Take Two (A psychological thriller) (16 page)

Richards offered his hand. ‘Good to meet you, Seb. I gather you’re a regular at the club, I’ll pop over and see you next time you’re in.’

‘Of course,’ said Seb. ‘Warwick Richards. That Warwick Richards.’

‘You know each other?’ asked Carolyn.

‘I sometimes drink at Warwick’s club,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think we’ve ever actually met.’

‘I tend to give VIPs the privacy they deserve,’ said Richards. ‘The last thing you want is the staff bothering you when you’re out for a quiet drink.’

‘Staff?’ said Carolyn.

Richards grinned. ‘Well, owner actually,’ he said. He shook hands with Seb then sat down next to Carolyn.  He looked into her eyes as he smiled at her. He had wonderfully blue eyes, she realised. ‘I just wanted to reassure you that I’m not a stalker and if you don’t want to go through with the lunch, that’s fine. I’m happy enough to help the charity.’

‘You don’t look at all like a stalker,’ said Carolyn. A waiter poured champagne into a glass for Richards  and he nodded his thanks. ‘What’s the club you mentioned?’ asked Carolyn.

‘It’s in Leicester Square. Seb’s a regular, I’m told. You should drop by some time. I’ll have your name put on the VIP list, just walk right in. We’ve a very discreet VIP area and an amazing roof terrace.’

‘Sounds like fun.’

‘It is. We take good care of our customers, especially VIPs like you. You can let your hair down without worrying that someone’s going to start taking a picture on their phone.’ He nodded over at Seb who had moved to the next table and was deep in conversation with a young actor from Coronation Street. ‘That’s why Seb likes it. No one cares who he’s sipping champagne with, if you get my drift.’ He sipped his drink. ‘So what about you, Carolyn? What do you do for fun?’

Carolyn sighed. ‘Ah, yes, I remember fun,’ she said. ‘Most days we’re in the studios by eight which means I’m up at six so there aren’t many late nights.’

Richards chuckled. ‘Six? That’s about when we’re closing up,’ he said.  He put down his glass.  ‘Anyway, I won’t take up any more of your time,’ he said. ‘But I would love to take you up on the lunch.’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Look, if you’re a fan of the show, why not come to the studio one day next week?  Say, Friday? I know we’re in the studio all day Friday. I can show you around and the food in the canteen is pretty good.’ She held up her wine glass.  ‘No wine, unfortunately.’

‘That sounds like a plan,’ said Richards. ‘And wine isn’t a problem, I’ll be driving.’

 ‘What sort of car do you have, I’ll leave the details with security.’

‘A Porsche,’ said Richards.

‘That’s funny, I wouldn’t have you down as a Porsche man.’

‘It’s a Cayenne,’ said Richards.  ‘I like a bit of room when I drive.’ He stood up and flashed her another beaming smile. ‘So I’ll see you on Friday, Miss Castle.’

‘Carolyn, please,’ she said. ‘And I’ll look forward to it. Do you have a card?’

‘Sure.’  Richards took out his wallet and gave her a business card before he headed back to his table. 

‘Wow,’ said the girl singer. ‘He is hot.’

‘Do you think so?’ asked Carolyn, picking up her glass.

‘Oh yes. On a scale of one to ten he’s an eleven. Tall, dark and handsome. And clearly loaded. What more could you ask for?’

Carolyn watched as Richards took his place at his own table and began talking to a young red-headed girl in a gravity-defying dress. ‘That’s a very good question,’ she said.

CHAPTER 33

Richards climbed into the back of the Porsche and lit a cigar. ‘How did it go?” asked Halpin, twisting around in his seat.

Richards shrugged.  ‘I’m having lunch with her on Friday.’

‘You met her?’

‘Sat down next to her, closer to her than I am to you.’

‘And?’

Richards shrugged again. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘You’re not sure? How can you not be sure? Either she recognised you or she didn’t. Did she say anything?’

‘Chit chat. That’s all.’

‘Chit chat?’

‘Chit chat.’ Richards wound down the window and blew smoke. ‘What did you expect her to say? Point her finger at me and scream “murderer!”  That was never going to happen.’

‘Did she recognise you, boss? I need to know because if she recognised you then she’ll recognise me.’

‘I don’t know. She looked me in the eye and smiled like she wanted to suck my dick, but I don’t know if she recognised me. She’s an actress and a bloody good one.’

‘This is fucked up, boss. We need to know one way or another.’

Richards narrowed his eyes. ‘You think I don’t know that?’

‘That’s not what I’m saying, boss. But you’re playing a dangerous game here.’

‘A game? You’re saying I think this is a game?’

Halpin shook his head. ‘That’s not what I’m saying boss.’ He started the engine. ‘Home?’

‘Nah, hang on a minute. I’m waiting for someone.’

‘Not her?’

Richards laughed. ‘No, not her.’ He took a long pull on his cigar and then slowly blew smoke through the window.  ‘I know how important this is,’ he said. ‘If she has recognised me and goes to the cops, I’m screwed.’

‘Her word against ours. And the body’s at the bottom of the North Sea.’

‘Which means they’ll have us under surveillance, twenty-four seven. And I can’t afford that. Cohen ripped off all my working capital and I’ve got bills to pay. I’m going to have to get busy with The Mint and I can’t do that if I’ve got Five-O breathing down my neck.’

‘The Mint?’

‘Murray Wainwright. He’s an old mate of mine, over from Spain. He’s connected to some of the biggest dope smugglers in Morocco. I’m sounding him out about the possibility of funding a few shipments. But I’m not going to be able to do that with the cops on my back.’

‘So what’s the plan?’ asked Halpin.

‘I think we’re in the clear. There’s been nothing in the papers, no photo-fits or descriptions or anything. And if she had gone to the cops, that’d be in the papers, too. They couldn’t keep a lid on something like that.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Halpin.

‘So that means that, for whatever reason, she hasn’t talked to the cops. And I’m fairly sure from the way she behaved that she didn’t recognise me. I’ll see how we get on over lunch, and if she’s the same then it probably means we’re in the clear.’

‘And if we’re not?’

‘If we’re not and she did see us in Cohen’s house then she’ll be talking to the cops tonight and we’ll know soon enough.  Like you said, it’d be her word against ours and we’ve both got cast iron alibis. They haven’t got a body and, other than her, there’s no one to say we were in Cohen’s house. Everything else is circumstantial.’

‘We both know people who’ve gone down on circumstantial evidence.’

‘True. But if she goes to the cops and identifies us, then she puts herself in the firing line. Without her, they’ll have no case at all.’

‘So we wait and see?’

Richards took a long pull on his cigar, blew smoke, and then nodded. ‘That’s it exactly,’ he said. ‘We’ll cross our chickens as and when we come to them.’

The blonde PR who had taken his cheque walked out of the hotel and waved at him. She was wearing a long blue coat that flapped in the wind.

‘Nice,’ said Halpin.

‘Eyes front,’ said Richards, opening the door for the girl. ‘And ears closed.’

CHAPTER 34

Seb was as good as his word and dropped Carolyn off in front of her house.  ‘Thanks for tonight,’ he said, patting her on the leg. ‘Above and beyond the call of duty.’

‘Happy to help,’ said Carolyn. ‘Anything for the kids.’

‘You seem to have struck gold with your lunch date, which is more than I can say.’

‘How long have you known him?’

‘Warwick? Tonight was the first time I’ve met him. I’ve heard of him, but never actually crossed his path.’

‘You’re a regular at his club, he said.’

Seb chuckled. ‘I wouldn’t say it’s a home away from home, but if you want a quiet place for a few drinks late at night away from prying eyes, it’s hard to beat.  There’s a VIP lift that goes straight from the car park to the club so there are no paps around. And the VIP section really is VIP so no one gets in your face.’

‘Was it Warwick who invited you?’

Seb shook his head.  ‘One of his people. Guy called Mick. Mick Halpin. Mick I see quite often. He schmooses the big spenders and is in charge of security. Big guy, you wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.’ He grinned. ‘Though having said that…’

‘You’re incorrigible,’ said Carolyn.

‘Well I have to confess to enjoying a bit of rough every now and again,’ said Seb.

‘And did Mick specifically ask you to invite me?’

Seb’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can hear the wheels turning,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong?’

Carolyn laughed. ‘Nothing’s wrong. I just wondered if it was a coincidence, you know, my being invited and then Warwick bidding so much for the lunch.’

‘You think he’s a fan?’

‘Something like that,’ said Carolyn.

‘Seems a bit complicated,’ said Seb. ‘If he’d wanted to get to meet you I’m sure Mick could have mentioned it to me. I mean, Warwick’s a good looking guy, Carolyn. I’d have linked you up.’

‘Pimped me out, you mean,’ she laughed. She was making light of it but behind her laugh her mind was still in a whirl. Was Warwick Richards the man she’d seen in the house or not?  The man in the house wielding the crystal dolphin had been tall, dark and good-looking and Warwick Richards fitted that bill. But it had been at night and there had been reflections on the window and she had been drinking and, hand on heart, she wasn’t sure.

‘Do you know much about him?’

‘Just what I’ve heard, that he’s the owner and has an eye for the ladies.’

‘He’s not a gangster, is he?’

Seb laughed. ‘A what?’

‘You know what I mean, Seb. There are some very edgy people in the nightclub business.’

‘In the Sixties maybe, but these days?’ He shook his head. ‘They don’t let gangsters run nightclubs. The council pulls their licences at the first hint of anything like that.’ He grinned. ‘Having said that, I’ve definitely seen some very iffy people spending money in there. Sharp suits and broken noses and tarts with their tits out, but everyone’s as good as gold.’

‘He is good looking, isn’t he?’

‘Darling, I’ll swop yours for mine any day of the week. I think that woman who paid for me is expecting a nooner for her money.’

“I trust you’ll let her down gently,’ she said,

Seb’s car stayed outside her house until she let herself in, then his driver beeped the horn and drove off.  She keyed in the burglar alarm code, kicked off her high heels and poured herself a glass of red wine before phoning Terry. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked him.

‘Drinking wine and watching America’s Next Top Model,’ he said. ‘You?’

‘Just back from a charity do with Seb.’

‘Good that you want to put something back, darling.’

‘I think I met the guy from the house,’ said Carolyn.

‘Stay right where you are,’ said Terry. ‘I’m coming round.’

CHAPTER 35

 ‘You are shitting me,’ said Terry. ‘You’re pulling my chain, right?’ He was sprawled on one of Carolyn’s sofas holding an oversized glass of red wine.

‘I’m saying it might be him. I’m not a hundred percent sure.’

‘And you’re seeing him for lunch on Friday?’

‘I said I’d give him a tour of the studio. That way I can run him by you, see what you think.’

‘Darling, you’re the one who saw him bashing Cohen’s brains in. What do expect me to do?’

‘I just wanted you to meet him,’ said Carolyn. ‘He’s charming. And very good looking.’

‘But is he the man you saw in the house? That’s the only thing that matters.’

Carolyn sipped her wine thoughtfully. ‘I think so,’ she said. ‘When I saw him walking across the room towards my table, I was certain. But the closer he got, the less certain I was. Then, when he started talking to me,..’  She shrugged.

‘He’s charming so he can’t be a killer? Is that it?’

‘He just seemed so nice. And what are the odds that the man I saw committing a murder would be at a charity dinner and would pay to have lunch with me?’

‘Anything’s possible, darling. Look at Elton John’s hair.’

Carolyn laughed. ‘If it was him, why would he want to have lunch with me.’

‘Is there any way he could have seen you at the house?’

‘I don’t think so.  As soon as the lights went on I was running for the gate. I’m sure they couldn’t have seen my face.’

‘You left your shoes behind.’

‘Bog standard Prada,’ said Carolyn. ‘It’s not as if I dropped my wallet. There’s no way he could have identified me from the shoes.’ She frowned. ‘What do you think? You think he knows I was there?’

‘If he didn’t see you, then obviously not. In which case it’s a coincidence. Assuming it is him you saw at the house.’

‘Oh, and he drives a Porsche Cayenne, not a Bentley.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘I asked him. Told him I needed to talk to studio security.’

‘You little detective you,’ said Terry, raising his glass in salute. ‘You really have to think this through, Carolyn. Is it him or not? Because if it is him, you need to go to the cops now before it goes any further.’

‘I hear what you’re saying, really. But the more I try to remember, the fuzzier it becomes.’

‘Fuzzier?’

Carolyn sighed. ‘My memory’s never been great,’ she said. ‘I can remember lines but I’m terrible with dates and I really can’t remember faces. I’m forever introducing myself to people I’ve already met. And now when I think back to the house, I see his face but I’m not sure if it’s because I saw him tonight. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

Terry nodded. ‘They say eyewitness evidence is the most unreliable. Forensic or CCTV you can rely on, but if six people witness an accident they’ll each come up with a different version of what happened.’ He grinned. ‘My cop boyfriend told me that.’

‘I just don’t know,’ said Carolyn. ‘And if I’m wrong, I mean, how awful would that be to go to the police and blame someone for a murder if they didn’t do it? And we’re still not sure there’s been a murder.’