"What's your point?" Ralph said. "That this tour's a waste of tine?"
"Man I lost friends to drugs," Otis said."I damned near killed myself with them-though that would have been no tragedy." I was startled by the self-contempt in his voice. "This tour is-you gotta try, you know."
"And what's this got to do with the Conchita situation?"
"She was running an errand for me," Otis said. He saw Ralph's face.
"Not drugs. I'm through with them. Information." Otis shook his head and looked back at Ralph. "Don't you think I know what's going on? All these whispered conversations, hustling me away at short notice. One of these jokers sending death threats is really out to get me right?"
"It's a possibility," Ralph said.
"Well, fuck `em, they can't brace me face to face, got to send threats. Ain't gonna stop me going on stage. Times I feel a bullet in the brain would be very welcome."
"Otis!" Conchita wailed.
"Sorry, baby, but it's the truth. Anyway, I wanted to find out who it was likely to be. Conchita's got her brother to check around."
"I saw her hand over money," I said.
"Sure, he had to pay people. Kid's a businessman-wasn't going to use his own money."
"And?" Ralph said.
"Only got negative stuff. No drug baron is that interested. The right wing death squads huff and puff but they aren't planning anything."
"So who sent the sicanos into Bogota stadium?"
"Don't know. Nor about the intentions of any guerrillas."
"Did Porras's name come up?" I said.
Otis shook his head.
"And nobody knows where he is. Freddy's gone to ground."
Richard came into the green room at this point. He came over with a cocky grin on his face.
"It's sorted," he said triumphantly. "Every paper's going to lead with Otis's sob story-pardon my French, Otis."
Otis glared at him then at me.
"Seems I've got to thank you for revealing my secret to the world's press."
"Otis, it would have come out sometime," Richard said. "Might as well make some use of it."
"Spoken like a true PR," Otis said sourly.
Conchita touched my arm. "I gotta go do my spot. Thought I should fill you in."
She sashayed away across the room.
"Do you have any more for me?" I said to Ralph. He shook his head.
"Not yet."
When Ralph had gone Otis looked at me.
"You're not the prat you first appear, are you, Madrid?" he said gruffly, before lurching away.
"Well done," Richard said, beaming like a proud father.
"For what?"
"You've won him over. He regards you as a mate"
"That's him being matey?"
Richard sighed.
"You don't know the half of it. Listen, Nick, I got a job for
"I've got a job thanks."
"I mean a proper job."
"It is a proper job."
"Journalism? Gimme a break.This is the real thingglamour, adventure, riches beyond your wildest dreams."
I waited.
"I want you to watch Otis's back."
"He's got bodyguards."
"He needs another one."
"Me, a bodyguard? I do yoga."
"So?"
"Skip it. Why me?"
"You look stupid but you're not actually quite as stupid as you look-that gives you an edge."
"Thanks very much."
"Nobody else can seem to figure out what these death threats mean, so I just need somebody to keep their eyes open."
"But Otis is on some kind of death trip anyway-he's on self destruct"
"So help the guy help himself."
"I'm no good at rough stuff," I said, which is true.
"I've seen your knuckles mate."
I looked down at the scar tissue on my knuckles, straightened my shoulders, and sucked my stomach in.
"You having a spasm?" Richard said solicitously.
"Okay, I'll do it. What the hell-somebodys got it in for me, too"
I looked at my knuckles again. I didn't like to tell him they'd got like that diving into the shallow end of the White City swimming pool. Brought tears to my eyes thinking about it.
When the Fertile Lands came off stage Beatrice came over.
"Listen Nick, there's something I need to say."
The tone of voice was one I was accustomed to.
"You know, I thought maybe you and I ..."
"Yes," I said, trying to keep the fading hope out of my voice.
"The thing is, I need someone to look after me not-I can't be a nursemaid." She leaned over and kissed me on the top of my head. "Sorry."
"Make my day why don't you?" I muttered as she walked back to the rest of the band.
Benny smirked at me. I was pretty sure he was involved in the set-up at the restaurant. He would have known about Otis's son since they were in the band together around that time. But did he do it for spite or was he up to something more sinister?
I wandered back to the side of the stage. I was half looking for Catherine. Instead I found Ralph.
"I'm grateful for your assist earlier," he said. "Sorry I got a little rough, though your friend-Bridget is it?-paid me back in spades." He put his hand to his crotch gingerly. "I intend to brace Benny later. If he was behind the stunt at the restaurant he's on the next plane out."
Conchita's band started up with their infectious dance rhythm. Loud infectious dance rhythms. Ralph pulled Inc backstage and into one of the offices. He still needed to shout in my ear.
"But as for the other situation, I'm not sure what I can do about it. It conies under the heading of private business between Otis and Horace. I'm just a hired hand here.You're going to have to sort that."
"I'm waiting for a guy to call me back from London," I shouted. "Can't really do much until then."
"Something else," Ralph said. He had his pissed off look again. "As I said, I'm grateful for your assist. But I got Richard telling me he's asked you to watch out for Otis"
"He asked me to do that, yes."
Ralph opened the office door and looked out. He indicated two guys by the stage. One around six feet, pressed jeans, open-necked white shirt, slim, balding, curly-haired with a sad expression on his long face. He looked a nice guy, even with the handgun tucked into the front of his jeans.
"Hired them this morning specifically to shadow Otis."
"I'm no expert," I said, "but that gun seems too small for the job in hand. I gestured in the guy's direction. I mean it's probably very precise but can it do the big jobs?"
Ralph sighed and gave me a long look.
"You're right-you are no expert.You've heard of William Tell?"
"Of course."
There was a fruit bowl on a stand nearby. Ralph reached over and handed me an apple.
"Okay, stick that on your head, go stand over there. Jose there will shoot it off your head."
"That precise, huh?"
"There's no doubt in my mind the apple will be destroyed," he said, "but perhaps I should rephrase the remark. I know the gun can destroy the apple because I know it will take your whole head off."
I looked again at Jose.
"So what you're saying is I'm not needed"
"Correctamundo."
"But I'm not intended to provide the brawn-I'm the brain."
Ralph took a hurtfully long time to stop laughing. Then he leaned over and tapped me lightly on the chest.
"I'm the brain-don't you forget that"
At the end of Conchita's set she read out a statement from the President's wife. I didn't know enough about Peruvian politics to know how popular the President and his wife were but the message of support for the tour seemed to come across okay.
Otis took the stage to great applause. I was wondering where Bridget had disappeared to when Catherine joined me.
"Do you want to see the old man again, or do you fancy going out to a bar? It's only a coup
le of blocks away."
I don't get offers like that every day-any day actually.
"Sure," I said, impressed she'd already checked out the bars.
We flashed our passes to get out-that's what I call security-and she led the way down chilly streets to a retro chrome and leather place called The 0 Bar.
"What'll it be friends?" the barman said in an American accent. "Neat or through water?"
Ah shit-an oxygen bar. I'd seen a couple in Canada and one in New York but I'd read that someone was developing a franchise of them. Didn't serve booze, served oxygen at around ten quid a snort.
"Wanna gas up?" Catherine said to me.
"Take it here at the bar, or we have a private spa room through the back for a coupla bucks extra," the barman said.
Catherine looked at me.
"Here's fine," I said.
I'd sworn I'd never come in a place like this. It just seemed a really dippy fad. All you did, you inhaled 99 percent pure oxygen for twenty minutes through a tube into your nostrils.You could talk and drink your fresh juice.You got a great buzz but it was all self-induced-inhaling pure oxygen has no health benefits at all.
"Lemme just check your heart rate," the barman said, attaching a metal clamp to each of our wrists in turn.
"What happened to the bars where all you got in the way of extra service was a bowl of peanuts?" I said to Catherine nervously.
She smiled patiently. I was nervous because we'd been at high altitude coping with less oxygen and now presumably in coastal Peru our blood was positively bubbling with the stuff. Although I'd never heard of such a thing, I was worried I might OD on it.
"I've heard Mick takes a hit before a concert," Catherine said. "Reckons it gives him energy for all the dancing around he does"
"Have you been in these places often?" I said.
She gave me an arch look.
"Don't think you've got the phrasing quite right, have you, Nick?"
I liked the way she said Nick, lightly. These things matter.
"I went to a wedding reception in Los Angeles in one of these places," she said. "Oxygen and fruit cake for 200 guests."
"Fruit cake is right," I muttered, looking round the bar at the dozen or so people sitting with clear tubes stuck up their noses.
"Sorry?" she said.
The barman came back before I needed to respond.
"The blast lasts twenty minutes. Do you want it plain or passed through a tumble of flavored water?"
"You decide," I said quickly.
"Plain for me," she said. "With an orange juice"
She looked at me. I nodded. "Make that two."
"Let me just give you your cannula here," he said.
He placed a kind of yoke around each of our necks. Each had a single tube leading to an oxygen tank behind the bar, and two smaller tubes that went up our noses.
Part of me was hoping the whiff of oxygen would sort out the water in my sinuses from my ducking in the Pacific-was it only earlier today?
The barman brought the fruit juices.
"Cheers," Catherine said, chinking glasses. Then she leaned towards me. "So tell me Nick, you seem to be a person in the know-what's going on with all the security around Otis and all these weird incidents?"
She had a very caressing voice-and she knew it.
I gazed deep into her eyes. Nice eyes, one either side of her nose, which is how I like `em. I took another hit of oxygen.
"I can't say much," I said.
"Sure you can. Is it just Otis or the whole tour that's under threat?"
"Otis," I said.
"That's alright then," she said with a big smile.
I took another hit and a moment later saw the smile on her face freeze into a rictus, then her nose wrinkle in disgust.
With the last inhalation I'd suddenly felt the pressure in my sinuses relax. In the mirror behind the bar I saw thick fluid streaming from my nostrils.
I ducked my head and almost fell off my stool fumbling for a handkerchief. I was wiping my nose when Benny crashed through the door and headed straight for me.
I started to get up-only to be yanked back to my seat by the yoke round my neck, which was attached by the other end of the tubes to the oxygen tank behind the bar.
Just as well since it meant his first punch went wide. He didn't look the kind of guy who would have many punches in him but I wasn't taking any chances. I kneed him in the groinsomething I'd learned from Bridget. She'd been educated at a convent so could have got odds on a bout with Sonny Liston. By accident-those damned tubes jerking my head forward-I also headbutted him frill in the face.
He went down. Catherine jumped to her feet, throwing her yoke off, and ripping the tubes from her nostrils as the barman, calling "Hey," started over from the far end of the bar. She grabbed my hand and lunged for the door as I got rid of my yoke and the tubes finally pinged out of my nostrils-which hurt actually.We exited the bar at speed.
"God, this is just like the old days with Otis," she said breathily, dragging me into a shop doorway as I frantically wiped my nose with more tissues.
As she pressed herself against me I remembered she'd been married to a thug-was there a part of her that was excited by violence? I thought I should tell her that I wasn't really like that, that in fact I abhorred violence. But as she began to caress me more ardently I thought perhaps I'd tell her in the morning.
Benny was out of there the next day, shipped back to Britain on the first available flight. Richard told me this over breakfast. He looked exhausted-pale and hollow-eyed.
"I see your attempts to do justice to the generosity of Sukie and Venus are beginning to get to you," I said as I tucked into an unlikely breakfast of beans on toast-did I choose the hotel?
Richard gave me a long look.
"From what I hear," he finally said, "you're playing from a weak hand commenting on someone else's sexual capacity."
I laughed. But then I was feeling great. My night with Catherine had been extraordinary. She'd obviously been around the track a few times but I like to feel I provided some surprises. I was thrilled when she said she'd never experienced sex quite like it. So thrilled that whilst I've never been kiss-and-tell I felt the need to share it with someone the moment I was back in my room.
"And she said she'd never experienced sex quite like itquite a compliment, don't you think?" I'd said.
"Si. But if you excuse me, sir, I must clean your bathroom," the chambermaid had replied.
Richard tapped the newspaper beside his plate.
"As it happens I'm tired because I spent most of the night sorting out the newspapers. It helped we could run with the Benny story. Ralph braced him last night. Benny tried to tough it out but you don't out-tough Ralph."
He gave me a complicit grin.
"He looked a little the worse for wear this morning. Last night he was mouthing off about how he was going to be looking for you. Guess he found you."
I shrugged and took another mouthful of baked beans.
"You're a dark horse," he said. "Yes, you are"
"What are Fertile Lands going to do without their percussionist?"
"Get another one. What's a percussionist but a drummer with pretensions? And drummers are ten a penny in any city. The main thing is we can stop worrying about any more threats to Otis."
"You think Benny was behind all of then?" I said, surprised.
"Well, no, not back in Colombia.You know Otis's rule of thumb-why piss off one person when you can piss off a dozen? And he did piss people off there but we turned some of them around and now we're out of there."
He tapped the paper again.
"With luck this is the last thing we have to worry about. Even Conchita's being lovery-dovey with hint-they came straight back to the hotel last night after the concert and Otis was relatively sober."
"That's great but Otis has a little problem with Horace."
My phone call had come through this morning and the conclusion my pal drew was that Horace had
been draining Otis for years-the good years and the bad.
"Happens all the time in rock," he said, his voice unexpectedly loud down the phone line from London. "Remember when someone had been ripping Sting off to the tune-ha, ha-of a couple of million and Sting hadn't noticed because he had so much money going through his accounts?"
"I don't think Otis is in that league, Mark."
"Sure, but Horace has been doing very nicely, thank you."
I relayed this to Richard and named the sum Mark, my contact, estimated Horace had creamed off Otis.
"That buys a lot of Elvin the Elfin socks," I said.
Richard clamped my arm.
"Well, good luck."
"What do you mean?"
"Well I don't envy the person who has to tell Otis this."
"But-"
"And it ain't going to be me, pardner.You've got the scoop on this-it's your exclusive and you're welcome to it"
"Are you suggesting we might have a shoot-the-messenger scenario here," I said with a sinking heart.
Richard grinned.
"How'd Horace hitch up with Otis in the first place?" I asked.
"Horace was organizing gigs at universities along the south coast.When Otis was going down for the third time in the mideighties Horace offered a life raft. They're very different but it seems to work. Seemed to."
After breakfast I went back to my room and phoned Bridget. I hadn't seen her since I got her backstage pass at the concert the previous evening. There was no reply, not even "Fuck off," her customary greeting when her sleep is disturbed after a late night.
I phoned Catherine. I told myself it was to check on how to approach Otis with the bad tidings but it was really because I wanted to see her again. I told her about Horace.
"How should I approach it?"
"From a great distance," she said. "Otis has many faults, as I can be the first to testify. But aside from sexual fidelity he's very loyal to people. Once you get his trust, you've got it for life. Whether you want it or not."
She sounded sentimental.
"You still care for him?"
"I still love the bugger, sure. But I couldn't live with him without murder becoming a distinct possibility." There was a pause then she said. "Look, my advice, for what it's worth, is just tell him straight."
Two to Tango (Nick Madrid) Page 13
