at him and several things beeped a lot.

  ‘Shut up, I know what I’m bloody doing,’ Lukas told the car, struggling to remove the unfamiliar key. It wouldn’t be appeased until all the windows were closed and the doors locked.

  The pool hall was busy, every table being played and a few people lingering on the edges waiting their chance. William was behind the bar again and nodded towards the Guinness tap as Lukas approached.

  ‘Robbie’s buying, too,’ Lukas told him. ‘I’m supposed to meet her.’

  ‘I’ll let her know you’re here,’ William grunted. ‘Got a few of your old friends in here tonight. You might want to watch your back.’

  ‘Yeah? Like who?’

  ‘Billie Cobham.’

  Lukas processed the name. ‘Ran that stolen car chop-shop in Hawthorn. He would have been all right, if he hadn’t nicked that district judge’s Mercedes. It’s not my fault he got six months. Who else?’

  ‘Marcus West perked up, when he saw you.’

  ‘Ah, bloody Marcus West. Who uses his own credit card to buy a kitchen knife, then uses the same knife to hold up the place? I saved the idiot from himself, putting him in ja
il.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s very grateful, too.’ William put the Guinness in front of Lukas before picking up a phone and speaking briefly into it.

  ‘What about Job Rewold? Do you know him?’

  William pulled a face to say that Job wasn’t his favourite person and peered out into the gloom surrounding the brightly lit pool tables. ‘He’s out there somewhere.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Lukas’ phone chimed that he had a new text message. It was from Karen saying she had a business dinner that night and not to wait up for her.

  ‘I wasn’t going to,’ Lukas told his phone. ‘I’m sorry, did we get married sometime in the last forty eight hours and I didn’t notice?’

  After only a couple of drinks from his pint, Robbie appeared beside Lukas.

  ‘You’re on time. I guess you can’t be a very busy private detective,’ she teased him.

  ‘It’s my day off. Otherwise, I’m flat-out. Haven’t got time to scratch myself.’

  ‘I should hope you have no need to scratch yourself. Come downstairs to my office, Lukas. I’ve got something much better than that muck to drink.’

  ‘Sure, if you like.’ Lukas gulped down half his glass as he stood up. It was against the law to leave behind that much Guinness.

  ‘Do we need to be quiet?’ Lukas asked as he followed her down the steps.

  ‘No, nobody’s filming. We’re all alone at the moment. Today was an editing day and we usually finish at six, so everyone’s gone home. That’s why I asked you here now. We can have some peace and quiet.’

  ‘A nine to five pornography studio, who’d have ever thought it?’

  ‘It’s a business, Lukas and a very good one. As long as it’s all just good, clean fun between consenting adults there’s nothing illegal about it. No need to be skulking around in the middle of the night.’

  ‘You’d never know the studio is here,’ Lukas said as Robbie showed him through a door into a large, luxurious office.

  ‘Of course not, or we’d have all kinds of fools knocking on the door wanting to have a go. We’re very selective in choosing who star in our films.’

  Lukas stopped and looked, impressed. On one side of the room was an ornate, wooden desk with an executive chair on each side. The other side of the office was taken up by an enormous leather couch.

  ‘Yes, it’s a casting couch,’ Robbie answered his unspoken question. ‘The real thing. If you can’t do your stuff there with people standing around and watching, you’ll never perform in front of a camera.’

  Lukas sat on it, bouncing up and down. ‘It’s very comfortable.’

  ‘I should hope so. It cost me a fortune and don’t ask about how much trouble it took to get the damned thing down here.’

  Robbie waved Lukas to sit in the visitor’s executive chair while she took an expensive bottle of whiskey and two glasses from a cabinet. ‘You want anything with this?’

  ‘Are you joking?’

  ‘Good answer,’ she smiled approvingly. Robbie sat down, poured generous slugs into the glasses and handed one to Lukas. Putting her feet on the desk, she raised her whiskey in salute and he returned it. Then Robbie pulled a DVD from a drawer and tossed it across to him. ‘There you go. It’s not positive proof that Big Johnno was here the whole time, because you could fake the time code, if you wanted. I can’t do better than that.’

  ‘It’ll help and it’s all I’ve been asked to do anyway, so my job’s done. I was going to ask you another question though.’

  Robbie’s smile turned sly. ‘Okay, you can ask me something, as long as I can ask you something back.’

  Lukas wasn’t so sure about that. It was too late now.

  ‘Do you know Job Rewold?’

  ‘Ah, Mr Rewold. What an interesting man he is.’

  ‘Interesting? Why is that?’

  ‘Job is desperate to get into this business. He’s been driving me crazy for a long time and now he wants to invest in my new studio. I’ve been telling Job that he needs some serious money to become a stakeholder and he’s been promising to come up with some cash for ages. I haven’t paid him much attention. I didn’t think he had any real finances of his own, but lo and behold suddenly he’s got some funding and he wants in.’ Robbie shrugged, sipping her drink. ‘Not the ideal business partner. I’ll take his money all the same and worry about keeping him under control when the time comes.’

  Agreeing, Lukas made a noise and swirled his glass.

  Robbie heard him, cocking her head, ‘Oh? Why? I hope you’re not going to tell me that whoever he got this money from wants it back. Does he get to keep it?’

  ‘I don’t know. I think he stole it from his father’s safe. His dad’s died since and wasn’t looking to press any criminal charges in the first place, so now it’s a family matter whether or not he has to give it back. Mind you, the Rewold clan is a bunch of dysfunctional clowns and might demand the death sentence. Has Job actually paid you anything?’

  ‘Yep, signed and sealed with kiss. He’s hoping for a lot more than a kiss, of course. He has an eye on Angel. It’s not going to happen, but don’t tell him.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Fifty grand.’

  ‘What does that get him?’

  ‘Ten percent of returns for the new studio only.’

  ‘Only ten percent and he’s happy? Bloody hell, I must be in the wrong business.’

  ‘I have mentioned that to you,’ Robbie murmured.

  ‘Did he… offer anything more?’

  ‘Says he’s got some uncut diamonds that will be worth a shitload of cash, if he can sell them to the right person. I figured that was bullshit, but after what you’re saying…’

  ‘That’s news to me, but I’m not surprised.’ Lukas was thinking this was case closed, as far as the safe thief went. Job might have borrowed the money, but uncut diamonds pointed towards it being the safe contents. Lukas’ priority now was getting hold of the digital recorder and finding out what was on it that got Edward Rewold killed.

  Lukas said, ‘Anyway, I’ll try not to mess with your business deal. It’s not the money I’m really after.’

  Robbie nodded. ‘Okay, so now it’s my turn.’

  ‘Sure, I’ll try.’

  ‘How would you like to have sex with me?’

  Lukas almost dropped his whiskey—a tragedy compounded, since he’d already lost half a pint of Guinness. He put on a brave face. ‘Hey, no offence and I’m flattered, but I don’t think I’m film star material.’

  Flapping her hand, Robbie said, ‘I’m only asking for some sex, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, right—well, I guess if you don’t ask…’ Lukas said, totally confused.

  She laughed softly at him. ‘You don’t get it, Lukas. I spend all day watching false sex. People pretending intimacy and preening themselves for an audience they’ll never see. It’s fake as hell and I admit it. These people aren’t actors, they’re big cocks and tight arses and perky tits. Hell, they’ve got lines to say and we even give them a script sometimes, so we all pretend they’re acting a real film, but the story is always just an excuse for someone to start screwing somebody else.’ Robbie dropped her feet down and leaned towards Lukas. ‘By the end of the day all I want is for someone to make love to me, is that so strange?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Lukas said, gulping at the whiskey.

  ‘Do you find me attractive, Lukas?’

  ‘I can honestly say you’re the most beautiful woman in the room,’ he said, trying The Smile, only it quivered treacherously.

  ‘Good enough,’ she said with a chuckle. Robbie stood up and walked across to the couch, watching Lukas as she went. Laying down and stretching, she said, ‘Help me take these jeans off, will you? They’re tight as hell.’

  ‘I did notice that.’ Lukas took a deep breath. What the hell, I’ve got to give her something for the Guinness and the whiskey. He went to the couch and she raised her feet, letting him tug at the legs of her jeans. Lukas was happy to discov
er she wore nothing underneath.

  ‘You’re a natural red head.’

  ‘It’s all natural, Lukas,’ she said, lifting her arms. ‘Keep going, I love the feel of this leather all over my body.’

  He obliged, then Robbie began unfastening his clothes. Lukas said nervously, ‘Is the door locked?’

  ‘Of course, and I’m the only one with a key.’

  ‘Do—ah, do you want me to turn off some lights? It’s very bright in here.’

  ‘No way, when I’ve got a man as gorgeous as you making love to me, I want to see what’s going on. You wouldn’t want to spoil a girl’s best fantasy, would you?’

  ‘Well, I’d hardly call myself a fantasy,’ Lukas said modestly. Take that, Miss I’m-a-lesbian-and-I’m-not-interested-in-men-like-you Wharf Tourist Retail Corporation receptionist. I’m a porn star’s fantasy.

  ‘Hello... ah, Lukas? What are you waiting for? Are you just going to stand there naked?’

  ‘Sorry, I—I can’t decide where to start.’

  ‘Why don’t you start at the bottom and work your way up?’

  ‘That’s a good idea—oh, you mean that bottom.’

  Later, Robbie took him into an impressive bathroom where they showered together. Lukas was grateful, figuring it was wise to wash away any evidence that Karen may detect when he got home. When Lukas was getting dressed Robbie insisted she open a bottle of champagne. He had one glass, based on the suspicion that his new-fangled hire car would tell him if he was too drunk to drive. It wouldn’t let him make any other decision on his own.

  Finally he said, ‘This is nice, but I have to go. I want to have a chat with Job Rewold on the way out, too. Don’t worry, I won’t cause any trouble.’

  ‘You’re no trouble at all, Lukas,’ Robbie said easily. She was wrapped in a thick bathrobe.

  Standing, he felt compelled to say, ‘If there’s anything I can help with, just ask.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘I’ll remember that. Like you said, if you don’t ask…’

  Lukas was feeling well pleased with himself as he climbed the stairs back to the bar. It wasn’t every day a stunning, ex-porn star called you her fantasy. He’d have to tell someone—Goodall was best. Karen was out of the question. Their arrangement wasn’t supposed to be exclusive, but she made it clear to Lukas that removing his balls with a kitchen knife would be the next thing to happen, if she ever heard about him sleeping with another woman. In turn, she could sleep with anyone she wanted, anytime. Lukas put the inequalities in their relationship down to a defense lawyer thing.