Peepshow (19 page)

‘Really?’

‘Have you ever been with two guys at once?’ asked Jason.

‘Nooo . . .’ I said in a tone that suggested I’d thought about it.

‘It’s really good.’ Jason bounced lightly on the mattress and nodded his head like a dashboard dog. ‘The girl gets all the attention.’

I tilted my head to the side. ‘So do you two, like, get it on as well?’

‘No!’ said Jason.

‘God no,’ said Bob.

‘Christ.’

They coughed. Nervous laughter.

‘You don’t think two guys and one girl is a bit, well, homoerotic?’ I asked. ‘I mean, it could be said that the guys just need the girl there to make it acceptable for them to be naked and sexual together.’

‘No . . . no nothing like that,’ said Jason.

‘Why don’t you find out for yourself?’ Bob patted his lap and I sat on it thinking, come on Alex, got enough evidence yet?

Bob nuzzled his face in my hair. ‘God you smell good.’

‘So you promise I’ll have a good time?’

‘I can guarantee it.’ Jason sprang off the bed and kneeled down in front of me. He rubbed his palms up and down my thighs and nipped at the fabric of my skirt with his teeth. He looked up at me and said, soulful y, ‘I know how to make you feel like a woman.’

‘Whoa, boy.’ I pushed his head away from my crotch.

‘I just have to go to the bathroom. When I come back I want you to be all ready for me, OK?’

Christ, this cheesy dialogue was coming a little too easy. Had I been watching too much porn? I locked the bathroom door behind me and leaned against it.

I’d always wondered about being with two guys at once but I refused to be the meat in a ‘Have you done any modelling/I want to make you feel like a woman’ sandwich. Where the hell was the cavalry? I’d done my bit.

I heard shoes drop to the floor and Bob and Jason laughing and talking. I had a pee and washed my hands thoroughly and slowly, brushed my hair, powdered my nose and put on more lipstick. Damn you, Alex.

Jason knocked on the door and sang out, ‘Simo-one, we’re ready and waiting.’ Fuck. I unlocked it, took a deep breath and walked back into the hotel room.

Bob and Jason sat on the bed, waiting expectantly.

Jason was completely starkers but Bob had left his socks on. Nice. Their suits had hidden a multitude of sins. Jason was too skinny, with chicken legs, and Bob had a layer of waxy fat all over his body, dark wiry hair standing out in sharp relief. Sometimes a naked male can be quite beautiful. This was not one of those times.

Both had erections and Jason’s moved around as if it was waving to me.

Bob patted the bedspread. ‘Have a seat, beautiful.’

I smiled. ‘I’ll just get another drink.’ I took a small screw-top bottle of chardonnay from the minibar and slammed down half, thinking, I can’t believe my life has come to this. I sat reluctantly between them, drinking straight from the bottle.

‘So,’ I said.

‘Relax.’ Bob took the bottle out of my hand and set it on the nightstand. He kissed up my arm, Gomez Addams style. Jason licked my neck and ran his hand up my thigh. My skin crawled, I was about to scream, I couldn’t take another second.

Bang! A huge crash, wood splintering.

We looked at the door but it was intact, the sound coming from the room next door. A muffled announcement: ‘Police!’ And then a gunshot.

Jason and Bob looked at each other, dicks going limp, and I leapt up and raced for the door. I slipped through the entrance to the room next door and saw Farquhar face down on the floor with his wrists handcuffed behind him. Alex had his knee in Farquhar’s back, reading him his rights, and four other plainclothes cops with IDs strung on their necks stood around him, guns drawn. Another handgun, a big one, lay on the bed.

A laptop computer and a video monitor were set up on the desk. I could see Bob and Jason scrabbling around for their clothes. A female cop with a blond ponytail saw me, reholstered her gun and started to push me out of the room.

‘I’m going to have to ask you to come with me, ma’am,’ she said.

Farquhar twisted around in his restraints, enraged.

‘You fucking dog, Christakos,’ he said. ‘You filthy maggot. You’re fucked.’

Alex hauled him to his feet and Farquhar saw me.

‘And you, you whore,’ he bellowed.

‘That’s enough.’ Alex and another cop pushed him out of the room and towards the elevators.

When Farquhar was hustled past I said, ‘Fucking amateur.’

Alex smiled at me.

I’d handed in the earrings and was giving a statement to the female cop, Detective McCullers, when Alex knocked on the interview room door.

‘Can I borrow her a sec?’

‘Sure,’ she smiled at him. He took me into the corridor and closed the interview room door.

‘Farquhar locked up?’ I asked.

‘Signed, sealed, delivered, baby.’ Alex’s eyes were shining. He was pumped up like he’d just been to an Anthony Robbins seminar. Busts must do that to a fellow.

‘We’re about to search his house and a self-storage facility he had in a false name. I wanted to thank you before I left. You did good tonight, got a real flair for the undercover stuff.’

‘What about my autopsy report?’

‘Haven’t had time.’ He held out his hands. ‘Might be able to get it by the debriefing tomorrow.’

‘What debriefing?’

‘Didn’t anyone tell you? Be here at seven pm.’

‘It’s really important I get the report, Alex.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’ He bent and kissed me on the cheek. A warm, tingling sensation. Not the white lightning of Mick but, hey, not bad.

‘See you tomorrow,’ he said.

When I finished my statement I called Aurora’s mobile from a phone booth in the lobby. She answered on the first ring.

‘Simone, thank god, I was so worried. What happened with Dick Farquhar? Where are you?’

I told her about the sting, and how Farquhar was safely locked away.

‘I’m at Betty’s,’ she said. ‘Please come over. Mick’s here. Don’t be mad but he told me everything. About your arrest, about that prick Sal kidnapping Chloe. Don’t worry. We’re going to help you get her back.’

Outside the police complex the street was deserted, no sign of Sal’s black car, no chance for me to explain to Sal what I’d been doing at the cop shop. A lone cab cruised past and I hailed it and told the driver to drop me on Chapel Street. From Chapel I ducked through the Safeway car park, down Greville Street, then followed back lanes until I slipped through the rear gate into Betty’s large back yard. Paranoid? You bet.

Mick sat on the back steps in jeans and a white singlet playing ‘Blue Moon’ on an acoustic guitar. The notes wafted eerily through the hot night air like in a David Lynch film.

I said, ‘The Road Goes on Forever.’

He stopped playing, ‘Robert Earl Keen.’

‘Jeez,’ I walked across the overgrown grass, ‘you’re good.’ I dropped my backpack on the ground and sat next to him.

‘How’d it go?’ Mick asked.

‘Great. Farquhar’s fucked. They caught him in the act, he shot at the cops and now they’re searching his house and a storage facility.’

‘Teach him not to mess with Simone Kirsch.’

‘Damn straight,’ I smiled.

‘Simone,’ he said, awkwardly, ‘I’m sorry about the other night, at the pub. I don’t know what happened, if it was stress from all the weird shit that’s been going on or maybe I’ve been doing too much coke. I should stick with beer and weed, chemicals fucking mess with your head. Anyway, I really like you. I didn’t want to push you away. I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t have to apologise,’ I said. ‘You’re gorgeous, you play guitar up on stage, and chicks are always going to throw themselves at you. Besides, we only just met. It’s not like we’re in a relationship or anything and my life’s too ridiculous to have a boyfriend at the moment. We’re just having fun, you know, casual sex, like our parents used to do in the seventies.’ God I was a good liar.

‘Casual sex, huh? I’d hate to see what would happen if we had serious sex.’

‘Me too. Let’s go find Aurora.’

Aurora was pacing inside the retro lounge room, wearing jeans and a midriff top. She looked wired and probably was after spending the night at the Red.

‘Simone.’ She hugged me, held my shoulders. ‘I can’t believe that scumbag Sal. I used to work with Chloe, she’s fantastic, a great girl. I’m going to help you get her back.’

She twisted the cap off a bottle of Jameson and poured us all a slug. I lit a tailor-made and gave one to Mick. It was great to be smoking again. We sat on the leopard-skin couch and Aurora took the chair.

‘Where’s Betty?’ I asked.

‘Asleep, final y.’ Now that Aurora wasn’t pacing she tapped her foot. ‘Had to shove a couple of sleeping pills down her throat though. Anyway, what about telling the police? I know Detective Duval, we could go directly to him.’

I shook my head. ‘It’ll get back to Sal. He’s got cops on his payroll. I don’t know how many.’

‘Fuck,’ she said. ‘OK, Mick said Sal will let her go if he has proof someone else killed Frank. You’ve been investigating, who do you think killed him?’

‘No idea. I told Sal it was Farquhar but I can’t prove it.’

Mick sat forward. ‘The jacks are searching Farquhar’s place tonight.’

‘They’ll find something to implicate him,’ Aurora said.

‘You reckon?’ I raised my eyebrows. It was a long shot.

‘The thing is,’ she continued, ‘even if you prove someone else killed Frank, what makes you think Sal will let her go, and let you live? If I were him I’d want to tie up any loose ends, and that’s you two.’

I hadn’t thought of that. Stupid.

‘He said he was an honourable man.’ It sounded lame and Aurora snorted.

‘We’ve got to find out where he’s keeping her,’ she said. ‘Simone’s been talking to Chloe on Sal’s mobile,’

Mick told her.

I nodded. ‘Chloe’s stashed somewhere with a heavy named Blue. She seems OK and I think Blue’s sweet on her. They watch videos and eat crap food. I tried to listen for clues but I couldn’t hear anything. The reception was good though, I don’t think they’re out bush.’

‘Where would Sal keep Chloe?’ Aurora stared intently at the fish in the tank, swimming around the sunken galleon. ‘Hang on a sec, what about Frank’s boat?’

‘Frank’s boat.’ I repeated. ‘Frank’s boat.’ Suddenly everything fell into place, ‘Oh my god, she’s been trying to tell me.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘When I talked to her on the phone she kept nattering on about the videos she’d been watching,
Titanic
,
Speed 2
,
Dead Calm
. They’ve all got boats in them. But how does Blue get videos and takeaway?’

‘Those big cruisers have dinghies with outboards,’ said Mick. ‘They’re probably anchored close to the marina and the guy locks her in and motors out.’

‘Where’s Frank’s boat moored?’ I asked. ‘And what’s its name?’

‘St Kilda marina,’ Aurora said, ‘but I don’t know what it’s called.’

‘Is there anyone who does?’

‘A few of the girls, I think.’

‘Call them up.’ I was getting manic, about to leap up and go down to the marina that second.

‘Darl, it’s nearly five am and you need some sleep.

We can’t do anything until morning anyway.’ She poured me another whisky. ‘Want some Vegemite toast?’

I nodded, she went into the kitchen and I lay down with my head on Mick’s lap. He stroked my hair and I closed my eyes, just to rest them for a second, and I was out for the count.

I woke up at ten in Mick’s bed, with all my clothes on. There was a turn-up for the books. Rain fell on the tin roof and although I knew I had to leap up and get to the marina I just wanted to stay for a few more seconds, arm around him, breathing him in.

He was naked, back to me, and I stroked his shoulder, tracing tattoos with my fingertips. The Medusa had snakes for hair, wings sprouting from her back and a whip in her hand. The tattoo was shinier than the others, the outline precise. I kissed his back. The skin was warm, hot almost. I slid my hand from his shoulder to his hips and down along the hipbone. I lightly stroked his cock.

Rock hard and velvet soft, all at the same time. A tingling started between my legs.

‘You awake?’ I whispered.

No reply. I pushed myself into the curve of his spine, cupped his ball s in my hand, then went back to his hard-on, moving my hand up and down until it grew bigger and started to throb. He had at least eight inches down there, and thick, too. I was no size queen but it was nice every once in a while, to feel so completely filled up. Mick rolled on his back, still pretending to be asleep. I couldn’t stand it anymore, enough of this hand job shit. I took off my clothes and climbed on top of him, rubbing the head of his penis on my clit. His eyes were still closed but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

Afterwards Mick kissed me. ‘You’re one hell of a fuck, girl.’

‘I try,’ I said, modestly.

‘How am I going to live without you when I move back up north?’

‘You’re moving?’

‘I’ve been here three months. That’s a long time for me to live anywhere, especially the city. I need wide open spaces, I miss my dog.’

‘Enough with the cowboy shit.’

‘It’s true,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you come with me?’

‘So you can lock me up in some hillbilly shack, cooking you grits and providing sex on demand?’

‘Yep.’

‘What about the band?’ I asked.

‘Guitarists are pretty thick on the ground around here,’ he said. ‘Can’t walk down the milk bar without tripping over about five of them.’

He wasn’t wrong. ‘Come on,’ I said, ‘let’s find this boat.’ Aurora was padding around the kitchen in a leopard-skin robe, making coffee. ‘I stayed in Betty’s room,’ she explained.

‘Still out for the count?’

‘Yeah, she’ll sleep for a couple of days at least, wake up not knowing where she is. Guess what? I rang Dakota. Boat’s called the “Midnight Lady”.’

‘Foxy name,’ I said.

After coffee and showers we squeezed into the cab of the Ute and Mick drove through the rain to St Kilda, windscreen wipers squeaking, nobody saying much.

Punt Road was grey and sodden. Water pooled in gutters and the stretch between Toorak and Commercial roads was a cluster of wet cars and red tail-lights. I checked the rearview mirror the whole way, hardly able to remember a time when I wasn’t watching my back.