by Roger Hurn
Chapter Ten
‘I wrote The Girl From Tiger Bay - not Jason.’ Jez said the words simply and with conviction. ‘OK, so my name’s not on the MS and neither’s Jason’s, but it was my idea and I told Jason about it when we first met at some crap awards ceremony. Though he amazed me ‘cos he said he thought it was a brilliant idea and had real potential. Obviously, I was totally flattered because Jason Mulwhinney is a big deal playwright and I’m only a jobbing actress.’ Jezebel rolled her eyes at her own naivety.
‘And the fact that you were wearing that dress that almost wasn’t there probably didn’t do you any harm in grabbing his attention either.’ Angelica smiled sweetly. ‘Monika showed me the photograph, darling. You looked fabulous.’
Monika rolled her eyes and Jez gave Angelica a look that could have peeled paint - though she didn’t let Angelica’s tart little interjection deflect her from telling her story.
‘Anyway, we starting seeing each other on a regular basis and he really encouraged me to talk about my idea. I thought he was so different from the other successful writers I’d met ‘cos they only ever wanted to talk about themselves and their work, but Jase seemed to be really interested in me … and I liked that.’ She sighed heavily. ‘What a stupid cow I was.’
‘That’s men for you, Jezzie,’ said Angelica. ‘They’ll tell you anything to get inside your pants … as I’m sure you know only too well.’
This time Jez bit back. ‘Yeah, well, maybe that’s your experience of guys, Angel, but Jason wanted way more than that from me.’
Angel gave a little pout. ‘If you say so … darling.’
‘I know so … darling.’ Jezebel now had her claws out, but Angelica only shrugged and then snuggled up close to Monika who slipped her arm around Angel’s shoulders. Now I know that, on occasion, blokes can get suckered into pissing up the wall contests and I think I was watching the female equivalent but, to my relief, Jez was more focused on telling me her tale than on continuing her spat with Angelica.
‘He encouraged me to get it down on paper, but I’m dyslexic and have huge trouble writing and typing so he invited me to move in with him so he could write it down for me while I dictated it.’ She gave me a wry smile. ‘He said he could give me some tips on style and so on but that he wouldn’t try and take it over … it would be my work and mine alone.’ She looked up at the ceiling and blew air out through her nostrils in disgust. ‘What a fool I was to fall for that line. He said the only reward he wanted was to see me become a successful writer as well as a successful actress.’
‘And to get you into his bed.’ Monika’s voice was sharp with what, to my ear, sounded very like jealousy and Angelica looked even more sulky, but Jezebel carried on regardless.
‘Yeah well, I wanted him to type it on the computer, but he said he always writes everything in longhand.’
Angelica laughed sarcastically. ‘Oh, and you believed him did you, Jez?’
Jezebel nodded. ‘I did actually ‘cos I’d read an article in the TLS where he said that, so I had no idea that he was gonna con me and pass it off as all his own work.’
Angelica smiled cattily. ‘Well, thank goodness you could read that … even with your dyslexia.’
‘Dyslexia is a curse, but Jez deals with it heroically,’ said Monika firmly.
I decided it was time for me to step in. ‘OK … let me get this straight. ‘You say this play The Girl From Tiger Bay is your work, but you’re dyslexic so that’s why Jason wrote it down … which explains why the MS is in his handwriting not yours.’ Jez nodded. ‘And your name isn’t on it because …?
‘Because we were focused on getting the play down on paper. We were gonna add the title page and stuff when we had it typed up.’
‘And he put himself out for you because he was so taken with you and your brilliant idea that he wanted to give you the break that your talent so richly deserved, right?’
‘Yeah, well that’s what I thought back then.’
‘But all the time he was a scheming bastard who was only using you to get his paws on your work and, as others have already said, to get his leg over at the same time. Then, when he’d got what he wanted he turfed you out and brought in your replacement, Carmelita Jones, an actress who just happens to be perfect for the part of Shirley Bassey.’
‘Yes, only I’m bloody perfect for the part – not that bitch.’
I held up my hands. ‘Hey, I’m a PI not a casting director so I wouldn’t have a clue about that but, as far as the world’s concerned, he’s a famous playwright while you’ve absolutely no track record of writing anything. Also, Carmelita’s Welsh of dual heritage just like the fabulous Ms Bassey, plus she’s Jason’s current squeeze so it makes sense that she’d be the inspiration for him to write this play.’ I shook my head. ‘So, why should anybody believe for a second that you did anything other than nick it in a fit of jealousy when you found out that Jason was writing this one woman play for Carmelita and not you?’
‘He’s got a point, Jezebel.’ Byron St James stuck his oar in. It wasn’t welcomed by Jez.
‘Because I’m not a bloody liar, OK!’ Her eyes blazed with a fury that didn’t seem to be fake. ‘All right, so I may be a bloody fool, but I’m telling the truth about this.’
‘I believe you, Jezzie, even if Mr Kyd doesn’t.’ Monika disentangled herself from Angelica and came over and gave Jez a hug. Both of them glared at me, but that was nothing to the look Angel was giving them. Byron, on the other hand, had the air of a man who was doing some quick calculations as to how to turn this situation to his advantage. Not for the first time in my life I felt like Daniel must have done when he found himself in the lions’ den.
‘Look, Jezebel, it doesn’t matter whether I believe you or not, but the bottom line is that Mulwhinney has got a really strong case against you. He won’t even need a handwriting expert to prove you didn’t physically write the MS. If I don’t go back with it, he’ll almost certainly go to the police. Then you’ll lose the play and probably end up getting deported into the bargain. So, why not do the smart thing and hand it over and I’ll try to persuade him to cough up some dosh in return to fund your new start here in the States?’
‘What new start in the States?’ Angelica sounded horrified, but Jez wasn’t listening to her.
‘Cos I’d rather die than give it to that bastard and I don’t want his fucking money either so why don’t you just fuck off back to London!’ Jez was at screaming pitch and, for a second, I saw the fire-breathing harridan that Mulwhinney had described - and it wasn’t an act.
‘Now wait a minute, Jezebel,’ said St James. ‘Let’s not be so hasty here. I hate to say it but Kyd’s right. Mulwhinney’s a powerful guy with a lot of connections. He could ruin your career before it’s even begun. Plus, you’re a nobody while Mulwhinney’s a big cheese.’ Jezebel started to argue but he held his hand up. ‘No, hear me out, Jez. OK, so it’s like giving up your baby to the child catcher but, the fact is, having his name on the script makes it bankable. Whereas, no offence, your name doesn’t mean shit here. So why not let me talk to him on your behalf. I’m thinking that maybe I could get you a share of the credits as well as some serious dough up front if this play is the hot property everybody thinks it is. Then we’ve got a win-win situation.’
‘No we haven’t!’ Jezebel was beside herself with anger. ‘He may have connections but he’s a wanked out twat who hasn’t had an original idea in years. The Girl From Tiger Bay is all down to me. Look, he told me he’s got writer’s block big time, but I was too fucking stupid to realise that he saw my idea as the perfect way back for him. He was all written out, but then I came into his life and bingo, suddenly he’s got a chance to get back on top.’ She sucked hard on her teeth. ‘Christ, he’s an evil shit and he’s not going to have my fucking play. Nobody is. I’d rather burn it.’
‘Don’t worry, honey,’ said Monika as she wrapped her arms round Jezebel protectively. ‘Mulwhinney’s not going to get his hands on you
r play and nobody’s going to take it away from you. Byron will find a backer for it here in the US and we’ll tell Mulwhinney he can take a hike.’ She stared hard at him. ‘Isn’t that right, Byron?’
Byron didn’t look too sure about that, but he nodded a half-hearted agreement. ‘So I think it’s time you left, Mr Kyd. You can tell Mulwhinney that if he wants to make trouble for Jez, then he’ll get more than he can handle. I know plenty of people in the business who’ll lap up the stories Jez can tell about him. And believe me, Mr Kyd, we won’t hesitate to make him look a total fool.’
She was probably bluffing, but there was no way I could call her on it there and then. I suddenly felt bone-weary and decided that I would do what they all seemed to want and go back home to London. I had a gut feeling that Jezebel was telling the truth, but it didn’t matter to anybody what I thought. I just hoped Mulwhinney would still pay my bill when I came back empty-handed.
I left the apartment and, not surprisingly, nobody told me to have a nice day. I didn’t care, I just wanted out of New York. Anyway, I was standing outside in the bitter wind wondering where I could find a cab to take me to the airport when the wind suddenly smelled of garlic and a harsh voice said in my ear, ‘Mr Kapoor would like another word with you.’
Chapter Eleven
I recognised the joker as one of the heavies who’d been in Sanjay’s apartment and I realised that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. He pointed to a sleek black limo across the street and I walked over to it while he and his buddy followed half a step behind me. The window slid down and Sanjay Kapoor’s hand tooled leather features stared out at me.
‘Have you got the manuscript?’
I shook my head. ‘No, Mr Kapoor, I haven’t. Ms Montague has explained that she actually wrote the play – not Mr Mulwhinney - so there’s absolutely no reason for her to give back something that never belonged to Mr Mulwhinney in the first place. It’s case closed I’m afraid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m freezing my tits off standing here and I’ve got a plane to catch so goodbye Mr Kapoor. I’ll give your regards to your little brother DK when I next see him.’
I turned to go but Kapoor’s goon had other ideas. He sunk his fist deep into my solar plexus. The breath shot out of my lungs and my diaphragm went into a spasm stopping me from sucking in any more. I felt panic and pain swamp me in equal measures. But then the sensation passed and the bastard spun me back round to face Sanjay again.
‘It’s not case closed until I say it is. Do you understand me, Mr Kyd?’
I would have answered, but it was all I could do to stop from throwing up.
‘I don’t believe the girl’s story. I want that manuscript and you have twenty-four hours to persuade her to give it to me. If you fail me in this I’ll send Hari and Paresh to do the job.’ He let that threat hang in the air for a moment. Then his voice became as oily as an eel’s backside. ‘Tell her to look on me as a Good Samaritan who is saving her from the consequences of her own folly. Mr Mulwhinney will get his play back, you’ll get your finder’s fee, I’ll have a new business partner and she will keep her skin intact. A most satisfactory conclusion for all parties I’d say.’ With that the window slid back up and the limo purred away from the kerb.
The bastard called Hari sniffed loudly. ‘Why don’t cha save yourself some hassle, Mr PI, and just fuck off to the airport now? That pussy Shamak’ll take you.’ He grinned unpleasantly. ‘Me and Paresh are gonna enjoy persuading that little kutriya to give it up ... comprende?’
He winked and I wanted to punch his lights out there and then, but I didn’t fancy my chances against the two of them and I figured I’d fought enough losing battles for one day. ‘No. you’re all right,’ I said. ‘I’ll go back to my motel, get some rest and then go and see her again in the morning. So back off … OK? Because I reckon Mr Kapoor would much rather I sorted this out than you guys … otherwise he’d have sent you in already.’
I could see by the flash of annoyance in their eyes that I’d hit the mark. Gangsters like DK and Sanjay Kapoor tend to use actual violence as a last resort. The threat of it is usually enough and they prefer it that way. It’s far less messy and ultimately way more effective. But that doesn’t mean that they never let their attack dogs loose. So I had to find a way to make Jezebel give me the MS otherwise both of us would be in deep shit.
Hari contented himself with pushing me in the chest and sneering at me when I didn’t attempt to push him back. Then he and Paresh sauntered off into the gathering gloom. I pulled out my mobile and gave Shamak a bell. He answered immediately and picked me up about twenty minutes later from outside Café Culture. I filled him in on what had happened since I’d last seen him.
‘Hari and Paresh are mean sons of bitches,’ he said. ‘They get a kick out of hurting people.’
‘Yeah, well I didn’t have them down as outreach workers for the local Sunday School so that’s not exactly news.’
‘No, but how are you going to get Jezebel to cooperate? She sounds like she’s pretty pissed with Mulwhinney and she won’t have any idea of just how much danger she’s in now that you’ve let Mr Kapoor in on what’s going down.’
This seemed a bit harsh seeing as Shamak was the one who’d taken me to Sanjay in the first place and I said so. This stung him.
‘Yeah, but I’m only a gofer. I do what I’m told, but I don’t get involved in the rough stuff. I’m strictly an errand boy … not muscle.’
I leaned back in my seat. ‘Yeah, well I hope that makes you feel good about yourself, pal, ‘cos if I screw up tomorrow and, let’s be honest here, so far my track record in the silver-tongued persuader department leaves a lot to be desired, Jez Montague is going to find herself up close and personal with the Chuckle brothers. And, like it or not, you’re part of the same mob as them.’
He chewed on his bottom lip and frowned like this was a revelation to him.
‘But you’ve got a game plan, right?’
I sighed. ‘Not as yet, but I’ll think of something … I always do.’
He didn’t say anything, but he looked at me in his driving mirror and his eyes were unreadable.
Chapter Twelve
The walls at the Red Carpet motel were so thin you could hear what the people in the next room were thinking. This might have been interesting if the punters had been Stephen Hawkin and Sir Isaak Newton, but the only things these patrons had on their minds were sex and how much they had to pay for it. So, after a restless night listening to bed springs twanging, and more gagging, groaning and squealing than you could shake a whip at, I finally rolled out of bed and headed bleary-eyed back to Crown Heights.
Shortly after nine I found myself back at Café Culture, sitting staring out of the window, sipping a cup of their finest Java and wondering what the hell I was going to do next because, despite my confident assertion to Shamak in the cab the night before, a foolproof plan had not as yet strolled up and introduced itself to me. I didn’t need to be Mystic Meg to know that it was never going to happen so I downed my coffee and jogged over the road to the apartment block.
I leant on the buzzer, but there was no reply. My heart sank and I was at a complete loss as to what to do next when a girl came out of the communal front door. She flashed me a smile and asked who I was visiting. When I told her I’d come to see Monika Pendlas, the smile was replaced by a frown.
‘Gosh, you’ve missed her. She’s rehearsing a new play down at St Ann’s Warehouse and she and Angelica left about a half hour or so ago. Sorry.’
‘Hey, that’s OK,’ I said. ‘I was really hoping to catch up with an old friend of mine from London who’s staying with Monika. Her name’s Jezebel Montague. She’s an actress. So, do you know if she went with them?’
The girl pouted and shrugged. ‘Well, I guess she didn’t because I heard Monika and Angel arguing with each other when they left and it was just the two of them.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Really? What were they arguing about?’
The
girl glanced around and then leaned in to me slightly. ‘Well, I couldn’t really say and anyway I don’t like to gossip, but I think Angelica was pissed about your friend staying with them.’
I looked shocked. ‘Oh no, but Jez is such a sweet girl. Surely you must have misheard.’
I’d already sussed that this girl was a queen bee gossip and possibly malicious with it … which was great news for me though probably not so much for her neighbours in the block.
She shook her head. ‘Oh your friend may be a sweetheart, but that Angelica’s like totally high maintenance.’ She leaned in even closer to me. ‘Between you and me, she makes Monika’s life a misery. I tell you if she was my partner I’d have shown her the door months ago.’ She sighed theatrically. ‘I don’t know how Monika puts up with her. She’s always having hissy fits. You know sometimes she gets into such a rage it’s scary.’
I nodded sagely. ‘So Angelica’s the jealous type is she?’
The girl nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, but you didn’t hear it from me, right?’
‘Hey, my lips are sealed.’
She stepped back and looked me up and down. ‘So, are you an actor or a director or something in England?’
‘An actor. I’m in a TV show back home. I play a down-at-heel Private Eye called Chris Shakespeare.’
‘Oh wow, that’s like so cool.’
I smiled self-deprecatingly. ‘I think it’s going to be shown here on BBC America soon.’
‘Hey, I’ll be sure to watch it.’
I looked suitably grateful. ‘Thanks. But do you think you could let me into the building so I can go and knock on Monika’s door? I figure Jez is jet lagged and in a deep sleep so that’s why she hasn’t heard the buzzer.’
I was hoping that Gossip Girl would go for it, but I was forgetting this was New York City and nobody lets down their guard to strangers.
‘Sorry, but no can do,’ she said. ‘If your friend wants to see you, she’ll let you in. But you have a nice day now, Chris.’
