Playing Around

by Gilda O'Neill

  Despite the gag, Lukey managed to let out quite a scream as David touched the white hot blade to his throat.

  David grinned. ‘Now, now Lukey. Just think yourself lucky Mad Albert’s otherwise disposed.’

  ‘I’m telling you, Bill, he knows I’m coming. I phoned and spoke to Bobby. Less than twenty minutes ago.’ Angie was standing at the top of the stairs, in the shabby hallway outside the outer office at Greek Street, totally frustrated in her attempts to get in to see David.

  ‘George,’ she pleaded, standing on tip-toes and peering over Bill’s shoulder. ‘You’ll let me go through, won’t you?’

  ‘Look, darling. We’re working ten phones between us in here. And if we don’t do it right, we’re going to have some very unhappy punters. Now, do as Bill says and go home. I’ll give Dave a message for you later.’

  ‘Can’t you tell him I’m here?’

  Bill rolled his eyes. ‘For Christ sake, George, stick a note under Dave’s door. Anything to stop her giving me this flaming earache.’

  ‘I’m trying to settle bets here, Bill.’

  ‘George.’

  Within seconds of George doing as he was told, the door to the inner office opened, and Bobby appeared.

  Angie’s smile of relief was short-lived. It was now Bobby who was determined to bar her way.

  ‘Dave’s busy.’

  ‘Tell him I’ll meet him.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘At the Canvas.’

  ‘No. He’s gonna be a while. He said you was to get back to the flat.’

  ‘But I can’t. It’s Albert.’

  ‘He’s gone.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘This afternoon.’

  ‘But how do you know—’

  Angie shut up abruptly as she was sure she heard a cry, or a scream, coming from the inner office.

  ‘David?’ she called, trying to push her way past Bobby and into the office.

  But he wouldn’t move. ‘Leave. Now.’

  As another scream, and it was definitely a scream, tore the air, Bobby slammed the door in Angie’s face.

  She turned and ran down the stairs and out into the street as fast as her kitten heels would let her.

  Chapter 15

  DAVID STOOD IN front of the wardrobe mirror adjusting his tie, and watching Angie’s reflection as she sat up in bed smoking.

  ‘You don’t look very happy, Angel.’

  ‘I want to ask you something.’

  ‘This is about Albert.’ David turned round and held out his hands in supplication. ‘It was all a misunderstanding. I didn’t know he’d upset you. If I had, I’d never have let him stay here. Soon as I realized, I moved him out.’ He lied easily.

  Angie dropped her chin. ‘I heard something yesterday. At the office.’

  ‘How d’you mean?’

  ‘In Greek Street. It sounded like someone being hurt.’

  David frowned as if trying to work out what she could possibly be talking about. Then, slowly, he smiled. ‘That must have been Bobby.’

  ‘No. Bobby shut me out of the office. There was nothing wrong with him.’

  ‘Daft. I don’t mean Bobby was hollering. I mean it was his fault. It was the telly. He kept it on after we’d finished watching the racing results. He’s like a little kid, that feller. Loves his telly. It was some old gangster film or other. Edward G., George Raft. You know.’

  ‘Humphrey Bogart?’ she said flatly.

  ‘Yeah, that’s right, Angel. Humphrey Bogart.’ He kneeled down on the bed, pulled her to him and kissed her.

  ‘I don’t have to go to the office right away, now do I?’ he said, throwing his jacket on the floor, ripping off his tie, and then pushing Angie back on to the pillows. ‘I am the boss, after all.’

  A few hours later, Sonia was standing in the outer office in Greek Street, surprised to hear David’s voice coming from the other side of the door – surprised because there had been no sign of his car outside – but totally dumbfounded when she heard what he was actually saying. She couldn’t believe he was telling all these things to a moron like Bobby Sykes.

  Still it was no skin off her nose if he was being so reckless. He could rot in hell for all she cared. And all his disgusting thugs along with him.

  Growing bored with David’s talk about Lukey Gold, Albert Roper, and the market for tabs of LSD, Sonia stared down at her nails. She really had to get a manicure, her hands were looking as if they belonged to a washerwoman.

  But suddenly she lost all interest in her beauty regime. Did she really hear him say that?

  She pressed her ear flat to the door that connected the inner and outer offices door, oblivious of the rough, splintered paint.

  ‘And according to Jeff, when he came to do his check on the premises – this was in the early hours of this morning, mind, Dave – the copper was hanging around here again. It must have been him who pulled out all that stuff on Mad Albert. Good job we got him out of the way again.’

  David wasn’t usually one to show if anything was getting to him, he knew it made you vulnerable, but Bobby distinctly saw him flinch. He was getting through to him at last, making him take this seriously.

  ‘The same copper who turned up at Bill and George’s places yesterday afternoon. Jameson. He’s a young DC. Right nosy bastard.’

  David’s chest was rising and falling with the effort of keeping his temper. Bobby who hardly ever opened his trap was going on like some bloody old woman. He’d give him two more minutes …

  ‘It was all right when Marshall was still about.’ Bobby was desperate to get him to see sense. ‘He looked out for you. But now he’s gone, this little berk’s off the lead. Thinks he’s the flipping Masked Avenger or someone. Asking all sorts of questions, he is. George’s wife went potty, him going through their house. Nosing at everything. She was on the blower to my Maureen leading off alarming that he’d spoiled her Sunday dinner he was there that long.’

  Despite it being only midday, David reached for the whisky bottle and two glasses that he kept on top of the tatty filing cabinet in the corner of the office. He poured two large measures.

  ‘I don’t want to talk out of hand, Dave, but why didn’t you contract it out? There would have been no link between you then. No trail. Nothing. Why the amateur bit?’

  ‘Bob, you’ve been my mate since we was at school together. So don’t make me lose my temper with you, eh?’ David threw the whole measure of Scotch down his throat and then refilled his glass to the brim. ‘I killed the little fucker because he pushed me too far. Got it?’

  Sonia’s eyebrows shot up. That was why he had his car tucked away out of sight. He was lying low. He’d done a sodding murder, and the police were on to him.

  She walked over to the grotty partner’s desk where Bill and George did whatever it was they did in the outer office, and picked up one of the bank of telephones. She could only hear the low drone of conversation now from the other side of the door, but she had heard more than enough for her purposes.

  When Sonia had finished on the telephone, she took her mirror from her handbag, checked her lipstick and hair, then stood up, smoothed the creases from her skirt, lifted her chin, and marched boldly into David’s office.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’

  David’s shocked expression gladdened Sonia’s heart. ‘Really, David, your mouth is exactly like a sewer. And drinking whisky at this time of day.’ She shook her head disapprovingly. ‘If you’re not careful you’ll end up—’

  ‘Cut the shit, Sonia. What do you want?’

  ‘I was looking for Mikey, but when I heard what you two had to say for yourselves, it was far more interesting standing out there listening.’

  David leaped to his feet. ‘Bob, where’s Bill and George?’

  Sonia perched on the edge of the table that served as her husband’s desk. ‘I mentioned – in jest you understand – that there was a police car downstairs, and they should get lost if they knew what was goo
d for them.’ She smiled coldly. ‘It seemed to work. They shot down that fire escape—’

  ‘Sonia, don’t start winding me up. Just spit out what you’ve got to say.’

  ‘I heard it all, David. Everything. And I thought I’d let you know that I’ve called the police and passed it all on.’

  David sneered. ‘Yeah, course you did. I can see how heartbroken you are.’

  ‘Why should I be heartbroken? It’s you that’s in trouble, darling.’

  Bobby was getting worried. This could all go very wrong.

  ‘Sonia, why don’t you piss off?’

  ‘What? And miss all the fun?’

  ‘If listening to us talking business is fun, they stay. If not, go and find yourself another bloke. Another little toe-rag like that ponce, Mikey. If one exists. And when you do, I’ll have him as well.’

  Bobby ran his hand over his bald head. ‘Dave, she’s probably bluffing about what she heard.’

  Sonia twisted round to Bobby. ‘Shut up you.’ Then back to David. ‘You’ll have him?’

  David laughed. ‘Yeah. I’ll have him all right.’

  ‘Mikey.’ She lunged at David’s face with her nails. ‘You’ve killed Mikey.’

  He swatted her away. ‘For Christ’s sake, woman.’

  Completely thrown off balance, Sonia somehow managed to launch herself forward, and began pummelling David’s chest with her fists. ‘I loved him, you animal.’ Tears were spilling down her no longer immaculately made-up face. ‘Really loved him.’

  David for a fleeting moment actually looked concerned. ‘Don’t carry on.’

  ‘I have grassed you.’ She was shrieking, out of control. ‘I told them all about David Fuller and his respectable business interests.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid, Son.’

  ‘They’ll be here soon. Then you’ll see who’s stupid.’

  David grabbed her by the wrists, and held her still, trying to work out what to do next. If she was telling the truth, where he would be most exposed?

  ‘Bob, call Angel, tell her to disappear, in case they turn up at the flat.’

  As Bobby dialled Flood Street, Sonia writhed around in David’s grasp, frantically trying to break away from him, but he was too strong, he held on to her as if she was no more than a bothersome child.

  ‘No reply, Dave.’

  ‘Sonia, you are beginning to annoy me.’ He let go of one of her wrists and smacked her, hard, around the side of her head. ‘Will you just keep fucking still?’

  Sonia felt as if she had been hit by a train. Her head lolled back, her ears rang and her eyes rolled.

  Bobby stepped forward, this was all they needed, him losing it and doing her in as well.

  ‘Dave, sit down and finish your drink, mate. Let me take her.’

  David handed her over like an unwanted parcel.

  Still stunned from the blow and wanting only for the pain in her head to stop, Sonia had no choice but to let Bobby sit her down on a chair by the filing cabinet.

  ‘Don’t worry, Dave. You’re too careful. There’s nothing around here that can tell them anything.’

  ‘Depends what this silly whore’s told them.’ David took another gulp of Scotch, all the while staring at Sonia slumped in the corner. ‘Better check Jeff didn’t leave any pills around over the weekend.’

  ‘He knows the place has to be cleaned up after Saturday nights.’

  ‘Bob. Just do it, will you? Just phone him.’

  Bobby was about to do as he was told, when they heard the door to the outer office opening. Both men’s heads jerked up as if obeying the instructions of a starting pistol.

  ‘Fuck it. Sonia must have left it open. I’m gonna kill her.’

  Bobby, with surprising agility for his size, sprang across the room and grabbed David by the arm.

  What neither of the men expected to see next was Angie, in a bright red trouser suit, walking in from the outer office, with a broad smile on her face, a basket over one arm, and a tartan travelling rug over the other, looking for all the world like a sexy Red Riding Hood about to go down to the woods.

  She stood in the doorway, the threshold between the two offices.

  ‘I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you, David, but,’ she held up the basket and the rug, ‘I know I was a bit silly this morning. I thought I could make it up to you. And to thank you for moving Albert. We could go into Soho Square for a picnic. I’ve got all sorts of nice stuff.’

  Sonia, her fury at this latest development somehow giving her the strength to rise from the chair, staggered unsteadily to her feet.

  Leaning against the filing cabinet, she pointed accusingly at Angie. ‘You’ve got all sorts of nice stuff have you, sweetheart? How very touching.’

  Angie blinked disbelievingly at the tear- and make-up-streaked face of the woman who was spitting such venom at her. Who was she? Why was she so familiar?

  ‘Sonia. Shut your mouth.’ David’s voice was low, angry. If Bobby hadn’t still been holding him back he’d have shut it for her.

  Now Angie was really confused. Sonia? But they were divorced. Why should she care? And she had expected someone older. Much older.

  Sonia moved slowly towards her. ‘Does she know that I know all about her, David? And about all your other women? And do they know about her? Do you’ – she jabbed Angie in the chest – ‘know I’m David’s wife?’

  ‘David’s divorced.’

  ‘Is he now?’ She stuck out her left hand, flashing a massive platinum and diamond ring. ‘That’s news to me.’

  ‘I said, shut it!’ David finally erupted. Shoving Bobby out of his way, he threw himself at Sonia, sending her crashing back into the heavy wooden filing cabinet.

  Angie stared at Sonia crumpled to the floor, with blood pouring from her mouth and one of her ears. ‘A boyfriend didn’t buy me my watch,’ she whispered.

  David touched Sonia with the toe of his shoe. She didn’t move.

  ‘My nan did. For my birthday.’

  David turned to Angie as if he had never set eyes on her before. ‘What?’

  ‘You’re my first boyfriend, David. I didn’t know you were married when I slept with you. Then you said you were divorced. You are divorced, aren’t you?’

  ‘Bob, get her out of here. Stick her in a cab or something.’

  Bobby took Angie, too dazed to resist, by the arm, and began steering her towards the door, but the sound of police sirens and tyres screeching to a halt in the street below, stopped him in his tracks.

  ‘Shit, she really did call the law. Come on, Dave, move yourself.’ Bobby looked about him for inspiration. ‘Through the back and along the alley. We can get to the motors that way.’

  David said nothing, he just gave Sonia a departing, vicious kick in the side, and followed Bobby, as he dragged Angie, now sobbing pitifully, through to the fire escape.

  David jumped into his Jaguar and sped off, without a glance or a word in Angie’s direction. Bobby pushed her, sprawling, into the back seat of his Humber, and, after a squealing U-turn, drove off in the opposite direction to his boss.

  As soon as she stopped carrying on and drawing attention to herself, he would get rid of the kid, drop her off somewhere – anywhere – then get himself home and make sure Maureen was all right.

  *

  It was almost three o’clock in the afternoon before Bobby finally thought it was safe to let Angie out of his car. He had been driving round for two and a half bloody hours since they’d bolted down the fire escape, when all he wanted to do was get home to check on Maureen. But he couldn’t have risked letting an hysterical bird loose on the streets.

  He could only hope that no one had got hold of Dave.

  ‘Honestly, Bobby.’ Angie was doing her best to appear calm, unperturbed by what she had seen. What she had seen the man she had thought she was in love with do to a woman. To his wife.

  ‘I’m fine. Please. Leave me here.’

  ‘Where’ll you go?’

  ‘My nan�
��s. She only lives—’ She could have bitten off her tongue. ‘—nearby.’

  Bobby had to hand it to her, she was looking out for herself better than he would have credited. ‘Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna follow you. I’ve got plans of me own.’ He pulled into the kerb. ‘Need any money?’

  Angie shook her head, but Bobby pressed a fiver into her hand anyway. She wasn’t a bad kid. Just a bit too innocent for her own good. ‘Go on, clear off. And, Angel.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Mind you keep your trap shut.’

  Angie banged on her nan’s front door for a good five minutes before a kitchen window along the balcony was pushed open, and Doris Barker stuck out her head.

  ‘What’s all that sodding row?’ she hollered.

  Angie stepped back from the door so Doris could see her. ‘It’s only me, Mrs Barker.’

  ‘Hello, love. I thought it was them bloody kids from downstairs again.’

  ‘Have you seen Nan?’

  Doris considered her words. ‘She had to nip out.’

  ‘Do you know when she’ll be back?’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Thanks anyway.’

  Doris could see she was upset. ‘You all right, love?’

  ‘Yeah. I’m fine. I’ve got to go. If you see Nan, tell her I’ll be back, will you?’

  ‘Course. But you’re sure you don’t want to come in and wait? Have a nice cuppa tea?’

  ‘No. Thanks all the same.’

  Doris pulled the window closed and went over to the stove to boil the kettle. Something was going on, and she’d lay good money that that little creep Jameson was at the root of it. She just hoped that a soft touch like Sarah could handle it. Whatever it was.

  By the time Angie sat down in her mum’s kitchen, she was exhausted; the mixture of fear, weeping, and simple, undiluted terror at what she had witnessed had drained her.

  Vi, who was in her usual position in the kitchen – in front of the mirror over the sink, touching up her make-up – didn’t take much notice, putting her daughter’s pale complexion and red eyes down to too much burning the candle at both ends. She rather liked the fact that someone so young could look so wiped out. She didn’t even notice that Angie was trembling as if she were suffering from a tropical fever.