All is good here, although Anna seems a bit freaked by your reappearance. She’s been acting a bit strange and even seems to have been on a date with someone last night. Not at all happy about that if I’m honest, although I suppose it’s my own fault.
Anyway, let me know if you’re around if you get this message.
Take care,
D.
He clicked “send” and then sat back in his chair, mind drifting. Who was Mitch? How did that even come about? What did he look like? Where did he live? He might be a nice guy with the best of intentions, but immediately Danny felt on edge. What if they started getting serious? He was bound to want to see her again. Of course he was. She was funny and cheeky and wonderful company, and he was a man. A predator.
When he’d first seen her across the student bar, she’d seemed so completely unapproachable. Exotic, intriguing; one of the cool students that everything seemed to revolve around. A goth of sorts: tiny but trendy with a black leather jacket, fishnets and dramatic make-up but with big rock hair. It was a confused look, but no less endearing for that. He’d fallen for her instantly. But when he finally picked up the courage to speak, he eschewed the chat-up clichés and - maybe because of that - discovered, instead, an immediate connection that would develop into a deep and lasting friendship rather than a short-lived student romance.
The goth look had gone. She now embraced the fashion industry she was a part of: trendy photographer meets sophisticated businesswoman. The hair was slightly shorter, but still with an attractive curl. Above all else, she was still the brilliant friend she’d always been and, in his line of work, one of the very few people he felt he could really trust.
The relationship, then, had bypassed the initial buzz of the new, and in so doing they’d avoided the inevitable messy break-up. But now it was almost like they were brother and sister. With the pace of modern life, they’d settled into a comfortable routine, sharing a flat and secrets, and a deep bond and friendship that transcended anything he’d ever experienced before. Could he ever really risk all of that by trying to take things further? Could it ever even be appropriate to try now, after so many years had passed? It was just something he was resigned to, but what, now, if he was losing her anyway?
It was only one date. There was no need to get carried away. She’d been on dates before. So why did this one already feel different? How was it possible that things could change so quickly? Ben had asked for her number, she’d said, and she’d laughed it off, but now only a few days later she’d met someone new and she’d already been out with him, staying out till late, returning home after seemingly having had a wonderful time. She’d looked stunning last night. Clearly she was dressing to impress, but that just made things worse. And all because of a misunderstanding over Clare. Losing Anna would be a life sentence for a crime that he hadn’t even committed.
It was nearly lunchtime, but Danny’s appetite had gone. He had a hollow feeling inside, as though something was going terribly, irrevocably wrong.
He phoned the flat, just to hear her voice. She answered on the third ring.
“Hi Anna,” he said.
“Danny! I’ve been trying to call you.” Her enthusiasm was reassuring, but equally almost painful. She sounded happy. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to be happy with him. He didn’t ever want anything to come between them.
“Everything okay?”
“Yes, all good. I spoke to Leah.”
“Fantastic. Any news?”
“She was out of it, but she’s agreed to meet. At the studio, tonight at seven if that’s any good. Are you free? I’ve got no idea if she’ll turn up but it’s got to be worth a go.”
“I’ll be there, definitely. Did she say anything about March?”
“Oh Danny, she was all over the place. She said March was a wanker, but kept referring to Steve and saying it wasn’t an accident and she had to be careful. There’s something going on, definitely. I kept asking where she was but she was on a different planet.”
“Well done, though. That’s brilliant. I’ll be home about six and we can go from there if that’s okay.”
“Perfect.”
He didn’t want to ask, but he had to.
“Have you heard from Mitch?”
There was a noticeable pause. Above all else he just wanted her to be honest with him. The thought of not knowing was far worse than knowing for sure.
“I have, yes.”
“And?”
“And nothing, really. He just called to thank me for last night.”
“He hasn’t asked you out again?”
“Danny...” The silence that followed spoke more than words.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” It was as bad as he’d feared. “I’ll see you at six, okay?”
“Looking forward to it.”
“I just... You’re brilliant, Anna. You know that?”
“What brought this on?”
“Just sometimes things need saying, that’s all.”
“Well, you’re brilliant yourself. Take care and hurry home.”
“I will.”
He ended the call. And immediately just wanted to hear her voice again.
* * *
“You’re not eating?”
“No, I’m not hungry.”
“Are you all right? Not coming down with anything?”
“I’m fine, just a bit stressed. There’s a lot going on. But you order and I’ll just have a cappuccino.”
“If you’re sure.”
Danny nodded. DS Amy Cranston examined the menu. There wasn’t a huge choice. It was just a cafe really, albeit with a side order of pretentious artificial grandeur. A waitress came over and took their order.
“So,” she said, while they waited, “what’s new?”
“It’s just basically March. Did you hear about the body they fished out of the Thames?”
“Last night?”
“Yes, early hours.”
“I did. It’s not one of mine but I’ve heard about it this morning. Why?”
“I knew him. Kind of. I met him the other night. He was a singer. Anna was taking pictures of the band.”
“Really? That’s tragic. Is she okay?”
“She’s upset, of course, but here’s the thing. She was supposed to see them again last night but she couldn’t get past the door. Their new manager crossed her off the guest list.”
“That’s weird.”
“Exactly. And do you know who the manager was?”
“Go on.”
“Graham March.”
“What?”
“Exactly.”
“What does he even know about music? Hold on. Our Graham March? Is she sure?”
“Hundred percent.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know. And a few hours later the singer’s dead.”
“Bloody hell. If you pardon the language.”
Danny looked behind him to make sure there was nobody in earshot.
“And there’s more. One of the girls in the band was homeless. Anna spoke to her this morning. She knew March apparently, possibly through the shelter. We don’t know yet, but she called him a wanker. We’re meeting her this evening. Apparently she’s saying it wasn’t an accident.”
“What’s her name?”
“Leah.”
“Surname?”
“I’m not sure.”
“I assume we’re speaking to her too but I’ll check. That’s good work, Danny. She may be more open with you. Let me know what she says, okay? Bollocks to the whole protecting your sources bullshit. This is March we’re dealing with here. Understood?”
Danny nodded.
“What else did you want to ask me about? I assume it wasn’t this, as it only happened this morning.”
“I just wanted to run a couple of things by you. I appreciate there are limits to what you can tell me. But like you said, this is March. Special times.”
“Fire away. I’ll
let you know.”
Danny looked around again. Another customer had come into the cafe, but the table directly behind them was still free. Danny leaned forward and lowered his voice so it was barely audible above the background noise. The food and coffee arrived.
“No mentioning this to anyone, okay?” he continued. “Especially not your politician friend.”
“Of course.”
“Right. Well, I’ve been investigating, as you know. I’ve made a few connections and started to notice a few coincidences. His name kept cropping up not too far removed from some pretty bad things.”
“What kind of bad things?”
“I was expecting the usual. A bit of vice, a bit of protection. Hiding of evidence and all that kind of stuff. But then it seemed to get noticeably darker.” Danny paused for a moment, then lowered his voice still further. “Trafficking.”
“Shit. Drugs?”
“No. People.”
“You mean?”
“Girls from eastern Europe, promised a new life in the west, great job, prospects. Everything from nannies to models. Except when they get here they’re heavily in debt, kept against their will, passports taken, families threatened...”
“And forced into prostitution.”
“Precisely.”
“And this is March because?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. But I’ve just been to Germany. It seems to be centred in Cologne. I met some people there who would talk to me. They confirmed he was involved.”
“Who did you speak to?”
“That I can’t say at the moment, but...” Danny paused. He suddenly looked hesitant.
“What’s up?”
“It’s nothing. I just need to know that this is off the record.”
“Of course. Unless you tell me something where life is in immediate danger.”
“No, it’s not that. It’s something you’d be interested in. But you can’t act on it. Not yet.”
“Okay. Tell me.”
Danny took a deep breath.
“When I was in Cologne I bumped into someone.”
“Go on.”
“Clare.”
“Clare?” She put down her fork.
He nodded.
“She’s still alive, then.”
“Clearly.”
“And on the wanted list in several countries. How was she?”
“Looking well, although she’s changed her appearance a bit.”
“I don’t suppose she told you where she was living?”
“No, but she knew about March. Knew what I was over there for. She knew about the trafficking.”
DS Cranston resumed her lunch.
“You don’t think she’s involved?”
“No, it’s not her style. But she said she could help me. Save me time. I’ve sent her an email.”
“You’ve got her email address? We could probably trace her location through that if we know her ISP.”
“Indeed, but you can’t. Not yet. And she’s not stupid. She’ll be hiding that somehow. Either way I didn’t want to trust her, but, well, as she said, it’s a murky world.”
“Listen, Danny, if you want my advice, you’ll treat anything she says with extreme caution.”
“I will.”
“It’s interesting, though. Speak to her again. Find out what she knows. But for God’s sake be careful.”
“Of course. Then there’s one more thing.”
“Even worse than that?”
“Not worse, but weird. I got back on Saturday. On Sunday March called me, wanted to meet.”
“He did what?”
“That’s what I thought. I went to see him in a coffee shop. That’s when he told me about his homeless shelter. He wanted me to write a story to clear his name.”
“Some chance of that.”
“I know.” Danny took a sip of the coffee. It was still too hot, but he barely noticed. “But why would he do that? Why even draw my attention to it? Why put himself in the line of fire?”
“Unless he’s trying to derail you.”
“It doesn’t make sense. And then last night Anna went to see the band play, and he was there. Made sure she saw him. What’s he up to?”
Amy arranged her knife and fork, then pushed the plate away.
“I’ve lost my appetite as well. Listen, Danny, there’s not much I can tell you at the moment. But I’ll keep my eyes and ears open, okay? If there’s anything that’ll help that I can tell you, I’ll be in touch. Okay?”
“That would be much appreciated.”
“In the meantime, let me know about tonight. And if you hear from Clare again. We’ll stop the bastard.”
“Are you worried about the politician? Seb?”
“No, not really. He’s leaning a bit. Could make things awkward, career-wise especially, but we don’t do cover-ups.”
“That’s good to know.”
She took a purse from her bag and withdrew a ten pound note.
“This one’s on me,” she said. “It’s good to see you, Danny. We’ll keep in touch.”
Danny drained his cup. They were about to say their farewells when his mobile phone started ringing. He looked at the number and then at DS Cranston. It was another call from March.
15
DANNY connected the call.
“Graham,” he said. “To what do I owe the displeasure?”
There was hollow laughter on the line.
“You’re a cheeky boy, Danny. That could be your undoing one day. You should watch that. But I’m calling because I need to speak to you.”
“Clearly. Because otherwise you could have simply not called me. Mission accomplished.”
“And clever with it. Although all things are relative. You could go far, which perhaps speaks volumes about the standard of your contemporaries.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. What did you need to speak to me about?”
“Not here, Danny. Over coffee. Same place, in an hour. Can you do that?”
“Wow, you must be missing me. I’ll just check my diary.” He paused. “Yes, nothing on this afternoon apart from a short-notice meeting with a bent bastard who’s clearly up to something. But that’s you.”
“Funny boy, Danny. I’ll see you there.”
The call ended. Danny looked across to DS Amy Cranston.
“He wants to meet again.”
“Be careful, Danny,” she said again.
An hour later, Danny was reading a newspaper in the corner of the coffee shop, with a cappuccino by his side, when March pushed through the door and then headed in his direction. Again, they didn’t shake hands. March sat down, lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in Danny’s direction.
“Cheers for that,” said Danny.
“Just toughening you up, lad,” said March. “There’s a long way to go, though. We’re not setting off from what I like to call a particularly strong starting point.”
Danny ignored the insult.
The waitress came over and March ordered a pot of tea for one. When she left, Danny spoke.
“You needed to talk to me.”
“I did. There’s been an unfortunate development.”
“Really, with you around?”
“Cut the crap, Danny. This is serious. I met young Anna last night.”
“She told me.”
“Out with a very handsome companion, as it happens. I always thought you two were going to be an item but clearly she’s fond of them with a bit more muscle, if you don’t mind me saying.”
This was the last thing Danny wanted to hear, but he hoped it didn’t show.
“Apparently you crossed her off the guest list.”
“Ah, just an administrative misunderstanding. I tried to sort it out but she disappeared. Too loved up to notice, I expect. Who was he, by the way?”
“No idea.”
“Well she’s done well, but she’s a lovely looking girl. You want to lower your sights a bit. Just a bit of friendly advice
. But anyway, about last night.”
“Yes?”
“There appears to have been something of a tragedy.”
“Steve.”
“You heard? I thought you might have. Such a lovely boy. It’s a terrible waste.”
“Graham, I have to ask. What the fuck do you know about the music business?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You’re a copper. Were a copper. And a particularly corrupt one at that. You’re what? Early sixties?”
“Fifty-one.”
“What?”
The tea arrived. March poured a cup and added milk but no sugar. Conversation paused until the waitress left them alone.
“You’re never fifty-one,” Danny continued.
“What are you saying?”
“Just that you’re not fifty-one.”
“I am, but it doesn’t matter. Your point is?”
“My point is, what do you know about the music business? Anna tells me you’re claiming to be their manager, but I can’t understand what on earth they’d gain from that, every offence intended.”
“I’m a man of many connections.”
“So I gather.”
March shot him a look then took a sip of the tea. It still looked too hot, but it didn’t seem to bother him.
“I know people, Danny. I get things done. And I’m a philanthropist.”
“A what?”
“I do apologise. That was a long word for the Echo, so I shouldn’t have expected you’d understand. I’m a good guy, Danny. I’ve told you. Friend of the homeless and patron of the arts. All part of my new image, putting right the public misperception.”
“Can you stop talking shit for once?”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Anyway, it was looking very rosy until the poor silly boy took something naughty and went for a swim.”
“And that’s your line, is it?”
“What?”
“That he was on drugs and it was an accident?”
“So I’ve been told. But that’s why I need to see you. It’s a delicate time, Danny.”
“Clearly.”
“I just think the boy needs to be shown some respect. Not have young guttersnipes poking around in his business. I’m a heartbroken man, Danny. We were on the verge of greatness together. I’m just protecting his reputation.”
Out Of The Red Page 9