Streetwise (6 page)

Terry’s eyes wildly searched the room, behind, in front, to the sides, his gaze probing the crowd. His heart started to beat faster. He jumped up, knowing she was there somewhere. As he continued to look, to frantically scan the club, his hands curled in frustration. A red flush of anger rose to his cheeks. Where was the bitch? Where the fuck was she?

‘Lizzie!’ he yelled out.

Gradually, he became aware that he actually was the centre of attention now. Heads were turning to stare, the focus on him rather than the dancing girls. A sea of faces, frowning, curious, amused, swam in front of him. His legs suddenly buckled and he slumped down into the chair. In front of him was Delaney’s Scotch, still untouched. He poured the whisky into his own glass and knocked the whole lot back in one.

The black Mazda MX-5 was parked round the corner from Beast and away from any direct light from the streetlamps. Danny Street laid out the coke across the hand-sized mirror, using a credit card to shift the powder into neat straight lines.

‘Keep an eye out, babe,’ he said.

Silver gave a cursory look over her shoulder. ‘No one’s gonna see. It’s pissing down.’

‘Just do as you’re told, huh? You think the filth cares about a bit of rain? Those bastards are out to get me. They’ve been hanging round the club for weeks, and around the house. Everywhere I go, I’ve got a bleedin’ shadow.’

‘The street’s empty. There’s no one here but us.’

Danny leaned over, snorted a couple of lines and waited for them to take effect. He screwed up his eyes and gazed out through the windscreen. ‘Just ’cause you can’t see ’em, don’t mean they ain’t there.’

Silver took the tray off him and picked up the straw. ‘They won’t ever get you, hun. You’re too smart for the filth.’ She inhaled the coke and laughed out loud. ‘Hey, Danny,’ she said, ‘you ever killed anyone? Bet you have, bet you’ve killed loads. What does it feel like? Does it feel good?’ She leaned her head back against the seat and sighed. ‘Yeah, I bet it feels good.’

Danny smiled, but said nothing.

Silver turned to him, her eyes gleaming. ‘Tell me how many? How did you do it?’

But Danny wouldn’t be drawn. He was high as a kite, but still knew that no woman could be trusted. One minute they’d be sucking your cock, the next they’d be stabbing you in the back with a kitchen knife. ‘Your old man must have topped a few in his time.’

‘My old man’s a fuckin’ dickhead.’

‘Well, your fuckin’ dickhead of a father wants to see me six foot under.’

‘Sleeping with the fishes,’ she said. ‘Or propping up the nearest motorway. He hates any bastard who screws his daughter.’

‘That’s ’cause he wants you for himself.’

Silver gave a childlike giggle. ‘Everybody wants me, baby. I’m the best. I’m the fuckin’ best in the whole wide world.’

‘Yeah, well I know one old geezer who’s gagging for it. You ready?’ Danny took the empty tray off her and shoved it in the glove compartment. ‘Come on, he’ll be waiting for us.’

The two of them walked around the corner to the gallery. It was dark, after nine, and the place was locked up, but they could see a light in the back. Danny pressed the bell beside the door and then pressed his face against the glass. Silver wrapped her arms around her chest and hopped from one foot to the other.

‘Is he there, babe?’

‘Course he’s there,’ Danny said. ‘Where the fuck else would he be?’

It was only a few seconds more before the tall shadowy figure of Morton Carlisle glided through the shop and slid back the bolts. ‘You’re late,’ he hissed softly as he ushered them inside. ‘The back. Go through to the back. And mind the cabinets!’

‘Well, if you’d put the bleedin’ light on…’

But Carlisle was the cautious sort. You never knew who might be walking past and he didn’t want Danny Street to be recognised. He glanced quickly along the street, left and right, before shutting the door and locking it behind them. ‘The back,’ he urged again. ‘Go straight through.’

As Danny reached the door to the basement, he felt his pulse quicken. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Silver. ‘You know what they used to do down there, babe?’

‘What?’

‘It’s where they embalmed the bodies when this place was an undertaker’s.’

‘How do you know that?’

Danny looked at Carlisle. ‘It’s true, ain’t it, Morton? This place used to be a funeral joint.’

‘I believe so.’

‘See,’ Danny said. His mouth slid into a smile. ‘I saw it done once. I saw a body being embalmed.’

Silver stared back at him, her expression sceptical. ‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah, straight up. It was a girl, a blonde, a bit older than you. Fact, she looked a bit like you too. I watched her blood being drained, and the fluid being sucked from her organs.’ He felt a stirring in his groin and his smile widened. ‘It was very educational.’

‘The office,’ said Carlisle, his voice sounding strained as he tried to edge them forward. ‘Over there, to the right.’

Danny gave one last lingering look at the door before walking towards the room where the light was coming from. The office was small and cluttered with a desk, a couple of filing cabinets, two chairs and a heap of cardboard boxes. Danny sat in one of the chairs while Silver hovered behind him.

Morton Carlisle walked around the desk and sat down too. He looked at Danny. ‘So, have you got it?’

‘Of course.’ Danny put a hand in his inside jacket pocket, pulled out a wad of notes and threw them on to the top of the desk. ‘Two k,’ he said. ‘As we agreed.’

Carlisle snatched up the notes, opened a drawer and dropped the money inside. ‘Good.’

‘Ain’t you gonna count it?’ Silver asked.

Carlisle gave her a weary smile. ‘Mutual trust, my dear. It’s the only way to do business.’ He transferred his gaze to Danny. ‘No problems, then?’

‘None at all. The tosser paid up without a murmur. We could probably go back for seconds.’

‘No seconds,’ Carlisle said sharply. ‘We agreed, right? One hit and that’s it. Any more and they’ll start to panic, think that it’s never going to end. And that’s when they’ll throw caution to the wind and end up going to the law.’ He put his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. ‘We don’t need the police sniffing round, do we? It would hardly be advantageous for either of us.’

‘Whatever,’ Danny said. ‘Don’t bother me either way. So, you got someone else lined up?’

Morton Carlisle pulled a large blue ledger towards him, flicked the book open and ran a finger down the page. ‘There are several possibilities, but… Yes, I think this could be our man.’ He glanced up at Danny. ‘Squires. Jeremy Squires. He’s forty-six, a businessman – something tedious to do with computers – but he’s also a local councillor with ambitions to stand for Parliament. As such, any scandal would be decidedly unwelcome.’

‘Married?’ Danny asked.

‘Naturally. Although rumour has it that he has a penchant for the
younger
ladies.’ His gaze slid towards Silver where it settled for a few seconds. ‘He also has two teenage daughters.’

‘Nice,’ Danny said, gently rubbing his hands together. ‘Sounds like he’s our man. Loaded, I take it?’

‘Apparently so.’

‘Best give us the details then.’

Morton Carlisle gave a nod of his head before writing out the name and address on a notepad. He ripped the sheet off and passed it to Danny. ‘Let me know when it’s done. How were you thinking of —’

‘You let me worry about that,’ Danny said, rising to his feet. ‘Let’s just stick to what we’re good at, eh? I’ll be in touch.’ He took hold of Silver’s elbow. ‘Come on, babe. Time to go.’

‘Hold on.’ Carlisle sat back, frowning. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ His eyes darted towards Silver. ‘We have a deal, remember?’

‘Oh,
that
,’ Danny said, smirking. He gave Silver a small push. ‘Go on, hun. Go and be nice to Mr Carlisle.’

Silver obediently walked around the desk until she was standing right beside his chair. She stood for a moment gazing down at him, before slowly undoing first the belt and then the buttons on her raincoat. She took her time, occasionally pausing to sweep back her long fair hair. An enigmatic smile played around her mouth, but her eyes were cold and empty.

Carlisle’s tongue darted out like a snake, briefly wetting his lips before disappearing back inside. His breathing grew audible and his hands slid down into his lap.

Silver let the coat slip from her shoulders on to the floor. It made a light swishing sound like an indoor breeze. Underneath, she was naked, her skin as smooth and pale as porcelain. All she was wearing now were a pair of red stilettos. She put her left hand on her hip and stood very still as if she was posing for a magazine picture.

Carlisle stared hard at her full breasts and tiny waist before his gaze gradually descended to her pussy, her thighs, her ankles and feet. Then his eyes quickly swept up again to focus on the small brown nipples of her breasts. Almost immediately, he reached out a hand, but Silver stepped smartly out of reach.

She laughed, leaning forward to wag a finger in his face. ‘Uh-huh, you know the rules, babe. You can look – you can look as much as you like – but you can never ever touch…’

From her bed, Ava gazed across at the thin grey light sliding through the gap in the curtains. Morning or afternoon? At this time of year it was impossible to tell. She reached out, scrabbling for her watch on the table, but couldn’t find it. Now she was awake she knew that she would have to get up, but still she lingered for a few moments, enjoying the warmth and snugness of the duvet.

While she delayed the inevitable, she thought back over the previous day. In the afternoon, Chris had informed her that he had to go to Manchester and they’d set off within the hour. She’d enjoyed the drive up the motorway, getting some speed out of the Mercedes for once instead of being stuck in a perpetual traffic jam. He had spent most of the journey on the phone, making calls, sending texts or checking out the Facebook page for Belles.

Once in Manchester, she’d dropped him off in the city centre at a pub called the Crown and then found somewhere to park before going to get a burger. There had been some nice-looking restaurants around the area, but she hadn’t fancied eating in them on her own. The burger place was busy and anonymous, easy to blend into. Surrounded by northern accents, she’d felt like a stranger, but not an unwelcome one. Natural curiosity had made her wonder what Chris’s business was up there, but she hadn’t asked and he hadn’t said. It was probably for the best. What she didn’t know, she couldn’t tell.

It had been the early hours of the morning before they’d got back to London. He’d been chattier on the return journey and the time had passed quickly. She guessed that the meeting, whatever it had been about, had gone well. She’d also had the feeling that Chris had wanted to say something to her, but hadn’t quite been able to find the words. He’d begin, glance at her, and then change his mind.

Ava stretched out her arms and yawned. It was over a week now since she’d started the job and she had managed to get through it without incurring any damage, major or minor, to the precious Merc. The hours, as predicted, varied widely, but this didn’t bother her. It wasn’t as if she had a rich social life to fit in around her work. She hadn’t had a date since splitting up with Alec – not that she’d wanted one – and the recent highlight of her social calendar had been a drink with her dad in the Fox.

Eventually, with reluctance, Ava pulled back the covers and slipped into her dressing gown. As she went through to the living room, she rubbed at her eyes with the heels of her hands. She peered at the clock on the wall: twenty past eleven. Tash, who was sitting at the table, attaching pink feathers to one of her latest creations, looked up and grinned.

‘So, you dirty stop-out, where did you get to last night? It must have been one hell of a party.’

‘Manchester,’ Ava said.

‘Wow. That’s different. Was it good?’

‘Not exactly. I had to drive Chris Street up there.’ Ava walked on through to the kitchen where she switched the kettle on. She felt tired and sluggish, in need of a caffeine boost to wake her up properly. Grabbing a mug from the draining board, she shovelled in two teaspoons of coffee. ‘You want one?’ she called back over her shoulder.

Tash joined her in the kitchen, leaning against the door jamb. ‘Yeah, go on then. So what’s so important you had to go all the way to Manchester?’

‘I didn’t ask.’

‘Mm, probably wise. So how’s it going? You think he’s going to keep you on?’

Ava poured hot water into the mugs and got the milk out of the fridge. ‘God, I hope so. I can’t afford to lose this job. I’ve done the trial week and he hasn’t said anything one way or the other. I don’t want to ask in case… well, if it is bad news I’d rather not hear it.’

‘It won’t be,’ Tash said, forever the optimist. She paused and then added, ‘Are you doing anything this afternoon?’

‘No, nothing planned, although the sofa’s looking pretty attractive right now. I’ll probably just crash, have a lazy day.’

‘Do you fancy coming to an exhibition with me? It’s at that Beast place so it’s not far to go. It’s from three to five and there are cocktails too.’

Ava pulled a face, remembering her last experience at the gallery. ‘Not really. Since when did you have an interest in stuffed animals?’

‘I don’t, but I’ve always reckoned it’s a sin to turn down the offer of free drinks. Besides, there’ll be a lot of rich, fashionable people there. I might be able to make some contacts, do a bit of social networking. Lydia gave me a ticket. It’s a plus one but I don’t have anyone to go with. Hannah’s at work and I don’t really want to go on my own.’

‘Who’s Lydia?’

‘She works there, at Beast. Just sales and that. She comes into the Fox sometimes. That’s how I got to know her.’

‘Well, you won’t be on your own then.’

‘But she’ll be working, won’t she? She won’t have time to talk to me.’ Tash flashed one of her brightest smiles. ‘Oh, come on,’ she wheedled. ‘
Please.
It’s only for a couple of hours and you never know, it might even be fun.’

‘You reckon?’

Tash gave a sigh. ‘Ava Gold,’ she said. ‘You’re in danger of becoming seriously boring.’

‘Good. I like boring. I
love
boring. Is there anything wrong with wanting a nice quiet life?’

‘And how old are you exactly?’

Ava blew on the top of her coffee and took a couple of quick sips. ‘Old enough to know that there are better ways of spending an afternoon than staring at a stuffed weasel.’

But Tash wasn’t giving up without a fight. ‘You’re coming with me,’ she said. ‘Even if I have to drag you there.’