Who's That Girl

by T S Hunter

He looked at Joe as though he was somehow implicated.

  “We were scheduling the gig,” Joe said.

  “Whatever,” Scott said. “Anyway, I tackled him outside, as he was leaving. Like I say, he tried to give me the brush off, but I’d seen him having a bit of a barney with the barman, so I figured he’d be able to give me the skinny.”

  “Oh, Scott,” Violet said, sitting down again. “You didn’t?”

  “What?” Scott asked. “I asked him about Danny. I told him I was his son, wanting a reconciliation. He clammed right up. Wouldn’t say a word.”

  Violet looked at Russell, panic in her eyes.

  “Ron’s still there?” she asked. “At the Red Lion?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Joe said.

  “And you told him?” she turned on Scott.

  “What? Who? The barman? Who is he?”

  “He’s your father,” Violet shouted.

  “What? But Danny was the one who...”

  “I know what Danny did,” Violet spat. “I know what he kept doing, but you’re not his. I mean, look at you, you’re the spit of Ron. There’s no question that Ron is your father. I just couldn’t be there any more. Danny kept coming round, he wouldn’t leave me alone. And I told Jean what he’d been doing, but she wouldn’t believe me. She said I must have seduced him. She took his side. And she said she’d tell Ron that, unless I left. So I had to go. They would have destroyed Ron’s life otherwise.”

  “Oh Jesus,” Joe said. He shot out of his seat, as did Russell.

  “Right you two,” Russell said to Scott and Violet. “You’re coming with us.”

  Both looked panicked.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just get your things, and let’s get this sorted out. Everything’s going to be fine. I promise.”

  Scott and Violet both nodded. When Russell said something was going to be okay, people tended to believe him.

  “Come on,” Russell said turning to Joe.

  RUSSELL LED THEM ALL into the pub via the main doors, having sent Joe in first to secure any escape to the back. Ron looked up from the bar as he heard the bolt slide into place, locking the door from inside.

  “What the...”

  He stopped dead, realising who was in front of him.

  “Vi?” he asked, his face breaking into a smile despite himself. “That you, girl?”

  It almost broke Russell’s heart. Ron had really loved her. He didn’t really blame him for what he’d done. Danny had ruined his life, and when he’d finally found out what he thought was the truth, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself—it was only natural he would have lashed out.

  “Oh, Ronnie,” she said, hurrying across the bar to meet him.

  Russell let them have a moment together. Ron wouldn’t be going anywhere, and he wasn’t looking forward to having to level the charges at his old friend anyway.

  Ron looked over Violet’s shoulder at Russell.

  “You figured it out then?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I had a horrible feeling you would, in the end.”

  “What did you do, Ron?” Violet asked, holding his face in her hands.

  “I did it for you, Vi,” he said. “And for the boy. And for me, too, I guess. He ruined everything, for all of us.”

  She buried her face in his shoulder. Russell gave Scott a nod, and the young man stepped forward and took his mother’s elbow, guiding her away from Ron.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to Ron as she broke their embrace.

  He just smiled sadly.

  “None of this was your fault,” he said. And he was right.

  Russell guided Ron towards to bar, poured them both a drink and sat down. It was time to have it out, properly.

  “What happened, Ron?” he asked. “Did you spike his drink?”

  “Yeah,” Ron said, wearily. “I just wanted him to make a fool of himself for once. And I wanted the excuse to get him on my own. I’d thought if he’d passed out on stage, I’d be able to take him upstairs, wait until it wore off, and then get him to admit the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  “The kid told me everything,” Ron said, sadly. “How Danny had raped Vi. How Danny was actually his father. How Jean had found out and turned against Vi, claiming she’d tried to steal Danny from her. It all makes sense now, doesn’t it?”

  “Sure. Apart from Danny isn’t Scott’s father,” Russell said. “I mean, look at him. Sure, he’s a lanky streak of piss, but he’s the image of you Ron, couldn’t you see that?”

  Ron looked across at Scott holding his mother’s hand, both of them whispering earnestly to one another. His face went from anger, to sadness, to confusion. He looked back at Russell, the frown etched deep on his brow.

  “What’re you talking about?”

  “Danny did rape her, Violet told me that. But the boy’s not his, Ron. Scott is your son, always has been.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No.”

  Ron slumped, the weight of the truth just too much for him.

  “Why didn’t she say?”

  “Because Jean had promised to ruin your business and destroy both of your lives unless she moved away. She didn’t want her around where Danny could find her, and Violet couldn’t face seeing him again anyway.”

  “Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “You’ll have to ask her, Ron, but I would imagine she was scared. Scared of what you’d do, scared of what Danny would do. What good would telling you have done? She had to go, and she knew you couldn’t go with her. Not with the pub taking off like it was.”

  Ron sat quietly, watching the family he could have had.

  “I would have given it all up for her,” he said, sadly.

  He took a long swig of his drink, wiped his mouth.

  “I think she knew that. And she would never have asked that of you.”

  “What’s going to happen now?” he asked, suddenly small.

  “I have no idea, Ron,” Russell admitted. “You say you spiked his drink?”

  “Yeah, but I just meant for him to pass out, like he was drunk, so I could get him upstairs and tackle him for what he did. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  “You didn’t kill him.”

  “No, no, I know. But if I hadn’t have spiked him, he’d probably have been able to fend off his attacker. He was a strong guy. Oh God, I’m going down for this, ain’t I?”

  “You didn’t kill him, Ron. There was no attacker. He just fell. It was an accident.”

  Ron look incredulous.

  “Bollocks, he was stabbed.”

  Russell shook his head.

  “No. He fell. Scott had gone backstage to tackle him about selling the house. You’d already spiked his drink. He was reeling all over the place. They got in a bit of a scuffle, Scott stepped out of the way, lost a shoe. Danny fell, impaled himself on the spike of the heel. Goodnight Vienna.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Ron said.

  “Neither of you killed him,” Russell said, honestly.

  “And yet both of us did.”

  “It was misadventure at best. Besides, who’s going to miss him enough to push for charges?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Don’t you think everyone’s suffered enough, thanks to Danny? Jean’s not much longer for this world, and when she’s gone, it’s all over.”

  “You’re saying you’re just going to let this go?”

  “You forget, Ron,” Russell said. “I’m not a copper any more. It’s got nothing to do with me, has it?”

  “Yeah, but that Detective Skinner’s already got his eye on me.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t worry about that too much,” Russell said. “His eye’s not that good. Besides, if I have my way, he won’t be in the job for much longer. How does your conscience feel?”

  “Conflicted. Better now the truth is out. And at least I know it wasn’t me that actually killed him.”

  “And it wasn’t Scott either. It was just bad
luck, like Jean said all along. So maybe he finally got what was coming to him.”

  Ron sat back, looking at Russell with a strange expression on his face.

  “You’ve changed.”

  Russell smiled. He had. Hopefully for the better.

  Russell met young Matthew outside the police station. He’d thought he’d be happy enough to come down to his old workplace, but once they’d got here, he’d felt more reluctant to go inside. Joe had done the deed alone, bless him.

  As it turned out, Skinner had just released Matthew anyway. The autopsy had shown that Danny had a cocktail of drink and drugs in his system, and though they hadn’t been able to ascertain how he had been stabbed, they were calling the death an accident.

  There were more than enough witnesses who had all confirmed that Matthew hadn’t been alone with Danny long enough to stab him, dispose of the weapon and get back on scene before raising the alarm. Besides, Detective Skinner had found himself being stonewalled by the witnesses.

  Everybody they had interviewed gave a different account of that night, a different description of the girl that had been seen running away, and a different set of timings for the events of the evening.

  Nothing had made sense, and none of it would stand up in court. The only thing all witnesses were united on was that Matthew hadn’t been alone with Danny for long enough to do the deed.

  “Thanks for coming to get me,” Matthew said as he bounced out of the station with Joe beside him. “What a shit hole. I thought they were never going to let me go.”

  “What happened to your face?” Russell asked, noticing a livid bruise across Matthew’s cheekbone.

  “Apparently, I was resisting arrest.”

  “Were you?”

  “Of course not, they just wanted to show me how tough and manly they all are.”

  “Who hit you? Was it Skinner?” Russell was in the mood to bring the detective down if so.

  “No, some nonce in a uniform. Don’t worry about it Russ, it’s not the first time, and I doubt it’ll be the last. Besides, it’ll earn me a free pint down at the Lion.” He laughed, not seeing the injustice of it all.

  “Come on then,” Joe said. “First round’s on me.”

  They turned their backs on the station and set off.

  “Mr Dixon?” Skinner’s unmistakable, nasal voice called across the street.

  “Wait here,” Russell said under his breath to Joe.

  Turning around, he crossed the road to where Skinner was standing, hands on hips.

  “Can I help, Detective?” He would never tire of making Skinner’s job title sound like a piss-take.

  “I know you know what really happened to Dan Carter,” Skinner hissed. “And if I find one scrap of evidence that you’ve been tampering with my witnesses, I’ll...”

  “You’ll what?” Russell snapped. “Have my job? Too late, pal.”

  “I’ll arrest you for obstruction of justice,” Skinner said, triumphantly.

  “Save your breath, darling,” Russell said. “If I were you, I’d chalk Dan Carter’s death up to an accident. He was drunk, he was on something. He was always very accident prone, maybe he fell over, landed straight on that heel, you know? Stranger things have happened.”

  Skinner came right up close to him.

  “I’m going to solve this case,” he said. “And when I do, I’m taking you down too.”

  “Not if I take you down first,” Russell said, turning his back on Skinner and crossing the road to join up with Joe and Matthew.

  “I’ve got my eye on you,” Skinner shouted.

  “I’m flattered,” Russell shouted back. “But you’re not my type.”

  The look on Skinner’s face made them all laugh.

  “You shouldn’t wind him up,” Joe warned.

  Russell grinned.

  “I’ve got to have some fun in life,” he said. “Come on, let’s get that pint.”

  6

  Jean’s funeral had gone off without much drama. It was a bright, sunny morning, and just a handful of visitors had gathered at the graveside. Russell and Joe stood on one side, Violet and Scott on the other, with Ron just behind them. No tears, no wailing.

  Violet stepped forward when the vicar ended his sermon and dropped a red rose into the grave. The others followed suit, a final encore for the once-celebrated jazz singer.

  Ron put his arm around Violet’s shoulder, and she in turn put one around Scott’s waist—a family reunited. Russell and Joe smiled at each other.

  “You alright?” Joe asked.

  “I think so,” he said. He knew what Joe was asking. Are you really okay with Ron and Scott both getting away with Danny’s death? They had discussed it only once since finding out the truth, and whichever way they had looked at it, they couldn’t see the value in either of them serving time for what had happened.

  Neither of them had intended to kill Danny, though both had set out to frighten him. It was just dumb luck that they had both put their plans into action on the same night. Like father, like son.

  Violet stopped in front of them, not letting go of either of her men.

  “They’ll put Danny beside her,” Violet said. “She’ll like that.”

  “So they’ve released the body then?”

  “Yeah,” Ron said. “Apparently they’ll keep trying to solve the case.”

  “Yeah, right. Don’t hold your breath,” Russell said, patting Ron on the shoulder. “Drinks on you then?”

  Violet linked her arm through Ron’s.

  “Technically, they’re on me now,” she said, smiling.

  It was the first time that Russell had seen her looking genuinely happy. Ron closed his hand over hers.

  “I want to thank you,” she said. “For not giving up when I told you to. And for getting to the truth.”

  “It’s in my nature, I’m afraid,” Russell said. “I don’t know anything else.”

  “Well, thanks,” she said. “I owe you.”

  “Just look after each other,” Russell said.

  “Don’t worry, we will,” Violet said, squeezing Ron’s arm.

  “See you back at the pub, then,” Ron said, leaning in. “And thanks, for everything.”

  Scott smiled shyly and thanked him too. Joe turned to face Russell, framing his face with upturned hands.

  “My hero,” he sighed.

  “Piss off,” Russell laughed.

  The smile dropped from his face as he saw Skinner standing at the edge of the churchyard, watching them all. He’d hoped his old foe would have got bored with this case by now. Obviously, he still had an axe to grind with Russell. Joe followed his gaze.

  “He’s just trying to wind you up,” Joe said. “Don’t let him get to you.”

  He was right, of course. Russell set his shoulders as the two of them walked past Skinner.

  “Detective,” he nodded, sailing on past without a backward glance. Skinner may be coming for him, but he wasn’t getting him today.

  Before You Go

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading the second book in my Soho Noir series. I do hope you enjoyed it.

  If you did, please leave a review in the place you bought the book from.

  Reviews help authors like me to make sales, and break through the barriers to get their work seen. It’s the best gift you can possibly give.

  Thanks again for reading.

  Yours,

  T.S. Hunter

  About the Author

  Claiming to be at least half-Welsh, T.S. Hunter lived in South Wales for much of his latter teens, moving to London as soon as confidence and finances allowed. He never looked back.

  He has variously been a teacher, a cocktail waiter, a podium dancer and a removal man, but his passion for writing has been the only constant.

  He's a confident and engaging speaker and guest, who is as passionate about writing and storytelling as he is about promoting mainstream LGBT fiction.

  He now lives with his husband in the c
ountry, and is active on social media as @TSHunter5.

  Praise For TAINTED LOVE

  SOHO NOIR #1

  “Fast paced, engrossing, nostalgic yet essential for the modern audience. Keeps you guessing ‘til the end. An exciting addition to the rapidly growing cannon of LGBT literature.”

  “Tainted Love is set squarely in the LGBT experience, our history runs through it. First and foremost, though, it’s a superb crime story with a great cast of characters driving the fast-paced plot along.”

  You can buy Tainted Love from all good bookshops.