Screams in the Dark (13 page)

‘Yeah,’ Rosie said. ‘My money’s on the quayside flats. You can just disappear in there and nobody knows what you’re up to. A lot of the hookers work out of there.’

*

Rosie’s hunch was right. There were two cars in front of the Carlton, and both turned into the car park on the River Clyde. They watched as he parked close to the front entrance.

‘I’m going to see if I can nip in along with him,’ Matt said, unbuckling his seatbelt. ‘See if I can see what flat he goes into.’

‘That’s dodgy, Matt. He might be suspicious.’

‘No he won’t,’ Matt said. ‘People always forget their keys and get through the main entrance. I’m going to wing it.’

‘Be careful.’

Rosie felt it was a little reckless, but she didn’t stop him. She watched as Matt went up to the front door just a second or two behind their man. Now that she had a full view of him, she knew from the picture Christy had sent her that this was definitely Milosh – or whoever he was. She saw him glance at Matt, his face without expression, as Matt seemed to be telling him he’d forgotten his key. They went in together. Rosie waited, her heart in her mouth. She breathed a sigh of relief as Matt came out of the front door and headed towards the car.

‘Got him,’ he said, clenching his fist as though he’d scored a goal. ‘Second floor, number five. I went up to the second floor along with him and the flat was just as you go into the main hall, So I carried on up the stairs until the next floor.’ He smiled at Rosie. ‘So now we know where he lives.’

‘Well done, Matt. What did he seem like when you were trying to get in?’

‘Hard-looking bastard,’ Matt said. ‘Pale, but kind of well built. Looks quite tough. I’d put him at around about forty-something.’

‘I wonder if he’s really who he says he is.’

‘C’mon I’m starving, Rosie. Fancy a curry?’

‘No thanks, Matt,’ she said, looking at her watch. ‘I’ve got to be somewhere.’

‘Knocked back again,’ he shook his head. ‘One of these days you’ll take up my offer and I’ll not turn up.’

‘Sure,’ Rosie laughed. ‘Can you just drop me in the city centre.

CHAPTER 13

Rosie was wishing she hadn’t arranged to meet TJ for a quick drink on the way home. She’d expected him to suggest they have dinner, but he told her he’d arranged to meet Gerry and Kat for a practice session to go over some numbers they’d been working on. She was already smouldering with resentment by the time TJ came through the door, his sax case over his shoulder. A smile spread across his face when he saw her.

‘Hey Rosie,’ he bent down and kissed her on the lips. ‘You all right darlin’?’

‘Yeah. Long day. Staking a place out since ten this morning. Gets really tedious.’

‘Ah, you love it, Gilmour,’ TJ teased her. ‘All that sneaking around.’ He ordered a beer when the waitress appeared at the table, then sat back stretching out his long legs.

Rosie had hardly touched her wine. She felt awkward. Sitting anywhere with TJ had always been the most natural thing in the world, but right now she had no
conversation, because the only thing that was burning her up she couldn’t talk about.

‘What’s up, Rosie?’ TJ’s eyes scanned her face, as he leaned across and ran his hand over her hair.

‘Nothing,’ Rosie lied, but she knew she wasn’t good at it. She puffed. ‘Just tired, TJ. This story. I think it’s going to be a tough one to crack.’

‘Want to tell me about it?’

Rosie told him everything over the last few days, and the latest information that had come from Christy.

He lit a cigarette and blew out a trail of smoke.

‘Bit of intrigue there all right, Rosie.’ He gave her a warning look. ‘Of course I know you won’t listen to me, you never do, but I’ll tell you this, Rosie. You go digging too deeply into these people – this dodgy Bosnian and the likes of Al Howie, then it’s just going to get crazy. You know that. It might be
your
lungs they’re pulling out.’

‘I know, I know.’ Rosie gave a bored sigh. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear – even if he was right.

‘Yeah, you know, Rosie, but you keep on doing it.’ He shook his head, half smiling. ‘Christ. You’d think after that stuff in Spain and Morocco last year, you’d be glad to have survived. You know, you might not actually have nine lives. You don’t need to do all this crap, Rosie. I mean, you’re just back from Kosovo. Give yourself a break, woman.’

Rosie sipped her wine and looked at the table. ‘I can’t, TJ.’ She looked at him. ‘What can I tell you?’ She shrugged. ‘It’s what I do. I can’t walk away from things like this.’

TJ smiled and touched her face.

‘Same old Gilmour. You’ll never change.’

‘Anyway, enough about me,’ Rosie said changing the subject. ‘What you been up to?’

‘Nothing. Just chilling. I don’t live on the edge like you, Rosie.’ He gave her a sideways glance.

Rosie was quiet, but she was simmering inside. They sat in silence, and she was aware TJ was watching her.

‘Okay. What’s up, Rosie?’ He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray and leaned forward.

Rosie examined her fingernails, knowing he wouldn’t let it go.

‘Look at me, Rosie.’

‘TJ, I …’ She looked at him, then away. ‘Last night, after I saw the guy at the Refugee Council, I called you.’

‘Yeah, I got a missed call from you. I was calling your mobile all night, but you didn’t answer. Didn’t you get my message?’

Rosie nodded and took a deep breath. ‘Well, I was in town and when I didn’t get you on the phone I was going to pop round and see if you fancied going out for dinner. Surprise you. So I drove towards your flat.’ She paused, feeling her face flushed. ‘And … Well, er … and then I saw Kat coming out of the building.’ She swallowed and waited, her heart racing.

TJ said nothing. He looked through her and they sat in heavy silence.

‘And?’ Finally he spoke, raising his eyebrows.

Rosie said nothing. She squirmed a little in her seat.

‘Well, I … I just wondered. I mean … I wondered …’

TJ shot her a look that was a mixture of disappointment, hurt and anger.

‘Yeah, Rosie, I know. You just wondered. The way you’ve been wondering ever since you clapped eyes on Kat.’ He shook his head. ‘I know what you wondered, Rosie, and you’re wrong. Okay? Understand that and forget about it.’

‘But you didn’t say she was at your house. That’s all. I was surprised to see her.’

‘Rosie, she was at my house, and we were going over some songs. We are friends. You know that, for Christ’s sake. We worked together in New York and we became friends.’

‘Friends?’ Rosie looked at him. ‘Is that all?’

TJ shook his head and sighed. ‘Aw, Rosie. Don’t do this, sweetheart.’ He looked at her. ‘Don’t do this to yourself, and don’t do this to me.’ He turned away.

Rosie wanted to speak, but her throat was tight. She looked at the floor.

‘I was just asking,’ she said eventually.

‘You can’t know everything about everybody, Rosie. You can’t allow yourself to be consumed with stuff like that. I don’t ask you about every friend in your life. You spend more time with guys than I do with women. Do I get paranoid?’

‘I don’t know. Do you?’

He shrugged. ‘I can’t run your life for you, Rosie. Apart from anything else you wouldn’t let me. You’re your own woman. You only let me so far into your life. Always have.’

Again, the silence.

‘You went away, TJ.’ The words were out before she could stop herself.

‘Christ! I pleaded with you to come with me.’ He snapped back, his hands held out. ‘I waited for you.’

‘Well. If I could have phoned you I would, but I was in the bloody hospital with my face wasted.’ Tears sprang to her eyes. She got up. ‘Look, TJ, I’m sorry. I think I should go. I’m saying all the wrong things.’

‘Wait, Rosie.’

‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘I have to go.’ She lifted her bag and left, the image of his hurt look making the tears come as she rushed out of the door and hailed a taxi.

*

‘Well played, Rosie,’ she said aloud to herself as she slung her bag on the sofa when she got into her house. ‘The one good thing to happen to you in your life, and you screw it up.’ She was still berating herself as she poured a glass of red wine and went out onto the balcony. She took a long gulp and swallowed, then let out a long sigh, suddenly reflecting on that first moment when TJ had turned up.

Rosie had just held the hand of her father as he died in hospital, and was sat in a cafe where she always seemed to end up. She felt like the loneliest person in the world. Then the phone call. TJ was back. There were no questions or explanations on the phone – he just asked, where are you? She told him to come to her flat.

When he’d turned up on the doorstep, Rosie took one look at him and they fell into each other’s arms. He was so sorry, he told her. But he’d been too hurt to get in
contact because by her not turning up at the airport, he knew they could never make it together. He was close to tears when she told him what had happened to her. They would never allow anything to come between them again, they promised each other.

And so it had been for the past six months, not moving in together – Rosie always resisting it, because she needed some space and believed that deep down TJ needed his own space too. But it had been just about perfect. Then came Kosovo and Rosie volunteered to go. She knew it meant being away for at least two months, but she wanted to be there.

When she returned, she felt worse than ever before. She hadn’t been prepared for the level of human suffering she witnessed when she got there. Back home, there had been nightmares, and when she’d woken up crying, TJ had been there to hold her. They’d spent great weekends together getting drunk, having a laugh and lots of sex. Everything was fine until last week at the Blue Note when this redhead walked onto the stage. Rosie knew that this was
her
problem, not TJ’s, and that even if they had been lovers in New York, she wasn’t there, so she had no rights. They weren’t together. She’d had a bit of a fling in Kosovo with a doctor anyway, so who was she to judge? But she did, and that was always Rosie’s problem. She told herself she should try to find some place in her head where she could deal with it, or she should walk away. She was going to be up to her eyes in the next few weeks, and every time she’d have to cancel dinner she would be paranoid he was with Kat.
Take it or leave it, she berated herself. She went into the house and ran a bath, soaking for a while, planning how to end it. She cried.

Sitting on the sofa watching some stupid old movie she was on the verge of tears again, when she heard the door buzz and got up to answer it.

‘It’s me, Rosie,’ TJ said.

Rosie pressed the buzzer to let him in. She caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror, eyes puffy and face red. She wrapped the robe around her and waited until he knocked on the door. When she opened it, he stood there with that way of looking at her that completely disarmed her.

‘I’m sorry, Rosie. Truce?’ He produced a bottle of red wine and a takeaway from behind his back.

Rosie shook her head and smiled, choking the tears back.

‘Look at the state of me.’ She opened the door and stepped back as he came in.

He walked behind her into the kitchen and put the takeaway on the worktop.

Then they stood looking at each other.

‘I’m sorry too.’ Rosie said.

He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. Then he kissed her neck and cheek, easing the robe back a little to kiss her shoulder. TJ let her go and took her face in his hands, kissing her passionately on the lips. Rosie could feel her legs weak as he opened her robe and ran his hands across her breasts.

‘I love you, Rosie,’ he whispered. ‘Please believe me.
I never stopped loving you.’ He put his arms around her lifting her up, pushing her against the wall. ‘I love you.’

*

In the morning, Rosie was up and showered while TJ lay sleeping in her bed. She watched him as she got dressed, promising herself that from now on things would change.

She didn’t even know herself how much she wanted from the relationship. They were friends first before they were anything else. All she knew was the gut-wrenching feeling that had washed over her last year when she suddenly realised he could be gone forever, and the torment she’d been in since she saw Kat outside his flat. She’d told TJ all of this last night while they ate the takeaway a couple of hours after he’d arrived. He pointed out that it was she who had said no when he asked her to move in with him a few months ago. She wanted it both ways, he told her, even though she knew it was unreasonable. That was her style. He accepted her the way she was.

Her mobile rang.

‘I don’t suppose that will be for me,’ TJ said sleepily.

‘Don’t think so,’ Rosie said, going over to the bed and running her hand across his head. She put the phone to her ear as she walked out of the bedroom.

‘Hey, Mickey. How the devil are you?’ It was her old friend Mickey Kavanagh, the ex-cop private eye she’d called for help the other night.

‘I’m good, Rosie, but I’ll tell you this, pal. You don’t half get mixed up with some dodgy characters.’

‘All part of the fun, Mickey.’

‘Aye right. You’ll not have much fun if you cross this particular bastard – this Milosh Subacic, as you called him.’

‘Yeah?’ Rosie was impressed. She’d only given him the brief information after Jan had told her the name.

‘Oh, yeah,’ Mickey said. ‘Listen, Rosie. I spent some time on this yesterday, talked to a couple of mates in London about this guy. So I’ve got a few things to tell you. Best we meet for a drink or something later?’

‘Sure, Mick. I can’t wait.’

‘Great. One thing though, Rosie. This guy is not who he says he is. His name’s not Milosh Subacic.’

‘Really? Come on, spill it. I’m dying here, Mickey.’

‘Okay, I’ll tell you one thing. He’s a Serb. Former army officer. As bad a bastard as they come.’

‘Christ! What time are you free for a meet?’

‘Not till early evening. I’m waiting for some more intelligence to come up on him today. You can buy me a bowl of pasta later.’