Be Careful What You Wish For (3 page)

BOOK: Be Careful What You Wish For
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The next minute, Levi was on the floor, clutching his eye, and security guards were wrestling Carl away from the ring and back up the aisle towards the exit. Vinnie whispered something to a huge thuggy looking guy with a bald head sitting next to him, and Thuggy disappeared up the aisle as well.

‘It looks like Vinnie understood exactly what Carl was shouting at Levi,’ I said.

‘Yes, but what was so important to make Levi lose his concentration and risk injury?’

‘I don’t know.’ I tucked my legs underneath me on the sofa, making myself comfortable. ‘But, anyway, you said yourself that Levi’s medical insurance payout would be negligible, so why the big interest in this?’

‘Like I said – I’ve got a personal interest in this. I had a call from Levi’s dad tonight. EJ says something’s going on with Levi and he’s worried.’ Brad glanced down at the ground, his eyes focusing on something I couldn’t see. ‘EJ was in my unit in the SAS. He’s a good guy, and I owe him a favour. I promised I’d do anything I could to help, and I always keep my promises.’

I locked my eyes on his and took a deep breath. The air felt cool on my lips. ‘Not always.’ I immediately regretted saying it the moment it flew out of my mouth. That’s the trouble with me: sometimes my mouth is a hundred miles ahead of my brain.

Brad opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off before this conversation headed somewhere I didn’t want it to go. There was no point going around in circles. Been there. Done that. I was so not doing it again.

‘Well, what does Levi’s dad think is going on?’ I asked.

‘EJ said Levi’s wife, Letitia, told him that Levi’s been acting jumpy and nervous lately and making rash decisions about things, which is apparently not like him. EJ’s tried to talk to Levi, in case he’s in some sort of trouble, but Levi wasn’t giving anything away. Levi and EJ don’t have a particularly good relationship anymore.’

‘I see.’ My mind whirred away, working overtime. ‘So you have a boxer, a banker, and a boxing promoter. The boxer gets injured – which may or may not have been staged – the banker has his bank robbed, then suddenly turns up at Levi’s fight; the promoter is involved in illegal sports betting, and about a squillion other criminal activities; and his cousin was done for armed robbery fifteen years ago. Interesting.’ I tapped my lips. ‘The question is: what do they all have to do with each other?’

‘That’s what I need you to find out, Foxy.’

Chapter 2

 

Good morning Sunday!

Breakfast is my favourite meal of the day – no, scratch that, anything that involved food is my favourite time of the day. I’d slept well the night before, despite the memory of Brad’s hair-molesting etched into my brain. This was exactly the kind of exciting distraction I needed to get my mind off my love life and get Amber Fox, Miss Shit-Hot Investigator, embroiled in a case of intrigue. Yes, intrigue was exactly what I needed.

I’d made a New Year’s resolution to be more healthy. What I should be doing right about now is heading for the gym, although the fact that I likened working out to a week in a Siberian prison camp doing hard labour tended to hinder my motivation somewhat. Instead, I stared out the bedroom window, checking the weather. It was the beginning of October, but in Brit weather-speak that could mean anything from twenty-five degrees to zero. No wonder everyone had bloody colds all the time.

I pulled on my usual uniform of black combat trousers and a black T-shirt, and stuffed my feet into some brown UGG boots. Next up on my list of priorities – food. I searched the kitchen cupboards for any sign of something to get me going. I wasn’t fussy, really. Anything that had a high sugar and caffeine content would suffice. One half-empty packet of crisps. A quarter slab of cheddar that was going mouldy. A full jar of strawberry jam. Two lonely peanuts left in a packet with no other peanut friends to keep them company. Six bottles of red wine. Four chocolate biscuits at the back of the cupboard.
Ooh, chocolate! How did I overlook those?
I glanced at the packet – they were a couple of months out of date. God, I really needed to go food shopping. I did find about half a bowl’s worth of sugar-coated cereal right at the back of the cupboard which still looked just about edible and polished if off with some instant coffee.

OK, stomach full, now I needed to tame my out of control curls. There was no way I was going to get a comb anywhere near my hair, so I scrunched it up a bit with some water and slapped on some mascara and lipstick. I fed Marmalade some stinky cat biscuits, grabbed my leather jacket and rucksack and headed off to meet Levi Carter.

 

****

 

I was expecting a mansion with the latest gadgets – big screen TVs, expensive furniture, a home gym and swimming pool – but in reality, Levi’s detached house was what you’d call a modest, four-bedroomed family home in a quaint village.

Levi’s wife, Letitia, opened the door to me wearing faded jeans and a fitted black shirt. I could tell by the quality and cut they were off the rack and not designer. She’d been crying and her black hair, that I suspected was usually a sleek mane, was rumpled and mussed up. In her hand, she held a tumbler full of golden liquid. I could smell its contents from the doorstep – brandy. It was half past ten in the morning, and I wondered what was causing her to drink this early in the day. Worry for her husband? Stress? Boredom? A guilty conscience?

‘Hi, I’m Amber Fox, from Hi-Tec Insurance.’ I held out my hand to shake hers.

She shook it clumsily, the jerking action causing some brandy to spill onto the step. ‘I suppose you’ve come about Levi’s medical insurance? I just knew you people would show up sooner or later.’ She leaned against the doorframe, her dark eyes cold.

You people?
OK, she was probably worried and upset that Levi was injured so I ignored the bitterness in her voice and smiled. ‘How’s he feeling?’

She shrugged and took a slow sip of brandy. ‘How do you think he feels? He had laser eye surgery last night.’

‘Is he up to talking to me?’

‘He’s resting, but he’s OK.’

‘I just need to ask a couple of routine questions – the kind we ask for any insurance claim. Is that alright?’

She stepped backwards and swept an arm behind her, swaying as she did so. ‘Be my guest.’ She led me through a bright and airy hallway into a long living room that was sparsely furnished. ‘You can wait here.’

As the sound of her footsteps disappeared up the stairs, I surveyed my surroundings.

Not a gadget in sight – the TV was probably as old as mine – Circa 1980 – and the only sign of gym activity was a Yoga DVD left on top of the TV. The furniture was plain and functional. A couple of three-seater brown suede sofas, a glass dining room table with wrought iron chairs, and a wooden bookshelf in the corner of the room.

Hmm, interesting
.

Photos of Levi and Leitita adorned a mantelpiece above an open fireplace. I bent forward, studying the photos. Levi at several title fights, holding various boxing belts, Levi and Letitia on their wedding day, a young Levi with an older black man who had a protective arm around him – probably EJ.

‘You can go up and see him,’ Letitia said, suddenly behind me. The tumbler was now empty and she had a small bottle of brandy in the other hand. ‘Up the stairs and first door on the right.’ She placed her tumbler on the dining room table, sloshed in a hefty refill and ignored me.

I left her to it and climbed the pale blue-carpeted stairs. I knocked on the bedroom door and it was opened by a stocky black man of around forty-five. He had salt and pepper short hair and the face of an ex-boxer with a nose that had obviously been broken several times.

‘Hi, I’m Levi’s trainer.’ He smiled at me, then glanced over his shoulder at Levi, lying on a king size bed. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Make sure you rest up, Levi.’ And with that he closed the door behind him.

‘Hi, Levi, I’m Amber. Your wife probably told you I’m from Hi-Tec Insurance.’ I smiled and quickly scanned the bedroom. Tidy, clean, but nothing particularly modern in it. Pretty bare, too. Nothing but a bed, a small black dressing table and matching stool, and two double pine wardrobes. The swags and tails on the curtains looked dated, as if they’d been in situ a long time. He was the heavyweight champion of the world and a huge crowd puller, so I would have expected a lavish house with state of the art gadgets and ultra modern furniture. And while his house was probably worth about a million quid, it was hardly what you’d expect for someone who could potentially earn up to twenty million in one night. So where was all the money going from his title fights? I thought back to what Brad had said before about boxers who ended up broke. Is that what was going on with Levi? Was he being ripped off by Vinnie or someone else who wanted a piece of him?

Levi, dressed in a faded towelling dressing gown, tried to sit up. He had a patch over his left eye, and the other eye was watery and slightly closed as if he were having trouble opening it.

‘There’s no need to sit up if you’re uncomfortable, Levi. I just need to ask you a few quick questions.’

Levi repositioned an untouched tray of cooked breakfast to the other side of the bed and struggled to a sitting position anyway, leaning his head back against the headboard. The swelling and bruising from the fight the night before was more pronounced now and his face was a kaleidoscope of reds and purples.

‘Sure, no problem,’ Levi said.

‘How’s the eye?’

He sighed. ‘Not too bad.’ He pointed to the patch. ‘I had laser surgery last night to repair the torn retina. The doctor said it went well, but I have to wait a few months until it heals before I can train again.’ He fidgeted with the belt on his robe.

‘I’m really sorry to hear that. I expect you wanted to get in training as soon as possible so you could try and win back your belt.’

Levi shrugged. ‘It goes with the territory of being a boxer, I guess.’ He tried to make light of the situation, but I could hear emotion filtering through his voice. I couldn’t tell if it was anger or hurt, though.

‘What happened at the fight?’

‘Did you see it?’

‘No,’ I fibbed. I wanted to hear it first hand from Levi.

‘It was going well. I was winning on points. Then somehow, in the sixth round, Ricky got the better of me and caught me with a right hook. I went down in a daze. I could feel blood streaming from a gash above my eye, but I didn’t want the referee to stop the fight. I had a lot more in me to go.’

‘But he stopped the fight, anyway?’

Levi gave a slight nod. ‘He thought the cut was too bad for me to continue, and declared Ricky the winner.’ He glanced down at his hands, seemingly surprised that they’d curled into fists. He unclenched them and gazed out of the bedroom window.

Although technically that was what had happened, since Levi didn’t mention anything about the distraction from Carl Thomas shouting at him, I guessed he didn’t want me to know that snippet of information. Too late, though. I had it and I was going to use it.

‘So what about the guy who was shouting at you from the side of the ring?’ I kept my tone deliberately light and friendly.

A quick flash of something in Levi’s good eye told me he knew exactly what I was talking about. I had to hand it to him, though, he disguised it well. ‘I thought you didn’t see the fight?’

‘My boss told me what happened. He was watching it on pay per view.’

Levi stayed silent for so long that I had to ask him again.

‘So, the guy?’ I prompted.

‘Sorry? I don’t know what you mean.’ Wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

I rolled my eyes. ‘Oh, come on, Levi. You know exactly what I’m talking about. What did Carl Thomas shout that distracted you?’

Levi paused for a moment, staring straight at me. I could see he was weighing up how much to tell me.

I folded my arms and waited for an answer. I could wait all day if need be. Well, until I got thrown out, anyway.

‘Oh! You mean
that
shouting? Yeah…yeah…I heard something.’ He fidgeted with his belt again and shook his head. ‘I didn’t hear what the guy was saying, though. Some of the fans can get a bit rowdy at the fights, you know.’ He let out a nervous laugh. ‘I don’t know who he was, though.’ His strong features seemed to droop before my eyes, making him look like he’d aged ten years in a few seconds. ‘Carl Thomas, you say? I’ve never heard of any Carl Thomas.’

‘Well, whatever he said distracted you from the fight. What was it?’

‘I told you, I don’t know. I couldn’t hear what he was saying over the noise of the crowd.’

I thought back to the scene I’d witnessed from the fight. There was no question that when Carl Thomas was shouting, Levi looked scared. Dead scared, in fact. Either Levi knew what Carl was shouting or he recognized him from somewhere.

Levi rubbed his forehead. ‘Look, why are you here? I haven’t even made a claim on my medical insurance yet.’

‘It’s just routine,’ I said, thinking back to Brad’s interest in this. It wasn’t routine in the slightest to carry out an investigation into a claim that hadn’t even been made yet, but Brad was the boss, and what he wanted, he got. Well, within reason.

‘Can we do this another time? I’ve got a monster headache coming on.’ The forehead rubbing got more pronounced.

OK, Levi, we can play it your way, but don’t think I’m not going to find out why you just lied to me.

 
‘Sure.’ I smiled and stood up, pulling a form and a pen from my rucksack. ‘I need you to sign this authorization request to get copies of your medical records. It’s standard practice for any insurance claims.’ I handed them to him.

He took the form, squinting at it. After giving it a cursory glance, he signed it and handed it back to me. 

‘Get well soon.’ I headed back downstairs with more questions buzzing around in my brain than answers. Still, it was early days yet, and I wasn’t giving up that easily.

I wandered silently up the hallway. At the end of the hall, a door to a large but dated kitchen was open. Levi’s trainer stood with his back to me, hands on hips, looking out the window into a huge garden. I coughed and he swung around. In the garden beyond, I could see Letitia on a metal bench on some decking by a pond, sipping a full glass of brandy and staring at the ground with blank eyes.

‘So, you’re Levi’s trainer?’ I asked.

He nodded.

I held out my hand to shake his. ‘Nice to meet you properly. I’m Amber.’

‘Terry. Likewise.’ He shook my hand with a firm grasp. ‘You want coffee?’

‘That would be great, thanks.’ I watched his back as he fumbled around in cupboards, heaping coffee into mugs and filling the kettle.

‘How do you think Levi’s doing?’ I asked.

BOOK: Be Careful What You Wish For
6.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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