Femme Fatale

by Dominic Piper

  ‘Sorry about that, but I’m glad you were so thorough.’

  ‘I mean, it wasn’t impossible to get in here, but that was only because you weren’t in and I knew what I was doing. It took me ten minutes to work out your front door and I didn’t expect your squeaky floor, you know? I froze when I stepped upon it. I was expecting booby traps. I was expecting a crossbow bolt to fire out of the fucking wall.’

  I laugh at this. ‘That’s something I may consider in the future.’

  ‘So what is it? Have you got people after you? Are you being hunted? Mr Sheng told me what you did to those guys in the car park. The damage. That’s not just some private detective shit, is it. I’ve met private detectives, you know?’

  ‘Were they as charming as me?’

  ‘Hah! You’re right-handed, but you always hold your drinks in your left hand. And you’re switched on all of the time. What’s with that? One of the guys sent to find out where you lived said he was following you after the two girls had dropped out and he took their place. He said you just vanished into thin air. He said like he felt you were playing with him. Then he saw you getting a cab. He said you were behind him and that it was impossible.’

  ‘Maybe he’s not as good as he thinks he is; just like Lee Ch’iu. Listen, Caroline. I need to talk to you. Can we forget about me for a moment, difficult as that may be for you?’

  ‘I’m going to find out, baby. I’m going to find out. I’m gonna make you my special project. What d’you want to know about Rikki?’

  ‘OK. Here’s what’s going on. Rikki had a relationship with this woman. She’s a burlesque performer. Her name’s Paige McBride.’

  ‘Rikki? Impossible.’

  ‘I said he had a relationship, not was in a relationship. He was a big fan of her as a performer and supplied her with heroin from time to time. OK so far?’

  ‘OK. I get it. Go on.’ She keeps glancing at her sports bag. I wonder what’s in it.

  ‘Now this same woman used to have a boyfriend. It hadn’t been going on for very long; maybe about a month. But this guy was warned off by a pair of really creepy characters.’

  ‘Warned off going out with the girl?’ She pulls both off her bra straps off her shoulders. I ignore this, but it’s difficult.

  ‘Yes. He didn’t do what they said, so they eventually put more pressure on him and seriously assaulted him. So then he backed off and dumped her.’

  ‘How did they seriously assault him?’

  ‘They broke his arm with an iron bar.’

  ‘The fucks.’ She slowly rubs her shoulder to get rid of the thin marks the bra straps have left behind.

  ‘Yeah. I spoke to this guy and he told me exactly what happened. Now I’m going to describe a scenario to you and I want you to tell me how Rikki would react under the same circumstances. This may not be what happened at all, but it’s a possibility.’

  ‘Why is it so warm in here? Is it because of that restaurant downstairs?’

  ‘That and the fact it’s August.’

  ‘Oh yeah. I forgot. Haven’t you got air con?’

  ‘So Rikki is walking along the street minding his own business when a car draws up beside him. A heavy-set white guy in his sixties gets out of the car and addresses Rikki by name. Even though Rikki has never seen this guy before, the guy knows who he is. He’s very polite and smiling. He’s very friendly and avuncular. It could be that he implies that he’s a police officer, although he may not have a warrant card to show. He may just give off a police officer vibe.’

  ‘OK. I get it. Rikki would be cool. If he thought the guy was the police, he’d take it easy. He wouldn’t want trouble.’

  ‘But then this guy’s attitude changes; perhaps he invites Rikki to get in the car with him, perhaps not. He tells him that he doesn’t want him to see Paige McBride anymore. Maybe he has an obnoxious or aggressive attitude when he says this. Rikki looks at the car this guy has got out of. It’s a Mercedes S Class. There’s a driver in the driver’s seat. Maybe a chauffeur, possibly an accomplice.’

  ‘Rikki would be wondering what was going on.’

  ‘Exactly. A lot of things would be going through his head. Does this guy know about the heroin? Is he the police? No, he can’t be. The police don’t act like this; neither do they go around in chauffeured Mercedes. What’s this all about? Is it Paige McBride’s boyfriend? No – he’s too old. Rikki would feel, rather like the real boyfriend did, that a stranger suddenly had a window into his personal life.’

  ‘He’d be starting to get angry now.’ She stubs her cigarette out and raises her eyebrows. ‘He has a short fuse, but he’s aware he has to control it when he’s out in the gweilo world, you know? He’d still be cool, I think. He’d disguise what he was feeling.’

  ‘Sure. But now the guy threatens him. He says that he knows all about him and could make life very difficult for him if he doesn’t stop seeing Paige. Rikki doesn’t know if he’s bluffing or not. Rikki doesn’t know whether this guy realises he’s speaking to someone who would be quite capable of slitting his throat.’

  ‘Or pulling his fingernails out one by one.’

  ‘That as well.’

  ‘Or chaining him to a hot radiator for three days without food or drink.’

  ‘Now you have to remember that this guy thinks Rikki is Paige’s boyfriend; a boyfriend who’s a nuisance and has to be scared off. I think this is what this is all about. I think there’s a guy out there and he’s obsessed with Paige McBride and if you’re her boyfriend or if he thinks you’re her boyfriend, you better watch out. I’m calling him Mr X.’

  ‘So the old guy in the Mercedes – is he the one? Is he Mr X?’

  ‘No. I think he’s a foot soldier. Him and his assistant both.’

  ‘Is the assistant the chauffeur?’

  ‘No. The assistant is a different guy. Forget the chauffeur. So by this time Rikki is royally pissed off. Is there any chance he’d pull a knife on this guy or something?’

  ‘He always carries a flick-knife, but as I said, this would not be an occasion to use it. Not in broad daylight in the street and certainly not with a gweilo who wasn’t connected to business, especially if there was a chance he might be a policeman. If something like that happened, Rikki would probably get washed, no matter what his value. The last thing that someone like Mr Sheng would want would be hassle from the police. Murder of gweilo is bad publicity and would be very, very bad for business, particularly now. Things are very delicate at present.’

  ‘Sorry – washed?’

  ‘Killed. Rubbed out. Chopped. But I couldn’t say one hundred per cent, you know? Rikki might have been rubbed the wrong way in some way I can’t imagine. Maybe he didn’t care for this guy’s attitude. Then he might use his knife. He can be capricious. I can’t really tell without being there, you know?’

  ‘Now Lee Ch’iu told me that Rikki had been getting hassle from some gweilo and that it had bugged him. I’m assuming that the scenario I’ve described actually happened in some way, perhaps more than once, and that’s what Lee was referring to.’

  ‘Could be. Hard to say without asking Rikki.’

  ‘Now with the real boyfriend, there was an initial warning and then three weeks later he gets the iron bar treatment. The three-week gap may mean nothing, of course. With Rikki, the warning seems to have taken place around the sixteenth of July, but Rikki was still around a month later. Might not be significant; perhaps they had trouble finding him.

  ‘The genuine boyfriend was a boxer. He was a tough, fit athlete. Two men, including the one from the Mercedes, went around to his flat and worked him over. One held him down while the other did the damage. Could Rikki look after himself in a situation like that?’

  ‘Oh yeah. I mean – shit. He was a crazy Bruce Lee fan. Started Wing Chun when he was eleven and Jeet Kune Do when he was fourteen. I think it was so he could do all the moves in Bruce’s films to begin with, but then he got serious about it all. That’s sixteen years of training. Two gwei
lo? Two anyone. No problem.’

  ‘They took the other guy by surprise, even though he could probably have killed one of them with a single punch. One of them knocked on his door, he opened it – bam! – a totally unexpected uppercut. Completely out of the blue.’

  ‘OK. So we don’t know who these people are at all?’

  ‘There’s a third person involved. Directly involved in the boyfriend’s assault, I mean. I’m working on him. But the two I mentioned just disappeared into the ether.’

  She flashes me a wicked smile. ‘I know how you can get them.’

  ‘Yeah. So do I. I’m going to be doing it tonight.’

  ‘You and her. Are you going to…’

  ‘Jealous, Caroline?’

  She blushes. ‘I meant…’

  ‘There’s a fashion show tonight at The Steel Yard. She has this bodyguard or minder or whatever he’s called. I think he’s supplying Mr X with information about the men in her life. I’m going to give the impression that I’m one of them.’

  ‘Are you going to kiss her?’

  ‘Of course not. This is work.’

  ‘What time does this fashion show start?’

  ‘Nine o' clock.’

  ‘OK. You want to have sex now?’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘I’ll go and take a shower. Take a look in the bag.’

  She heads for the bathroom, looking over her shoulder and giving me a coy smile. I pick her sports bag up off the floor, put it on the table and unzip it so I can take a look inside. She’s been shopping. Like I said before, she’s something else. She really is.

  28

  THE STEEL YARD

  The Steel Yard is basically three converted railway arches in Allhallows Lane, a tiny passage that’s literally a stone’s throw from the River Thames and right in the middle of the City of London’s financial district. Considering that it’s been frequently used for raves, this seems an incredibly inappropriate spot for such a venue, but it seems to be doing well and is still obscure enough to be cool.

  Paige and I arrive there just as people are starting to mill around outside. They know who she is at the door so we walk straight in like big celebs. I’m wearing the same clothing I wore at Bordello, for the sole reason of making it obvious to Declan who I am, in case it had slipped his mind, if he has one.

  I didn’t know what to expect, but this place looks amazing. Exposed brick railway arches are spectacularly lit up by orange and purple LED lighting which is constantly changing in tone and brightness. Right above our heads is a hi-tech lighting rig which is firing bright patterned spots at the floor and walls. The floors are brand new and look like pine, but are probably something harder to withstand all the dancing. The predominant smells are fresh paint, alcohol and perfume.

  There’s a big bar to our left and next to it a DJ is playing about five seconds of a variety of tracks before settling on a bass-heavy ambient thump you can feel in your chest and teeth. As this starts, the lights change to a deep blue which somehow makes this huge space seem smaller and more intimate.

  Straight ahead of us is a large stage which has been extended into a catwalk and on the wall behind it is a massive black and white photograph of Paige in a black wig with Mademoiselle Véronique underneath in curvy pink neon lighting. It’s a head and shoulders shot which makes her look as if she’s naked when it was taken. Maybe she was.

  Paige points to our left. ‘There’s a chillout area over there if it gets too much for you.’

  ‘It’s already too much for me.’

  ‘Come here.’

  She puts her arms around my neck and we kiss.

  ‘Did you feel anything that time?’ I ask.

  ‘Less than nothing. In fact, I feel slightly nauseous. Declan is right behind you, about ten feet away. He’s watching. Hence the kiss.’

  ‘Let him watch. I don’t care who knows about us now. And you don’t have to keep on making excuses. I know you want me.’

  ‘Caught out again. You’re so brash and devil-may-care. My parents will hate you.’

  I grab her shoulders and pull her closer in. I can feel her breathing change. I’ve got to dump these motorcycle helmets somewhere.

  ‘What’s the changing room situation here?’

  ‘There’s a proper changing room right behind the stage and a sort of green room to the left of it.’

  ‘Got it.’

  I disengage myself from her, turn around and head straight for Declan. He looks alarmed when he sees me coming.

  ‘Hey there. Remember me? It’s Damien, isn’t it?’

  ‘Declan,’ he growls, puffing his chest out in an attempt to become taller. This never works; it just doesn’t.

  ‘Oh yeah. Listen.’ I hand him both crash helmets. He holds them in his hands as if they were several tons of rotting boiled dog shit. ‘Would you mind finding somewhere to put these? Paige and I don’t want to carry them around all night. Maybe you could put them by Paige’s stuff in the changing room. It’s back there. Nice to see you again, Damien.’

  I turn my back on him and walk back to Paige, who has been to the bar and got me a non-alcoholic cocktail.

  ‘How did it go?’

  ‘He wants to kill me.’ I take a sip of the cocktail. ‘What is this?’

  ‘It’s called Sham-pagne. Elderflower, fizzy water and lime cordial.’

  ‘Delicious.’

  ‘I’m going to tell you a secret. That was the first time I’ve ever been on the back of a motorbike.’

  ‘What did you think?’

  ‘Exhilarating. I particularly liked the way you took an insanely long route to get here so you could enjoy having my arms around your waist for a little longer.’

  ‘You see right through me.’

  ‘It’s not difficult. I’m going to go and get changed. I don’t know what you’re going to do. This is what will happen. I’ll get changed, then at nine o’ clock I’ll go onstage with Adonay Robel and do a quick talk about the line. Adonay will then say something. We haven’t planned anything.’ She stops and yawns. She looks tired. ‘Then the models will come on and do the fashion show. Then Adonay and I will go onstage again and thank everyone.’

  ‘You have a tough life.’

  ‘I’m glad someone appreciates it. After the show, there’ll be food and then the DJ will start with the dance music for those that want to dance. I never dance, in case you were hoping for a smooch.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to ask.’

  ‘Now I’m hurt. Take a look at the seating around the catwalk. All those seats are reserved. Your seat is on the right six down from the front of the stage. I’m next to you on the left and Emma is on your right. Oh, and just so you know; we don’t call each other by our professional names in social situations, so Emma Antonsen is Emma and not LouLou.’

  ‘I understand.’

  ‘Oh! Here she is now.’

  Emma Antonsen is tall, has very short blonde hair and amazing eyes that are lined with blobs of yellow makeup which look like she daubed them on when she was drunk. Undoubtedly an expensive, professional job. She’s wearing tight blue denim jeans and a matching jacket which is unbuttoned to reveal a mouth-watering cleavage. She hugs Paige and almost crushes her.

  ‘Baby,’ she says to Paige while looking at me. ‘So what’s going on? Is this your new man? I put your stuff over the back of your chair. Can I get free samples? I love you.’

  ‘This is Daniel Beckett,’ says Paige. ‘Daniel. This is Emma.’

  ‘Hi, LouLou,’ I say, to get a cheap laugh from Paige who punches my arm. Emma air kisses me. She smells of soap. It isn’t soap; it’s Calèche by Hermes.

  ‘You’re sitting next to Daniel for the show,’ says Paige. ‘No touching.’

  ‘As if I would do something like that!’ grins Emma, before heading off to the bar and leaving us alone again.

  ‘Listen, Paige,’ I say. ‘I’m going to visit Fly a Kite tomorrow, just to sound them out, and I’m going to let Declan know I’m doing it.
I need a fake occupation to make my reason for going there convincing. Any ideas? He’s watching us. Kiss my neck before you answer.’

  ‘This is some job you have, isn’t it?’ She leans forwards and plants the gentlest of kisses on the side of my neck. I experience a brief adrenalin surge. ‘You could be an associate of Kelly Senac, my agent. You might be visiting the charity to discuss the possibility of more charity events featuring Kelly’s clients. No. Don’t say you’re an associate. That would be suspicious because of the other night when I was introduced to you by Anouk. If you were an associate, I’d have known you.’

  ‘So much for that, then. Thanks, anyway.’

  ‘Tell him you’re a freelance who connects charities to entertainment agencies for a commission. They do exist. I’ve met them. They’re assholes. I really have to go and get changed. Have fun.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘And if I see you look at another woman I’ll kill you.’

  She kisses me one more time and wiggles off. I go to the bar and get another Sham-pagne. After the first sip my teeth beg for mercy. I look around for Declan, but I can’t see him anywhere. I take a walk around, just to make myself noticeable if he’s hiding somewhere and spying on me. There are a lot of great-looking women here. I somehow expected the age range to be lower, but it’s more like seventeen to seventy.

  I decide to take look in the green room. Before I go in I can feel a presence and I know it’s Declan. As I enter the room, he’s just slipping his mobile into the jacket of his monkey suit. He looks up at me as if I’ve just caught him on the toilet.

  ‘Hello, mate,’ I say to him in as cheery a way as I can manage. I look at my watch. ‘Few more minutes to kill then it all starts happening.’

  He grunts and looks away from me. I sit down across from him. ‘I guess Paige has told you that we’re an item. I’m sure I don’t have to tell a guy like you how lucky I am. I guess you’ve seen more of her than most! And she’s so nice as well, you know?’

  ‘Congratulations.’

  ‘Thanks. That’s very nice of you. It was just one of those…I mean, it hit me like an express train. Her too, I think. Sometimes there’s an instant chemistry between two people that’s impossible to ignore. How long have you been working for her now? It must be a while.’