Hung Out To Die: Lukas Boston - Private Investigator Book Two

by Logan May

  ‘What have you got to lose?’

  ‘Oh, my job, my marriage, everything I own…’

  ‘You know I can be trusted, Pete.’

  ‘Now you’re just being ridiculous.’

  ‘You haven’t got the manpower or the overtime funding.’

  That made Goodall grunt and shrug unhappily. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘I can liaise directly with Detective Constable Reynolds every minute of the day and night,’ Lukas said innocently. ‘We’ll be inseparable.’

  Goodall slapped the desk. ‘Okay, why not? I’m too damned busy anyway. But don’t get me landed in any shit.’

  Beth hissed, ‘But sir—’

  Goodall held up a finger.

  SIX

  The Black Ball Pool Hall was a relic of a bygone age, a non-descript building with shuttered windows and a few scratched signs advertising the serious business going on inside—pool games on properly balanced and level tables, the lighting focused on the green felt and nothing else, the rest of the room thrown into deep shadows. The hall even had a liquor license and nobody gave a damn about the anti-smoking laws, which had nothing to do with the long-established rule of no cigarettes anywhere near the tables. Hidden on a backstreet in Collingwood, the Black Ball Pool Hall was an anachronism because other places like this had years earlier either relocated to slick, tourist-oriented decors and “family-friendly” environments closer to the city, or given up entirely and installed poker machines and other fast coin-operated gambling. Pool tables for the dedicated players didn’t turn over anything like the same money. Even worse, a game could last forever. That was hardly a good return on investment.

  Lukas walked in and looked towards the bar. He felt plenty of eyes turning his way, including some recognising him. Lukas wasn’t too worried. Anybody who was anybody knew that Lukas couldn’t pull out a warrant card anymore and start arresting people.

  His shoes stuck to the carpet as he made a way between the tables, making sure he didn’t disturb anyone in the process of taking a shot. The bar was only short and dimly lit. Lukas surveyed the beer taps on offer.

  A gruff voice said, ‘Hello, Lukas.’

  Lukas squinted at the face behind the taps. ‘Hey William, I wouldn’t have expected to see you so soon. Parole already?’

  ‘With good behaviour,’ William tipped his head. ‘Time flies. What’ll it be?’

  ‘Anything not watered down?’

  ‘The Guinness. The rest I can’t promise.’

  ‘Make it a Guinness, then. Can I smoke here?’

  ‘Nope, not according to the law, and you’re definitely a law-abiding citizen, right?’

  ‘Are you going to stop me?’

  ‘Nope.’

  Lukas lit up. As he watched William pulling a pint of Guinness he said, ‘Did you ever give the money back?’

  ‘Jesus, would I be flogging shitty beers here, if I hadn’t?’

  ‘Good point,’ Lukas nodded. He watched the pool game going on at the closest table. It was a grave affair, the players stalking each other around the felt.

  Someone moving in the shadows struck Lukas as familiar and he tried to see who it was, but the person was intent on avoiding that, moving quickly and slightly hunched over, one hand scratching at his hair to shield his face. Lukas didn’t take his eyes off him and a moment of sunlight was enough as the figure slipped outside through the door.

  Job Rewold.

  Surprising.

  Lukas was tempted to ask William about Job, but it wasn’t wise to ask too many questions in a place like this. Lukas had to prioritise.

  ‘Hey William, I’ve been told I need to speak with a guy called Robbie, and I have to ask to see him in the flesh. Does that make sense to you?’

  William nodded and shrugged. ‘Close enough, it sounds like you almost know all the right people.’

  ‘I do?’

  ‘Give me a minute.’ William picked up a phone, turning his back so Lukas couldn’t hear the conversation. He hung up and said, ‘Someone will be here soon.’

  ‘Sure,’ Lukas sipped on his Guinness and again wondered about asking after Job Rewold.

  The game ended and another began, the balls racked up in a solemn ceremony, the cues precisely chalked. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and Lukas saw no reason why he shouldn’t contribute more.

  Somebody touched his elbow and said softly, ‘Come with me.’

  Lukas turned to see a pretty, dark-haired girl already walking away towards the gloom at the end of the room. She was crooking a finger behind her at Lukas. He quickly abandoned his Guinness to follow. A door opened onto steep stairs dropping into a basement and Lukas stumbled at the top, trying to keep up. The steps were illuminated by a fly-blown red light.

  ‘Who are you?’ Lukas asked.

  ‘My name is Angel.’ Her voice echoed in the stairwell.

  ‘Are we going to see Robbie?’

  ‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’

  Lukas didn't answer. The problem was that basements made him nervous. They normally only had one way out.

  At the bottom was a passageway with doors on both sides, and one at the end. Angel took him all the way and then surprised Lukas by pausing and putting her fingers to her lips, telling him to be quiet.

  ‘Sure,’ Lukas said quietly, shrugging. Was it Robbie’s nap time?

  Angel pushed through the door and motioned for Lukas to join her.

  The room was brightly lit and warm. Strong lamps were focused on a very large bed. A boom microphone hung in the air. The naked couple on the mattress was impressively entwined and energetically thrusting in several directions at once. The girl groaned, oohed and aahed loudly, while the man wore an expression of furious concentration.

  A wiry young man circled the scene with a shoulder-mounted camera. He had a pair of headphones on and it took a moment for Lukas to realise he was following instructions from an attractive woman standing out of the light, watching a video monitor. Angel gently grabbed Lukas’ arm and drew him against the wall, making sure he didn’t walk into the shot.

  Hiding his surprise Lukas whispered to Angel, ‘Why is he concentrating so hard? Can’t he remember what to do?’

  She smiled at him, transforming her face. Angel kept her voice low, making Lukas bend over to hear. ‘All men think they can star in a porn movie. It’s not easy, you know. I’ll assume that you’ve got enough… talent to match your good looks?’ She glanced pointedly at his groin. ‘Although we would probably use your head anyway.’

  ‘Use my head?’

  Angel nodded at the cameraman. ‘Dean’s been instructed to keep Rikko’s head out of the frame at all times. Everyone agrees that Rikko is as ugly as a hat full of arseholes and it’ll just spoil things. We do it a lot. As long as you’ve got what it takes where it matters.’

  ‘Poor Rikko, won’t it hurt his feelings?’

  ‘Rikko doesn’t have any feelings. That’s why he can do that for hours on end and not blow his load.’

  ‘I thought he was just being considerate?’

  ‘Funny guy, I can’t wait to see how you measure up.’

  A penny dropped for Lukas. ‘Hang on, if Dean’s the cameraman and Rikko is lover boy there, I guess that makes her Robbie?’ He pointed at the woman watching the video screen.

  ‘Roberta, but she hates that name. Always call her Robbie.’

  The girl on the bed collapsed in a heap and let out a groan of a different kind. ‘I’m knackered, Robbie. Can we take a break? And we need some lube. Rikko’s going to saw me in half soon.’

  ‘Take ten, grab a drink and smoke,’ Robbie said, taking off her headphones. ‘Rikko, try to keep it at least halfway up, will you? Kaylene, give him a hand, okay?’

  ‘Sure, thanks,’ Kaylene said.

  The two actors left the bed and without putting on any robes unselfconsciously went to a small bar in the corner. Kaylene bent over to see inside the refrigerator. ‘You want a coke?’ she asked Rikko, absently grabbing hold of
his cock and giving it a few helpful pumps.

  ‘Is there any diet?’

  ‘Nah, just the normal shit.’

  ‘Better than nothing.’

  Robbie appeared in front of Lukas, looking him up and down. He figured she was in her mid-thirties. A beautiful woman with a cascade of rich, red hair, Lukas guessed that in the not-too-distant past Robbie must have been a starlet of the adult film industry—and a successful one. It was the only explanation for what she was doing now. This type of operation needed money.

  ‘Who do we have here?’ Robbie said. ‘Someone should have told you we don’t do auditions on filming days, but I guess we can make time. Who sent you?’

  ‘Auditions?’ Lukas said, startled. Now a few things Angel said made sense. ‘Sorry, I’m not here to audition.’

  Robbie raised an eyebrow. ‘So why are you here?’ She stared at Angel.

  ‘Hey, he knew what to say—what to ask,’ Angel said, and shrugged.

  Robbie’s face darkened and Lukas saw himself getting hurled out onto the street. He said quickly, ‘I’m Lukas Boston, a private investigator and I’m here so you can help a friend of yours, a Mister Big Johnno Watson. He’s swearing on a mile-high stack of Playboy magazines to his defense lawyer that he was here when a certain unlawful activity took place, but he refuses to go into details.’

  ‘He’s being discreet,’ Robbie said, approving.

  ‘If that’s what you want to call it. Does he work here or not?’

  ‘That depends on what you call working. Johnno does a plumber’s act.’

  ‘Plumber’s act?’

  ‘You know, he comes into the house to fix the plumbing, the girl hasn’t got any cash so she fucks him instead. Haven’t you ever seen Plumb My Plug-Hole? That’s one of Johnno’s. It’s a classic.’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not,’ Lukas said uncomfortably. ‘So he’s quite famous?’

  ‘Not really, but why do you think he’s called Big Johnno?’

  ‘I would have figured that out eventually,’ Lukas said. Robbie wore bright red lipstick, but no other makeup revealing a dusting of freckles on her pale cheeks that made her look like a cute teenager.

  She said, ‘What day are we talking about?’

  ‘July 19th, late afternoon.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, that was a million years ago,’ Robbie scowled. ‘We can check the shoot schedule, see if he was on set.’

  Robbie took him out of the studio and into another room filled with computers, video screens and workstations.

  Lukas said, ‘You’ve got quite a setup here.’

  Sitting at a computer and working the keyboard, Robbie said, ‘We can shoot, edit and put a teaser out on the internet with a pay-by-credit download link all in the same day and in high definition. None of your low resolution shit here.’

  ‘Right,’ Lukas said, as if he understood. ‘I thought the porn industry was going broke?’

  ‘The big studios can’t survive, because operations like us can make top-quality movies at a fraction of the cost. I’m even thinking of starting a second film unit and I’ve got people queuing up to invest.’ Robbie stopped and pointed at a screen. ‘Here you go, Johnno was working that day and I remember now it was a long shoot.’

  Lukas watched the vision for a moment. ‘I can see where he got his name. Isn’t that Angel?’

  ‘Yep—oh, look! She’s about to do her special trick.’

  ‘Jesus… ah, that’s very special.’

  ‘That’s her trademark. Angel’s getting a huge fan base. She’ll be one of my top earners soon.’

  ‘I can see why—bloody hell, she’s supple, isn’t she?’

  ‘Have you seen enough?’

  Reluctantly, Lukas nodded. ‘I don’t suppose you can give me a copy of this?’

  Robbie paused the playback, freezing the video, and inclined her head. ‘Sure, go to the website, fill in your credit card details and it’s all yours.’

  ‘No, I mean raw footage with the time-code on it. That should do.’

  She sighed and looked undecided. ‘Okay, but it’ll take a bit of time. Can you come back in a few days and I’ll get someone to render you a DVD?’

  ‘Sure, and I can check with the defense lawyer it’ll be enough.’

  And it gives me the excuse to come back and ask about Job Rewold, Lukas thought.

  Robbie got up and stood very close, her breath warm on Lukas’ face as she examined him. She ran her fingers over his nose and cheeks. ‘Are you sure that you don’t want to audition? I reckon that I can make you very successful. You’ve got that romantic, Wuthering Heights look about you. All kind of dashing, nineteenth century hero and everything. You’d only need to take off your shirt and every woman will faint with multiple orgasms. Of course, you’d need to do a little more than that.’ Robbie gave him a playful smile.

  Lukas had trouble replying past a lump in his throat. ‘Thanks, but I don’t think I’m quite well enough—um, equipped for that sort of thing,’ he waved at the video screen.

  ‘Let me be the judge of that.’ Robbie grabbed a handful of Lukas’ jeans and did some location scouting. ‘Besides, we could always use a cock stand-in for you.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘A cock stand-in. You get to use your own, perfectly usable prop for most of the scenes,’ she gave Lukas a squeeze. ‘But for the close-up shots we’ll get someone to stand in for you. Don’t get upset, our audience expects certain standards to be met, that’s all.’

  Although Lukas had no illusions that he didn’t meet the minimum requirements—particularly if Big Johnno represented some sort of benchmark—it didn’t stop him feeling just a little offended. Plus he worried that refusing Robbie outright might mean he’d miss out on the DVD and any possible information on Job Rewold. Ignoring plenty of warning noises in his head, Lukas said lamely, ‘Maybe I’ll think about it. Never say never, right?’

  ‘Never say never indeed, Lukas,’ Robbie said, patting his arse. ‘I’d better get back to work. Why don’t you come and see me after eight o’clock, Thursday night? I’ll have the DVD ready and I’ll shout you a drink at the bar.’

  ‘That’s a date,’ Lukas said, as if he was in complete control of things, although he’d been the one groped, fondled and patted. Then propositioned.

  ‘Do you want Angel to show you out?’

  ‘No, I’ll be okay.’

  Lukas wanted Angel to show him plenty of things, however the way out wasn’t on that list. He also wasn’t sure he could look Angel in the eye right now.

  SEVEN

  A trip back to the Wharftown Markets was next. The weather wasn’t much better, another cold day with only a glimpse of sunshine as thick clouds scudded across the sky. Lukas looked at the oily water and a shudder ran through him.

  ‘Bastard,’ he told the water, since he had no idea who pushed him in and couldn’t abuse them instead. Hunching his shoulders he went straight to Carrie’s stall.

  ‘Have you come back for another swim?’ she asked, seeing him. Carrie was wearing the tight jeans again and a very loose, woolen top that tantalizingly threatened to fall off her shoulder at any moment.

  ‘You can have a laugh,’ he grumbled. ‘It was freezing cold and I nearly drowned.’

  ‘Nearly drowned? Then that doesn’t explain why you haven’t called, does it? I thought you might at least want to check if I was still all right. That chicken was a genuine curse meant to mess with my life.’

  ‘Your mobile number along with everything else in my phone and wallet was turned to mush by the salt water. That’s why I haven’t called—and it’s why I’m here now,’ Lukas said. It was true, however he didn’t admit that calling Carrie hadn’t been uppermost on his mind.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t think of that,’ she said, mollified. ‘Sorry. Everyone’s been talking about the guy who fell off the end of the wharf. You’re a bit of an accident-prone private investigator, don’t you think? It’s not very encouraging.’

  ‘I didn’t fall,
I was pushed. Does that restore your confidence?’

  ‘Oh my God! Who pushed you?’

  ‘I don’t know yet.’

  ‘Have you any clues?’

  ‘No, not so far.’

  ‘Any ideas at all?’

  ‘Give me chance, will you? I’ve hardly dried out.’

  She looked disappointed. ‘I thought you might be here about Stuart’s paintings.’

  Lukas had to dredge his memory a moment. ‘Stuart’s paintings?’

  ‘The Cat Art Gallery. Didn’t you see it on your way in?’

  ‘Oh, him. He’s rearranging everything, isn’t he?’ Lukas had barely given the stall a glance, keeping his head down.

  ‘Hardly, you’re not even a very observant bloody private investigator. Come on, I’ll show you.’

  Lukas tried to come up with an excuse and got nothing. Humbled, he followed Carrie.

  Each painting had been taken down and was leaning on the wall below its mounting. The stall looked bare.

  ‘Like I said, he’s changing things around…’ Lukas began, and looked closer.

  All of the pictures had been damaged. Several had been slashed two or three times, while others had wide swathes of spray paint across them. Lukas walked slowly around. None of them had been spared, every one of them ruined. There was no sign of Stuart.

  ‘Who could have done this?’ Carrie said softly.

  ‘An art critic?’

  ‘Don’t be cruel. Stuart’s heart-broken. He’s gone home to get replacements for everything.’

  ‘He can replace all of them?’

  ‘So he says. At least that’s something.’

  ‘That’s something, all right,’ Lukas muttered. ‘We need to find out who did this. Get them back here in a hurry.’

  ‘Lukas,’ she narrowed her eyes.

  ‘Just kidding, really.’ Lukas surveyed the scene some more and said ruefully, ‘Obviously someone wants to make your tenancy here a misery and get you all to quit. First there was your cursed, dead chicken and now this. It’s not hard to figure out it’s some kind of scare campaign. What we need to discover is why.’