Dead of Winter Tr (25 page)

‘Did she seem a little false and strained to you?’

‘Yes . . . they both did. There’s something not relaxed about them as a couple. What a weird world she lives in. She’s brought up by a man who thinks he’s God and
she’s married his junior. What kind of a life has she had?’

‘Frigging weird one if she didn’t even want to meet her family.’

‘Unless she doesn’t want to tell us about it.’

‘Out of loyalty to who?’

‘To her dad maybe. She says he strives for perfection all the time. He must have done the work on her face . . . who does that? Takes a knife to his daughter’s face to make her
prettier? Surely your kids are supposed to be perfect as they are?’

‘We don’t know he did the work.’

‘He’s bound to have done it.’

‘Do you think Martingale was secretive about her? I had no idea.’

‘Hard to tell, Sarge. We didn’t ask. Maybe he presumed we knew. It was no secret there was another child. Carmichael mentioned he knew there was a sister but he knew nothing else
about her. We just never saw any info on her, I suppose.’

‘We’ll have to talk to Martingale about the Bloodrunners soon. Now that the papers have got hold of it, everyone will know, including Carmichael.’

It was five o’clock and Carmichael was walking towards the Lansdown when his mobile rang.

‘Hello, Hart speaking.’

‘It’s Linda.’

‘Linda the “girl next door”? How’s business been?’

‘Times are hard . . . you can imagine.’ Carmichael smiled to herself. ‘Thought you might want to rescue me from Christmas hell. I have some information about Sonny for
you.’

‘Coffee or drink?’

‘Drink.’

‘Right answer. Meet you in an hour outside Liberty’s.’

‘Can we go to your place instead? I’ve had enough of crowds.’

‘Okay. I’m staying at the Lansdown Ambassador’s Suite. See you shortly.’

Thirty minutes later Nikki de Lange knocked on his door.

‘Hope you don’t mind?’ She walked into the room. ‘Can we have a drink in your room here? I don’t like crowds.’ She took off her coat and put it across the
back of the chair.

‘No problem.’ He opened the fridge for her to choose.

‘White wine will be great.’ She made herself comfortable by the coffee table.

He poured a large glass and handed it to her.

‘Wonderful, thank you.’ She smiled as she took it from him and took a slug. ‘This is a major outing for me. Don’t get out much.’

‘Apart from going to strange men’s houses and being paid for sex, you mean?’ He poured himself a glass of wine too and said a silent cheers.

‘One
person’s house.’ She smiled and looked away.

‘You said it was your second time.’

‘I lied.’

He smiled. ‘So your career as an escort hasn’t had the best of starts.’

‘I did get paid three hundred pounds.’

‘I gave you that.’ He grinned.

‘Yeah . . . but it still counts.’

He laughed. ‘I’m in credit, then.’ She looked up enquiringly. He shook his head, grinning. ‘Don’t worry. It’s not my style.’

‘Have you ever tried it?’

‘What . . . paying for sex?’ He nodded. ‘Yeah . . . when I was young and with the boys . . . got to admit to doing it but not sure what the outcome was – was too drunk.
Woke up with the condom still on so I guess we can be sure I didn’t catch anything.’ She laughed. He realized it was a long time since he had heard a woman laugh. ‘So you stay at
home most days and do what?’

‘Sell things on eBay.’

‘Entrepreneurial type, then.’

‘I try.’

‘You make enough to earn a living?’

‘On a good day.’

‘Have you always been self-employed?’

‘No. I was a nurse once, many years ago.’ Nikki smiled. She had concocted the story late the night before and as she said it out loud for the first time it had a clichéd feel
to it. But she knew that it was better to stay in the ‘almost truth’ zone than venture into completely unknown territory. If he wanted to know anything medical she could more than hold
her own. She was taught by her father. But she hoped she didn’t need to worry about that. She could see that she’d already begun to charm Mr Hart. ‘I married a doctor. We
couldn’t have kids. I just hung around at home waiting for him to come back every day, trying to please him. In the end he left me for another doctor. Said our lives were dull. I had to
agree. I didn’t want anything from him. I agreed to the split. I agreed to the fact that he had earned all of the money in our marriage. Of course I didn’t realize we’d been
living way beyond our means and there were more debts than anything else and they were all in my name. He moved to France with his new wife and here I am. What about you, Mr Hart?’

Carmichael sat down opposite her. ‘I’ve just arrived here in London. Been living out of a suitcase. I’ll be happy to put down some roots. I’m waiting to get a licence for
a new nightclub, takes a while. What did you want to tell me about Sonny?’

‘I saw the news. Sonny’s body being pulled out of the Thames.’ Carmichael didn’t comment. He drank his wine. ‘Was that your business with Sonny? Was it getting
girls for your club? I know that’s what he does,
did;
one of the girls who got me into escorting told me she used to date him.’

‘Your information?’

‘I haven’t really got any information. Just felt like seeing you, that’s all.’

He sat back to observe her. ‘Why?’

‘I wanted to say thanks.’

‘Thanks for what? You might have earned a lot more from Sonny.’

She shrugged and smiled. ‘Maybe but it didn’t suit me – escorting. I wanted to see you today because I need a job. I need a life. You’re new in town. You look like
you’re going places. I do have a lot to offer the right man. It’s just that no one sees my potential.’ He smiled. ‘It’s not funny . . . I thought maybe I could be of
use to you . . . I need a break. I need to get a job but I was never any good at cleaning floors or wiping kids’ noses. I’ve decided escort work’s not for me. I thought maybe . .
. you know . . . we could see how it goes?’

‘You don’t know me.’

‘And you don’t know me. That’s the fun of it. I’m sick of my life. We’ve all got our regrets. I want a fresh start.’

‘I repeat, you don’t know me.’

‘You’re right, but I think it’s better not to delve too deeply into people’s pasts. I think it’s better not to ask.’

Carmichael sat back in his chair and studied her then smiled. ‘I don’t have time for relationships at the moment, not personal.’

Nikki laughed nervously. ‘Really? Now that’s a surprise. Yeah . . . you’re right: you don’t know me from Adam.’ She came over to him, leant over and kissed him: a
soft kiss that closed his eyes and opened his heart valves; a feeling he hadn’t had in a long time: his heart responding to the beat of another’s. He slid his hands up over her hips as
she stood in front of him. He was drowning in her kisses. His hands went to her waist and she undid her wrap dress for him. He pressed his face against the silk camisole beneath her dress and
breathed in the scent of her warm skin. His hands slid up beneath the silk and cupped her breasts, warm, firm. It was a long time since he’d felt something so perfectly human. His fingers
circled her hard nipples then he stood and pressed the small of her back to him and kissed the curve of her neck. He went to take off her silk camisole but she wouldn’t let him. He got to his
feet and led her to the bed, then kissed her again and touched her with a slow soft touch. His fingers barely brushing her skin. He waited until her body took control, until it needed him badly,
then he rolled onto his back, pulled her to lie on top of him, facing the ceiling, and entered her. Neither spoke as she moved her body and he stayed hard inside her, touching her with
feather-light fingers. ‘Stay still,’ he whispered in her ear. ‘Don’t move. I’m not going anywhere, just enjoy.’ His hands held her body and his fingers applied a
gentle and increasing pressure between her thighs that sent shock waves through her body. He held her tight as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to let go. He stayed inside her as he rolled
them both onto their sides. He smelt the scent in her hair and closed his eyes, feeling the kind of exhaustion that he had longed for on so many nights in the last thirteen years.

She held onto his arms around her. Then she lifted his hand and placed it on her breast and held it there. He felt her heart beat beneath his hand. ‘The way you made love to me . . . you
knew what I needed.’

‘A fluke,’ he whispered into her ear.

She smiled. ‘Well it was a good one. How come you’re in this hotel bed with me? Can’t fathom you out. You’re Mr Tough guy . . . don’t mess with me . . . but inside
you’re . . . different.’

‘Don’t be fooled by me. I told you I don’t have time for personal. You’re not exactly the straightforward kind yourself. You’re obviously well educated.
You’re beautiful. You don’t have to be shy about your body. You feel like you’re lost.’

She pulled away from him and sat on the edge of the bed, her back to him. ‘Yes. I feel lost.’ She got up and went across to the chair where she’d put her clothes.

He lay on the bed and watched her get dressed. She picked up her coat from the chair. When she got to the door she looked back at him and lingered there with a smile.

‘Lovely to see you again.’

After she’d gone Carmichael lay back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. He felt overwhelmed by a feeling of loss. He had not made love to someone like that since
Louise. Why he had felt so much for a stranger, he didn’t know. He vowed to himself not to let it happen again.

As Nikki de Lange walked away from the room she felt in shock. She had hoped to get information from him that might say who he was but it hadn’t seemed to work out like
that. He probably knew more about her than she did him. Her body had betrayed her. Her heart had taken over. Never before had someone made love to her like that. Never before had she let go enough
to really experience it. There was something about him that was so familiar.

She took the lift down to the ground floor, crossed the lobby and walked along a busy Oxford Street crammed with Christmas shoppers. She gave up trying to hail a taxi and caught the Tube to
Hammersmith instead, then she walked the twenty minutes to the Mansfield hospital. She didn’t pass Ivy on reception; instead she walked around to the back of the building and through the
delivery bays, then left to the door to the private ward. There she punched in her code in the keypad and opened the door.

She walked to the end of the corridor and into the room at the end. Inside was a different world. It was her world. She hung her coat on the back of the door and reached for her uniform. She
took off her dress. Beneath her silk camisole a scar ran all the way down the centre of her chest between her breasts. She pulled on the short-sleeved blue cotton top. Then went across to her
dressing table by the bed and picked up a band to tie her hair up.

The locked-in boy lay there and listened to the noises in his room. He knew she would be coming soon. He could visualize the room. He knew where the hand basin was, where the door was, where his
Arsenal shirt was on the chair. He knew that on either side of his bed there were monitors that flashed and beeped and each one had a different sound as if they were talking to one another. He
recognized the door opening, the sucking sound as the air in the room passed over his body in its rush to escape the prison where he seemed to have been for ever. He tried to talk. He tried to say
that he was alive. No words came out. He wanted to scream out that he existed but then came the soothing sound of her voice. She sang to him as she washed his body and he loved the feel of her
gentle hands on him. She talked to him about her life. Always the same story:

Justin was agitated. He tried to steer his mind away from Nikki; it only made him feel more insecure. Right now he couldn’t afford to doubt himself. Sitting behind his desk, he opened his
laptop and went through his emails. He had several messages from dating sites to respond to. He scanned through the women who had responded to his advances and chose one. She had written:
Really
love your profile. Thanks for emailing me your pix. I understand about the privacy thing. Anyway, you’re gorgeous!!!! Love to meet.

He typed out a reply:

You sound great fun. Let’s meet tonight.

Carmichael came round from his doze on the bed to hear his Skype alert buzzing. Micky was trying to get hold of him. He reached beneath the bed and pulled out his laptop.
Micky’s face filled a small square on the screen. Carmichael enlarged it. Micky had a newspaper in his hands.

‘You seen this?’ Micky turned the paper round so that Carmichael could see the headline.

It was seven p.m., Carmichael waited outside the Whittington pathology department and watched Harding emerge. He kicked his bike onto its stand. Harding looked up as she walked
towards her car and saw Carmichael. She fished into her bag for her keys, then held them in her hand. Carmichael walked towards her. ‘You telling me you had no idea thirteen years ago that
they were Bloodrunners?’ She flicked the button on her fob, the car chirruped into life. She felt a flutter of panic but did her best not to show it.