Bad Blood Rising

by Eva Carmichael

  “I said no one must know, especially Erica. Is Colin still at the Emerald? I have to speak to him urgently.”

  “I’m not sure if he’ll still be there at this time. I’ve heard he’s sweet on Shirley. He might be with her.”

  “Shirley?” Karl frowned. “Shirley and Colin Clutterbuck? I don’t believe it.”

  “Well, it’s what the girls are saying. Colin didn’t deny it when I asked him.”

  “Bloody hell, Colin Clutterbuck and Shirley? Who’d have thought it?”

  “Just goes to show there’s somebody for everybody. Do you want me to give Colin a ring and get him back to the office?”

  “No, it can wait until tomorrow. You’d better get back to the Topaz.”

  “Okay,” Joe sighed. “If you’re sure you’re okay, Karl. I’ll ring you tomorrow.”

  “See you then, Joe, and thanks for the lift.”

  When Joe had left the office, Karl poured himself a whisky, this time making sure to add the soda. He telephoned Erica.

  “What time are you coming over?” he asked abruptly when she answered. “It’s nearly seven o’clock. We’ll be opening up soon.”

  “I’ve been trying to ring you all afternoon. Where have you been?”

  “Since when do I answer to you?” Karl snapped. “Are you coming in tonight or not?”

  “Well, that’s why I was trying to ring you. Marion has invited me out for a drink. We haven’t had a catch-up in ages and…”

  “Marion? What the hell are you doing going out for a drink with her?”

  “She’s alright, in fact I like her. I think she’s at a bit of a loose end since the house on Broughton Street closed.”

  “What do you mean ‘loose end’? I would have thought running the agency would have kept her occupied.”

  “It’s not the same though, just working on the computer and telephone all the time. I think she misses the banter with the girls.”

  “Where are you thinking of going with your new best mate?”

  “Marion suggested the Westbrook. I thought we might have a bite to eat in the restaurant.”

  Karl hesitated a moment before speaking.

  “Alright, I suppose you’re due a night off, but I don’t want you out late. Make sure you’re in before midnight, okay?”

  “You make me feel like Cinderella,” Erica grinned. “I’ll see you when you get home. Goodnight, Karl.”

  But Karl had already hung up the receiver.

  FIFTY-THREE

  David Glendenning parked his car at the far side of the car park and made his way to the back of the Emerald Club. He walked furtively over to the three steps leading to the rear entrance. He knocked just once before the door was opened by a large man whose frame almost filled the doorway.

  “I need to see Karl urgently,” David said, pushing past Peter.

  “Karl’s in his office,” he replied. “Wait here.”

  Peter walked over to the internal phone and rang Karl’s extension. After a brief conversation he turned to David. “The boss says to go straight up.”

  David ascended the familiar back staircase leading directly to Karl’s office. Karl was waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

  “Bloody hell, David, I thought I looked rough. What’s the matter?”

  David entered the office, flung himself on the couch and lit a cigarette. “I don’t suppose there’s a whisky going, is there? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for hours.”

  Karl poured two drinks and handed one to David. “What’s with the dark glasses and baseball cap?” he smirked. “Getting down with the kids, are we?”

  “Ha ha, very funny. Where’ve you been all day anyway? I’ve been trying to get hold of you.”

  “Not another one who thinks I have to report my every move. I’ve enough with Erica. Now, are you going to tell me what’s rattling your cage?”

  David relayed the conversation he had had earlier that day with the DCC. “I’m finished. Those bastards are going to hang me out to dry.”

  “Bollocks. Just deny it. They can’t prove anything.”

  “They’ll have a bloody good try. I thought you vetted everyone who came to the lounge? It sounds like there’s been an undercover cop snooping.”

  “We do vet applications as much as we can, but this is a sex club not MI5.” The internal phone on Karl’s desk rang. “Yeah,” Karl snapped. “I’m busy, Peter. What is it?”

  “There’s a policeman here, Karl. He says he wants to talk to you. His name is Glendenning.” Karl turned to face David.

  “Fuck!” David snarled. “That’s my son. What’s he up to?”

  “You’d better hide in here,” Karl said opening the cupboard and releasing the back wall. “Don’t make a sound.” David looked quizzical at Karl but walked into the cupboard as directed and Karl closed the door.

  “Show him up, Peter,” Karl said sitting back behind his desk.

  When Matthew entered the room, followed closely by Peter, Karl was struck by how much Matthew resembled his father.

  “What can I do for you, officer?” he said cordially.

  “You can keep away from my father, you bastard.” Matthew spat. “He’s been suspended because of you.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Karl said angrily, rising from his chair and walking around to the front of the desk. “Do I know your father?”

  “My father is Superintendent Glendenning, as you very well know. He’s been coming to this whorehouse for years.”

  “This isn’t a whorehouse, it’s a respectable club and you are trespassing. Now piss off.”

  “You don’t scare me, you filthy lowlife pimp,” Matthew spat. “You keep away from my father or I swear to God I’ll…”

  “You’ll what?” Karl goaded, standing menacingly in front of the younger man. “I think you’d better leave before Peter here throws you out.”

  Matthew walked towards the door and then turned sharply round. “You haven’t heard the last of me, Maddox. My mother’s in bits because of you and your filthy whores.”

  “Get out,” Karl yelled, striding menacingly towards Matthew. Peter grabbed Matthew’s arm and he spun round, crashing into the door jamb. “You’ve no idea who you’re messing with, young man. Now get out of my club and don’t come back.” Peter pushed Matthew out onto the landing.

  “I’m going to finish you, Maddox,” Matthew shouted as he was unceremoniously escorted down the stairs by Peter. “You haven’t heard the last of me.”

  Karl was angry with the encounter. He wasn’t used to people speaking to him like that. It was then he remembered David.

  Walking over to the cupboard, he opened the door but there was no sign of him. Descending the stairs into the passageway, Karl could see David at the far side looking through the fretwork into the club.

  “Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Karl said.

  “All this time I’ve known you, I never knew this existed. You’re a sly bastard, Karl.”

  “Only a handful of people know about the passage, that’s the way I want it to stay. Okay?”

  “Oh don’t worry about me. Officially I’ve never been here, remember? By the way, what’s with the gun up there on the shelf? I didn’t think you were into guns.”

  “Oh that? I took it off a vicious little thug a few years back. I’ve never used it but you never know when it might come in useful.” Karl turned and climbed the stairs returning to the office, followed closely by David. “That son of yours is a feisty little bastard, isn’t he? He’s lucky to get out of here in once piece, talking to me like that.”

  “Sorry, Karl. I’ll speak to him,” David sighed. “He’s very protective towards his mother and right now things are not good between us.”

  “Make sure he doesn’t pay a return visit or next time he won’t be so lucky. Do you hear what I’m saying, David?”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure he won’t be back, but right now, there are more pressing things to worry about.”
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  “I’ve told you, just deny everything. Those wankers can’t prove a thing.”

  “It’s not just that, Karl. There’s something you should know, and you’re not going to like it.”

  FIFTY-FOUR

  Cupid’s Angels was the most popular escort agency in the city with over forty girls on its books. Shirley worked as night manager. Business was conducted by telephone and computer from a small unit at the edge of an industrial estate. Shirley was chatting to Colin when the telephone rang.

  “No peace for the wicked,” she grinned, walking through to the desk in reception. She put on her headset and turned on her computer. “Good evening, Cupid’s Angels,” she cooed. “How may I help you tonight?”

  “I, err, I want a girl to come to my hotel,” a man’s voice said nervously.

  “Yes, of course, sir. Have you used Cupid’s Angels before?”

  “No, no this is the first time. I, err…”

  “Could you give me your name please, sir?”

  “My name? Oh it’s… it’s Harry. Harry Smith.”

  “Well Harry, do you have any particular type of girl in mind, or would you like me to choose one for you?”

  “What type of girls have you got?”

  “We have blondes, brunettes, redheads. Do you have a preference?”

  “Oh redheads, definitely redheads. Can you send me a young redhead, please?”

  “Can you give me your hotel and room number Harry?”

  “I’m at the Westbrook, room 233. Do you know where that is?”

  “Yes Harry, we know where the Westbrook is. Will you be paying by card or cash?”

  “By cash, if that’s alright.”

  “Yes, that’s fine Harry. I’m sending Bunny over to the hotel. She will be with you in thirty minutes. Bunny’s a beautiful girl in her early twenties with long red hair and a fantastic figure. Do you know our charges?”

  “Yes, they’re on your webpage. Fifty pounds for the agency fee and then whatever price I negotiate with the girl, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, that’s right, dear.” As Shirley was speaking to Harry, she was e-mailing Bunny with details of the booking. “I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time with Bunny. She’s one of our most popular girls.”

  Taking off her headset, Shirley turned to face Colin.

  “Fancy a Chinese? I’m starving.”

  “Yes, of course, dear,” Colin grinned. “What would you like?” Colin took out a menu from the desk drawer and handed it to Shirley.

  “The usual, I think. Chicken Chow Mein with fried rice. What about you?”

  “I think I’ll have the same. Should I get you a bottle of wine?”

  “Colin! You know I’m not supposed to drink whilst I’m working,” she scolded, wagging her finger playfully. “What would Karl say?”

  “Bugger Karl. If my girl wants a bottle of wine, she’ll bloody well have one.”

  “Your girl?” Shirley smiled coyly. “Is that what I am, Colin? Really?”

  “If you want to be,” Colin grinned, putting his arm affectionately around her shoulders. “I do love you, Shirley.” He gently kissed her on the mouth.

  “Oh Colin, I…” Before she could respond, the telephone rang. Automatically she picked up the headset. “Good evening, Cupid’s Angels. How may I help you tonight?”

  Colin gently released his hold and walked to the door.

  “Back in fifteen minutes,” he mouthed, smiling. “Don’t go away.”

  FIFTY-FIVE

  Erica was in her lounge and already on her second gin and tonic when Marion arrived.

  “Drink?” she offered.

  “No thanks, it’s a bit early for me. Is everything alright, Erica? You look upset.”

  “Upset? Why should I be upset? I’m about to tell Charlotte how her mother died and my part in the cover-up, but that’s no reason to be upset, is it, Marion?”

  “For goodness sake, Erica, how many have you had?”

  “Not enough. Not nearly enough.” Erica flung herself onto the couch and began to sob uncontrollably. Marion sat beside her, cradling her in her arms when the doorbell rang.

  “That’ll be Joe,” she said, slightly relieved. “I’ll let him in.”

  There was a muffled conversation in the hallway before Joe came into the room. Erica held out her arms and Joe picked her up off the couch, holding her tightly.

  “There,” he soothed. “Please don’t cry. Everything will be okay, you’ll see.”

  “Joe, before we visit Charlotte, there’s something I have to tell you. I should have told you a long time ago but…”

  “Does it concern Karl?”

  Erica nodded.

  “I’ve always known you were hiding something,” Joe said softly, “but you know you can tell me anything, Erica. Anything at all.”

  “I’ll put the kettle on,” Marion said walking into Erica’s state of the art kitchen, “or at least I will once I figure out which is the kettle. I’ve never seen so many fancy gadgets.”

  “There isn’t a kettle, Marion,” Erica smiled weakly as she pulled away from Joe and joined Marion in the kitchen. “There’s a boiling water dispenser on the wall. You just press the button.”

  “Bloody hell, whatever next?”

  Erica went back into the lounge and sat on the couch next to Joe. Marion joined them with the tea a couple of minutes later.

  “What’s that bastard done to you?” Joe asked, stroking Erica’s hair gently.

  Erica took a deep breath, put her cup down on the table and turned to face Joe and Marion. “I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never told anyone before except Karl.” Joe could feel her body trembling as he held her.

  “What is it?” he whispered. “Darling, you can tell me anything, you know that.”

  “The thing is, there was an accident… a terrible accident, and…”

  “What sort of accident?” Joe and Marion said in unison.

  “When I was fourteen, I… I killed my father.” Both her companions stared at her in disbelief.

  “You did what? I don’t believe you,” Marion said sharply. “You wouldn’t kill anyone Erica, you couldn’t.”

  “Believe me, I did. I didn’t mean to, I just wanted to make him go away but…”

  “Why?” Joe asked. “Why would you kill your own father?”

  “Because my father was a paedophile. He had abused Mary for years and when she left, he tried turning to me.”

  “Why the hell didn’t you tell anyone?” Joe said angrily.

  “I did tell someone. I told Karl.”

  “What exactly happened?” Marion asked softly. “From the beginning, love.”

  Erica’s eyes brimmed with tears and she held Joe’s hand tightly. “Mary had already gone off to Ireland with Liam. I knew my father had been abusing her, I actually witnessed it once.” She began to tremble and Joe kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  “Go on,” he encouraged. “What happened?”

  “One night my father came into my bedroom. It was late and he’d been drinking. He leaned over my bed and tried to kiss me. I was terrified. I suppose I always knew he might try to hurt me one day like he had Mary. I panicked. I reached for the glass paperweight I kept under the bed and I hit him over the head. I only hit him the once.”

  “Serves the bastard right,” Marion sneered.

  “I’d been seeing Karl for a few weeks by this time. After I attacked my father, I was hysterical. He was lying on the floor, his head covered in blood. I didn’t know what to do so I rang Karl to help me.” Tears began to run down her cheeks as she spoke, and her body trembled. Joe put a comforting arm around her.

  “Go on, Erica,” he encouraged softly, “what happened next?”

  “Karl came to the house straight away. He said the best thing to do was make it look like my father had been mugged so he put his body into his car boot and drove away. He told me later he had dumped him in an alleyway in town.”

  “Karl told me your father had b
een murdered,” Joe said quietly, “but he never mentioned his part in it.”

  “So, that’s how you came to be in care?” Marion said sympathetically. “You poor love.” She gave Erica an affectionate hug. “Paula used to write to me and she told me you two had become friends.”

  “We became best friends. In fact, apart from Karl, she was the only one who knew what I had done to my father. It had been a terrible secret to keep and Paula helped me to cope with the guilt.”

  “She never breathed a word about it to me,” Marion sighed. “I just thought your father had been attacked and robbed.”

  “There’s something else, isn’t there? What else aren’t you telling us, Erica?” Joe asked softly.

  Erica pulled away from Joe, her posture stiffened slightly.

  “You’ve got this far,” Marion coaxed. “You might as well tell us the rest.”

  “When I went into care, I still saw Karl regularly. We would meet up after school and at weekends. Nobody at the home seemed concerned about where I went or who I saw.”

  “The man’s a bastard,” Marion hissed. “Always was.”

  “I was naïve back then, Marion. I was fourteen and I thought he was wonderful. When I turned sixteen, he asked me to marry him.” Marion looked at her disapprovingly. “You’ve got to remember, I had no one. I’d lost touch with Mary and I had no other family. Karl was kind to me and getting married to him seemed the perfect solution.”

  “You’re not in love with him now though, are you?” Joe asked. “Anyone can see that. Why do you stay with him? Why don’t you just walk away?”

  “I can’t, Joe. Believe me, if I could I would, but it’s impossible.”

  “Why can’t you? I don’t understand.”

  “Karl and I had been married about three months when we had a fight. I don’t remember what it was about, but I tried to leave the flat. He grabbed me and pinned me against the wall. That was the first time he threatened to reveal to the police what I had done to my father.”

  “After all this time he can’t prove it,” Marion hissed. “Nobody’s going to take his word against yours.”

  “You don’t understand. Karl said he still had the paperweight I had hit my father with. It has my fingerprints all over it. He said if I ever try to leave him he’ll…”