by Roger Hurn
Then Delroy returned a couple of minutes later with the bag. It felt empty so I didn’t check inside it. I should have done. Anyway, money changed hands again. I was paying way over the odds for the stuff, but it was street capitalism in action and I figured Rachel would be grateful, so I was looking on it as an investment. But an investment in what I wasn’t quite sure.
‘Right, that’s it is it guys? I mean what happened to the purse?’
Chet fumbled inside his jacket pocket and produced it. It cost me a fiver. Naturally it was empty.
‘That Ellie had the money didn’t she? Dunno how much there was in it. She didn’t say.’
I shrugged. ‘Course she didn’t,’ I said. ‘Why would she? But, more to the point, did she happen to mention where she was going next?’
They both shook their heads. ‘But she’s probably gonna try and score now she’s got money,’ said Steve.
It made sense. I fixed them with a steely stare just for form’s sake. ‘OK, so who’s her dealer?’
‘Be that dude who lives on the Crossfields,’ Delroy replied.
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ added Chet. ‘His name’s Boomer or some such. You know the guy, Ryan. He works for DK.’
Somehow I wasn’t surprised. DK Kapoor ran just about every dodgy enterprise in the area whilst maintaining the fiction that he was a respectable businessman and community benefactor. DK was the guy who’d given me my first break in the PI game and he bankrolled the All Nations United football club. He wasn’t a fan, but it provided him with a pool of fit young blokes ready, willing and able to do his bidding. DK was not a man to cross, but I had a sinking feeling that, not for the first time, I was about to do exactly that.
Chapter 6
I headed back to the Crossfields. I wasn’t surprised to see that there were no ambulance or police cars there, but I was surprised when I saw Ellie come hurrying up behind me. I grabbed her arm as she passed me. She swore, but then she recognised me.
‘Hello Ellie. Had a busy night?’
She glared sullenly at me, her shifty little eyes as blank as a puddle of dirty water.
‘I think you’ve got something that belongs to a client of mine.’
She said nothing, but suddenly developed an interest in looking at her shoes.
‘It’s an amber necklace and she wants it back.’
Ellie shrugged. ‘I ain’t got it.’ She still didn’t look at me.
I sighed. ‘But you did have it, Ellie. It was in a bag that Ritchie stole earlier tonight.’ She carried on staring at her shoes. ‘OK, here’s what I think happened. Feel free to butt in at any point to add any details you think I’ve missed.’
She looked up and scowled at me. ‘Screw you.’
I didn’t let her attitude deflect me. ‘Ritchie brought the bag back here straight after the mugging, but it hadn’t gone well and he was shaken up so he probably knocked back a can of Super Strong and then slammed some heroin. I mean that’s what he did when he wanted to block the world out, right?’ I raised my eyebrows at her. She didn’t answer. ‘OK, then the stupid bastard had a bad reaction and started throwing up. With no one around to help him, he drowned in his own vomit.’ I paused to allow her to say something, but she didn’t. ‘Mind you, he can’t have been dead for more than a few minutes before you came back and found him. He was your boyfriend so why didn’t you call an ambulance?’
Ellie shrugged. ‘He was already dead so what was the point. Anyway, the bastard had taken the last of the smack and I needed a fix. I saw the bag and the necklace and stuff so I figured that I’d sell it and get the cash I needed.’
Her eyes were hard. I guess they always had been, but it was only now I noticed just how hard they were.
‘I was sad that Ritchie was dead, OK? But, you know, life goes on. I was gonna call the ambulance when I was sorted, alright?’
If there’s one thing I’ve learned about junkies it’s that they are selfish as hell and Ellie was no exception. Any sympathy I might have felt for her evaporated. ‘Classy move, Ellie,’ I sneered. ‘So who did you sell the necklace to?’
‘Alonzo.’
This was good news and bad news. Alonzo Kane was one of DK Kapoor’s charmers. He had an eye to the main chance and was up to his neck in any number of scams and dodgy deals. DK liked him because he was as smooth as an oil slick and could talk the money out of your wallet before you even knew it was gone. It was just my bad luck that he’d been prowling the streets of downtown Deptford when Ellie was trying to offload the necklace. Alonzo was smart enough to realise that it wasn’t plastic, but I doubted that he’d be up enough in the world of antiques to know what it really was or its true worth. I was guessing he’d be hanging on to it until he had a chance to have it valued. This meant it was safe enough for now, but I had to find Alonzo and make him an offer before he found out that something really special had dropped into his lap. Luckily, I had his number in my contacts. I could see Ellie was itching to go and meet her dealer and I was keen to give Alonzo a bell so I turned to walk away. But Ellie called after me and what she said stopped me in my tracks.
‘Hey, Ryan, why didn’t you call an ambulance for Ritchie if you’re such a classy guy? Oh, lemme see. You had more important things to do than worry about a dead junkie. Nice! So, I guess we’re not so different after all, eh?’
I said nothing. There wasn’t anything I could say. So I just walked away from her, but her words stayed with me like an unwanted house guest.
Chapter 7
My call to Alonzo went straight to voicemail. I cranked some goodwill-to-all-men Christmas cheer into my voice, but I knew it was going to be an uphill struggle trying to kid a kidder like Alonzo Kane.
‘Hi Lonz, it’s Ryan. You’ve got something that belongs to a client of mine. It’s her gran’s amber necklace. It was stolen from her tonight. It’s not worth all that, but it does have sentimental value so hang on to it mate and I’ll make sure you don’t lose out. It is Christmas after all. Give me a bell as soon as and we can do a deal.’
Overall I was pretty pleased with my night’s work. OK, so maybe the needle on my moral compass had wobbled a bit where Ritchie was concerned, but what was done was done and there was no sense in beating myself up about it. Now all I wanted to do was to see just how grateful Rachel would be when I got back to the office with the swag and the news that I knew who had the necklace. All right, so it was going to cost her, but I was confident I’d be able to have it back in her possession by Boxing Day at the latest. If Rachel didn’t overwhelm me with gratitude then I would definitely pack in the private investigations lark and join a monastery.
As it happened, when I walked in Rachel was doing a very British thing, she was making tea in what Carly and I laughingly call the kitchen area. She turned and raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows at me. I held up her bag and her face lit up brighter than the lights on the tree in Trafalgar Square. I cursed myself mentally for raising her hopes too high. ‘I’ve got it all – except the necklace.’
Her expression didn’t change, but she blinked hard.
‘Don’t worry, though,’ I said quickly. ‘It’s all fine. I know who has it and he’s the type of guy who’ll always do a deal. I’ve left him a message on his mobile and he’ll be in touch as soon as he picks it up I can guarantee you that.’
She had a quick rummage in her bag.
‘Hey, it’s all there, right?’
She glanced up and grinned. ‘Yes, it’s all here, thanks.’ Then she put the bag down, sipped her tea and looked at me as she leaned back against the sink.
‘So the junkie doesn’t have it anymore?’
I shook my head. I didn’t see any need to mention what had happened to Ritchie. ‘Nah, he’d already sold the bag on when I found him, but I followed the trail to a couple of local faces and, Bob’s your uncle, here I am with your bag and the name and number of the guy who bought the necklace from them. You’ll have Boney’s love gift back by tomorrow night at the latest.’
Her voice was as warm and soft as damask silk and all I wanted to do was go and put my arms round her and tell her that everything was going to be fine. What I actually did was nearly knock her mug of tea out of her hand as I attempted to give her the bag back. Half of it spilled onto the floor and splashed over her shoes. I mumbled an apology and found myself down on my knees with a grubby tissue trying to mop tea from her patent leather pumps. She burst out giggling and pulled me back up.
‘Stop it you idiot,’ she said and I realised her mouth was about 6 inches away from mine. I guess my breath was a winning combination of lager, pork scratchings and crisps, but hers was as sweet as the tea she’d been trying to drink moments before. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and she leaned forward and kissed me lightly on the lips. For a nano second I felt a twinge of disloyalty to Carly, but then the image of her and Tyrone under the mistletoe stamped on my guilt like an elephant in hobnailed boots. I stared soulfully into her big green eyes but, before I could return the kiss, she pulled back and rubbed her face with her hands. Suddenly, the fire was out and she looked exhausted.
‘Are you sure this man will call?’
I nodded. ‘It’s as sure as death and taxes. The guy lives to wheel and deal and he knows I’m mates with some heavy guys who’ll make his life very uncomfortable if he tries to give me the run-around.’
Actually, I was banking on my relationship with DK Kapoor, the Deptford Godfather, to make Alonzo play ball. DK and I no longer saw eye to eye, but it wasn’t common knowledge. In fact, as far as blokes like Alonzo were concerned, we were still bosom buddies and although Alonzo wouldn’t think twice about playing silly buggers with me, he would hesitate to do anything that might piss DK off. But Rachel wasn’t to be easily placated.
‘Why can’t we go to his house?’ she said. ‘If he’s not there we can always wait. I know you think you know this guy, and I’m not doubting you for a second because you’ve been absolutely amazing tonight, but I won’t be able to rest easy until I’ve got that necklace back.’
There was a throb of anxiety in her voice that tugged at my heart strings, but the trouble was there really was nothing more we could do until Alonzo made contact. I shrugged my shoulders apologetically.
‘Sorry, hun. Alzonzo’s the kind of geezer whose home is, to quote the song, wherever he lays his hat. He may have a bolt hole somewhere but, if he has, I don’t know where it is.’ I pulled a face. I saw it reflected in Rachel’s eyes. I wish I hadn’t. Jealousy is so not a good look. Not that I was jealous, I just wondered why women always seemed to fall for Alonzo’s patter so easily when they must have known in their hearts he was a wrong ‘un. But then we all still vote for politicians thinking it’ll make a difference, don’t we? I gave up pondering the human condition in favour of giving a cynical little laugh. ‘He tends to live with his various lady friends and he changes them as often as he changes his Calvin Kleins.’
Rachel digested this news and then her shoulders sagged. ‘Christ I’m tired. Do you mind if I crash here for the night?’
I shook my head. ‘No way am I having that,’ I said firmly. ‘We’ll grab a taxi and go to my place. You’re welcome to sleep in the spare room.’
Rachel cocked her head and said, ‘But won’t your wife mind you bringing a strange woman home on Christmas Eve?’
I grinned at her. ‘Technically it’s Christmas Day and has been for about two hours now. And no, she won’t mind, seeing as she’s gone to her sister’s in Manchester leaving me on my tod.’
She gave me a crooked smile that could have meant anything, but then she gathered up her bag and said, ‘So, what are we waiting for then?’
Despite myself, my heart lurched and I began to think that maybe this Christmas wasn’t going to be such a complete turkey after all.
Chapter 8
We picked up a cab from J & M’s Car Service in the High Street. Mohammed was driving. He was a guy I was on friendly terms with. He wasn’t bothered about working over Christmas, but not because of his religion, he just didn’t fancy being at home with his missus and his five kids. I was passing the J & M office one day when they’d all turned up and, if the ear bashing he was getting was typical of life at Chez Begum, then I can’t say I blamed him. Anyway, Mo gave Rachel the once over and winked at me. ‘New client, eh, Ryan?’
I nodded.
‘Nice work if you can get it,’ he murmured. Then his heavily bearded mush split into a large grin. ‘You need an extra detective anytime you let me know.’
I promised him I would and then we climbed into the cab and Mo and I talked football all the way to my gaff in Eltham.
My house is a modest two bedroom mid terrace, but the neighbours on both sides are busy people and have no interest in my comings and goings. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if they were at home for Christmas but, even if they were, I knew no curtains were going to be twitching as I ushered Rachel in through the front door.
Now I’d got Rachel home I wasn’t sure what to do next so I offered her a drink. I was playing for time because, as you may have noticed, when it comes to women I fancy I act like the kind of bloke who’d have trouble scoring even if he was in Hugh Heffner’s jacuzzi. I don’t know why that is. I can pull women I don’t give a stuff about no problem, but somehow I always end up saying or doing the wrong thing when it’s a girl who matters. Yes, I know I’m married, but these days Sarah and me are like housemates who’ve grown sick of the sight of each other, but neither has the means to move out. So I didn’t feel guilty about wanting to get up close and personal with Rachel because of my wife – no, it was Carly my conscience kept tapping me on the shoulder and blithering on about. Though, for all I knew, she was tucked up in bed with Tyrone so I told my conscience to take a hike. It wasn’t best pleased and started to argue but then Rachel kissed me hard on the lips and that shut it up better than a strip of double sided gaffer tape.
Now I’m not the kind of bloke who kisses and tells and anyway, sex without love is pretty meaningless, but as Woody Allen says, as meaningless experiences go it’s pretty damn good. And it was.
Chapter 9
A few hours later we were sitting at my kitchen table. I was tucking into the kind of fry up that was a guaranteed artery hardener but, after the night I’d had, I needed the calories. Rachel was sipping black coffee and watching me. Then my mobile rang. It was Alonzo. I gave Rachel the thumbs up and grinned.
‘Merry Christmas, ‘Lonz,’ I burbled. ‘Thanks for getting back to me, mate. I’ve got my client here and she’s grateful to you for rescuing her gran’s old necklace. When can I swing by and pick it up?’
Alzono chuckled. ‘Whoa, Ryan, you’re being a bit premature there, geezer.’
I didn’t like the sound of this, but I kept my voice friendly. ‘Hey, what are you on about, ‘Lonz? If it’s money you’re after then my client is more than prepared to give you a nice little Christmas box in return for the necklace.’
Alzono chuckled some more. He was seriously getting on my nerves.
‘Well, that’s always good to know, Ryan, but the thing is, I’ve already sold it on.’
My heart nose-dived to a point somewhere way below my sternum. ‘You’re kidding me!’
‘No I’m not. I figured it must be a bit special when I heard all that old toffee you gave me about it being your client’s granny’s tatty old necklace that wasn’t worth shit so I nipped round to DK’s place this morning and he gave it the once over.’
I didn’t say a word, but now my heart was down in my stomach along with half a pound of undigested bacon, sausage and egg. I felt sick as a dog.
Alonzo didn’t seem to need me to contribute to the conversation. ‘The thing is, Ry, that DK really rated the necklace, ‘specially when he saw the inscriptions on the beads. Now I was never that interested in history at school, but DK tells me that this Napoleon guy was a big deal back in the day and Josephine was his top squeeze. You know, they
had some huge romance like Romeo and Juliet or whatever. Now, apparently, DK and his missus have had a bit of a tiff or some such and she’s gone off in a huff to her relatives in Southall. So DK reckons this necklace is just what he needs to get her back on side when she comes home.’
I still didn’t speak, but Alonzo was having a real chucklefest.
‘Hey, who’d’ve thought a guy like DK would get grief from his old lady? I mean, I get earache from my mum, but not my women.’ There was a slight pause as he stopped chortling and added in a thoughtful and slightly predatory tone, ‘Do you think maybe DK is slipping or getting soft in his old age?’
I snorted at the very idea. ‘No way, Alonzo, and I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if DK ever got to hear that you were thinking that way about him.’
OK, so I was being a bit snidey. I had no intention of dropping Alonzo in it with DK Kapoor but I was pissed off. Dealing with a cheesy wannabe gangster like Alonzo was one thing, but dealing with DK was something else entirely. The guy exuded charm when he wanted to, but he had the moral sensibilities of a tyrannosaurus and was just as deadly. Though to be fair, a T-Rex only killed to eat – DK killed for all sorts of reasons. And no, I didn’t think he was slipping or getting soft and neither did I think he’d bought the necklace as a kiss and make up gift for his wife. I’d met the formidable Mrs Kapoor once before and she was definitely not the kind of lady to go all trembly over a knocked off necklace – whatever its history. But I wasn’t about to share any of this with Alonzo. Anyway, he had other things on his mind.
‘Hey, c’mon Ry. I wasn’t dissing DK. I wouldn’t do that.’ Alzonzo sounded rattled as hell so I pinched a bit harder.
‘Well, I dunno, ‘Lonz, it sounded pretty disrespectful to me. But I could forget I heard you say it if you give me the heads up on how much DK gave you for the necklace.’
