Blindside

by Wilna Adriaanse

  “Where to?”

  Ellie hesitated. “I have to go to the pharmacy.”

  When they were out on the pavement, Ellie locked the door and the security gate.

  “Brenda, I’m looking for someone to answer the telephone and do a bit of admin,” Brenda said after a while. “Somehow I never took you for a liar. And you don’t really need to go to the pharmacy.”

  “I didn’t lie. We do need someone to answer the phone and check the emails. I didn’t know anyone would come nosing around.”

  “And the story this guy wanted to tell you? Why did you take him outside?”

  Ellie gave her the background, told her about Nazeem Williams and Reggie.

  “And you say it’s just about a bit of distrust?”

  “It’s complicated. You don’t always know why people act the way they do. If you’re uncomfortable, I’ll try to find someone else to man the office.” The wind whistling between the buildings was getting colder and Ellie wished she could go home and get under the covers. Then again, home wasn’t home any more.

  “I’m not uncomfortable about the guy who came nosing around. I’m uncomfortable because you’re lying to me.”

  “I —”

  Brenda stopped her. “Maybe you’re not lying … maybe you’re just not telling me everything. But that’s related to lying. Step-family, maybe, but still family. But I’ve kind of got used to the peaceful days, so I’ll hang around a bit longer. I promise you, though, if you screw me, I won’t be smiling.”

  “I’m not going to screw you.”

  “Okay.”

  They started walking back.

  “I know you were a cop and all that …” She gave Ellie a sideways look. “The little voice in my head says you’re still one, but that’s for another day. What I want to say is that I think you’re in over your head. You think because you’re helping to catch the bad guys you know how their minds work, but you don’t. You’re a lightweight compared to those guys. Their world is not for amateurs.”

  “And you think I’m an amateur?”

  “I suppose you know your job, but you’re one of those people who look for reasons to trust other people. Don’t do that. Believe instead that everyone is bad. That way, you sometimes get a surprise. But to live in hope is to be constantly disappointed. Believe me, most people are bastards. Present company included.”

  It could be the cold, her strange conversation with Nick Malherbe, Happy’s warning, the worried look in Brenda’s eyes, or the fact that her mom had gone on a date, but suddenly Ellie found herself on the verge of tears.

  “Thanks for handling the situation so well today. I appreciate it. If there’s another incident, I’ll understand if you want to leave.” Ellie gave Brenda the office key, said goodbye and hurried to where the car was parked. She switched on the BMW but switched it off again and sat for a while, close to tears. She had not cried since her father’s death and she didn’t want to bawl in the street about something someone had said to her that wasn’t even true. She wasn’t an amateur. Neither was she naïve. It was just hard at the moment, because the one person she had trusted implicitly was gone, and she felt exposed and vulnerable. The next one on her list, Melissa, was off limits. Even Clive and Albert weren’t options at the moment.

  She started the car and pulled away fast. The powerful engine purred as she turned the first corner. She wished she could carry on driving until the burning behind her eyes disappeared. Maybe she could take a drive over Chapman’s Peak. She had been very young the first time she drove over the pass with her dad. He’d gone slowly so that she could look at the sea far below them. On the other side of the mountain he’d turned and driven back the same way. He used to say you knew a road only once you had driven it in both directions.

  At the house she pulled into the garage and ran up the stairs. Voices were coming from the study and she left the keys on the bar counter. There was no sign of Clara.

  She had seen the Range Rover in front of the house, so Clara had probably not surprised Allegretti yet. She had just reached the stairs again when Nick Malherbe spoke behind her.

  “Everything okay at the office?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  “Did you manage to find another security guard?”

  “I think so. Thanks for bringing Clara.”

  She saw his eyes travel over her face. She turned and hurried down the stairs to her flat.

  She knew she had to make sure that Clara was okay and didn’t want to go out again, but she simply didn’t have the energy. All she wanted to do was climb into bed, draw the blankets over her and try to warm up.

  Nick followed her with his eyes. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. Most people had no defence against basic kindness. Under normal circumstances he would have felt slightly guilty, but he was long past that, or he would never have survived in this job. You did what you had to do and believed one day you’d have the chance to become more or less human again.

  He wanted to know whether the woman at the office had told her about the enquiry. Was that why she seemed upset? Had she realised she was not cut out for this job? Whatever the job might entail. Or was it only the sadness he had seen in her eyes that first day? He took out his phone and sent her a message. Relax. Your client is safe and the two of them won’t be going out again tonight.

  It took a while before the answer came back: Thanks.

  CHAPTER 25

  Loud noises woke her. She sat up, confused. She thought she heard voices, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She looked at her cellphone. It was two in the morning. She was lying on her bed in the flat, fully clothed, her shoes still on. The blanket was drawn up to her chin. Her side hurt and she realised her pistol was still under her arm. She got up and opened the door. The voices echoed down the stairs.

  “Come, lovey, come back to bed. You can’t drive now. Where do you want to go anyway?”

  “Let go of me!” Allegretti’s voice was very loud.

  Ellie ran her hand over her face. What did her contract say about domestic disputes? Should she intervene? Should she close the door and say she hadn’t heard anything? But then she saw Nazeem Williams’s face in her mind and she hurried up the stairs.

  Allegretti was struggling to press the lift buttons, while Clara hung on to his arm. They were both naked.

  “For fuck’s sake, Enzio, you don’t even have any clothes on.”

  “That didn’t bother you earlier.”

  “Mr Allegretti, if you want to go somewhere, I’ll drive you. Just get dressed first. We don’t want the police to lock you up for indecent exposure.”

  Ellie saw him struggle to focus on her face. “Who are you again?”

  “My name is Ellie.”

  “Hello, Ellie. My name is Enzio. It would be nice if you came with me. She,” he pointed at Clara, “is in a bad mood and I don’t like bad moods.”

  Ellie took his arm and tried to get him away from the lift. “Where are we going?”

  “I want to stop at the club and then we’re going to visit my friend Nazeem Williams. If he won’t take my calls, I’ll go and speak to him in person.”

  “What business do you have with Uncle this time of night?”

  Ellie knew she shouldn’t look but before she could stop herself, her eyes were travelling down the girl’s naked body. The Brazilian wax had indeed been a success. Damn, it had to hurt. She shivered slightly.

  “I just want to talk to him.” He pulled his arm from Ellie’s grasp. She lost her balance and fell forward, hitting her head on the wall. That would teach her to peek where she shouldn’t be peeking. She grabbed his arm again.

  “Lovey, we can go see him tomorrow. Come back to bed now,” Clara tried to calm him down.

  “I’m not stopping you. Elsa and I are going to have a drink.” He fixed his unfocused gaze on Ellie again. “You don’t happen to have any coke? Mine is finished. That’s why we have to go to the club first.”

  Ellie sho
ok her head. “I don’t have any.” She looked at Clara. The girl looked haggard and her teeth were chattering. It must have been a rough night. “Why don’t you go back to bed, Clara? I’ll stay with him and see that he doesn’t go anywhere.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Go to bed. I suspect he’ll pass out soon. What exactly did he take?”

  “He doesn’t usually drink so much. It could just be the combination that hit him tonight.”

  Ellie felt irritation push up in her throat like bile. The girl was defending him. But she didn’t say anything. Just watched as Clara kissed Enzio’s cheek and hurried up the stairs.

  Ellie wished she could at least get Allegretti into a pair of pants. At this time of night she really didn’t want to be confronted with a naked stranger. She looked around in vain for a tablecloth or something similar. In the end she managed to sit him down on the sofa and place a cushion on his lap. She sat down opposite him.

  “Do you at least have a joint?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He tried to get up again. “Let’s go to the office. I have some very good shit there.”

  She pushed him back onto the sofa. “We’ll go in a while.”

  “Williams is a bastard. But listen, if he knows what’s good for him …”

  The temptation was just too great. “What’s the problem?”

  He tried to get up again. “What are you drinking?”

  “I’ll get us a drink. What would you like?”

  He tried to look over his shoulder at the bar. “I’m in your hands. Surprise me.”

  Ellie poured two glasses of soda water. Into one she poured a little whisky. Just enough to lend a little colour to the drink.

  He took a sip and pulled a face. “Darling, are you trying to poison me?”

  “It’s always better after the second sip.”

  “Williams is a bastard.” He took another sip and leaned back on the sofa. Fortunately, the cushion was still in place.

  “What’s the problem? He allowed Clara to move in with you, didn’t he?” She sipped her soda water and almost pulled a face herself. She could at least have poured herself something better.

  “I’ve got a deal for him, but he’s playing hard to get.”

  “A business deal?”

  He nodded a few times. “A very lucrative one. But if he doesn’t want to come to the party, we’ll be forced to play hardball.”

  It was amazing that his brain still had a few defence mechanisms in place even in his condition, Ellie thought. He may not be able to stand up straight, but he knew not to blurt out too much about his business.

  “I love that girl, you know. I would never harm her.”

  “Clara?”

  His eyes were crossed when he looked up. “The one and only.”

  Ellie felt her flesh crawl. She didn’t like Clara’s name being mentioned in the same breath as Nazeem Williams’s and a business transaction. Before she could ask again what the problem was, he slumped on the sofa, and Ellie jumped to remove the glass from his hand to stop it from shattering on the floor. His eyes closed and his breathing instantly slowed down. She wasn’t sure if she should summon the security guards outside to take him to bed. In the end she picked up his feet, placed them on the sofa and fetched a blanket in one of the guest rooms. Even though she felt reasonably sure that he wouldn’t get up again, she settled herself on the other sofa and listened as he began to snore softly.

  What would she do if she found out he had something to do with her dad’s death? It wasn’t the first time she had wondered about it, but it was the first time the thought had presented new possibilities.

  Ellie was awakened by a hand on her shoulder. She made a grab for her pistol but it was taken out of her hand and she heard Nick Malherbe’s voice.

  “You really should stop sleeping with a firearm. You’re a bloody danger to everyone around you.”

  She sat up. Allegretti was still asleep on the other sofa.

  “Would you like to tell me what happened here last night?”

  Ellie was dying for a cup of coffee. Her mouth was dry and she had difficulty opening her eyes. She had a headache as well. “Allegretti drank too much and wanted to drive to the club in the middle of the night. Clara tried to stop him. They woke me with their arguing when he tried to get into the lift. After a while Clara went back to bed.”

  “What happened to your head?”

  She touched her forehead and felt the bump. “I stumbled and hit my head against the wall.” She got up. “Anything else you’d like to know?”

  “Why didn’t you phone me?”

  “I didn’t think it was necessary. He wasn’t a danger to himself or us. He was too drunk.”

  She stretched, walked past him, turned back to take her pistol from him and went slowly down the stairs. Inside the flat she fell down onto her bed, but got up almost immediately and switched on the kettle in the kitchenette. She needed coffee. And a shower. And she wanted to go through their conversation of the previous day slowly and with a clear head. Then she had to call Clive. She would phone him while Clara was busy with the magazine shoot.

  Nick closed the door behind him and stood still for a moment. Houses give away a lot about their inhabitants. The sitting room was tidy. Simple. A blue glass bowl on the coffee table. A colourful woven throw over the backrest of the sofa. Two photos on a coffee table. He recognised John McKenna’s red hair and presumed the woman with him was his wife. He stooped to study the photograph. Ellie McKenna looked like her father. The other photo showed her as a young girl with another blonde girl. They were laughing at the camera. The sunlight set her hair on fire. Why would anyone decide to dye such wonderful hair?

  Despite wearing gloves, he was careful about touching things. Even if you thought you’d put something back in the exact same place, it was seldom the case and someone who was attentive and knew her space would see it at once.

  The kitchen was tidy, with only the bare essentials on display. He opened the cupboards. The usual. Crockery, glasses, serving dishes, pots. Cutlery in a drawer.

  The bedroom looked more or less like the rest of the house, except for the shoes next to the bed. Neatly lined up. The duvet was in shades of blue. No jewellery on stands. No makeup lying around. The guitar in the corner was a surprise. He wondered if she played. When he opened the cupboard, he smiled. Her clothes were sorted and grouped together. Neat piles on the shelves. Except for a few small lacy numbers, most of her under­garments had been selected for comfort. No sex toys, leather whips and collars. There was a man’s sweater in her wardrobe. The detective’s? A toothbrush in the bathroom. Was it a spare one, or did it belong to an overnight guest? No computer in the study. He had hoped to find one. No files either. No indication of her profession. Out of sheer curiosity he had a look at her CD collection. She had a broad taste in music. Her bookshelf was stocked with a wide variety of reading matter.

  The sweater and toothbrush were the only indications of a possible boyfriend. It bothered him that the house gave so little away. Was it because it had been purposely tidied, or was she just a neat, orderly person? Someone who didn’t know how to let her hair down? Yet she had a guitar. And a few sexy under­things. He didn’t know whether he was disappointed or relieved that there were no skeletons in her cupboards. Annoyed, rather, because he had no time for this. He had come here hoping to make his life easier. He was looking for answers. Not more questions.

  Just before he locked the door behind him, he dialled a number and heard a few beeps as the alarm switched back on. The guys were good.

  “I want to see you.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m not sure. That’s why I want to speak to you, but not on the phone.” She kept silent about the fact that she needed to see a familiar face. Clive was worried enough about her.

  “Can you get away?”

  “Not really. You’ll have to meet me somewhere around here. Clara is doing a magazine shoot all da
y at a studio in Buitengracht Street. There’s a coffee shop across the road. I’ll wait for you there.”

  “Just make sure you don’t have a tail.”

  An hour later Ellie saw Clive. She was surprised she recognised him. He was wearing glasses, a false moustache and a bandanna around his head. She began to laugh.

  “You look like a cross between a confused nerd and a lost old hippie.”

  He sat down opposite her. “What I wouldn’t do to cover your arse. You look terrible. Is life in the fast lane not so glamorous after all?”

  She told him about her night.

  “Jeez, all that money and they get just as hammered as the rest of us. Sad.”

  “The difference is that the stuff they get drunk on is considerably more expensive than what the rest of us have to make do with.”

  The waiter came and they ordered coffee and toasted sandwiches. Ellie had positioned herself so that she could watch the entrance to the studio. She had made sure there were no back doors. She could also see the fire escape next to the building.

  While they were waiting for their order she told him what Allegretti had said the previous night.

  “You can’t take the rantings of a drunk man seriously.”

  “Those are probably the only words I should take seriously. Some of his filters may still have been on, but he’s pissed off with Williams and it has nothing to do with Clara. Clara might become part of the picture, though. I need to see my board. I need my files. If I had time, I’d find the answers there.”

  “Not gonna happen. You can’t be caught with even a scrap of information.”

  She drew the napkin nearer and took out her pen. Clive shook his head. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “It’s easier if I have pictures in front of me.”

  She wrote down names and drew criss-cross lines, connecting the names.

  “Why did he say he’d never hurt Clara … And what does he want from Williams? Barkov screwed him over. In exchange he fired shots at Barkov’s home and killed two of his people. Then Mang shot at Allegretti’s car and someone shot and killed one of Allegretti’s men. Barkov is looking to connect with Jonathan, but they want to teach him a lesson first. Where does Williams fit into the picture?”