by Roger Hurn
She turned to walk away, but then glanced back over her shoulder at me. ‘Oh, and by the way Mr Kyd, you are no longer in my employ so please don’t bother submitting an invoice.’
I didn’t care about the invoice, but I was worried by what she’d just said about Rachel being in for a rude awakening. I was guessing that Hapgood had heard just as much as Maureen and had also put two and two together. Now it was only a matter of time before he or Maureen tracked Rachel down and neither wished her well. The problem was, unless she called me, I couldn’t warn her that, if she didn’t give the necklace back pronto, the shit was going to hit the fan for her big-time.
Chapter 17
I didn’t think I’d sleep a wink that night, but I went out like a light the second my head hit the pillow. I had bad dreams though so my subconscious didn’t let me off lightly. I was in the toy store from Hell and a Santa Suited DK was threatening me with a .22 water pistol. But when he squeezed the trigger it made the same sound as my mobile’s ring tone. I woke up, groped for the phone and held it against my head. A torrent of words poured into my ear.
‘Ryan, it’s me, Rachel. Well, I’m not really Rachel, I’m Natasha. Natasha Milford, Sally Shapley’s cousin.’
I was still groggy from sleep, but I remembered who Sally Shapley was. She was Minnie Shapley’s great granddaughter and the owner of the amber necklace.
I sat up fast and felt the blood drain from my head and the room start to swirl. But then Natasha brought me right back to my senses.
‘Ryan I’m scared. I’ve had a couple of weird calls, but when I answered the phone there was no one there. And now I can’t be sure, but think there’s someone in my back garden.’
‘Listen to me, Natasha, if you’re scared hang up on me and call the police right now!’ That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
‘No, Ryan, I need you here, not the police! It’ll be someone after the necklace and I can’t tell the police that. You see, I’ve loved that necklace since I was a kid and it belongs in our family. My bloody stupid cousin had no right to put it up for auction. OK, so she’s got the family name, but she’s never given a toss about the necklace. All she wants is the money she’ll get for it.’ The contempt in her voice was as corrosive as sulphuric acid. ‘Listen, Ryan, I know it sounds crazy, but I always knew it was my destiny to own that necklace because when I held it and touched it I could hear Minnie whispering in my ear telling me that one day it would be mine. But, even when we were kids, Sally used to drive me crazy by rubbing my nose in the fact that as soon as Minnie’s necklace was hers she was going to sell it. Then one day she took it out of the safe in her mum and dad’s bedroom and dangled it in front of me and crowed that it would never be mine. God, she made me so angry that I snapped and hit her so hard with the jewel box that I gashed her stupid head open and knocked her out.’
She went silent for a second and I heard her draw a deep breath as she relived the moment from way back. ‘The bitch deserved it and I’m only sorry she woke up again. But at least I gave her an ugly scar right across her forehead.’
Natasha was scaring me now. In telling her story, her voice had taken on a deranged quality that I’d heard once before from a woman I’d nicked who’d murdered her husband’s bit on the side. She couldn’t see that she’d done anything wrong either, but she still ended up in Rampton High Security Hospital.
‘Anyway, my Aunt went ballistic when she saw what I’d done to her darling daughter. She was horrible to me and demanded that my mum take me to a shrink. She kept screaming that I’d always had an unhealthy fixation with the necklace and now I’d finally flipped. Naturally, my mum told her to get stuffed and from that day on our two families had nothing more to do with each other.’ She paused and then said, ‘Actually, mum did take me to see a really nice counsellor and he said he understood why I was so angry, but that I had to learn to manage my anger. And I have, Ryan, it’s taken me years, but I really have. But then last year my aunt died and her body wasn’t even cold before that bloody bitch Sally contacted me and told me she’d inherited the necklace and the first thing she was going to do after cremating her mum was put it up for auction. Then she laughed and put the phone down. Jesus, Ryan, all that anger just exploded from deep inside me like a volcano. I wanted to kill Sally. I wanted to put the necklace round her throat and use it to squeeze the life out of her!’ Her voice was screechy with an anger that scalded my ear. ‘But all I could do was throw my bloody phone at the wall. It shattered, but it should have been her head.’
She fell silent for a second and when she spoke again the screech and heat had vanished and were replaced by a sly conniving tone. ‘But then I remembered what the doctor said and I thought, Hey Nat, don’t get mad, get even. So I did some digging on Millibrand’s and came up with my plan.’ She giggled and it made me shiver like someone had just walked over my grave.
‘You know that sleezy bastard Robert Hapgood just couldn’t help himself when I came on to him. And the fact that he was into bondage was a bonus. It just proved to me that my great grandmother Minnie approved of what I was doing. Gosh, it was all so easy. He had no idea who I was, but I used the wig and coloured contact lenses anyway just to be on the safe side.’
Suddenly her voice became concerned. ‘Oh, I hope you don’t think I actually did any of that sick sex stuff with him, Ryan, because I didn’t. But he wanted me to be a dominatrix so I went along with it. I even wore the outfit he had ready. He said he had a thing for being dominated by icy cold blonde women.’ She gave a sharp bark of a laugh. ‘If only he knew, eh Ryan!’
I said nothing. I was thinking about what we’d done together and about the identity of the previous wearer of the dominatrix outfit. It was a tangled web and I was pretty much stuck in the middle of it.
But Natasha hadn’t finished. ‘He thought me demanding to know where he kept the Auction House keys and the combination to the safe was all part of the game we were playing – but it wasn’t. I wanted the necklace for real.’
I could hear the lust in her voice, but it wasn’t for any man.
‘Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I only took his credit card to muddy the waters and make him think I was a common thief. I was never going to use it, Ryan, I think you know me well enough to realise that.’
Actually, I realised I didn’t know her at all other than that she was barking mad and needed some serious help.
‘I do,’ I said, lying through my teeth. ‘Listen Nat, tell me where you are and I’ll come straight away.’
She told me her address and I assured her I’d be there as fast as I could. Then I hung up, splashed cold water on my face, gargled with mouth wash and threw on some clothes. Natasha was living in a cottage in some godforsaken backwater in North Kent. It was going to take me an age to locate it, but now I had the address straight from the horse’s mouth, I hoped I’d stolen a march on the opposition. I was pretty sure that neither Hapgood nor Maureen would have been able to have run Natasha to earth just yet so the pressure had eased a little.
I figured she was jumpy because she was as mad as a hatter. All right, so that wasn’t very PC of me, but at least I was trying to help her. I didn’t really believe there was anyone in her back garden and I’d lost count of the number of silent phone calls I’d had in my time. They were nothing to worry about. They were always from people trying to sell you something.
My thinking was that I’d persuade her to let me take the necklace for safe-keeping. Then I’d give it back to Hapgood. When that was sorted I’d go back to Natasha to explain why I had no other choice but to act as I had and then I’d try and get her to seek professional help. I knew an excellent shrink from my DPG days who’d be fantastic if only Natasha would agree to see her. I reckoned there were two chances of that happening – fat chance and no chance – but I couldn’t see what else I could do.
Chapter 18
I opened my front door, stepped out briskly and bumped into Van den Bruel and his henchman. I recovered fast. ‘Ah
, Christophe, you’ve saved me a trip. I was going to try and track you down today on behalf of Robert Hapgood.’ I smiled brightly at him. ‘He’s the bloke who runs Millibrand’s Auction House. That’s the one Josephine’s necklace was stolen from.’
Van den Bruel arched his eyebrows slightly. ‘And why would he want to talk to me?’
I chuckled. ‘Well, don’t shoot the messenger, but he thinks you may be the bloke who hired the thief who pinched the amber necklace from his place and he wants the chance to do a deal with you for its safe return.’
Van den Bruel pursed his lips. ‘Does he now?’
I nodded. ‘He does indeed.’
The big Belgian now pulled his lips back from his teeth into the distant cousin of a smile. ‘But we both know that’s bollocks, don’t we Mr Kyd?’
I hunched my shoulders in a passable imitation of a Gallic shrug. ‘Do we?’
‘We do. Well, I know that I have no idea of the identity of the thief and, although Mr DK Kapoor seems to believe you have been duped by the woman who stole the necklace, I don’t. You fed him a crock of shit as to how she pulled the wool over your eyes.’
I started to protest, but his raised his hand to silence me.
‘No, I don’t blame you, Mr Kyd. DK Kapoor threatened you with violence.’
‘He did more than threaten violence – I’ve got the bruises to prove it.’
Van den Bruel blinked slowly like a lizard. ‘I have no doubt that you do. But I am a more subtle negotiator than DK. I know a man will say almost anything when subjected to thuggish brutality – though it’s rarely the truth. It is the victim’s way of fighting back with the only weapon he has. On the other hand, it has been my experience that every man has his price. The only question that need concern us, Mr Kyd, is what is yours?’
I laughed. ‘The way things are going for me this Christmas, I’d say a pint of lager and a scotch egg would just about cover it.’
Van den Bruel didn’t laugh. ‘Let’s take this inside, Mr Kyd.’
Right on cue, his muscleman shoved me in the chest and I stumbled backwards into the house. They followed me in and Van den Bruel pulled the door shut.
‘I’m prepared to pay a quarter of a million pounds for the necklace and the letter. I am also willing to give you a 5 per cent finder’s fee for facilitating the deal.’
I whistled softly. ‘That’s an awful lot of money for an amber necklace. And twelve and a half grand would certainly be enough to buy my services but, like I told you, Mr Van den Bruel, I can’t help you because I don’t know who the thief is any more than you do.’
He frowned then said, ‘How much has Ms Berry offered you?’
I sighed. ‘Funnily enough she didn’t mention a figure, but it didn’t matter, I told her the same as I’ve just told you: I don’t have the foggiest who the thief is.’
Van den Bruel tugged on his earlobe. ‘Then you leave me no choice, Mr Kyd. I have tried to be reasonable, but you are obviously not susceptible to reason. So, like DK, I shall use violence on you, but not a random beating. I shall subject you to very specific and scientifically applied violence designed to cause you the maximum amount of pain. And I will keep on applying it until you break.’ His teeth were back on display. ‘I think we will soon have the truth from you.’
I tried to turn and run but the Van den Bruel’s boy grabbed me and hauled me back. He spun me round and had me in a choke hold. That I could live with, but what terrified me was the heavy duty pair of pliers that Van den Bruel was holding. He clicked the pincers together loudly.
‘Christmas is a fine time for cracking nuts, don’t you agree, Mr Kyd?’
Chapter 19
I felt sick to my stomach. I could see that Van den Bruel meant business and I wondered how long I could hold out before I gave him Natasha. I struggled, but all Van den Bruel’s guy did was apply increased pressure on my windpipe and cut off my air supply. Van den Bruel gave a brief shake of his head and the goon eased his grip. I choked and gasped for breath while the bloody Belgian bastard waved the pliers in front of my eyes.
‘Last chance, Mr Kyd. Or shall I get cracking?’
He laughed at his own pun. He had me, quite literally, by the throat. I stared at him through watery eyes. ‘Fuck off!’
OK, it wasn’t exactly Oscar Wilde, but then Oscar never had a sadistic Belgian about to do his bollocks irreparable injury with a pair of pliers. As it was I knew the game was up and I was just trying to make myself feel better before I caved in and told him what he wanted to know. If you think you’d have done better or paid the price to keep Natasha safe, then good for you. I just hope you never have to put it to the test.
As I opened my gob to spill my guts, I heard a car sound system blasting out hip hop at maximum volume. It was followed by the screech of tyres in the road outside. Car doors slammed and I heard a bunch of familiar voices all talking over each other. Then my front door was shoved open and a guy shouted, ‘Yo’ Ryan, you ready?’
Van den Bruel was shaken. ‘Who the Hell is that?’ he hissed.
I grinned at him. ‘It sounds like the cavalry to me.’
My heart was singing like King’s College Choir at midnight mass on Christmas Eve. In all the mayhem, I’d completely forgotten that I was supposed to referee the annual Boxing Day Morning match between my old team, All Nations United and their deadly rivals, the New Cross Globetrotters. It took place in nearby Avery Hill Park and was meant to be a “friendly” game when grudges were forgotten and hatchets buried. The problem was stopping the guys of both sides bringing their hatchets with them and burying them in their opponents’ heads. Now the aptly nicknamed Jackson “The Ogre” Rollins, the All Nations captain was standing in my front room with Mikey O, Shine and Mr Mos, three of his trusted lieutenants, at his back. He took in the situation at a glance.
‘Hey, Ry, you in trouble here, bro?’
Thanks to the choke hold I couldn’t answer. But Van den Bruel did. ‘Now you listen to me,’ he said. But nobody did listen to him because Jackson backhanded him so hard that his teeth came through his lip and he staggered back against the wall dropping the pliers as he did so.
‘Shut the fuck up,’ Jackson growled. ‘Ain’t nobody asking you to speak.’
With commendable loyalty in the face of overwhelming odds, Van den Bruel’s henchman shoved me aside and launched himself at Jackson. They grappled with each other for a few seconds before Jackson smacked his forehead down on the Belgian guy’s nose in a trade mark Deptford kiss. There was a horrible crunch as the cartilage caved in and blood fountained everywhere. As the bloke reeled like a drunken sailor, Jackson stepped back and Mikey O, Shine and Mr Mos took over and tore the Belgian guy apart like a pack of wolves on a wounded stag. It was brief but brutal and not at all scientific. I had Jackson call them off before they did the guy permanent damage.
Van den Bruel held a handkerchief to his mouth to try and stem the bleeding, but his eyes held a strange cocktail of fury and fear. His man was on all fours dry heaving. I figured he’d had a lot more hurt than just his pride, but that was an occupational risk for guys like him so I wasn’t shedding any tears on his behalf.
I looked at Van den Bruel and shrugged. ‘The sad thing is, Christophe, I was telling you the truth. I can’t broker a deal for you. My client played me for a sucker and now she’s gone. I’m way out of pocket on this caper and my Christmas has been ruined. So now I’ll thank you to take your man out of my house before he throws up all over my carpet. Sorry I couldn’t help you, but please will you now sod off ‘cos I’ve had it up to here with people calling me a liar and wanting to hurt me.’
Van den Bruel helped his man to his feet. ‘Pray that our paths never cross again, Kyd,’ he snarled. ‘Because things will go very badly for you if they do.’
‘Hey, guy, that cuts two ways. We catch you on Ryan’s manor, you’re fuckin’ dead.’
I didn’t feel I needed to add to Jackson’s parting shot. I just hoped it would be enough to make Van d
en Bruel believe it wouldn’t be worth his while to come back for revenge. As I say, I’m ever the optimist.
When Van den Bruel and his man had limped away, I tapped fists with the lads and thanked them for getting me out of a hole. ‘But now I’ve got to go, guys. I’m in the middle of a case and …’
I faltered. Jackson was giving me the thousand yard stare. If I’d have been standing on a frozen lake the ice beneath my feet would have started to crack.
‘We just saved your sorry ass, Ryan. You owe us.’
‘That’s right, bro,’ added Shine. ‘You gotta ref the match.’
‘Yeah, ain’t no way those batty boys is gonna escape the beating we gonna give ‘em,’ said Mr Mos.
Mikey O punched my arm. ‘Hey, Sherlock, you can go fight crime when we finish kicking their asses.’
Jackson didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. I was receiving his message loud and clear. A favour for a favour was the code and no matter how much I needed to be gone, I knew I had to do what they expected of me. I ran back upstairs and grabbed my tracksuit and boots then drove to the park.
After 90 minutes of simmering aggression, the game ended in the kind of brawl that would’ve gained approving nods from the participants in a medieval melee. But I’d kept my side of the bargain so I gave up blowing my acme thunderer whistle, legged it to the car park and floored the pedal of my old Mazda. My big worry was that Natasha wasn’t answering her phone, so I was hoping against hope that I wasn’t too late.
Chapter 20
After losing my way a few times, I finally tracked down the cottage where Natasha was living. It was tucked away down a leafy lane on its own small patch of land. As I pulled up outside the front gate I noticed that Robert Hapgood’s natty motor was already parked up on the grass verge.
