“Let’s get it nice and straight,” he said, stretching out his long legs. “This piece wants to be laid… right?” When Burnett nodded, he went on, “Once I’ve given it to her, she’ll want more right?” Again Burnett nodded. “Then she has to pay for it… you want me to squeeze her dry… right?”
“Yes… that is the situation.”
“You will pay me a hundred nicker for doing the job and what I get out of her I keep… right?”
Burnett inclined his head. Dealing with a man like this made him feel slightly soiled.
Jackson leaned back in his chair and stared at Burnett. “Well, for God’s sake, and they call me delinquent!”
Burnett’s eyes turned frosty.
“Do you want the job or don’t you?”
They stared at each other for a long moment, then Daz shrugged.
“Oh sure… what have I to lose? What’s this piece like?”
“Plain but adequate,” Burnett returned, unconsciously using the phrase in the Michelin Guide to France to describe a third rate hotel.
“Okay, so where do I find her?”
Burnett gave him Natalie’s home and business addresses typed on a blank card.
“I want quick action.”
Daz grinned.
“If you say she’s thirsting for it, she’ll have it and once she has had it from me, she’ll want it again and again.” Daz regarded Burnett, his eyes calculating. “The cops won’t come into this?”
“There’s no question of that.”
“Well, if they do, I’ll squeal. I’m not mad about this job.” Burnett stared coldly at him.
“But you will do it?”
Daz shrugged.
“I said I would, didn’t I?”
“Get as much money out of her as you can. I want her to be in an impossible financial position. I want her to be up to her eyes in debt.”
Daz dragged himself to his feet.
“How about some money now… I’m skint.”
“When you deliver,” Burnett said curtly and waved a dismissal.
In the bitter cold of a January night, Natalie Norman found her rear off-side tyre was flat. She had been working late, and was now looking forward to getting home and into a hot bath. She had parked her Austin-Mini, as she always did in a cul-de-sac off Park Lane. She stood shivering in the biting wind while she looked helplessly at the flat tyre, when out of the shadows, came a tall, lean young man, wearing a lamb skin lined short coat, his hands thrust deeply into the pockets of his black hipsters.
Daz had learned where Natalie parked her car, and he had let the air out of the tyre some fifty minutes ago. He had stood in a nearby doorway, freezing and cursing until he saw her come to the car. This was his first glimpse of her. He brightened considerably as the street light lit up her long, slim legs. The least he had expected was some woman with legs that could support a grand piano.
He waited, watching her. She moved into the full light and he grimaced. Good body, but so obviously a plain, sex-starved spinster with as much personality as a drowned cat.
Boy! he thought. Will I have to use my imagination to get her laid!
“You in trouble, miss?” he said. “Can I give you a hand?”
Natalie was startled by his sudden appearance. She looked helplessly to right and left, but there was no one in the cul-de-sac except themselves.
“I have a puncture,” she said nervously. “It’s all right. I’ll get a taxi… thank you.”
He moved under the street light so she could see him. They regarded each other, and she felt her heart beat quicken. He was lean and tall and like a beautiful young animal, she thought. His hair, curling to his collar, excited her. She felt a rush of blood through her: something that often happened when she saw really masculine men on the street, but her pale, expressionless face revealed nothing of the feeling that was moving through her body.
“I’ll fix it,” Daz said. “You get in the car, miss. Get out of the cold. Phew! It’s cold, isn’t it?”
“Yes… but please don’t bother. I’ll take a taxi.”
“Hop in… I’ll fix it… won’t take me a jiff.”
She unlocked the car door and got gratefully into the little car, closing the door. She watched his movements. He was very quick. Under ten minutes, he came to the car window, wiping his hands on the seat of his hipsters.
“All fixed, miss… you can get off.”
She looked up at him through the open car window. He leaned forward, staring down at her. Was there something of promise in his young eyes? she wondered. Her heart was jumping about like freshly landed trout.
“Can’t I give you a lift?”
She smiled and when she smiled, he decided she wasn’t all that bad to look at.
“You wouldn’t be going near Knightsbridge?” he asked, knowing that was where she lived.
“Oh yes… Church Street.”
“Well, a lift would be nice.”
He went around the car and slid in beside her. His shoulder touched her and she felt as if she had received an electric shock.
She was furious with herself because her hand was shaking so violently she couldn’t get the key into the ignition lock.
“You’re cold. Like me to drive, miss?”
Silently, she handed him the keys and he slid out of the car as she moved over to the passenger’s seat. Her skirt got rucked up on the gear lever. She hesitated, then knowing her legs and slim thighs were her only attractive features, she let her skirt remain as it was.
“I’m frozen,” she forced herself to say as Daz got under the driving wheel.
“Me too… it’s perishing.”
She expected him to drive fast and flashily, but he didn’t. He drove well, keeping just under the 30 m.p.h. limit and with expert confidence that surprised her.
“Do you live in Knightsbridge?” she ventured.
“Who… me?” He laughed. “Nothing so posh. I live in a rat hole in Parson’s Green. I’m out of work. Whenever I get down to my last quid I like to walk around Knightsbridge and window shop. I imagine what I would buy from Harrods if I had a mass of lolly.”
She looked at his handsome profile, and again she experienced this devastating pang of desire.
“But why are you out of work?” she asked. “People need never be out of work these days.”
“I’ve been ill. I’ve got a weak lung… plays up sometimes… then I get laid off. I’ve been laid off now for two weeks.” Daz thought: The lies I can tell. I almost believe this myself. Then feeling he was laying it on a little too thick, he added, “I’ll get something next week, I’m feeling fine now.”
Natalie digested all this.
“I’m glad.”
He turned and gave her a smile that had earned him his nick name. She felt sloppily weak as her desire for him mounted.
“You don’t have to worry about me, miss. No one, including me, worries about me.” He paused, then went on, “You’re out late, aren’t you?”
“I often work late.”
“Church Street you said?”
They were now driving by Knightsbridge Underground Station.
“Yes.”
“You live on your own?”
Oh yes, Natalie thought bitterly. Alone… always alone.
“Yes.”
Daz’s eyes moved to her legs, exposed to above the knee. Poor cow! he thought. This is going to be easy.
“Well, tots of people live on their own,” he said. “When they get back from work, they shut themselves in their dreary rooms and that’s it until they go out to work the next morning. That’s why I like to walk the streets at night. Staying in my room on my own gives me the horrors.”
“I can understand that.” Then as he began to drive up Church Street, she went on, “This is the place… on the right.”
Well here’s the crunch, he thought. Is she going to invite me in?
“You mean this big block here?”
“Yes. You go down the ramp to the garag
e.” She hesitated then said in a small voice, “I expect you would like a wash after changing that tyre. I think you deserve a drink too.”
He hid a grin. He had felt it would be easy, but not quite this easy.
“Yes. I could do with a wash,” and he drove the car down into the big lighted garage.
They went up in the lift to the fourth floor. Neither of them looked at each other on the way up nor spoke.
She unlocked her front door and led him into the small, bright sitting-room. “Do take your coat off.” Her voice was very unsteady.
He looked around.
“This is real nice.”
She came to know nice was his favourite word.
“The bathroom’s through there.”
She left him in the bathroom and she took off her coat and scarf, feeling desire for him raging through her. She was still standing in the middle of the room, white and shaking, when he came out of the bathroom. He knew at once there would be no trouble.
We don’t know each other. I’m Daz Jackson.”
“I’m Natalie Norman.”
“Nice name… Natalie… I dig for that.”
They stared at each other, then he moved close to her and slid his arms around her.
She shivered as his hands moved down her thin back. For one brief moment, her subconscious mechanism fought to repulse him, but her need was too strong.
She was only dimly aware of being carried into the bedroom. She relaxed on the bed moving a little from side to side as he stripped off her clothes. Then she gave herself up to his animal lust.
Daz Jackson opened his eyes and let out a long, slow sigh. Well, for shouting aloud! he thought as he looked up at the white ceiling. Who would have believed it. It’s the best I’ve ever had!
He turned on his side and looked at Natalie who lay on her back, her hands covering her small breasts, sleeping. He regarded her body. Good, pity about that face. He gave her a gentle prod in the ribs.
“Wake up! I’m hungry. You got any food?”
She stirred and looked up at him, her eyes glazed with a satisfaction she had never known before. She felt as if a hidden door she had long been searching for had suddenly opened and the sun and the breeze and the sound of the sea had come into the barren, dark cave in which she had lived for so long.
“Food… of course.” She sat up, swung her legs off the bed and snatched up a wrap. “Stay there . .. I’ll get you something. Would you like a drink… I have only gin.”
He regarded her. Her anxiety to please, the soft look in her eyes and her eager trembling made her a bore.
“Just grub.”
She ran into the kitchen. He waited a moment, then got off the bed and struggled into his clothes. He saw by the bedside clock that the time was 02.25 hrs. He listened, smelling bacon frying, then he looked around the small neat room. He looked beyond the doorway, across the sitting-room and saw her standing by the stove in the kitchen, her back to him. Working quickly, he went through her chest of drawers. In the top drawer he found a gold cigarette case, a gold lighter and a small jewel box which contained a string of pearls and two rings of little value, but he took all of them, dropping them into his pocket. Then he lounged into the sitting-room and stood in the kitchen doorway.
“Smells nice,” he said.
She turned and smiled at him.
“Can you eat more than four eggs?”
“That’ll be fine.”
She hurried past him and quickly laid the table.
“Aren’t you eating?” he asked, seeing she had set only one place.
“No… it’s ready. Sit down.”
He ate hungrily. Well, she certainly could cook eggs and bacon, he thought as he sipped the tea she had poured him. Pity there weren’t chips and tomato ketchup, but you can’t expect everything.
He was aware of her, sitting on the settee, watching him. There
was that soft look in her eyes that told him she was hooked. When he had finished, he sat back, wiping his mouth on the paper serviette she had provided.
“Nice,” he said. “Really nice.”
“You were hungry, weren’t you?”
He stared directly at her.
“Yes… and so were you.”
Blood stained her face and she looked away.
“Nothing to turn hot about.” He smiled his dazzling smile. “It’s nature. You liked it, didn’t you? I’ll tell you something: you were good… really good.”
“Please don’t talk about it. I’ve never done it before.”
“So what? You have to start sometime.” He got to his feet. “Well, I must be taking off.” He paused. “Thanks for everything. It was real nice… all of it.”
He watched her hands turn into fists.
“Wouldn’t you like to — to stay?” she said breathlessly. “It’s such a horrid night. You can stay if you like.”
He shook his head.
“Got to get back to my pad.” He began to move slowly to the front door.
“I suppose we — we could see each other again,” she said, her dark eyes desperate.
Here it is, he thought. The hook.
“You never know. Things happen, don’t they? So long,” and before she realized he was really going, he had gone.
The front door slammed. The sound was like a disastrous clap of thunder inside her head.
It wasn’t until the following evening that she discovered the loss of her cigarette case and lighter, given to her by Shalik as a birthday present, and her pieces of jewellery. The discovery shocked her and she knew at once who had taken them. Her first reaction was to rush to the telephone to inform the police, but then she controlled her anger and sat down to think. He was out of work. He had been hungry. What did she need with a gold cigarette case or the lighter? She didn’t smoke anyway. Thinking of him, she decided that he could have everything she owned so long as he came back to her.
For five long, shattering days, she waited with growing desperation to hear from him again until finally a slow horror began to build up inside her that she would have to face the crushing fact that he had made use of her, stolen her things and had forgotten her.
Then on the fifth night, as she sat miserably alone in her flat, facing yet another long night of loneliness, the telephone bell rang. Her heart gave a great leap as she sprang to her feet and ran across the room to snatch up the receiver.
“Yes?”
“This is Daz… remember me?”
Her legs felt so weak she had to sit down.
“Of course.”
“Look, I’m sorry I took your things. You mad at me?”
“No… of course not.”
“Well, it wasn’t nice. I pawned them. I had to have money fast… bit of trouble. I’ll let you have the tickets… Shall I bring them round now?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, then,” and then line went dead.
He didn’t arrive until 22.05 hrs., giving her a frantic wait of an hour and a half. She thought he looked thinner and he wore a scowling frown that gave him a dark, sullen look.
“Here you are,” he said, dropping three pawn tickets on the table. “I shouldn’t have done it… but I was in trouble… I had to raise money fast.”
“It’s all right. I understand. Are you hungry?”
“No… I can’t stay. I’ve got to go,” and he turned to the front door.
She gazed at him in panic.
“But you — please stay. I want you to stay.”
He turned on her, his eyes suddenly savage.
“I’ve got to raise more money,” he said. “I can’t fool around here. There’s a girl living near my pad who is trying to raise something for me. I’ve got to see her tonight.”
“A girl?” Natalie turned cold. “Daz… won’t you explain what this is all about? Won’t you sit down? I could help you if you would explain.”
“I’ve had enough out of you.” Daz shook his head. “Anyway, Lola has practically promised…”
“Please sit down and tell me.”
He sat down. It was easy to lie to her. The horse that was a cinch. The bet he couldn’t cover, and now the bookie was after him.
“They are a tough lot,” he concluded. “If I don’t raise fifty pounds by tomorrow they are going to do me.”
“Do you?” Natalie looked at him in horror. “What does that mean?”
“Carve me, of course,” he said impatiently. “Slash me with a razor… what do you think?”
She imagined that handsome face bleeding. The thought made her feel faint.
“I can let you have fifty pounds, Daz… of course.”
“I can’t take it from you… no, I’ll see Lola.”
“Don’t be silly. I’ll give you a cheque now.”
An hour later, they were lying side by side on the bed. Natalie was relaxed and happy for the first time since last she had seen Daz. It had been wonderful, she was thinking, better even than the first time. She turned to look at Daz and her heart contracted to see that sullen dark look back on his face again.
“What is it, Daz?”
“Just thinking… can’t a man think, for God’s sake?” She flinched at the harsh note in his voice.
“Wasn’t it good for you? Did I disappoint you?”
“I wasn’t thinking about that.” He looked impatiently at her in the shaded light of the bedside lamp. “That’s over. I’m thinking ahead. Just shut up a minute, will you?”
She remained still, waiting and watching his hard young face and the way his eyes shifted, reminding her of an animal in a trap.
“Yes,” he said finally as if speaking his thoughts aloud. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll get out. I’ll go to Dublin. That’s it! Danny will get me a job.”
Natalie sat up, clutching the sheet to her breasts.
“Dublin? What do you mean?”
He frowned at her as if just aware she was with him.
“What I say. I have to get out. That fifty quid you’ve given me
will keep Isaacs off my neck for a couple of days. By then, I’ll be out of his reach.”
She felt as if she were going to faint again. Watching her, Daz saw he had played a trump card.
Vulture Is a Patient Bird Page 6
