Molls Like It Hot

by Darren Dash

  “I think we have more important things to be discussing than the ceiling,” No Nose sniffed.

  “There’s always time to talk DIY,” Goodnews demurred.

  “Hush, boys,” Lucy said softly. She touched my arm and smiled comfortingly. She could see I was wound tight enough to turn a lump of coal into a diamond. “Let’s settle down and hear what Eyrie has to say.”

  What did I have to say?

  I’d decided to be a hero. Tell Brue nothing about the abduction. Let him think Toni was safe and sound. Try to find out where she was. Go after her. Rescue her. Take her to the meeting on Sunday. Ride away into the sunset with my life and the hundred K. Couldn’t be any simpler, right?

  Hah.

  I knew it was a crazy plan. As if I could find her in a city the size of London. As if I knew where to start or how to look. As if I had any idea how to get her out of the clutches of whatever mad bastard had taken her. I was just a cabbie. Talk about charging at windmills!

  But this was my only hope. If I won her back, I’d secure my safety and get out of this mess alive, with a huge wad of cash to boot. If I didn’t, I was a dead man. Either Brue would kill me, or the people who’d taken Toni would return and make good on their threat.

  (There was one other option. I could turn myself over to the police, tell them everything and take my chances. But I wasn’t that dumb or that desperate.)

  At least, that was how I saw things. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe Brue would be understanding, and the note was an idle threat. Maybe I had nothing to fear from either set of gangsters. But I couldn’t take that chance, and action was preferable to inertia. This way I could at least try to control my destiny.

  I looked round at Lucy and the others, who were all staring at me, waiting for me to explain why they’d been summoned.

  “I need to find someone,” I muttered. “A girl.”

  “Oh-ho!” Caspar grinned.

  Dave groaned. “For that I got up at cockcrow?”

  “Haven’t you heard about Tinder?” Mickey Goodnews asked.

  “I think he means a girl that he already knows,” Lucy said quietly.

  “A girl in trouble,” an intuitive No Nose added. “Because I’m sure our good friend here wouldn’t call us just to help him find a lady he was sweet on, so that he could seduce her with flowers and chocolates. Am I right, Eyrie Brown?”

  “You’re right.” I licked my lips, working out how much I should tell them. I could trust every one of them but I was determined to be careful. I didn’t want them to get too tangled up. This was my mess, not theirs. I’d wanted to keep them completely out of it. That was no longer possible – well, it was, but not if I wanted to live too – but I could shield them to some extent, tell them no more than was absolutely necessary.

  “Three people were killed in DEL’S last night,” I began.

  “I heard about that,” Caspar piped up. “I was working late. One of my last fares told me. Only he said it was seven or eight who got wiped. Some crazy guy and his foxy lady pulled guns and…”

  He stopped, eyes widening into two full moons.

  Everybody stared, first at Caspar, then at me.

  I coughed discreetly and looked aside.

  “Eyrie?” Dave asked quietly.

  “I can’t tell you who she is,” I said. “I can’t tell you how I’m involved. All I can say is that I have to find her. I’m a dead man if I don’t. I hate having to ask, not least because this could endanger you, but I need your help.”

  “Is what Caspar says true?” No Nose asked.

  “It was three people, not seven or eight.”

  “You were there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You killed them?”

  “No. It was the girl. She had her reasons. She’s connected, know what I mean?” Everyone nodded. “I was supposed to be guarding her, but she’s been stolen out from under me. If I don’t get her back, I’m going down.”

  There was silence after that, each of them pondering my words, considering the situation, wondering how dependably boring Eyrie Brown could have got swept up in a tropical shitstorm of this magnitude.

  “What do you want us to do?” Lucy eventually asked.

  “There’ll be talk about the murders,” I said. “I want you to listen to the gossip and throw a few apparently innocent questions at those who might be in the know. Nothing obvious. Don’t make it seem like you’re pumping them for information. I don’t want any of this rebounding on you.”

  “What do you want to know?” No Nose asked.

  “Where she is or who might have an idea.” I shrugged. “I doubt you’ll find out anything definite, but even a sliver of a hint will help. If I know there’s talk of a certain gang involved, in the east, north or wherever, I can hit that area and scout around. Right now I haven’t a clue where to start. If you can point me towards a whiff of a scent, it’d be something.”

  “How are we supposed to question them?” Adrian inquired.

  “Subtly,” I said. “Drop it into conversation casually, like it means nothing. Get talking about the crazy guy and his chick in DEL’S, the way Caspar’s fare chatted to him about it last night, the way Caspar brought it up just now. If they respond, act the ghoul and fish for juicy details, as if you’re looking for a juicy story to share with your mates. If they don’t volunteer information, don’t push.”

  “And if we learn something?” No Nose murmured. “If someone says he knows who the crazy bird was, and suggests he knows a thing or two more, what then?”

  “Call me and I’ll take the investigation from there.”

  “This investigation…” No Nose said hesitantly. “I don’t want to get involved in anyone’s murder…”

  “This isn’t about revenge,” I assured him. “All I want is to save the girl. I might rough up a few people if I have to, but I won’t kill anybody, not unless they corner me and I have absolutely no other choice.”

  They looked around and began to discuss it. I made coffee for them, feeling like an outsider in the gang for the first time ever. They kept shooting me sly glances which they thought I wouldn’t spot, like they’d never really seen me before, like I’d changed.

  Which I guess I had.

  “OK,” No Nose said in the end, speaking for the group. “We’ll hit the places where there’s most likely to be talk about this, bring it up with anyone who might have heard anything, fish for whatever’s being openly shared. How long do you want us to keep it up?”

  I had to think about that.

  “Let’s meet this evening at TERRY’S, six or thereabouts if you’re OK to work that long. If nobody’s heard anything, I’d love if you could try again for a few hours tonight, then again tomorrow morning into early afternoon, however much of that time period you can spare. After that it won’t matter.”

  No Nose nodded, then paused. “Eyrie… if we get a line on whoever took her… if you want some of us to tool up and come with you…”

  I smiled thankfully for the offer, but said, “No. I’ll take it from there, if we get there. I’m stuck with this craziness but there’s no reason why any of you should suffer too. If you find out anything that might help me figure out where she is, or who might know, that’ll be enough.”

  I sipped the coffee and stared into the swirling whirlpool inside the mug. “Hell, that’ll be a debt I can never repay,” I said softly over the rim, knowing I was asking more of them than a man ever should of his friends, knowing they could get into serious trouble for this, hoping I didn’t drop any of them as deep into the shit as I was.

  I went to bed soon after they’d left. Had trouble getting to sleep, but slept fairly soundly once I did. Dreamt of beaches and rolling waves. Zahra was in some of the dreams. Toni too. But not together. In my dreams, as in the real world, they were a pair of ladies destined never to meet.

  As anxious as I was to start searching for Toni, I needed the rest. I was physically exhausted and emotionally overwrought. If I’d hit the streets firs
t thing and spent the whole day searching, I’d have worked myself into an inert slump by mid-afternoon. I had time on my hands, thirty-plus hours. If I approached this with a focused mind and employed sensible tactics, there was a chance (slim as it was) I might live to see Monday and the week beyond. If I gave in to blind panic, I’d be dead before I started.

  I went for a walk when I woke. The exercise helped refresh me. There was a welcome breeze blowing and my head cleared as I breathed rhythmically while I strolled.

  Was there any real hope of finding her? Probably not. But there was a chance (again, admittedly, a slim one). News travels fast in London, and nobody has secrets in a taxi — cabbies are blind and deaf as far as our clients are concerned. I’d heard people talking about affairs, burglaries, all sorts of mad shit, without it ever crossing their minds that the driver might be listening and taking note.

  That was why Brue had come to me for this job. He didn’t want his own men involved. Knew he couldn’t trust them to keep the secret. One would whisper it to his wife or lover or best friend. Who’d have another best friend. Who’d mention it to a few acquaintances. One of whom would know a guy who’d pay for such information while it was still piping hot.

  He didn’t trust me to keep a secret any more than he trusted his own crew, but as had already been many times acknowledged, I wasn’t part of their world. My friends were unlikely to mix with their friends. He’d hoped to limit the damage by limiting the circle of people the rumours could ripple through.

  After my sleep, I now had only twenty-four hours or so, but I figured there was a chance (I was through quantifying how slim it might be) that someone would talk before the deadline expired. This would be big news, a tied-up killer cleanly taken and carted off into the night. The gossip would surely kick in fast and furious.

  Unless she hadn’t been kidnapped by someone associated with a gang.

  I paused at a zebra crossing as I considered that possibility, which had just struck me. What if Toni’s abductor was a run-of-the-mill burglar? He cracks the lock, finds a woman bound up tight, almost flees with fright, thinking he’s walked in on some weird sex game. Then he realises she’s alone. Mulls it over. Smiles deviously. Frees her feet. Forces her down the stairs and into his car. Takes her home for entertainment. Leaves the note to worry me, to make me think it wasn’t a random kidnapping.

  I could forget the whole thing if that was the case. No way word of something like that would leak, not any time soon. Rapists must, by their damned nature, be better at keeping secrets than the rest of us. He might get drunk one night and boast of the looker he’d swiped, but I’d be long gone by that stage. Dead, on the run or in prison.

  I grabbed a sandwich and ate in a park. Sat there munching mechanically and people-watching. Lots of women with kids, and office workers enjoying a break, but I was most drawn to the old men who’d come out to soak up the sun. Would I live to grow tired of life’s little monotonies? Would I be sitting here, thirty or forty years from now, remembering this time fondly, as a period of my life when something had actually happened?

  I shook myself free of the foolish thoughts. The present was enough to be worrying about. Forget about tomorrow and all its brothers. If I could get through today, I wouldn’t be doing too bad.

  I bought another lock for the door on the way back. The neighbourhood was busy, as always on a Saturday. Normally I’d be making for the gym by now, if I wasn’t there already. Fervent would be wondering why I hadn’t turned up. Then again, he’d seen the girl. Had probably come up with a few ideas of his own to explain my absence. Lurid ones, if I knew Fervent Eld.

  I fixed the lock when I got home. Don’t know why I bothered. I’d have been as well off sticking some tape across the latch. At least then the woodwork wouldn’t get chipped every time someone busted in.

  Feeling caged inside the flat, I headed to TERRY’S early. Ordered coffee, the pasta of the day and a couple of toasted sandwiches. Wolfed them down. This was going to be a busy night and the last thing I wanted to worry about was a grumbling stomach.

  Dave turned up first, fit to drop. I asked why he was so beat and he told me he’d worked a late shift last night and had only got to bed a couple of hours before I rang. I apologised and said I wouldn’t have asked him to go out again so soon if I’d known. He waved away my apology and downed his coffee before ordering another.

  He hadn’t heard anything about the abduction. Plenty of people were talking about the shooting in DEL’S, but nobody was mentioning any names, not mine, not the girl’s. Word was it had been a contract killing, two professionals from out of town, long gone before the break of dawn.

  “How does it feel, being a contract killer?” he asked.

  “You’d better hope nobody ever takes out a contract on you,” I said and pointed a cocked finger playfully. But he could see I wasn’t in the mood for jokes and he didn’t say much more after that. He offered to do another shift but I told him to take the night off and get some sleep. It was clear he was wiped. He asked me if I wanted his cab – assumed I’d be doing what he and the others had been up to all day – but I passed. If I was to pinpoint Toni’s position and rescue her, at some point this had to go beyond innocent questions. Someone would have to not just stick their head above the trench to look around, but leap out and make a dash across no man’s land.

  That someone had to be me.

  There would very likely be severe consequences if I ever got to play my hand, so I didn’t want people clocking Dave’s cab, or one of my friend Larry’s cars if I borrowed another from him, connecting them to me, dragging them even further (and more fatally) into this. I’d find a way to get around. Steal a car if I had to.

  Adrian and Caspar arrived next, arguing about the quickest route to Hackney from Morden. The sort of dumb shit the likes of us argue about all the time. They hurried over when they saw me.

  “You’re in it up to your neck if they catch you,” Adrian hissed, sitting down, wasting no time on small talk. “You know who your girl shot?” I shook my head, pretending it was news to me. “Golding Mironova.”

  “So?” I shrugged.

  “As in Smurf Mironova’s sister.”

  I looked to Caspar, genuinely lost this time. “You know what he’s talking about?”

  “I do,” Caspar said, “but only because Adrian told me.”

  “Look,” Adrian explained. “Smurf Mironova’s a mad Russian bastard who… well, he’s not actually Russian, it was his old man who emigrated, but he speaks with the accent, you couldn’t tell he wasn’t Moscow born and bred, unless you were another Russian, then you could probably… Anyway, he’s a mad fucker. Has a gang of his own, and they hire themselves out, do the dirty work that other gangs shirk. Cripple innocent people, burn down orphanages, torture kindly old widows, that kind of shit.”

  I blanched. “And I helped kill his sister?”

  “Yeah.” Adrian laughed humourlessly. “Word is, Smurf’s royally pissed, but it’s not just your usual brotherly thing, he seems to have been overly fond of his sister, if you follow what I mean.”

  Caspar’s eyes widened. “You didn’t tell me that.”

  Adrian shrugged. “That’s what they say. Maybe it’s the truth, maybe it’s bull, but he had feelings for her one way or the other, and he’s on the warpath, offering money and favours to anyone with information about the killers, and he’s vowed not just to kill the pair when he catches up with them — he’s said he’s going to make an example of them, the kind of example London’s never seen before.”

  I was growing colder by the second. Like I hadn’t enough on my plate, without a psychotic, avenging, incestuous sibling to deal with.

  “Has anybody mentioned my name?” I asked quietly.

  “No,” Adrian said.

  Caspar hesitated, then nodded unhappily. “One guy told me about you – he was at DEL’S and saw you – but I think you’re safe, far as he’s concerned anyway. He’s not much of a talker. Only told me because he k
nows I know you, and I asked him about it, and I think he guessed I already knew you were involved. That said, if he gets wind of the reward being offered by this Smurf guy…”

  “Either of you hear anything else?” I asked. “About Toni, where she might be, who might be holding her?”

  “Nobody knows,” Adrian said. “Least, not that they’re saying. There have to be a few more like Caspar’s friend who recognised you, but they must be keeping it to themselves at the moment, because I didn’t hear a word about Eyrie Brown. Not even a whisper.”

  We drank in silence for a time. I didn’t know how to take their reports. Smurf Mironova was obviously bad news, and that meant it was good that nobody seemed to know anything. But if nobody knew or was talking, how was I supposed to find Toni?

  Caspar broke the silence. “This Mironova guy. What’s with the Smurf business? He a dwarf or something?”

  “Nah.” Adrian grinned. “It’s because of his nose. It’s blue.”

  “You serious?”

  “No shit. Blue as the sky. Fucked-up veins or something. Nobody’s ever been brave enough to ask. Well, nobody who lived to tell the tale.”

  The universe being what it is, No Nose arrived while Adrian was talking about Smurf Mironova’s nose, so they had to repeat everything they’d told me before we found out if he had anything to share. Turned out he hadn’t, except he’d heard my name a couple of times, which was worrying. Once by someone who had been at DEL’S, and once by someone who’d heard a rumour. But neither knew anything more about who the girl was, what it had been about, what might have happened to the killers afterwards.

  Adrian left to go back on duty and ask around some more. Caspar had a date that he couldn’t get out of. He was very apologetic but said the date had been in place for a long time and the lady had travelled from abroad. It sounded like the makings of a good story, but the story would have to wait for another night. I gave Caspar my blessing and off he trotted, a twinkle in his eye.

  Lucy arrived at six-thirty. According to her, my name had as good as been plastered on billboards all over London. Because of her gambling background, she was able to mix with a different crowd to the rest of us, and in those circles nearly everyone knew I’d been involved in the killings. Some were saying I’d shot all three of the victims (or six or eight or ten, depending on the version). Some said I’d been shot myself, an innocent bystander who was only trying to stop the crazy bitch with the gun. Some claimed I was a getaway driver. Some…