Cuts Both Ways

by Solomon Carter

  “Always,” said Dan.

  “I thought you’d be asking me for some intel on the Uber gang.”

  “Keep up, Alice. Tommy Pink and Clive Grace are yesterday’s news. That’s over with.”

  “But the Uber gang aren’t, are they? I’m putting together a little piece, still in the research stage. Maybe you could help with that?”

  Dan shook his head. “Sorry. It’s the Toxic gig I’m interested in.”

  Perry raised an eyebrow. “Interesting… Why are you asking me about that night?”

  “Because we’ve had an inquiry come in about a missing person. A potential new client brought in a clipping of your gushing gig review about DJ Toxic.”

  The girl blushed again. She shook her head. “It’s not gushing. I just said he was good.”

  “Was he?” said Dan.

  “His music was good,” said Perry, looking uncomfortable for the first time. “Why would your client bring in a clipping of my event review?”

  “Well, sorry, but it wasn’t down to your amazing journalism. The guy was concerned with the photo accompanying the article. Do you remember it? There was some skinny chick raving in the foreground, hands in the air, big bouffant hair, tattoos on her biceps…”

  “Uh, yeah… I think I do remember her. She was a great dancer – threw some wicked shapes. Let me guess. She’s your latest case?”

  Dan nodded. “We think so. She’s a Mis Per, but the police don’t see it that way, not yet. Her name is Alma. Surname Poulter – like the golfer.”

  “Never heard of her. Alma? Pretty unusual name.”

  “Blame her parents. What matters is that we find her. We could do with looking at any photographs you have from that night. Anything which shows who she might have been with or might give us some certainty that she is our girl. We need to be sure.”

  “I see,” said Perry. “So you need this to help your case?”

  “It’s either a starting point or a stumbling block. Either way we have to check it out.”

  “And this is the only reason you wanted to meet?”

  Dan hesitated, unsure what the right way to play it was. Play it too cold, and Perry would walk without a hint of help. Act too friendly, and well, there was a risk of reopening an old problem. In the end, Dan took too long to answer. There was a flash of irritation in Perry’s eyes. She sipped her drink and leaned forward on the table.

  “That photograph.”

  “Yes?”

  “Not the one in my article. I mean the one you took of me. You know the one.”

  “Alice…”

  “You’ve still got it on your phone?”

  Dan rubbed his forehead with his thumb. “Yes…”

  “Show it to me.”

  “What? Come on…”

  “Show me.”

  “Why?”

  “Just do it.”

  “And what’s that going to achieve?”

  “We’ll see, shall we?”

  Dan stretched out his back and sat tall in his seat. He slipped his phone from his jacket pocket and dabbed the gallery icon on the home screen. He swiped through the photo gallery with his thumb. He slowed the deck of images as he reached last year. And then he saw a blink of peach coloured flesh scroll past. He slowed down and pulled the image back to the screen and blinked at it. He handed the phone across to Perry as she watched his eyes. Perry’s eyes flicked from his to the screen and a smile slowly dawned on her face.

  “Not my best side, I must say. But then, even my worst side looks a darn sight better than most, even if I do say so myself. And you kept it all this time, didn’t you?”

  She tilted her head and looked up at Dan.

  “Don’t, Alice.”

  “But I can, can’t I? Because you’re here.”

  “You know exactly why I kept that.”

  “I do,” said Alice. “And so do you.”

  “To protect myself and Eva.”

  “Whatever you say, hotshot. But I’m really sorry. Because I can’t let you keep it anymore. Would you like one last look before I delete it?”

  Dan’s brow tightened. “You’re not deleting anything. That’s my phone.”

  “And that’s my body. Listen to me. If you want my help, going out on a limb to call in a favour from our photographer, then you’re going to delete that image right now.”

  “Alice…”

  “Delete it or I don’t help you at all, anymore, or ever again. I know you needed my predecessor, Gemma Cassidy’s help before I took over. And I know you need mine. You always need information in your line of work, and here I am, the ever-ready source. Or not, as the case may be. Delete that photo or I walk and I don’t come back.”

  Dan sighed. He took the phone back from Perry and glanced at the screen. He caught a glimpse of the naked version of the girl – small, flustered and frisky. His thumb wavered once, and then he hit delete. Do you want to delete this photo? Asked his phone. Dan hit Yes. And the image blinked out of existence once and for all.

  “Smart move, Dan. Which means you and me are officially back on good terms, and your number one information source is still fully operational.”

  Dan slid his phone into his jacket and gulped his beer with irritation, mostly at himself. “Then you’ll get me the other snaps from that gig?”

  “Yes. I think I can do that. I’ll have to speak to my photographer, call in a favour, see what happens. It’ll take a little while. Favours always do.”

  The girl checked the time on her phone and started to finish up her drink. She smiled. “Well I think this first little meeting’s gone pretty well, don’t you?”

  Dan sipped his beer.

  “I’ll get your photographs.” Alice stood and downed the rest of her cocktail. “And listen, just between us two – if you ever want another special little nude shot, I’m sure we could arrange something. Only next time you’ll have to ask very nicely, understood?”

  “Just get me those snaps, Alice.”

  “I will. And then you’ll owe me one, won’t you? Say hi to Eva for me.”

  Perry flashed him a bright smile and turned tail towards the front double doors. Dan watched her walk away, his eyes ever-so-briefly attaching to the sway of the girl’s hips before he looked away with a silent self-rebuke.

  “Playing with fire,” Dan muttered to himself. He waited a long two minutes to be sure Perry was gone, before he downed the rest of his beer and walked out. Somehow, Perry had made him feel compromised. Sometimes it felt like the PI business was as low-down dirty as it got. And sometimes Dan realised there was always the potential to go lower still.

  Right there, Dan promised himself it wasn’t going to happen.

  Six

  When Eva walked into the office, her eyes were small and tight and her smile was strained. Mark stopped typing and looked up at her as she passed his desk. She didn’t look herself.

  “Coffee,” she barked, not liking the scrutiny of her face.

  At the back of the office, Dan scanned the same hard look on Eva’s face as Mark had seen before him. Mark jumped up and breezed past them, rushing towards the back kitchen before anyone could bark at him again. Eva’s eyes softened when they landed on Dan. She put her hands on her hips and blew out a long, deep breath.

  “The Lauren case is stressing you out,” said Dan.

  “Only because it’s getting murkier. I’d been banking on most of it being in Lauren’s mind. She was always one for the dramatic overstatement even back when we were school friends. But now I’m not so sure. Because Jamie Blane has threatened to hurt her family even if she leaves him, she’s trapped. Which means I am too.”

  “Okay, but threatening her family – we knew that part already. It’s no more than a standard issue gangster threat copied from every low budget gangster movie you’ve ever seen.”

  “Probably. But last night Lauren went out in the middle of the night and got into Blane’s car. She found that he’d hidden a knife, wrapped in a bubble bag envelope. And I
mean a proper knife, a military style dagger with a serrated edge. Not a butter knife.”

  “Okay…” said Dan. “Now think for a minute. This is a guy who likes to make threats. What if he likes to make those threats seem real? What if the weapon is just a prop? You know, something designed to scare her. That would still be controlling, manipulative, sick even – but not quite the full Bates Motel.”

  “But, Dan, this is Psycho material. He’s bought a knife, he’s hiding it in the car, he’s threatening to hurt people. Even if this was a prop – we still can’t take that risk – the knife proves this guy is a crackpot… And then Lauren told me what else she’d found.”

  “What now?”

  “A couple of old emails she found in his email account. They were sent and received either side of the fatal accident of Blane’s first wife. She died in a car crash on the A12 about three years back. Lauren says those emails suggest Blane had planned and organised that accident.”

  Dan blinked at Eva, reading her face. “He killed his own wife?” Eva nodded.

  “That’s only what Lauren says…” he added. “Is Lauren losing it? That can happen in situations like this.”

  “I know, but what she told me about the contents of those emails fits her theory. And Lauren promised she would copy and send me those emails. If she’s right about this, it means Lauren’s been sitting on a timebomb from the moment she got involved with the guy. A killer who thinks he’s gotten away with murder once could well kill again.”

  Dan fidgeted with the corner of a file on his desk. Eva realised something was troubling him too, but Dan saw her watching him. He smiled and shrugged off her inquiring gaze.

  “We just need to be very sure, Eva. We don’t want anyone to manipulate us.”

  “Manipulate us? Sure about what?” said Eva.

  “About all of it. You have to be sure before you act. Do you want my help to look at this? Two heads are better than one, and all that?”

  “No, no. It’s best you start on the Poulter case. I really need to push on with this one. Lauren says we don’t have time to analyse things like that. She’s sure Blane is going to try and kill her any time now. And to be honest, she might well be right. I need to come up with a safe solution as soon as I can. Lauren needs to be taken away from this guy without any consequences for her or her family.”

  “There’s always consequences. That’s life.”

  “Well, this time there can’t be any.”

  “Eva, do you really think this guy is a psycho?”

  Eva met his eyes. “It seems likely. He’s certainly a letch who wants to score with as many women as he can. I called his office – undercover, pretending to be a potential client. From what I gathered from talking to his PA, I think he’s having an affair with the hired help and get this – before the call ended he even asked me out on a lunch date too.”

  “I take it you declined,” said Dan.

  A weary smile finally broke across Eva’s face.

  “I took a rain check. I think Lauren’s telling the truth, Dan. But the twisted, Freudian stuff just does my head in.”

  “Freud? Where did he come in?”

  “Into our friendship, that’s where. The friendship Lauren pulled the plug on all those years ago. I know I was young, but it really messed me up for a while, and it’s still making things awkward now. I feel sorry for her – who wouldn’t in this situation? And in the heat of the moment I said something about us being friends again. She latched onto those words like I’d given her a pot of gold, and now I feel weird about it. I don’t know why I said it and I don’t even think I meant it. I mean, we’re not friends at all, are we? She cut me off, just like that. I can’t just forgive someone who did that to me for two whole decades. I feel for her, Dan. I want to help her. But friends…? No way. I just want this case over with.”

  “Forget about all that stuff. What you said doesn’t matter. You just felt sorry for her. Just get the case done and stay safe while you do, then take the fee and move on. You don’t ever have to deal with her again if you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t think she’ll make that easy. She seems a really needy person nowadays. I’ve muddied the waters by trying to be nice.”

  “Eva, don’t dwell on it. And by the way, if this guy really is in the Norman Bates fan club, then I’ll have to get involved whether you or Lauren like it or not. You’re the one who’s been talking about all the risks we’ve been taking. I can’t let you take any more. Not by yourself.”

  Eva closed her eyes a moment and tried to put Lauren to one side.

  “Okay. Then what about the Poulter case?” she said. Dan stiffened at the change of subject. Mark waltzed back into the office and handed each of them each a steaming coffee in the old chipped red mugs.

  “Any progress?” she said.

  Dan swallowed before he spoke. “Hmmmm… I tapped up Alice Perry for some info on that photograph from the DJ Toxic gig review at Maison Sol. Turns out Maison Sol was a pop-up nightclub held at Soleil. The place where the Sun Room used to be. Look, Eva,” Dan added quickly, “Alice Perry’s name was tied to that event review. I had to speak to her.”

  “I know, I know,” said Eva. “One of us had to do it. Better you than me. It would have only gotten messy. But she didn’t try anything, did she?”

  Dan coughed into his fist. “Nope, she didn’t. But she did insist I delete the nude pic from my phone before she’d even think of helping us.”

  “And? Did you?”

  “To progress the case, yes,” said Dan. He let Eva read his eyes. He barely blinked.

  “Then it’s good you also kept an email copy – remember?” Dan frowned as he read Eva’s eyes.

  It took a moment, but he remembered the email they’d sent Perry with the snap as an attachment. The one which promised to use the image against her if she tried anything else. The email attachment meant the snap was still waiting somewhere in the ether of the world wide web. “Yes! I forgot about that. But you know, I really don’t think that photograph counts for much anymore. Like you said, Perry is willing to do almost anything for self-advancement.”

  Eva nodded. “And self-advancement is not all she’s after, is it?” she said, with a sigh. Eva turned away with her coffee and dumped herself down at her desk. Dan winced at the comment, but there seemed to be no barb in it. No hidden meaning. “I’ll have to stay focused on Lauren,” said Eva. “But I want to keep my hand in with the Poulter case. So what else did Perry tell you?”

  “She remembered Alma Poulter from that night at Maison Sol. Said she was a good dancer, which fits what Rob Poulter said about her. But that’s about it. We’ll need to check the rest. Let’s hope her photographer friend comes through with the goods.”

  “Fingers crossed,” said Eva. “I’ll call our police friends to see if they have anything on Alma. If she’s in with some bad people there’s a chance they may already know her. Unless you want to do that too?”

  “No. Hogarth prefers dealing with you. You make the call. We’ll get more from it.”

  “Hogarth’s not the only face at Southend police station.”

  “But he is the sharpest one.”

  “We’ll just have to see who we get.” Eva picked up the phone to dial the police number but hesitated as she noticed Mark sulking quietly at the front desk. He didn’t seem to be working. Just staring into space.

  “Mark, I’m sorry for snapping at you like that,” said Eva. “I’m just having a very stressful day, that’s all.”

  Mark turned in his seat and nodded. “It’s okay. I know.” But his face barely softened at all. A bleak look remained in his eyes.

  “Mark. What is it? You haven’t had a row with Joanne, have you?”

  Mark paused before he shook his head. “No.”

  “Then… what’s up?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just…” He shook his head and turned back to his computer. “Oh… it’s nothing.”

  “Mark, you can talk to us.”

/>   But Mark declined. He stayed silent and began to type again. Eva shook her head and dialled the number she knew off by heart. One of the few direct dial numbers into Southend Police Station. A number by rights none but the police should have had access to. When the call was answered, the voice at the other end wasn’t friendly in the least.

  “Who is this?” said the female voice.

  Eva heard the antagonism in the woman’s voice. A strangely familiar voice, but Eva didn’t want to engage. “Can I speak with PC Dawson.”

  “Dawson’s not in. Look, if you’re a member of the public, you can use the general number just like everybody else.”

  Eva’s eyes narrowed. “Is that PCSO Penner?” she said. Eva’s guess was based on tone of voice and sour attitude.

  “Yes. Why, who is this?”

  “This is Eva Roberts. You remember me, I’m sure.”

  “Of course, I know you. The private investigator. You and the other one are always poking around causing trouble.”

  Eva refused to bite.

  “If I’ve come through to the PCSO team then can I speak to PCSO Bec Rawlins?”

  “Why? What do you want with her?”

  This time Eva couldn’t resist. “The same as you – most of the time. I’ve had a call come in about a MisPer. I wondered if anyone your end might have heard anything about her.”

  “MisPers have nothing to do the PCSO team. Not our department. We’re community liaison. There’s a whole national database for that kind of thing.”

  “I know, but as this particular woman is vulnerable and could be caught up with one of the drug gangs I was hoping for a little inside track. Just one colleague to another.”

  “You people always want us to do your job for you.”

  “I can assure you, it’s mostly the other way round.”

  “I doubt that very much. Look, hold on. I’ll see if anyone here has time to help you.”

  Eva listened as Penner dropped the handset heavily onto her desk, the clatter almost damaging her hearing.

  “You got through to Penner?” said Dan.

  Eva nodded.

  “Bad luck,” he added, sipping his coffee. “The chief there should have sacked her when they had the chance.”