Intimate Strangers

by Susan Lewis

  Going into the kitchen to take charge of the coffee, Laurie said, ‘Did Rachel say if she’s seen Elliot?’

  ‘No. She just asked how you were, and if it would be OK to come over.’

  Laurie continued pouring the coffee, put a few plates in the dishwasher, wiped down the counter tops, then suddenly stopped, as the thought of the honeymoon swept in from nowhere and took her breath clean away. She looked at Sherry. ‘I can’t do this,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry, I just can’t. He’s got to come back. Please tell him, he has to.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Sherry assured her. ‘Just breathe. Let the feelings happen and breathe. It’ll pass.’

  Laurie was shaking her head. ‘I can’t …’

  ‘Yes you can. Now come on. Breathe in to the pain, out with joy. In to the pain, out with joy.’

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘Just stay there,’ she told Laurie. ‘Keep breathing.’

  As she opened the door Sherry’s fingers were crossed that it was who she was expecting. Finding herself confronting an elegant, older woman with the same vivid blue eyes as Laurie’s, she said a silent prayer of thanks and smiled. ‘Come in,’ she said. ‘She’s through there.’

  At the sound of footsteps Laurie looked up from behind the kitchen counter.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ her mother said.

  Laurie’s eyes were wide with shock. ‘Mum,’ she murmured. ‘What – what are you doing here?’

  ‘Sherry called me,’ her mother answered.

  Laurie’s eyes moved to Sherry. For a moment, she hardly knew what she was thinking, until she realized that Sherry had read the situation perfectly, for her mother was the very person she needed to see right now. She started to speak, but the words were swallowed into a sob. ‘I’m sorry,’ she choked. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t want to do this to you, not again …’

  ‘Sssh, sssh,’ her mother soothed, going to take her in her arms. ‘Don’t you worry about me. Or Dad. We’ll be fine. You just let us worry about you and how we’re going to sort this out,’ and catching Sherry’s eye she smiled her thanks.

  Close to tears herself, Sherry left quietly, and went to summon the lift. She’d wait downstairs for Rachel, explain what had happened, then they’d probably go and have coffee and discuss what they could do to help Laurie through this, and what might really be going on with Elliot.

  As she reached the lobby her mobile started to ring. Looking at the readout she saw it was Barry Davidson and clicked on.

  ‘Sherry?’ he said. ‘I got Stan Bright here, Laurie’s private detective. He needs a word.’

  ‘With me?’ she said, surprised. ‘OK. Put him on.’

  A moment later Stan’s gruff voice came down the line. ‘I’m not going to beat about the bush,’ he told her, ‘it’s not my style. Someone’s having you watched, and it don’t take no genius to work out who.’

  Sherry’s heart gave a thud of unease.

  Stan was still talking. ‘… so you better presume they know who you really are by now. Your cover was too thin, girl. It won’t have taken the likes of them more than five minutes to crack it.’

  Apart from feeling naïve, Sherry was horribly unnerved. ‘What about Laurie?’ she asked. ‘Is she being watched too?’

  ‘I don’t think so. It was you what went round there, so it’s you they’re interested in. You should watch your step, especially once they find out their workshop’s been broken into.’

  Sherry’s eyes widened. ‘How do you know that?’ she said.

  ‘Because it was me. I went in last night to take a look around. There weren’t no sign of the women we’re looking for, but I reckon they was there, locked away in an upstairs room, probably up until a couple of days ago.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘There was some old mattresses, a veil sort of thing, like an Indian woman would wear, a hairbrush, some female stuff, you know, the monthly kind, and a couple of sewing machines what are in working order.’

  Sherry took a moment to digest this, then sounding gratifyingly firm, at least to herself, she said, ‘OK, we need to meet. Laurie won’t be able to make it, but I’ll get the keys to her office and see you there in an hour. Barry too if he’s free.’

  As she rang off she could feel the adrenalin kicking into her system. She hated to be opportunistic, but there was no denying this could be a perfect chance to prove herself, not only to Laurie, but to Elliot too. Whether either of them would notice, being in such emotional turmoil, was debatable. However, equally, if not more important, was finding those women, for after meeting Karima Ghosh, and learning even what little she had about Eddie Cribbs, there was no doubt in her mind that they desperately needed to be found.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘HER NAME’S SHERRY MacElvoy, known to her friends as Sherry Mac,’ the smart middle-aged woman stated. ‘She lives on the second floor of Dunbar Wharf, in Narrow Street, no husband or boyfriend, no family at all, in fact, except an aunt who lives in Somerset. She’s British by birth, but grew up in California, which is what gives her an American accent. The California connection is extremely interesting, and could possibly prove useful should she become too troublesome. You’ll find the details on page two of the dossier. She writes under a dozen or more pseudonyms for a dozen or more magazines and newspapers, and has never, according to our investigations, worked in the fashion world at any time in her life.’

  Eddie Cribbs was sitting at the head of the conference table that stretched across the south side of his executive suite. With him were his right-hand men, Perry Boon and Gentle George, along with Julian Godfrey, the firm’s senior solicitor, Will Grossman, the chief accountant, and Jenny Cox, the firm’s Head of Data Accumulation and Analysis. It was Jenny, with her trace of a Mancunian accent, who’d just read aloud from the report one of her hand-picked team had delivered that morning.

  ‘We can also now confirm,’ Jenny added, ‘that there is a connection to Laurie Forbes. She was followed to Laurie Forbes’s flat in Butler’s Wharf two nights ago, where she remained until just after Laurie’s mother arrived the following morning. After that she met with Rachel Hendon, widow of Tim Hendon and ex-ITV news producer, while Laurie left with her mother to go to Windsor, where she still is. As you may already have read in the papers, Elliot Russell has apparently called off their wedding, which, as far as we’re concerned, could have the twin advantage of removing him from any investigation she’s involved in, as well as possibly putting her out of action for a while.’

  ‘Or she could bury herself in work,’ Perry pointed out. ‘Which might make her worse.’

  Jenny nodded. ‘We’ll be keeping an eye on her,’ she assured him. ‘For the moment though, our chief concern is Sherry MacElvoy. She doesn’t have Laurie’s reputation for digging out the truth, but that doesn’t mean she’s not capable, in fact we should presume that she is.’

  ‘Why’s she writing under pseudonyms?’ Eddie wanted to know. ‘What’s the matter with using her own name?’

  ‘I don’t have an answer for that yet, but we’re checking into it.’

  Eddie sniffed, and sat back in his chair. ‘So,’ he said, taking off his glasses and wiping them with the end of his tie, ‘since we don’t want to get involved in offing a member of the press and all the shit that would entail, we’ve either got to find a way of convincing them they’re up a dead-end street, or we’re going to need someone on their team to keep us abreast of what our new friend, Sherry MacDonalds, is up to.’ He put his glasses back on and cast his eyes around.

  ‘Trying to talk them out of it never works,’ Julian Godfrey said.

  ‘Never,’ Eddie agreed. ‘So, who have we got who can help us?’

  ‘To date, Sherry MacElvoy’s always been a one-man band,’ Jenny told him, ‘and Laurie Forbes’s team is too tight to penetrate.’

  ‘What about the Barry Davidson fellow?’ Perry ventured. ‘He’s the one who tipped the press off in the first place. He’s bound to be working on this wit
h them, so we just persuade him it’ll be in his best interests to keep us informed of developments.’

  Eddie gave that some consideration, then glanced towards his desk as his secretary’s voice came over the intercom.

  ‘Your three o’clock’s arrived, Eddie,’ she told him. ‘I’ve put her in the flat.’

  He frowned and looked at Perry for enlightenment.

  ‘Miss Burrows?’ Perry guessed.

  Still nothing.

  ‘From the club?’

  ‘Oh yeah, right.’ He leaned back and shouted towards the speaker. ‘I haven’t got much time,’ he told his secretary, ‘so tell her to have everything ready.’

  ‘Will do,’ came the reply.

  Jenny was typing fast on her laptop. ‘I’m just calling up our profile on this Barry Davidson,’ she informed Eddie. ‘He’s a bit of a do-gooder around the East End, so I know we’ve got something.’

  Eddie nodded. ‘Right. So how are we going to persuade him to switch teams, is what I want to know. Is he married?’

  ‘Just give me a sec,’ Jenny replied. A beat later the information was there. ‘Not married,’ she answered, scanning it quickly. ‘But he does have a girlfriend, who works for the council, and a mother who lives in Bethnal Green.’

  ‘Father? Brothers?’

  ‘Nothing here.’

  ‘Does the mother live alone?’

  ‘Yes.’ It was the kind of information that had an accumulation priority.

  ‘Then she’s our ticket. Get someone to turn her place over, scare her a bit, then drop in for a chat with Sonny Jim. He’ll get the message.’ He turned to Perry. ‘Has the doctor been taken care of?’

  Perry nodded.

  ‘Have we found a replacement yet?’

  ‘I think so. We’ll just have to rein in our headmaster and his chums, until it’s properly fixed.’

  Eddie turned to his accountant and lawyer. ‘I hear you used a few of the boobies for a party the other night. Any good?’

  ‘Not bad,’ Julian replied.

  ‘I hope you paid the going rate, it’s a good little earner, that one, and we don’t want to be cheating ourselves now, do we?’

  ‘I gave us a discount,’ Will confessed. ‘Not a big one, but it generated some interest among the guests for future use, so it should pay off nicely.’

  Appearing pleased with that, Eddie moved on to other business. ‘Right, let’s have the low-down on how the crack boys are doing, after the cock-up with the last shipment.’

  ‘Everything seems to be getting back on track,’ Perry answered, ‘pardon the pun. Not too big a loss. Nothing we can’t recover from.’

  ‘When’s the next one coming in?’

  ‘Friday. By plane. We’ve got the usual operators on standby at Stansted.’

  ‘Quantities. Value. Expected profit,’ Eddie prompted.

  Will passed him several sheets full of figures and began going through them, while the others reshuffled their papers ready to move on to their next items of business. It was Perry who had details of the human cargo due to arrive at its destination in less than ten days, and he knew already that Eddie wasn’t going to like what he had to report on that. Apparently what should have started out as one thousand bodies on the good ship Tonna Maru had, he’d now been informed, been closer to thirteen hundred, because some tosser in a turban – crew? captain? – had thought they could make a few bob for themselves. Now, due to overcrowding, lack of food, insanitary conditions, etcetera, etcetera, they had twenty or more stiffs on board that had to be disposed of before the cargo could land in Hamburg.

  It was past four o’clock by the time Eddie brought the meeting to a close, by which time his expression was a dark, brooding study of a man with too much on his plate. But when had it ever not been like that? There were always problems, they always got sorted, he’d just feel a bit happier in himself if this press thing could be got rid of.

  ‘This Sherry Whatever-her-name-is,’ he said, turning back as he was about to leave.

  ‘MacElvoy,’ Jenny supplied.

  ‘You mentioned she had an aunt.’

  ‘In Somerset.’

  He nodded. ‘Might be worth bearing in mind,’ he said.

  In the private apartment just along the hall, in accordance with instructions, Cheryl was undressed and ready to go the minute Eddie came in. The longest he’d kept her waiting so far was three and a half hours, which was why she’d brought the latest copies of Hello! and OK! with her today, and a Walkman so she could practise her routine. Two weeks it had taken her to be promoted from waitress to dancer, which was a record in the club’s history, and had been so successful in putting Suzy-Woo’s nose out of joint that if the stupid cow didn’t stop bitching and trying to stir up trouble, Cheryl was going to work on Eddie to get rid of her altogether.

  Yawning, she shifted her position on the bed and carried on reading the paper his secretary had brought in a while ago. It was an early edition of the Standard, which she didn’t normally go in for, but she was right into this story about the reporter, Laurie Forbes, who’d been dumped by her boyfriend, another reporter, six weeks before they were supposed to get married. Poor cow. Must be broken-hearted, getting elbowed like that, and then to go and have it gossiped about in all the papers …

  Hearing the door open she gasped and quickly covered herself with the paper.

  Eddie grinned.

  She looked up at him from under her lashes, and coyly let the paper go so he could see her boobs. He loved it when she acted shy like this, and she was getting quite good at it.

  ‘Sorry I kept you waiting,’ he said, closing the door.

  ‘Oh, that’s all right,’ she assured him. ‘I don’t mind.’

  As he came over to the bed he was loosening his tie.

  She kept her head down, and arms pressed into the sides of her boobs as though attempting to cover them, but only succeeding in pushing them together and making them look bigger than ever.

  ‘Trevor tells me you’re turning into a good little dancer,’ he said, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his shoes.

  ‘I’m glad he thinks so,’ she answered softly.

  ‘Do you enjoy it?’

  She hesitated. ‘Yes, but …’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Come on, out with it.’

  ‘Well, it’s the other girls …’

  ‘Take no notice of them. You’re my girl, so that gives you special status. You just make sure you don’t go upsetting the punters, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, I’d never do that,’ she promised.

  ‘And I don’t want you going with them either.’ He thrust a hand between her legs. ‘This is all mine, right? You can dance your little ass off, shake your tits about, do whatever the hell you like, but no-one gets to touch, except me. You got that?’

  She nodded and gazed at him with big, girlie eyes. He’d laid the rules down before, but she liked hearing them again. It reaffirmed her special status, as he called it.

  ‘There is just one little thing though,’ she said in a tiny voice.

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Well, because the other girls get to go with the punters, it means they make a lot more than me, and …’

  He started to laugh. ‘You’re a foxy bint,’ he told her, chucking her under the chin. ‘Find out how much the top earner’s getting and we’ll double it. How’s that?’

  Her eyes opened wide. ‘Oh, Eddie, Mr Cribbs,’ she gushed.

  ‘You can call me Eddie.’ Then, after thinking about it, ‘I quite like the Mr Cribbs too, so you can keep it.’ He tilted her face up and turned it from side to side to get a good look. ‘I can see straight through you, I hope you know that,’ he told her. ‘But I like you, and I’m always generous with the women I like.’

  She looked back at him with wide, innocent eyes.

  He grinned. ‘That’s my girl. Now, let’s put the paper away and …’ He broke off as he noticed the picture of L
aurie Forbes staring out of the open pages. ‘What the …?’ he growled. ‘Is that woman fucking haunting me, or what?’

  Confused, Cheryl looked down at the paper, then started as he grabbed it and bunched it into a ball. ‘On your back, girl,’ he commanded, tossing the paper on to the floor, ‘and let’s get on with what you’re here for.’

  ‘Honestly, I think it’s a great idea,’ Sherry was saying to Laurie on the phone. ‘Even if you only go for a few days, the break is bound to help, and I can manage things here.’

  ‘But I feel like I’m leaving you in the lurch,’ Laurie protested, sounding very much as though she had a cold, though Sherry knew better. ‘It should be my responsibility …’

  ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll cope. You just go and relax with Rhona on that sunny Greek island.’

  Laurie fell silent, then in a slightly wavering voice she began going over all the reasons again why she didn’t want to go to Hydra.

  Sherry glanced at her watch. Normally she’d be happy to talk as long as Laurie needed to, but this evening she couldn’t. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of why – Nick was due in less than two hours, and she still had so much to do she was afraid she wouldn’t be ready in time. However, she knew what it was like to be in Laurie’s shoes, so she couldn’t just cut her off.

  ‘I don’t want to be that far from him,’ Laurie was saying. ‘I know it doesn’t make any sense, but he can’t be feeling good about any of this, and if he does want to talk …’

  ‘Have you heard from him yet?’ Sherry asked.

  ‘No, he still won’t return my calls. I don’t understand it. It’s just not like him to behave like this.’

  ‘Has Rachel seen him?’

  ‘No, but he’s still at Chris’s flat, over the gallery.’

  Sherry was shaking her head in bemusement. ‘What the heck’s going on with him?’ she murmured, almost to herself. ‘It makes me wonder if his mind’s as made up as he said, hiding away like this. It could be he needed to clear the decks completely in order to think straight.’