Streetwise

by Roberta Kray

  ‘But she likes it. She told me she did.’

  ‘Well, so what? We can’t all like the same things.’ Ava glanced at her watch as if she had things to do, people to see.

  Hannah, having gained an unexpected chance to interrogate her while Tash was out of the way, now sensed that time was running out. Before Ava could make her escape, she said rather slyly, ‘I suppose it must make it awkward, her being so close to Guy Wilder and all.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware that she was.’

  Hannah gave a small triumphant smile. ‘Oh, yes. Hadn’t you heard? Those two are real buddies. Why do you think she wanted to go to the bar last night? I’m surprised you didn’t know, you two being such good mates.’

  Ava, aware of being wrong-footed, racked her brains for a suitable response. Why hadn’t she known? And since when had Hannah become an expert on Lydia Hall? So far as she was aware, last night was the first time the two women had met. She wanted to ask, but wasn’t prepared to give Hannah the satisfaction. ‘What difference does it make? She can be friends with whoever she likes. I haven’t got anything against Wilder.’

  ‘But your boss has.’

  ‘So what?’

  Hannah’s eyebrows shifted up a little. ‘You don’t think he might be concerned, knowing that you’re spending so much time with someone who’s that close to his greatest enemy?’

  ‘One evening,’ Ava said. ‘It’s hardly a huge amount of time.’

  ‘Still,’ said Hannah smugly. ‘He might not like it.’

  Ava knew that she was trying to drive a wedge between herself and Lydia. Realising that Tash had an interest in the younger girl, Hannah wanted her out of the way. She thought back to the day of the exhibition at Beast when Lydia had offered to introduce her to Guy Wilder. I suppose you’re immune to his charms. Wasn’t that what she’d said? ‘Actually, I think Lydia’s got a bit of a crush on Wilder.’

  Hannah’s face instantly brightened at this piece of news. ‘Really?’

  Ava didn’t have a clue as to whether this was true or not, but if it got Hannah off her back it was worth claiming. ‘Don’t say anything to her, though. She’ll only be embarrassed.’

  ‘No, I won’t. Of course I won’t.’

  Before the exchange could continue, the door to the flat opened and closed, and seconds later Tash came into the kitchen carrying a shopping bag. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were pink from the cold, and her eyes were shining.

  ‘Hi there,’ said Tash, rubbing her hands together. ‘God, it’s cold out there.’ She dumped the bag on the table and went to perch on the radiator.

  ‘You’ll get piles doing that,’ Hannah said.

  Tash laughed. ‘Better that than a cold bum.’ She glanced from one woman to the other. ‘So what have you two been up to?’

  Hannah rose to her feet. ‘Oh, nothing much. Just having a natter. I need the loo. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  Ava waited until she heard the bathroom door close before saying softly, ‘A natter? I’ve just been interrogated to within an inch of my life.’

  ‘About Lydia?’

  ‘Who else? She’s suspicious, Tash. She’s definitely on to you.’

  Tash tilted her head and grinned. ‘Actually, I’ve been to see the lovely Lydia. I popped into Beast on my way home.’

  ‘Are you mad?’ Ava gave her a despairing look. ‘If Hannah finds out, she’ll have a fit.’

  ‘She won’t find out.’

  ‘You hope.’

  ‘I know,’ Tash said. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter because Lydia isn’t interested in me. She likes you, though.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Because she kept asking questions about you.’

  ‘She was probably just making conversation.’

  Tash pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘No, it was more than that. She was definitely fishing. Wanting to know what you liked doing, what kind of music you were into, that kind of thing. She even asked if Chris Street was your boyfriend or just your boss.’

  Ava furrowed her brow. ‘Why would she want to know that?’

  ‘Because she likes you, hun. That’s what people do when they like you.’

  Ava wasn’t so sure. She remembered what Hannah had said earlier about Lydia being close to Guy Wilder. ‘Can I ask you something?’

  But Ava never got the chance to ask. There was the sound of the loo flushing, then a brief pause before the door to the bathroom opened again. Tash quickly raised a finger to her lips.

  ‘Later,’ she whispered. ‘Ask me later.’

  25

  Noah slid out of bed and went to the bathroom for a shower. By the time he got back, Guy was awake, propped up on an elbow with the duvet pushed aside. He was gazing towards the window which, despite the layer of snow on the ground, revealed a square of sky the colour of cornflowers.

  Even after all these years, Noah was still aroused by the sight of his lover’s nakedness. His gaze raked over Guy’s body, taking in the strong muscular arms, the smooth planes of his chest, the curve of his spine. A shaft of winter sun came through the glass, turning his fair hair to a gleaming gold.

  It was Guy’s expression, dark and brooding, that prompted him to ask a question he would never normally ask.

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  Guy’s lips parted as if for once he might be about to share the innermost secrets of his mind, but then the familiar mask slid over his features again. He smiled and shook his head. ‘Nothing worth repeating.’

  Noah didn’t press him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, knowing that this intimate time together would shortly be coming to an end and wanting to savour what remained of it.

  Soon they’d be putting on their clothes, going downstairs and opening the bar. Guy would be absorbed into the lunchtime crowd, the centre of other people’s attention instead of his own.

  ‘Is Jenna coming over tonight?’ asked Noah as casually as he could manage.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘No second thoughts, then?’

  Guy twisted round to lie flat on his back. He put his hands behind his head. ‘Life’s too short for second thoughts.’

  ‘Yeah? Well yours is going to be even shorter when Chris Street catches up with you.’

  ‘That man’s prehistoric, a machismo-fuelled dinosaur. It’s none of his business what his ex-wife chooses to do.’

  But Noah couldn’t be so blasé about it. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours in a state of anxiety, wondering when Street would walk back in and finish what he’d started. Guy wasn’t so much fearless, he thought, as utterly reckless. If Jenna had actually meant something to him, then the risk might have been worth taking, but Guy was only using her. She was bait, a tethered goat, a means to an end.

  ‘What time is it?’ Guy asked.

  Noah picked up his watch from the bedside cabinet. ‘Twenty to eleven.’ Then, in an absent-minded fashion, he opened the top drawer and closed it. It was only after he’d closed it that he became aware of something being missing. Quickly, he opened the drawer again.

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You know what. The gun. Where’s the gun?’

  ‘Oh that,’ said Guy in a languid fashion. ‘I got rid of it.’

  The gun, a small Beretta semi-automatic, had been in the drawer for the past five years. Noah had always hated the thing, but now that it was gone he wished that it wasn’t. ‘And what if Chris Street does come after you? How are you going to defend yourself?’

  Guy’s mouth widened into a smile. ‘Well, not by saying Excuse me while I just nip upstairs for my gun. I mean, it’s not exactly practical, is it?’

  ‘But why now?’ Noah asked.

  ‘You’ve been telling me to get rid of it for ages.’

  ‘And since when did you listen to anything I said?’

  ‘Don’t be like that,’ Guy said. ‘I’ve done what you wanted. You should be pleased.’

  Noah ran his fingers over the s
mooth mahogany of the cabinet. ‘What did you do with it?’

  ‘I put it out with the rubbish.’

  Noah stared at him, his eyes widening with alarm. ‘You did what? For Christ’s sake, if anyone…’ But then he saw Guy’s face and stopped. ‘Yeah, very funny. So what did you really do with it?’

  ‘Dumped it in the river. It’s gone. You don’t have to worry any more.’

  Noah thought of the gun leaving Guy’s hand, moving through the air and falling down towards the water. He thought of the splash it would make, and then the twisting and turning as it spun through the cold murky depths until it came to rest amidst the tangled weeds of the river bed. He gave an involuntary shudder. Sweat prickled on his forehead. He was having one of those eerie, inexplicable sensations as if someone was walking over his grave.

  26

  Danny flicked through the photos on his phone, trying to decide on the best picture to use. They were all good, all compromising, but he needed to find one that was thoroughly obscene. Although it was only twenty-four hours since the set-up, he wanted to strike while the iron was hot. Eventually, he chose a particularly graphic shot that left nothing to the imagination. He got it ready to send and then dialled the number that Morton Carlisle had given him.

  It was picked up after a couple of rings. ‘Yes?’

  ‘Mr Squires?’

  ‘That’s right. Who is this?’

  ‘My name’s Danny, Mr Squires. I just wanted to make sure that you had your phone on you.’

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I’m about to send through a message. It’s a little delicate, something that you might not want the wife to see. I’d appreciate it if you’d call me straight back.’

  ‘What are you —’

  Danny hung up before he had the chance to finish the sentence. Then, with a grin on his face, he sent through the photograph. It would be a few minutes, maybe even five or ten, before he got a call back. The man would panic, sweat, shit himself and think about his options. And then, when he realised that he didn’t have any, he would finally make the call. That was okay. That was fine. He didn’t mind waiting.

  Danny lit a cigarette to help pass the time. He bent down and patted Trojan. ‘It won’t be long now, boy. Everyone has to pay for their sins in the end. And he ain’t no different, is he?’

  The dog lifted his head and wagged his tail.

  ‘Yeah,’ Danny said. ‘There’s no such thing as a free ride. And this one’s gonna be a fuckin’ expensive one.’

  It was seven minutes before the phone started ringing. Danny checked the number and then let it ring a few more times before he picked up. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ asked Squires, his voice cold and abrupt.

  ‘Well, a little civility for starters. There’s no need for that tone. I was thinking ten k would be a fair amount.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Or I send the pictures to your wife.’

  ‘That’s blackmail.’

  ‘Sure it is,’ Danny said. ‘You screw around, mate, you have to pay for it. Or you could come clean and tell the missus what you were doing last night.’ He paused. ‘No? No, I didn’t think so. Women don’t tend to be very understanding about these things, do they? So, I don’t think it’s an unreasonable sum, not when you think of the peace of mind involved.’

  ‘And what’s to stop you coming back for more?’

  ‘I’m not greedy, Mr Squires, and I don’t take any more risks than I need to. You pay me the cash, I give you the photographs, end of story. You won’t ever hear from me again.’

  ‘It’s a Saturday. How am I supposed to get that kind of money on a weekend?’

  ‘There’s plenty of banks open on a Saturday. It’s only ten k, Mr Squires. Peanuts to a man like you. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble in raising that.’

  ‘This is blackmail. I could go to the police.’

  ‘Sure you could. And then you could explain to them why you had sex with a fifteen-year-old girl.’

  There was a swift intake of breath from the other end of the line. ‘She wasn’t… she’s not fifteen.’

  ‘Try telling that to the cops when they’re reading her birth certificate.’

  Squires’s voice turned pleading. ‘But I didn’t know that. For Christ’s sake, I didn’t have a clue.’

  ‘You’ve got a daughter about that age, ain’t you? Shit, that’s gonna be a bit confusing for her, her old man shagging a teenager.’

  ‘Keep my daughter out of this.’

  ‘That’s up to you. Send me a text when you’ve got the money and I’ll tell you where to meet me tonight.’

  ‘It can’t be tonight. I’m busy. I’ve got… I’ve got things I have to do.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to get un-busy. Text me. And don’t leave it too long. I’m not the patient sort.’ Danny hung up before he could respond. He sat back and grinned. It was fortunate, he thought, that so many men listened to their dicks rather than their brain. This would be the most expensive shag Squires had ever had. But then, as Silver never tired of reminding him, she was worth it.

  27

  Jeremy Squires turned up at Belles at exactly eight o’clock. Solomon escorted him to the corner where Danny was sitting waiting.

  ‘Right on time,’ Danny said. ‘Take a pew.’

  ‘I’d rather not,’ replied Squires somewhat stiffly. ‘Let’s just get this over and done with, shall we?’ He glanced nervously around the room. Although it was still relatively early, half the tables were already taken. There were two girls dancing on stage, their bodies glistening with oil. ‘Can we go somewhere more private?’

  Danny sniggered. ‘What, like the Gents’, you mean? Better not. People might talk.’

  Squires stared down at him, his face full of anger and contempt. ‘Do you want your money or not?’

  ‘All in good time. Sit down before you draw even more attention to yourself.’

  Squires hesitated, but eventually, reluctantly, lowered himself into a chair. ‘So how do we do this?’

  Danny could see that he was ill at ease and not just because of the circumstances that had brought him here. He was the kind of man who probably claimed, especially to his wife, that he disapproved of such establishments, and now he was worried that someone he knew might recognise him. ‘Relax,’ he said, enjoying his victim’s discomfort. ‘Where’s the fire? How about a drink? Fancy a Scotch? You may as well enjoy the show while you’re here.’

  ‘I’m not here to socialise.’ Squires glanced pointedly at his watch. ‘I’ve a dinner to attend and I’m already late. Do you want the money or not?’ He took an envelope out of his jacket pocket and smacked it down on the table.

  Danny looked at the envelope, but didn’t pick it up. For him, part of the pleasure in these transactions was in watching the men squirm. Just for a while he had complete and utter power over them; he could destroy their lives by the single simple action of pressing a button on his phone. ‘I dunno. Maybe I don’t fancy doing a deal after all.’

  ‘Don’t mess me about.’

  ‘Why? What are you going to do about it?’

  Squires opened his mouth and then closed it again. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple jumping in his throat.

  Danny despised hypocrites like Squires, men who were all respectability and moral high ground on the outside, but who gave in to temptation at the mere sniff of some free fanny. He stared at him, taking in the perfectly cut silver hair, the expensive shirt and jacket, the gold Omega watch, the wedding ring. Yes, they could easily have stung him for more than ten k. The pathetic piece of shit would have paid twice that.

  After a while, Danny leaned down and picked up the large brown envelope that was leaning against the leg of his chair. He placed it on the table in front of Squires. Inside, were ten A4 prints, a sordid record of the events of last night. In this digital age, the physical photographs were meaningless – the images could still exist on a computer or a phone – but Danny always lik
ed to provide a set, just so the victims knew exactly what they were paying for. It also provided them with the dilemma of what to do with the pictures, where to hide them or how to destroy them.

  Squires ran his tongue along his dry upper lip. He waited a few seconds and then his hand snaked out to grab the envelope. Once he had it, he didn’t seem sure what to do next. He dithered for a moment before curling the envelope into a tube and sliding it into his jacket pocket. ‘This is it,’ he said, standing up. ‘I won’t be paying out any more.’