She decided to add to her credibility by wondering why she’d never heard his real name before. Cortez was casual about his explanation, guessing that in this world of everybody being their own artwork the man had chosen a more colorful professional name for himself. After all, the Griffin logo was everywhere on his work, on the walls of his apartment and the tiny fetishes lying around.
Ann was pretty sure that this was the same man Griffin had described as the FBI agent pretending to be interested in his scripts. She was surprised at first to see he was black, funny how people, even Griffin, never mentioned it. He was also sophisticated and literate, not that unusual, but he had a kind of intimate charm that tweaked her as a woman, and she was enjoying it.
“So you’re saying you haven’t seen him in the last twenty-four hours?
“No, I haven’t,” she answered.
Now her problem was that he didn’t seem to want to leave, so she offered him a drink, knowing that a cop wouldn’t accept alcohol on the job. She smiled when he declined and made moves for the door.
“May I call you in a few hours to see if everything’s alright here?”
“Of course, any time. Here’s my card. You have one?”
“I don’t, but let me write a number down for you.”
Ann smiled again as she watched him carefully write his number on a small notepad he kept in the inside pocket of his jacket. Obvious, he didn’t want her to know who he really was. Griffin’s threatening spook theory seemed valid suddenly.
Cortez withdrew politely, after a last thorough scan of the room, and she waved sweetly, thinking of Griffin, asleep just a few yards away.
Cortez trotted down the stairs, feeling the necessity to scope out the exits from this lady’s apartment. She was soft and sharp at the same time, that English skin and a mischievous smile. She had to be over forty but she was sexy—very sexy. And maybe a damn good liar.
He had no idea what to do next, but he wasn’t going to reveal that to the local cops waiting in the street. Cortez figured that Rivkin had a network of underground wasters, losers and suspicious punks, and could be hiding out with any one of them, in any cave or rat hole from here to downtown. He felt defeated at the prospect, but he was very close to the man he’d been tracking for so long, and now wasn’t the time for defeat.
Maybe the lady upstairs was a bit too smooth about everything. Maybe he should go back without any advance warning. He almost turned around. Decided against it and kept walking.
CHAPTER 51
Griffin’s Place
Pete slowly navigated his rental car into the narrow unmarked alleyway he’d missed the first time around, and parked between two cars that looked deceased. He sat quietly, calming himself.
He’d thought about getting a gun, but that wasn’t what he wanted. In fact he wouldn’t know what he really wanted until he was face to face with The Acid King.
There was no doubt Rivkin would recognize him, who would forget a face like his, but he had a new thought as he slowly approached the door and saw the peephole. If Rivkin was as paranoid as he should be then he might not even open it. He knocked for the fifth time and heard no sounds coming from inside. Damn, he was deflated now. He hadn’t allowed for this. He stood dangling on the doorstep for a few minutes more before going back to his car. Major encounter number one would have to be postponed, now it was on to major encounter number two, something he actually looked forward to. And the wine would still be cold.
***
Cortez was on his way back to the crime scene, driving along Fountain and steeling himself to call Juno and Shirley when the transmitter burped. His senses came back to life when he heard the stake-out cop’s voice.
Swear to God, it was Pete Stebbings, the English rocker.”
“I heard you the first time, Sergeant, and I believe you. What I mean is what the hell is he doing there? And why right now?”
“Well, just guessing, but from where we were parked he looked like an innocent visitor. He couldn’t have known what went down there this afternoon. He must be an old friend, and just dropped by. Coincidence.”
“Okay, get someone on him. He should be in a hotel, try all the obvious ones. I know he lives in England, so check the airlines over the last couple of days. See if he just flew in. Whatever else you can think of. There must be a lead in here somewhere.”
Cortez congratulated himself; he’d made the right decision, clearing away the crime scene tape and any evidence of cops. Hoping that Rivkin might just be confident enough to return to his home when it got dark. He decided to just sit and wait.
CHAPTER 52
Ann’s Apartment
One more time Ann had an amazing experience through the peephole of her front door. Pete Stebbings?
Standing there, wearing a three-piece suit with no tie, a light Italian mac, and holding a bunch of flowers, with an unwrapped bottle of white wine dripping in his fist.
“You look daft,” she said, as she let him in.
“Well, thank yew, darling,” grinned Pete, and they both laughed.
It was strange. They hardly knew each other seventeen years ago, but suddenly they were as warm and comfortable as old friends.
He walked into the kitchen ahead of her on a mutual quest for glasses and a vase for the flowers. Ann felt herself smiling. Ready to giggle at the turn of events. She knew this was mostly the effect of Pete’s famous irresistible grin and a general feeling of excitement.
Neither said a word until they were both sitting down with the wine. Pete spoke first.
“Here’s a toast to a lovely little dolly bird who’s turned into a beautiful elegant woman,” he said. He was sincere and she knew it. She just raised her glass, nodding her thanks.
“Bet you didn’t think I noticed you, but I did. You were Tarquin’s girl, and at that time I pretended not to be, but I was a bit in awe of the upper class lads in our circle.”
“And you had a large supply of dollies to get through.”
“No, my roving eye didn’t get into action until after Madeleine.”
“And speaking of Madeleine.”
“Yeah. That’s why I’m here.”
“How much did she tell you?”
“Not a lot. I only arrived at your doorstep because I found out where you work by a fluke, and they gave me your address. She never mentioned you. My well-meaning staff did all the sleuthing on their own, nosing into the situation, and found the whereabouts of that bastard. Sorry, I expect he’s a friend of yours.”
“So you know where to find him?”
“Already been round there but he seems to be out.”
Ann gasped and stared at him. He picked up on her reaction and cocked his head. Waiting for her to say something.
“Well, you couldn’t have arrived on a better day.”
“Okay then, fill up our glasses. Mind if I take off my shoes?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, and when she came back with the bottle he was lodged into the sofa cushions in a lotus position, relaxed and calm.
“Griffin… that’s what we call him now… is a nutcase on a scale even you might be surprised to know. In his defense, he’s been in a physical and emotional state of growing paranoia for many years, and today I think he finally cracked.”
Pete hooded his eyes and smiled mysteriously, waiting for her to go on.
“He pulled a gun on some guy he thought was an FBI agent. Turned out he was right, and the same man was just here looking for him, along with a SWAT team outside his house.”
“Did they get him?”
“No, he’s on permanent alert. He’s amazing.”
“Where is he now?”
“What do you want to do to him?”
“Just talk. The anger’s gone, I’m having a good life, and it sounds like he’s not. But that’s not just the reason. The whole nightmare has to be ended, we need a last chapter. It’s more of an intellectual thing than emotional after all these years. I’d like to wrap it up. Also for my frie
nd Barry Turnbull, remember him? He’s really damaged goods. I hate that American word closure, so glib, but it’s fairly appropriate here.”
“I understand. I think it’s a good idea for you. It’s not going to work for him. He needs to escape, or die.”
“So where is he?”
CHAPTER 53
Ann took a long time answering, turning the wine glass in her hand, thinking about her responsibility to both these men, one in the past and one surely in the future.
“Down the hall, in my friend’s place.”
Pete unraveled himself from the lotus with agility and stood up.
“I want to see him.”
“That’s up to him. He’ll freak when he sees you. I have to talk to him, might take a while.”
“Sure, if you say he’s that paranoid.”
“It’s worse than that. He thinks the FBI guy turned up out of nowhere because you reported him.”
“Course I didn’t, I never would have thought of doing that. It was either pretend I’d never heard about Madeleine meeting him, or make an effort to have a face to face. Which is why I’m here.”
“Something happened. It couldn’t just be a coincidence.”
“Is he carrying a gun?”
“Probably.”
“Get it off him before I go in there.”
Ann’s eyes flashed with defiance.
“You’re not going ‘in there’. And don’t give me orders.”
Ann brushed past him and went to the kitchen, letting the broken mood settle between them. She sensed it was an important moment in this new relationship, establishing right away that she wasn’t a compliant female. If he didn’t like it, then too bad, it was good to find out so quickly. She decided to give him another chance, and took some fresh wine out of the fridge, marching back into the room with the bottle and an opener, which she placed in front of him. As she hoped, he was ready to speak first.
“I apologize. I’ve got so used to being bossy at home. There’s nobody to stand up to me. Can we go back to the bit where I said, I want to see him?”
“I’d like to go back first to the bit about the good life you’re having. Tell me more.”
“Well, I was partly lying. I have a great life, beautiful house, comfortable family around me, my old buddy from school, Tony, and his mum, that is. They do everything to spoil me rotten and sometimes I think they’re happier than I am. My music’s doing great, and I’ll never worry about money or my place in the world of fame any more, I’m set for life with that.”
“Aren’t you married anymore?”
“No, I think my timing’s been really bad. And because of who I am I get a lot of girls coming at me for the wrong reasons. Seems none of them knows who I am. Maybe it’s because they don’t know who I was. You’d be surprised how important that is. They’re all too young, don’t laugh. I know it’s the male myth, but they can be really boring, you know. The Doobies wrote a great song about that. It cuts down the good chat when you can’t use all the references.”
“You must have a current girlfriend.”
“Yes I do, and that sort of sums it up. She’s a darling little thing, Asian, waits on me hand and foot, listens patiently to everything I say, does my accounts, that’s one of her better tricks.”
Ann’s smile twitched at his honesty.
Pete’s voice wandered off and he stared into his wine for a while.
“But I might as well be completely alone, honestly.”
“Yes, you are being honest, Pete.”
“Yeah, there’s a reason.”
“Go on.”
“I’ve been thinking about you ever since I heard you’d met up with Madeleine. I’d like to spend some time with you, get to know each other. We have a background, a kind of bond, don’t you think?”
“Well,” started Ann, not knowing if there was an answer to this. She found herself liking the idea. She certainly liked him, he felt so familiar too.
“Okay, I’ll be really honest then, it was my first priority when I decided to come here. Number one was to meet you. Then came trying to get together with you know who. Then there are a couple of business things, a movie maybe, and some record company guys. But it was the idea of seeing that shy little blonde that really got me going. And that’s the truth, I swear. I’ll show you my To Do list. I’m a chronic list maker,” he grimaced.
“Me too!” laughed Ann, and they both knew something was happening between them. Pete got up and stepped over to Ann in the chair. Then taking her hands, he guided Ann to her feet and put his arms round her.
“Let’s have a hug to celebrate,” said Pete.
They fitted together with ease, as if they were coming home. They both knew a kiss was the next natural move, and that was the confirmation. But Ann was the first to break it gently, looking into his eyes and smiling.
“I think it would be a good idea to interrupt this now and go to Number 2 on your list.”
Pete laughed.
“Okay, you’re right, but I’ll be thinking all the time of going right back to where we just left off. Tell me you feel the same and I’ll let you go.”
“I do feel the same, it’s good.”
CHAPTER 54
When Ann got to her front door she turned round to look at Pete.
“This might take a while. It’s just that I’ll be waking him up, then laying this bombshell on him. He’ll need convincing that you’re not here to kill him.”
When Ann walked into her friend’s apartment she put on all the lights and purposely made lots of noise while preparing coffee in the kitchen, then knocked on the bedroom door. Nothing. She knocked again, louder.
Griffin snorted, then gasped as he came to life.
“Fuck. Where the hell am I?”
“Hi, Griffin, it’s okay, it’s Ann. I’ve made you some coffee.”
Ann placed the tray with the pot, sugar and cream, on the bedside table and poured a cup for him. Looking at him with deep sympathy, thinking what the hell have I done to him. This drama all happened because of me bringing Madeleine over. Griffin looked so alien and Pete seemed so familiar. Little flashes of joy intermingled with other thoughts.
“Griffin, I’ve got something important to tell you. Come on, why don’t you get up and come sit in the kitchen. Bring the coffee.”
Five minutes later Ann realized he wasn’t coming, and went back to the bedroom to check. He was fast asleep again, coffee untouched, lying on his back and snoring.
She returned to her apartment, slightly relieved at the reprieve, and found Pete lying back on the sofa reading one of her books. He looked up.
“I can’t wake him up,” she said. “I’ll go back in half an hour. How about some snacks?”
She was just placing some cheese, crackers and olives on a plate when she heard a tapping at the front door; it opened. Griffin stood in the open doorway with the cup of coffee in his hand, staring in absolute shock at Pete Stebbings.
CHAPTER 55
Pete Stebbings stared back. Hatred spilled from his eyes.
Pete broke the spell.
“’Allo, Leo, you old bastard. How’re you doin’?”
Griffin plonked himself down opposite Ann, looking at her, puzzled and vague, waiting for her to say something, ignoring the phantom Pete.
“Griffin. Here’s the bottom line. Pete Stebbings is here.”
“Are you shitting me? Ann, did you plan this?”
“No, and first of all he didn’t report you to the FBI, nobody did. Madeleine told him she’d met you and he wasn’t interested, but his friend Barry was, and somehow his assistant tracked you down. It sounds like Pete’s forgiven you, his life is good, and…”
“And, like I told Ann, I just want to heal the past now. What about you, man, you look bloody awful. Is this what vengeance looks like?”
Griffin drained the cup empty and focused his bleary eyes on the apparition in front of him. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tried to speak, clearing
his throat as a cover for his complete discomfort.
“I don’t really know what it looks like. And how can I believe you weren’t responsible for bringing the law down on me?”
“Well, you can’t. Because I can vow it wasn’t me personally, but I do believe that somehow my conscientious minders must have walked into a few old tripwires that had been set up around you by the law in their quest to track you down. And that was not so much for me, not specifically anyway, but more because of our old friend Barry Turnbull, remember him? He went off the rails when he heard you were still around. He’s been wanting to dismember you since lily law walked in that night. He knew you set us up, an animal instinct he has, and you fucked up his life. I have to tell you, he’s a basket case just staying this side of suicide by a sacrificing wife and a shitload of pharmaceuticals. How do you feel about that, King Leo, Acid Guru to the Stars?”
Griffin winced and averted his eyes.
“Aren’t you going to tell us why the FBI is so interested in you after this many years? It wasn’t just because you were their dealer, and you didn’t fail in your mission, not the first one anyway, you certainly did away with The Veils and turned a generation of kids on to acid, eh? What’s the rest of your story, Leo?”
Griffin let out a huge sigh, turning up pleading eyes.
“I just went through that with Ann. My confession, I mean. Do I have to do it again? Right now? Please, Ann, you tell him. I’m out of words.”
“Suits me, Leo, I’ll listen to Ann telling me any kind of story.”
Ann leaned over to Pete and laid her hand on his arm. Then she thought better of that idea, got up and sat close to him, linking her arm through his. They exchanged a look of complicity, with Griffin’s face becoming even more miserable before she spoke again.
“I’ll fill him in with the story up to the point where you left off, Griffin. Where you said you took a file, they never found it, then you escaped. What did you do, create your own witness protection program?”
The Acid King Page 13