‘It’s worse than that.’ I told him about Susie’s nuptials. ‘He’s persuaded her that black is white, and that it was us who tried to set him up.’
‘To hell with that!’ he exclaimed. ‘Make that denuncio. It’ll still be valid and I’ll act on it. Where do they live?’
‘Monaco, but—’
‘Fine. He may think he can thumb his nose at us from there, but he’s wrong. Spain has an extradition treaty in place with that country, and if we have a criminal action against him we can get him.’ My friend was seriously pumped up.
‘Slow down, Alex,’ I pleaded. ‘I didn’t make an official complaint against him last year because I didn’t want the publicity that would flow from it. That still applies. But if there’s some way I can prove to Susie that she’s married a crook … That’s what I’m after, you see.’
He was silent for a few seconds. ‘Let me think about it,’ he murmured, eventually. ‘Let me talk to my boss in Barcelona. Maybe he would authorise me giving you a transcript of the recording, since your voice is on it. But I’m not confident,’ he warned.
I didn’t press him. I knew that if he could make it work, he would. But even if he did, and I laid a notarised transcript in front of Susie, I had a foreboding that the loathsome Culshaw would be able talk his way out from under it.
I spent the morning tidying the house and catching up on the laundry. To his eternal credit Conrad always insisted on doing his own, and he would have done Janet and wee Jonathan’s as well if I hadn’t drawn the line at that.
Janet was on edge, waiting for her next call from her mother, and maybe brooding over her illness. In the bright light of morning I regretted having told her about it, but I knew that if I’d lied I’d have been regretting it more. To get her out of her preoccupation, I proposed that Conrad take all three kids off for a morning at the water park in Ampuriabrava. The youngsters jumped at it, although I’m not sure he did.
I was at a table in La Terrassa d’Empuries, with an unusually placid Charlie at my feet, when Liam came up the slope and into the square. He was less immaculately dressed than the night before, but stood out more. It wasn’t the shorts, they sported Mr Tommy Hilfiger’s discreet badge; not the Croc flip-flops. No, it was the T-shirt. The GWA corporate logo was all over his chest and at its centre was his own image in wrestling gear, white sequinned tights and boots to match, with a shamrock logo on each one … not that anyone in the square, apart from me, would have linked the pouting poster beefcake to the guy who was sporting him.
I laughed as he approached. ‘Did you wear that in my honour,’ I asked, ‘or are you always so understated?’
He smiled. ‘No, this is for a special occasion. I stuck a couple in my bag for the trip … and yes, I admit it, in case you and I did meet up.’
There was a camera slung over his shoulder, a big, heavy Nikon digital SLR, with a zoom lens. As he seated himself, he placed it on the table.
‘That looks like a serious piece of kit,’ I remarked, as he asked the waiter for an orange juice, freshly squeezed. ‘Are you into photography now?’
‘Yeah, it’s become quite a serious hobby. More than a hobby, actually; I write the occasional magazine piece and if there’s a photograph needed, yes, I’m good enough to supply it myself.’ He glanced down at Charlie. ‘Nice dog. Is he your other minder?’
‘Him? He has enough trouble minding his manners,’ I retorted. ‘As a guard dog he’s all sound and no substance, I’m afraid. As for the minder-in-chief, this is one of his mornings for just being an ordinary kid.’
‘Rather than following his mother everywhere,’ he murmured, ‘like the kid in a poem I learned when I was one myself?’
I stared at him, genuinely surprised. ‘You’re full of surprises. You didn’t strike me as a man who would know his A.A. Milne.’
‘Some things stay with you for life.’
‘In that case you might recall that the poem those lines come from is called “Disobedience”. I wouldn’t dream of disobeying my boy.’
‘Not with him being a wing chun black belt.’
I frowned. ‘Are you making fun of him?’
‘Hell, no,’ Liam replied, hurriedly. ‘Nor am I underestimating him. I can’t imagine anything worse than getting my arse kicked by a thirteen-year-old.’
‘Twelve,’ I corrected him.
‘Bloody hell, Primavera, then he really is a big lad for his age.’
‘How about you?’ I asked. I knew hardly anything about the man. ‘No wives, okay, but any kids?’
‘None that have ever come looking for me.’ He chuckled. ‘If any do, they’ll probably be half Japanese. I did some time on the Bushido circuit when I was young, and I was a popular boy there. That’s where I really learned the business. Most of that stuff wasn’t worked.’ I peered at him, not understanding. ‘I mean it was for real,’ he explained. ‘Not rehearsed and staged.’
‘As in “fixed”, like the GWA and the rest?’
‘Sure,’ he agreed. ‘It has to be or the audiences would walk. In amateur Greco-Roman wrestling, the guys spend most of the time on the floor looking for submission holds, or trying to manoeuvre pins. Sports entertainment has to be more the latter than the former. Television demands it. That’s why there are more body-builders and second or third tier footballers on the rosters today than there are pure wrestlers or martial artists. And because so many of those guys have no skills or subtlety, it can be a dangerous business. If Tom ever gets romantic ideas about being a GWA superstar, talk him out of it.’
‘Don’t worry,’ I promised, ‘I will. Not that it’s likely. Tom’s a very gentle boy.’
Liam chuckled. ‘He didn’t look very gentle on the beach last night when he thought I was going to come on to you. Christ, Primavera, that took me back to the last century and a night in Newcastle.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I had a run-in with Tom’s father.’
Oz had told me that his and Liam’s relationship had a rocky beginning but he’d never gone into detail. ‘Oh yes?’ I murmured, intrigued.
‘I was a young arrogant son-of-a-bitch then, with a lot of the Belfast cockiness still in me. You probably won’t remember; they billed me as being from Dublin, but actually I’m Northern Irish. Oz had just joined the company, so we’d met, but just casually, at home base. I thought he was just another suit. Jeez, was I wrong.’
‘How did you find out?’
‘I made a pass at his wife.’
‘Ouch! What did he do?’
Liam reached up and pinched his nose, just below the big tinted specs. ‘He broke this. I’d never been hit so hard in my life, and I’d been hit plenty. That was the closest Everett Davis … remember, the great big boss man … ever came to firing me, and believe me, I gave him plenty of reasons. He made me apologise to Oz and to Jan, but he didn’t have to because I would have anyway. Oz taught me the error of my ways in that one encounter. I was full of myself, I thought I could do anything to anyone and get away with it. He showed me how wrong I was. He didn’t have any martial arts skills, but wow, upset anyone he cared about, and he was unstoppable.’ He frowned. ‘I’m glad your lad’s gentle, but I’ll tell you this; he’ll do whatever he has to, if it’s to protect you.’
‘Don’t say that,’ I murmured, ‘you’re scaring me.’
‘It’s nothing to be scared about. You must want him to be able to look after himself if you let him study wing chun.’
‘Yes,’ I conceded, ‘but it’s more for self-discipline than anything else.’
‘Yes, and turning the other cheek is fine in principle, but not when it’s someone else’s. How is he at cheek-turning, by the way?’
Immediately I thought of Duncan Culshaw, writhing on the deck beside Susie’s pool, moaning and clutching his nuts. ‘It’s maybe not what he does best,’ I chuckled.
‘What’s his belt grade?’ Liam asked.
‘Black, first dan.’
He whistled. ‘And he’s twelve? I di
dn’t get mine in karate till I was fourteen. Now, I’m sixth dan; I would love to train with him, while I’m here.’
I looked at hm. ‘Which brings me to … why are you here?’
‘I am genuinely on holiday,’ he replied, ‘properly, for the first time in years.’
‘Are you still in the business?’
‘Sports entertainment? No, my body took me out of that, finally, about seven years ago. That and your brother-in-law Miles, when he cast me in that film with Oz. I did a few more movies after that. The last one was two years ago. Since them I’ve done mostly TV, but not acting; a couple of documentaries, colour commentator on mixed martial arts events. I’ve even been on Celebrity Big Brother, in Ireland. When they ask you to do that, the subliminal message is that you should look for another line of work. That’s what I’ve been doing with the magazine articles, and I suppose the photography, if I can ever make myself good enough. Oh yeah,’ he added, ‘and I’m writing a book.’
I shuddered. Oh hell, I thought, not again. ‘An autobiography?’ I asked, quietly.
‘Absolutely not,’ he declared, putting me at ease instantly. ‘I respect the business I was in too much to take any liberties with it. Also I value my own privacy too much to tell stories about my friends,’ he paused, ‘alive or dead. That’s important to me, Primavera; there’s something in my personal history that I never want to revisit. So you see, if you tell me to fuck off and leave you alone, I’ll understand you completely.’
I recalled Oz telling me, back in the Glasgow days, that when Liam was a boy in Belfast, his father had been killed by Loyalist paramilitaries; and so I understood him completely.
‘I’m not going to do that,’ I told him. ‘You were one of Oz’s close friends, so how could I? But you’re right, I keep my profile as low as I can, so how did you know where to find us?’
‘Miles told me. I met him in Ireland a few months ago. He offered me a small acting gig in a TV series he’s co-producing, but I’d just escaped from the Big Brother slammer, and decided it was time to take a serious look at the rest of my life, so I declined with thanks. I told him I needed a break, some chill-out time. He suggested that I head out to Spain and look you up.’ He smiled. ‘He said you’d turned into the coolest person he’d ever met. I was glad to hear it, because the last time we met, out in Vegas, you were very fucked-up indeed.’
Jesus, yes! The very worst time of my life, and I had blanked out the fact that Liam had been a witness to it. I’d forgotten, completely.
‘So,’ he went on, ‘when I was ready I took him up on the first part of his suggestion, to come here. I wasn’t so sure about the second, though. I thought you might have decided to cut yourself off from the past and the likes of me. As a first step, I booked myself into that hotel at the end of the beach there, the Riomar, and went for a wander last night. And what do you do but wander into the place next door.’ He laughed, quietly. ‘I repeat, that is one considerable boy you’ve got there.’
‘Oh, I know it. And before you say it again, I will; he’s looking more like his dad with every year’s growth.’
‘How does that make you feel?’
‘Proud. I can’t think of a better model. But … there are some things I don’t want him to replicate.’
‘I think I know what you mean.’
I said nothing; I didn’t have to. In the silence a firework exploded, not far away. The San Juan festivities usually carry on into a second day, and sometimes beyond. Liam twitched in his seat, then shifted in it, casually; he’d been startled but wasn’t for letting it show.
‘You guard Tom’s privacy then?’ he continued.
‘Too right.’ I paused, recalling the principal threat to it. ‘If you’ve been doing magazine work, have you ever heard of a man called Duncan Culshaw?’
He frowned. ‘The surname’s familiar, but I don’t know why.’
‘Remember Susie Gantry, Oz’s third wife? Janet and wee Jonathan’s mother?’
‘Sure. To tell you the truth I’ve followed her business career since Oz died. I’ve even got a very small sentimental shareholding in her company. And of course,’ he exclaimed as he made the connection in his head, ‘her managing director’s a man named Culshaw.’
‘That’s right: Phil. Duncan’s his nephew, and, God help us, as of a couple of days ago, he’s Susie’s new husband.’
‘And you don’t approve?’ he murmured, with a small smile.
‘No, I bloody don’t. Liam, can I tell you something, in the strictest confidence, because it relates directly to Tom’s privacy.’
‘Of course you can.’
Looking back now, I’m not sure how I knew that I could trust the man on the basis of such a fragmented acquaintance, but I did. I told him the Duncan story from the start, from our first brief meeting when Susie had taken him on as her man about the house, through his surprise visit to me the year before, and its thwarting, finally bringing it up to date with Duncan’s reappearance in Monaco, and the Elvis Presley impersonator wedding ceremony.
‘The guy’s a blackmailer,’ he summarised, when I was finished, ‘and Susie’s married him?’
‘Yes, and now he’s threatening to use his new status to get even with me, and with Tom in the process. He’s out to blacken Oz’s name, Liam.’
‘The vicious bastard,’ he murmured, evenly.
‘Indeed.’
‘Are you worried about him and his threat?’
‘Yes, for lots of reasons. If he does start spreading stories about Oz, it won’t just be Tom who’s hurt. So will Janet and wee Jonathan. And the damage won’t just be emotional either. You’ve got to know that Oz has become a bit of a cult since he died, like James Dean, or John Lennon or Amy Winehouse. His DVD sales are massive, and the income from them goes into his estate. That belongs to the three kids. If that was affected they’d feel it most.’
‘Who manages the estate?’ he asked.
‘Susie and I do, between us.’
‘Amicably?’
‘Completely, until now. The last conversation she and I had probably put an end to that.’
‘There could be a further complication,’ Liam murmured, ‘if the new stepdaddy gets himself involved in running the kids’ affairs.’
I hadn’t thought about that one.
He grinned. ‘You could always marry someone,’ he suggested. ‘Somebody who would scare the shit out of him.’
I glared at him for an instant, then chuckled when I saw he’d been joking. ‘That would be a step too far. I’m like you; I’m not in the marrying game.’
‘Your sister is, though. That might be another way of scaring him off.’
‘Run that past me?’
‘Come on, Primavera, you must realise how much of a player your brother-in-law is. Miles Grayson isn’t just another guy who made films. When I first worked for him, in Edinburgh on that movie Oz was in … What was it called again?’
‘Skinner’s Rules,’ I reminded him. ‘Film of the book.’
‘That’s the one. Even then, I thought he was a fairly ordinary bloke. You know, there were no airs about him, didn’t push himself. I didn’t realise he’d been the guest of the last three presidents at White House dinners, and of two prime ministers at Number Ten, or that he’s got business interests worth several times as much as Susie’s construction group. And he’s Tom’s uncle … He still is, isn’t he? They haven’t got divorced or anything?’
‘No. He and Dawn are very happy; they’ll stay the course.’
‘In that case, if you appointed him as a trustee of the estate, to look after Tom’s interests …’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘You get my drift? He would fucking eat Mr Culshaw.’
‘Mmm.’ The possibility of involving Miles was one that had occurred to me during the listless night, but I had rejected it. ‘That would be a last resort, Liam,’ I told him. Another super-banger went off close to the village, but he ignored it. ‘I’m taking this personally,’ I added. ‘I’ve got teeth too.’
‘But you’ll have to be careful how you use them,’ he said, then frowned. ‘Listen,’ he went on, ‘if this guy’s a professional conman, as it seems he is, my guess is that you are not this man’s first target. I have an ex-girlfriend in London, a cop who’s now a fairly senior officer in the Met. I could tell her about this, and ask her to have a look at Mr Duncan Culshaw. If he has indeed done this before and he’s been caught, he’ll have a record. If he has, you could tip off Susie. And even if he hasn’t, my lady might turn up something about him, given time.’
‘There may not be too much of that,’ I said. His glasses had slipped a little; he peered at me over the top. ‘There’s something I didn’t tell you about Susie.’ I filled him in on her illness. ‘She’s finished her final round of therapy, and they’re making all the right noises.’
‘But?’
‘Yes, but: Liam, this is something I haven’t told a soul, and I’m only telling you because you have history with Susie and Oz, and I think you care about her. When I went to see her consultant in Monaco, he was more forthcoming than I expected, but he let something slip that I don’t think he meant to. He told me the type of leukaemia that she has, and he used its long name, thinking probably that it would mean nothing to me. But it did, because twenty years ago and more, I nursed someone with that condition. It’s one of the rarest and most aggressive forms of the disease that there is. Even with the very latest treatments, the kind that Susie’s been having in America, her chances of five-year survival are not good at all. Worse, there’s a real possibility that she might not see the end of this year. So you see, we may not have a lot of time to deal with Culshaw.’
‘Ouch,’ he whispered. ‘If she dies and they’re married …’
‘Then regardless of any will she leaves, he’d inherit a large chunk of her estate, and he’d be bound to be the children’s legal guardian.’
‘That does make it urgent.’ He took off the glasses, revealing warm blue eyes. ‘Tell me, Primavera,’ he asked, ‘apart from you, who knows about Susie’s illness?’
‘The Kents do, obviously.’ He looked at me, blankly; I had to explain who they were. ‘And there’s one other,’ I added. ‘When Susie was diagnosed, and she knew she’d be taking extended periods away from the business, she felt she had to tell her managing director … Phil Culshaw.’
Deadly Business Page 8
