by Rhys Bowen
There was no point in arriving at the Monkey’s Uncle before nine-thirty or ten o’clock. Evan remembered from the time he was on the beat in Swansea that the clubs only livened up after that hour. He dressed in the most casual clothes he owned—a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Even so, he looked too old and too dean cut. He tried restyling his hair, but it didn’t seem to want to adapt to a more trendy style. He certainly wasn’t about to go out and buy styling gel. Eventually he drove off, not too hopeful about getting much out of the kids at the club and certainly not looking forward to the evening ahead. This time he had pictures of both Tony and Alison, cut from the newspapers, in his wallet.
Sound was spilling out onto Kingsway, the deep throb of the bass beat coming up through the soles of his feet as he waited in line. Rather than flash his warrant card this time, he paid admission and moved up the stairs as part of a throng of kids. Some of them looked at him strangely. He gave what he hoped was an encouraging smile. A couple of the girls smiled back. The sound grew louder as they moved up the stairs until it hit him with an almost physical blow as he entered the room. The joint certainly was jumping tonight. The room was in darkness, except for a laser light show that flashed random red patterns across walls and ceiling and a twirling glass ball that peppered the dancers with squares of spotlight. Up on the stage at the far end, five shadows in black leather moved in grotesque exaggeration to the music—if that is what it could be called. They were all tall, skinny, and had long untidy hair; it was hard to tell if they were male or female until one of them grabbed the mike. “I wan-choo!” he roared into it in a gravelly voice. “I wan-choo. I wan-choo.” Each time he shouted the words, he struck a provocative pose, hips thrust forward, lower lip pouting open. “I wan-choo.” Those seemed to be the only words, but the kids loved it. They stood, packed onto the floor so tightly that real dancing was impossible, jerking to the rhythm, hands swaying above their heads, girls squealing from time to time.
Evan eased in against a wall. He saw no chance of questioning anybody with this row going on. He looked around for a bar and found only soft drinks being served. Of course, the place catered to a very young crowd. In spite of the lack of alcohol, some of the kids already looked high or spaced out, making Evan wonder what kind of drugs were being passed around in the darker corners. He had heard about ecstasy but hadn’t come across it in his own experience. A girl in the center of the floor had both eyes closed and was swaying like a young tree, arms above her head. The expression on her face was close to ecstasy. Evan watched with interest.
The number ended. Evan pulled out the photos, although the light was too poor to see much. He showed them to one group after another but got no response.
“I come with my mates. I don’t notice who else is here,” one girl said.
“My boyfriend would kill me if I checked out other blokes,” another added.
At last, in desperation, he went downstairs again to the kiosk at the front entrance, where money was taken and the kids were vetted before entering. He showed the pictures to the two young men at the desk. One was large enough to be an official bouncer if needed.
“You don’t remember either of these kids coming to the club recently, do you?” Evan asked.
The two boys peered at the pictures. “What’s this in aid of?” one of them asked. “Are you police?”
“Yeah,” Evan admitted. “We’re checking out this bloke’s alibi. He claims he used to come here on Friday nights. I thought you might have seen him or the bird.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen her,” the other boy said, “but I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him.”
“Can you remember when and who he was with?”
“It wasn’t long ago. Two or three weeks, I’d say. I went out for a smoke and I noticed him hanging around outside, talking to a tall bloke with red hair. Then the redheaded bloke left, and this one came into the club. I’m pretty sure it’s him.”
“Brilliant,” Evan said. “Thanks. Cheers. You’ve been very helpful. Now I suppose I’d better go up there again and see if anyone remembers seeing her.”
Reluctantly he climbed the stairs. A slow number was now being played, the bodies on the floor twitching to the deep thud-thud of the drum beat. Evan leaned against the wall, and let his gaze sweep the room. He knew the logical thing to do would be ask some girl to dance and then start chatting. But he wasn’t very good at chatting and even worse at dancing. The girls all seemed to be in tight little cliques. At a far table he noticed a group with their heads together, talking away as if the sound didn’t bother them at all. They were dressed in what he supposed was the current fashion—skimpy halter tops, skin-tight jeans, hair all the colors of the rainbow and spiked too, rings through eyebrows, lips, and, he suspected, navels. One of the girls looked up, and he saw her start as she noticed him across the room. Not a bad-looking kid if it wasn’t for the blue spiked hair. He started to inch around the wall, dodging flailing arms and legs, toward her. It was only when he was a few feet away that she turned around again and he recognized her.
Chapter 19
Evan sauntered over to the table and stood looking down at the expectant group of girls. “You want to dance?” he asked the girl with the blue spiked hair.
“All right.” She got to her feet, giving her friends an embarrassed smile. “See you later then.” She followed him out into the middle of the dance floor. Evan went to put an arm around her waist, thought better of it, and began to gyrate in time to the music. She started to move with him.
“I thought you said you were a hopeless dancer.”
“What are you doing here?” Evan hissed into her ear.
“I’ve gone undercover.” Bronwen gave him a challenging smile. “I knew you’d be useless in a club.”
“Too bloody right.” He was still gazing down at her in stunned admiration. She even had a small stud through her left nostril. “You look amazing.”
“Flatterer. I bet you say that to all the teenage girls. And now that I know you go around picking up strange chicks in clubs, I’m keeping closer tabs on you.”
The music changed to a slower beat. He put his arms around her waist and pulled her closer, taking care not to hold her too comfortably. “So how did you get here?”
“I got fed up with sitting at home, waiting to be rescued from a fate worse than death. So when I found that the Fearnalls were coming into Swansea today, I hitched a ride. Then I had fun shopping at all the trendy boutiques and here I am.”
“You look amazing.”
“You already said that. Do you think I should keep the look?”
“That is only a wig, isn’t it?” A worried frown crossed his face.
“And the stud is only screwed into my nose, but I’m obviously convincing so far. I’ve found out a whole lot of good stuff from my new mates over there.” She turned back to them and waved. “They think you’re cute, by the way. Too old, but cute.”
The number ended.
“Taking a quick break, everyone,” the lead singer announced.
Evan let his hands slide from her waist. “I should let you get back to your table to carry on the good work then.”
She nodded. “Yes, I don’t want them to think I’m a pushover. Why don’t you wait for me outside? It’s over at midnight.”
“All right. I’m parked a little way down the street.”
He started to walk her back to her table. She put out a hand to stop him. “See you later, then.”
As she reached the girls at her table Evan heard her say, “I thought I’d never get rid of him. Did you see the way he danced?”
He could still hear the giggles as he reached the door. He let himself into the car and sat in the cold darkness, waiting. He knew he should be grateful that she had come to help him. He knew he shouldn’t feel annoyed, but he did. He was supposed to be the one who investigated and solved crimes. Now it seemed that Bronwen might even be better at his job than he was. The possibility of the rugby team seemed all the
more promising but getting back in shape all the harder with Bronwen back again. He didn’t want to tell her what he was doing, in case he tried out for the team and didn’t make it. He was, after all, a little old for boyish dreams.
The waiting seemed to go on and on. He was only wearing a T-shirt and wished he had brought a jacket. At last a great tide of young people spilled out onto Kingway, passing him in noisy groups, girls flirting with boys, boys flirting with girls, in final pickup attempts of the night. At last he caught sight of her in the rearview mirror, still with her giggly friends.
“See you tomorrow maybe,” he heard her call, then she ran to the car, a little unsteady on her high platform shoes. She opened the passenger door and got in. “Let’s get out of here before they see it’s you,” she said.
“Who do they think it is?” He started the car and pulled away from the curb.
“My dad. I told them he always insists on coming to get me. That way I didn’t have to hang around picking up boys with them.”
Evan looked at her and laughed. “I’d love to see their faces if they found out you were really a twenty-nine-year-old schoolteacher.”
“Benefits of good genes and a pure life,” Bronwen said, removing the blue spiked wig and shaking out her hair. “I’ve always looked young for my age. I used to ride for half fare on the buses when I was a sixth-former. Oh, it feels wonderful to have that thing off my head.”
“Where on earth did you find it?”
“At a costume shop. Cool, isn’t it? My new mates thought I was majorly cool.”
“You said you’d found out good stuff.” He put the car into low gear to climb the hill. “Have you really found out anything useful? Did any of them know Alison?”
“Oh yes.” She looked smug. “Well, they didn’t exactly know her, but they knew who she was. One of them, Tiffany, told me something very interesting. She said that Alison was using cocaine.”
“What?” Evan almost missed the bend in the road. “How would she know that?”
“Well, she didn’t exactly know, but she overheard Alison talking to a friend back in the spring. Alison must have been home for the Easter holidays. Tiffany was in the loo at the club, and she says she heard this girl mention coke. Then she went on talking about how hard it had been to get her hands on the money and how Tony had better show up with the goods. They obviously didn’t know that anyone was in the end stall, Tiffany said, and she was curious because they both had posh accents. So she peeked out and saw them, and then later that night she kept her eye on Alison and she saw her go off with Tony Mancini.”
“She knew who he was, did she?”
“Oh yes. They all knew who he was because he was Penlan rubbish and he’d just got out of prison, so they knew enough to stay away. Besides, he wasn’t exactly sexy, so it wasn’t as if they were missing anything, according to them.”
“Well, I’ll be—” Evan muttered. “Now I’m beginning to put two and two together, Bron. The only piece of useful information I gathered this evening was that someone had seen Tony outside the club talking to a tall, red-haired boy. That had to be Jingo Roberts, leader of Tony’s old gang, who claimed that he hadn’t seen anything of Tony since he got out of jail. And Tony lied to me again, claiming that Jingo didn’t want anything to do with him. But obviously he’s back at his old job—running errands for Jingo. When you think about it, it makes sense. Why else would an attractive, posh girl like Alison Turnbull want to hang around with a skinny nobody like Tony Mancini?” He slapped his hand excitedly against the steering wheel. “And that was why he went to her house that night, Bron. Now I come to think of it, he said he was bringing her something. That something must have been cocaine.”
The excitement drained from his voice as he took this one stage further. “Oh my God, Bronwen. There’s no way he’ll talk his way out of this one. They’ll crucify him.”
“And you don’t think he should be crucified? Isn’t it time to face facts, Evan? He was her drug dealer. Maybe she hadn’t paid up. Maybe she had talked too much. Drug dealers are always bumping off dangerous clients. He had sex with her, and then he killed her.”
Evan sighed. “I don’t know anymore, Bron. I just don’t know what to think. I was so sure he was innocent and now, every time I turn around, we’ve come up with more proof that he’s guilty as hell. Maybe you’re right about me. You always said I’m too gullible. He’s probably just a good liar, and he knows a sucker when he sees one.”
The car came to a halt outside Evan’s house. “So what will you do now?” Bronwen asked.
“Go and talk to him first thing tomorrow morning. Get the truth out of him this time, even if I have to beat it out of him.”
He came around to open her car door, but she was already halfway out. “I hope your mother won’t mind my reappearing like this.”
Evan took in the tight tank top with the red lips across it. A worried frown crossed his face. “Where are your real clothes?”
Bronwen bent to retrieve the carrier bag at her feet. “I’ve got jeans and a shirt in here. I changed in a lady’s loo. Do you think it matters how I look at this time of night? At least I’ve taken off the blue hair.”
“My mother will have gone to bed anyway,” Evan said. “Of course, that doesn’t mean she won’t wake up the moment she hears my key in the door. She always used to.”
“All right. I’ll put on my own shirt, just in case.” Bronwen slipped it over her head.
“So where did you leave the rest of your stuff?”
“At home. I slipped out with the minimum of baggage. Nightdress, toothbrush. That’s about it. I thought we could go back and collect my suitcase on our way home.”
“And Prince William. I hope you haven’t forgotten about him.”
“He’ll be fine until we pick him up. Of course, he might have doubled in size. Daddy is spoiling him with all kinds of tidbits.”
He put his key into the front door. “You take my room, and I’ll sleep on the sofa,” Evan whispered as he shut the door behind them.
“I can take the sofa.”
“Not if you want to avoid giving my mother a heart attack when she comes down in the morning.” He grinned at her. “I’m glad you’re here.” He took her into his arms. “I really missed you.”
“I thought you were having too much fun without me and didn’t miss me at all. I thought that maybe the sultry Maggie was keeping you entertained.”
“Don’t be daft.” He thought it wise not to mention the visitor earlier that evening. Women were apt to take things the wrong way. Instead he bent to kiss her.
“Evan? Is that you? You’ve not brought Maggie back with you at this time of night, have you?” his mother’s voice came down the stairs.
Evan sighed. “No, Mum. It’s Bronwen. She missed me and she’s come back. She’s taking my room and I’ll have the sofa tonight, so go back to bed.”
In the morning the atmosphere around the breakfast table was decidedly strained.
“I was sure Evan told me he was going to fetch you today.” Mrs. Evans put a cup of tea in front of Bronwen.
“He was, but I got impatient and hitched a ride with friends.”
“If you’d only let me know you were coming, I could have got the room ready.” Mrs. Evans flashed a reprimanding glare. “I got the fright of my life, waking up and seeing the two of you down there. It’s not like you, Evan, to come sneaking in and out in the middle of the night.”
“Mum, I am thirty years old. I didn’t think I had a curfew any longer.” He tried a smile but she was clearly not amused.
As soon as breakfast was cleared away they made an escape.
“I’m clearly not in her good books now,” Bronwen said.
“She doesn’t like surprises. Never did.” Evan squeezed her shoulder. “And it has nothing to do with you. She’s only worrying that the house wasn’t perfect. She’ll get over it.”
“So are you going to confront Tony now? I presume you don’t want me with you.�
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“I don’t think they’d let you in. And you’re right. I wouldn’t want you there.” His face lit up. “But I do have a good idea. You were so successful last night. How about a repeat performance today?”
“The blue wig?”
“No, let’s not go that far. I wondered if you could speak to some of Alison’s former schoolfriends for me. They might tell you things they wouldn’t tell me.”
“How should I present myself? I’d need an excuse to go barging in.”
“You could say you were at boarding school with Alison. You were in the sixth form when she was a new girl. You’d just heard what happened to her. If you leave your hair loose and wear those sexy jeans from last night, you can get away with looking young enough.”
“I’m glad you found the jeans sexy.” She smiled at him. “Betsy better watch out. She’ll have a fashion rival when I get home.”
“So you’ll do it?”
“Of course. Give me the names and addresses.”
Half an hour later Evan was parked outside the prison. The guard at the gate recognized him. “Another grilling for Mancini?” he asked. “Give him hell. Cocky little bastard.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Evan nodded grimly. He tried to collect his thoughts and calm his racing pulse as he followed the guard down the tiled hallway to the interview room. It seemed to take a long time for Tony to appear. When he came in and saw Evan, his eyes were hopeful.
“You got something for me? You getting me out of this dump?” he asked as the guard locked them into the room together.
“I’ve got something for you, all right,” Evan said, trying to keep his voice even. “But not quite the same sort of thing that you were bringing to Alison Turnbull the night she died.”
The expectant look faltered. “What d’you mean?”
“You know damned well what I mean, you lying little prick. Did you think I was completely stupid? You’ve done nothing but lie to me since the first time I saw you. I should have put my hands around your throat then and finished you off.”
