‘All the time. It’s a curse.’
‘Am I going to have to put up with this when we’re married?’
‘You’ll put up with it and like it, young lady.’
‘I love it when you talk to me like that.’
‘I know you do.’
Our food arrives, so we busy ourselves with that for a while. There’s no ice in my drink and I can’t remember whether I asked for it or not. They should have put it in without me having to ask. I’m surprised to see Paige eating a huge burger with fries. I imagined that she’d stay away from the carbs. I also imagined that smack killed your appetite. Just shows how wrong you can be.
‘Is there any way of finding out who bought the tickets to the Café Royal gigs?’ I ask.
‘And checking each of the four nights to see if…’
‘I’m calling him Mr X.’
‘To see if Mr X has gone to all four?’
‘That would be a great leap forward.’
‘Yeah. I don’t think it can be done. The venue sells the tickets to ticket agencies and they’re not going to let you look at their confidential sales files. It would be a huge breach of trust and possibly even illegal. You could buy the Café Royal tickets on a couple of burlesque sites, but you still had to buy them through those same agencies ultimately. I think there were two of them. For a charity gig like that one, the charity would probably be allocated a certain number for their important people; donors and all the rest of it.’
‘But the charity isn’t going to be giving those names out to someone like me.’
‘Very unlikely. It’s just impractical. Just try and imagine asking The Prince of Wales Theatre or somewhere to give you the names of all the people who bought tickets to whatever was playing last night. They’re just going to laugh at you. And the Café Royal is posh and reputation-conscious, which would make it even more difficult.’
She takes a huge bite out of her burger and chews for a while.
‘Besides, if you went and did something like that, you might run the risk of starting alarm bells ringing somewhere,’ she says. ‘You might be asking someone who’s involved in all of this. Anyway, even if you were able to look at some fictitious list of who attended those gigs, it might not mean much. When I’ve done residencies anywhere, there are always people who come night after night. It’s just a thing that happens.’
She’s right of course. It was still worth asking, I think. And if the worst comes to the worst, I can always ask Doug Teng to hack into the ticket agencies’ computer files. We finish our food and a waiter appears and asks us if we want anything else. I really feel full now, but Paige orders sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream and I order some more drinks. I get my mobile out. I didn’t want to do this earlier as I thought it might upset her, but I think she can handle it now.
‘Can I show you something? When I spoke to Jamie, I got him to describe the two men who assaulted him. I made sketches of both of their faces. Now these are not going to be anywhere near as good as a photograph, but could you take a look and tell me if either of them look familiar?’
I get Friendly Face up on the screen and hand the mobile to her. She sips her wine, takes a look and shakes her head.
‘Not familiar at all. Sorry. I’d have remembered that moustache, for a start. Not many people wear them like that now. He could well have been in the audience at the Café Royal, but it’s one of those places where you don’t mingle afterwards.’
‘Take a look at the next one.’
She wipes a thumb across the screen. This will be Big Bastard.
‘God. He looks like a creepy sonofabitch. Is he the one that used the iron bar on Jamie?’
‘No. That was the other one. This one just held Jamie down.’
‘He must have been strong.’
‘I think he was.’
She holds on to my mobile and flicks back in the other direction. Her eyes widen.
‘Oh my God! Where did you get this?’
She shows me. It’s the photo I took of Rikki’s computer wallpaper, featuring Paige in a shibari breast harness. I look up at her. She’s blushing. Cute.
‘It was on Rikki’s computer. I didn’t know it was you at that point, but I thought it might be someone who was important to him in some way.’
She laughs. ‘I’m blushing, aren’t I. Why am I so embarrassed? It’s crazy. I mean, you’ve seen me…you know.’
‘It was only when I Googled the names of some of the girls who Rikki seemed to have an interest in that I was able to identify you.’
‘I did a photo shoot for this photographer. He wanted to use a variety of showbizzy women in different bondage-themed photographs for a book he was doing. You know; a sort of classily erotic coffee table book.’
‘That costs a lot of money.’
‘Yeah. There was me and another burlesque artiste, a couple of models, some actresses, a ballet dancer; but something happened and the book was never published. I still like that photograph, though. It was a shame. It would have been a cool book. I emailed it to Rikki. He was delighted to have something of me that no one else had seen. I didn’t know he’d made it his wallpaper. How could I?’
She gives my mobile screen another flick with her thumb. Her expression becomes incredulous.
‘What the hell?’
‘If we’re going to be in a relationship, you’re going to have to get used to photographs of satyrs going down on nymphs on my mobile.’
She laughs. ‘All my boyfriends have said that. Where did it come from?’
‘It’s a print on the wall of Rikki’s flat. I was curious about who painted it. And it might have significance. You never know. Does that sound lame?’
‘The style doesn’t look familiar. Good, though. Look at the way she’s lifting up her leg.’
She finishes her dessert and starts on her second glass of wine.
‘Anouk was telling me that you have a launch tonight at The Steel Yard.’
‘For the Mademoiselle Véronique range. Yes. Do you want to come?’
‘I have to come. Like I said, the only chance I’ve got to find out who the guys that worked over Jamie are is to pose as your latest boyfriend. It’s a long shot, but I’m hoping it’ll work.’
And with Declan present, I suspect, there’s a damn good chance that it will.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘First thing you can do is to give Declan a call. Tell him he won’t have to pick you up tonight. Tell him that I’ll be bringing you. He probably won’t ask you any questions, but just keep this in your head: we met two nights ago after the gig at Bordello. Anouk introduced you to me.’
‘And then you slept with Anouk. Were you playing hard to get?’
‘Yeah, well he doesn’t have to know about that.’
‘You think it’s him, don’t you.’
‘He’s on my list of suspects. I don’t think he’s Mr X, though, if that’s what you mean.’
‘Go on.’
‘When Anouk went off to chat to Anja Stipanov, it was obvious that there was an instant and powerful sexual chemistry between us. We kissed passionately. I had to push you away. You begged me to take you there and then and you didn’t care if anyone came in. In fact, you wanted someone to come in. You welcomed it. The thought thrilled you.’
This makes her laugh. ‘How long have you been thinking about this?’
‘Ever since the moment we met. So you give me your number and demand that I call you. When I prevaricate, you start to get hysterical, so I reluctantly agree. We arrange to meet the next day. We go out to dinner. Despite the delicious, exotic desserts on offer, you can’t wait to get back to my place and insist that we leave immediately after the main course. You’re still chewing a difficult piece of meat as we leave the restaurant. Our first night together was comparable to the frenzied rutting of demented wild beasts. Your cries of ecstasy and foul-mouthed encouragement could be heard in Guernsey.’
She rests her chin on one
of her hands. ‘This is the most exciting relationship I’ve ever had. I had no idea I was like that.’
‘Obviously you want to see me as much as possible, so you ask me along to your lingerie launch tonight. Now I assume that you’ll be busy for a lot of the evening, but whenever you get a chance, find me and act as if all I’d just told you had actually happened. I want people to see us together and I want them to think it’s serious. There needs to be a lot of touching and knowing glances. No overacting.’
‘And you’ll be bringing me back home as well?’
‘Of course. You may find you want to leave early, such is your lust. Make it obvious that that’s the case.’
‘Got it. So Declan will only be there as my general minder throughout the event.’
‘Yes. And to make things even sexier, I’ll be taking you there and back on a flash Italian motorcycle that I’ve hired. Don’t tell Declan he won’t be bringing you home when you call him. Save that for when you’re at the venue. I’ll get you a helmet later on today. Now I know that’ll be a problem for you with your clothes. Can you get someone to take what you’ll be wearing to the venue so you can change when you get there?’
‘I’d be changing there anyway.’ She takes a hefty slug of wine and delicately wipes the sides of her mouth with her fingers. ‘I have to do a little presentation at the beginning and at the end of the show and I’ll be wearing a different outfit for each presentation. I’m sharing the changing room with the models.’
‘Can I come in and check you’re all OK?’
She laughs again. ‘What sort of person are you? There’s a friend of mine who’ll be going tonight, Emma Antonsen aka LouLou DuBonnet. She’s lovely. You should see her act. Verges on the pornographic. If I’m going on your bike, I’ll pay for her to get a cab over to my place and take my stuff to The Steel Yard. I can go and pick it up tomorrow. Oh, and that’s another thing: Emma always hits on everyone else’s boyfriends or lovers. It’s just the way she is. If she tries it on with you, you’ll know we’ve been convincing.’
‘Are you sure you’ll be OK with all of this? I know it’s asking a lot.’
‘I want to do it. Don’t forget, these people have screwed me over as well. They’ve caused me unhappiness. And don’t worry about tonight; I’m a very good actress. I’ll make everyone there think it’s serious. I guess we’d better get used to each other so it’s not a shock if we have to kiss.’
‘What d’you mean?’ I ask, like a total idiot.
She closes her eyes and leans forwards. Her lips are soft. She gently opens and closes her mouth, her tongue lightly flicking against mine. I can hear her breathing and smell her perfume. I notice for the first time that she’s wearing Miss Dior. I hold the side of her neck and she gasps. I don’t know how long this goes on for. When we finally separate she opens her eyes and smiles at me.
‘See?’ she says. ‘Totally convincing and yet I felt absolutely nothing.’
‘I don’t even know what it is you’re referring to.’
She punches me in the arm and continues work on her sticky toffee pudding, the faint taste of which remains in my mouth. I keep having to remind myself that I’m with an expert in The Tease.
27
MORE SEX
There’s a motorcycle supplies shop near Embankment tube station, so I pick up a cab from The Lord’s Tavern and get it to drop me off right outside. I buy Paige a green and black HJC helmet, which turns out to be considerably more expensive than I’d imagined, but what the hell.
Taking her to The Steel Yard on the Ducati is a nice touch, even though the bike thing wasn’t planned. I want to speed things up and I want Declan Sharpe to hate my guts, and the bike will help. I suspect he’s already nonplussed with me after I made a tit out of him at Bordello the other night, so everything’s useful. I only hope my hunch about him is correct.
I walk up Villiers Street, cross over The Strand and take a convoluted route back to Exeter Street, heading north up Bedford Street, then west into Henrietta Street where I parked the bike last night outside a branch of Bella Italia. The bike is still there.
The road is clear as I walk towards my flat. If I clock anyone suspicious hanging around, I usually just keep walking and try again later. Probably unnecessary, but I simply can’t help myself. There are a few diners leaving Joe Allen’s and a small family group on their way in. Unlike most restaurants around here, you can book a table for lunch as late as four forty-five.
As soon I let myself into the ground floor entrance I know I’ve got a visitor and I know who it is.
By the time I’ve climbed up the stairs to the third floor, the scent of Musc Ravageur is getting stronger and now I can smell traces of an unusually aromatic tobacco.
I unlock the door and push it open with the ball of my hand. I have to admire her: to get past the two enhanced Yale cylinder locks, you have to open them simultaneously with the correct keys. If the second one isn’t opened within three seconds of the first, the first one locks itself again. This would foil even the most accomplished burglar, though with the right sort of skills, equipment and motivation it isn’t an impossible task. Miss Chow gets more interesting by the minute.
‘Honey, I’m home!’
I find her sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and one of her black cigarettes on the go. She flicks some ash into my red Murano glass ashtray. There’s a big Under Armour sports bag on the floor next to her. She’s wearing a black leather jacket, unzipped to reveal a matching push-up bra. This look is completed by a pair of vermilion high waist cigarette trousers and black high heels. She’s something else, she really is.
‘So,’ she says, blowing smoke into the air. ‘Imagine if we’re married and you come back to this after a hard day’s work at the office.’
She stubs her cigarette out, stands up, takes off the leather jacket, drapes it over the back of the chair, flicks her hair back, places her hands on her hips and thrusts her breasts out. ‘You won’t want to mess around with those secretaries at work with this girl waiting for you at home, I tell you that for nothing. I can cook, too.’
‘What’s your speciality?’
‘Sweet and Sour Fuck.’
‘Sounds delicious.’
‘You better believe it, honey. Number sixty-nine on the takeaway menu. Very popular. Big helping. You’ll want more half an hour later.’
I can’t stop myself laughing. ‘Those secretaries won’t stand a chance, Caroline. Would you like another coffee?’
‘Sure. Where’ve you been? I’ve been worried sick. I called the police helicopters out.’
I put Paige’s bike helmet onto the table and fire up the Siemens after filling it with La Joya beans. Anouk’s Samsung Galaxy is next to the sink. She must have forgotten it. I pick it up and pop it in my jacket pocket. ‘Working on finding Rikki. What have you been doing?’
‘This and that.’
‘Oh really?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Mr Sheng called me this morning. I’ll never have to pay for a meal in any restaurant, anywhere, for the rest of time.’
‘Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you about the others. Got distracted, I guess. What else did he say?’
‘Nothing much. He said you spoke very highly of me.’
She’s behind me, massaging my shoulders. This isn’t a casual, anyone-can-do-this massage; this is professional and is hitting all the right spots. I feel a mild headache I’ve had all day vanish immediately. That perfume she’s wearing is a bastard. I want to grab her. I can smell her sweat, the tobacco on her breath, the Italian leather of that bra.
‘I’m going to have to pick your brains about Rikki in a moment, Caroline. The more I’ve looked into all of this, the more complex it’s become.’
‘OK. And stop being so cool about me being here. I know you want to ask me stuff.’
‘What do I want to ask you?’
We return to the kitchen table. She sits opposite me and lights up again, placing her silver S.T. D
upont lighter on the table. I wish she’d put her jacket back on.
‘You want to ask me how I knew where you lived, for a start.’
‘I’ve had Mr Sheng’s people floating around me like a swarm of tiger mosquitos from the moment I left The Blue Lantern three days ago. How many examples d’you want? The two girls walking past the Pret in Wardour Street, the pretend drunk guy leaning against the church in Maiden Lane, the laughing couple in Catherine Street two nights ago. Shall I go on?’
She looks genuinely shocked. Good. I’d forgotten that I promised to call Anastasija from Zhodzina.
She shrugs. ‘Mr Sheng likes to know everything about people who are working for him. It’s nothing malevolent. He still owes you bigtime for that girl, you know? He’ll never repay that. He did say, though, that, uh, you were impossible to – how did he put it? – he wondered if he had imagined you.’
‘What does that mean?’
She fiddles with her bra straps and gives me a sweet smile. ‘Just an expression. We are very old-fashioned in some ways; very traditional. But we are very modern, also. There are ways of finding information about things and people in the blink of an eye.’ The smile disappears from her face. ‘But not about you.’
She pulls her long hair away from her face and holds it behind her head in an approximation of a ponytail. ‘You think I would make a good secretary in an office? You think you would ask me out to dinner and then to have sex?’
‘It’s very probable.’
‘So what’s going on with you? I’m curious, you know? I like you. You’re a good-looking guy. Good body. I liked the sex we had. That was good sex, you know? And the rest. It’s rare that someone can give me what I need without me having to pay for it. That’s why I’m here now. To get more.’
‘I’m charging this time.’
‘But this flat: the bars on the windows, the metal grills, the nightingale floor, the tricky locks, the ballistic glass everywhere – it’s really crazy. It’s like you’ve got a pathological fear of armed burglars or something. I found your compartment under your shower but the lock was beyond me.’
Femme Fatale Page 27