Stage Fright

by Marianne Delacourt

  I wanted to shunt Dickle out of the way and demand his attention. Instead I walked straight over to Slim and put out my hand. ‘It’s all under control. Come over here and I’ll get you something to drink.’

  Slim’s eyes lost a little of their white-ringed fear when he saw me next to him.

  I deliberately got in his face, blocking out his view of Dickle. ‘It’s under control,’ I repeated.

  The confident rapper persona slipped back into place and he knuckle-fived me. From a guy phobic about being touched by strangers, I took that as a sign of affection.

  ‘You got some crazy-assed bitches out here,’ he said.

  ‘We do,’ I agreed.

  A buzz of conversation started up and suddenly the whole incident was over. I got Slim an OJ from the refreshments table, the Hoods joined the tea party and Ed led Dickle by the hand to Bon, who looked like the Big Bad Wolf about to huff and puff and blow the fans out onto the street.

  They went surprisingly quietly once Ed had given Dickle his autograph. She flashed a triumphant look back at me as she left and I knew it wasn’t over. Dickle was worse than a starving dog after a meaty ham hock.

  She wouldn’t give in until she got what she wanted.

  CHAPTER 17

  The shoot wrapped soon afterwards with Levin issuing high-pitched orders to make sure nothing was left behind.

  While the crew ferried out equipment and props, I got in a huddle with Stuart outside and explained what had happened earlier and why Bon Ames and I had been missing in action.

  ‘Viaspa was here?’

  I nodded. ‘The guy that met him at the airport was Ash Machete. They were together here today and Bon recognised him.’

  Stuart groaned. ‘Ash Machete as well? This can’t be just about Wal and me. Something else has to be going down.’

  ‘That’s what I’m thinking. But what would it be?’ He shrugged. ‘Please tell me that’s all.’

  ‘Nope. There was a guy following me through the city today but I lost him. Then Inigo called me a little while ago. The same guy had turned up at your place and was fiddling with the fuse box. Between us, we scared him off.’

  ‘How? Is Inigo alright?’

  ‘She’s fine. I don’t think he’ll come back again. I have his number—literally.’

  Stuart stared at me open-mouthed.

  ‘Long story,’ I said.

  ‘That all?’

  ‘No. I swung past Jade’s place. She was in the laundromat next door with Dickle’s boyfriend. She’s definitely your leak to the fan club.’

  ‘Then Aprile is trying to make the tour fail.’

  ‘Looks like it,’ I said. ‘He’d know that Slim can’t handle too much close fan attention. He and Jade have been making sure that’s what he gets.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Stuart with heat. ‘So Andreas . . .’

  ‘You know, Stuart, I don’t think the Andreas land development thing has anything to do with Aprile.’

  ‘You mean both of them are interfering in my business?’

  ‘Yeah, but for totally different reasons. My suggestion is that you just feed Jade the wrong information on Slim and the Joel problem will go away. Andreas, on the other hand . . .’

  Stuart’s phone rang and he turned away from me, a finger in his free ear, while he answered.

  Bon stomped through the front door and over to me.

  ‘Bon, the guy in the mill—what’s the story?’ I whispered. ‘I mean, I was being followed earlier today but it wasn’t him.’

  ‘That’s ’cos he was following me.’

  ‘Oh?’ Clear as mud. ‘Why?’

  He shrugged, clearly not prepared to say any more.

  ‘Stuart!’ called Juanita. She was standing at the door with Slim, ready to get into the waiting limo.

  Stuart hung up from his call and waved to her. ‘Juanita needs someone to go with her back to the Stamford.’

  ‘Not me,’ said Bon. ‘Need to find some extra security for tomorrow.’ With that he strode off down the street. We stared after him.

  ‘STUART!’ called Juanita, rather more insistently.

  ‘Tara, can you do a babysitting shift?’ pleaded Stuart.

  ‘Why? Where will you be?’

  ‘I’m going to check on Inigo and meet with . . . Sofia.’

  ‘Oh. Okay.’ I saw my romantic evening with Ed evaporating—unless . . . ‘Can I bring a friend?’

  ‘What friend?’

  ‘Ed, the model on the shoot.’

  ‘The guy who bewitched Dickle? Sure. Buy him dinner on me.’

  ‘Thanks. Call me later if you learn anything.’

  He nodded.

  I left him standing on the pavement and told Juanita to hold the limo while I collected Ed.

  He was inside still, talking to the beautiful girl he’d been acting with during the shoot. When he saw me he disengaged from his conversation and came over. Half a dozen set guys rushed in to fill his space. ‘Sorry to interrupt. You want to come and have dinner with me and Slim?’ I asked.

  He gave me a melting-moment grin. ‘Love to.’

  I glanced at the men hovering around his model partner, who was gazing wistfully at Ed. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Couldn’t be more sure,’ he said. ‘I’ll grab my gear.’ He swung by the make-up chair and picked up a backpack. After a quick handshake with Levin and a wave to Lulu and Shari, he linked his arm through mine.

  I felt all the stress of the last few days fade for a moment. ‘Listen, thanks for handling the crazy fan.

  I didn’t know you had super smoothing powers.’

  ‘I have all sorts of talents.’ He shifted his hand to my butt and cupped it for a second.

  I had an embarrassing notion that I might orgasm on the spot—put it down to the tension of the day—and I pulled away a little.

  He gave me a puzzled look and I shook my head and grinned. ‘Later.’

  •

  By the time we were safely tucked up at the Stamford and Juanita had taken herself off to do whatever Juanita did, Slim and Ed were mates.

  They set themselves up with drinks and room service, switching between NFL replays, basketball and cricket, discussing the merits of the different codes.

  I kicked off my shoes, dipped into their platters of chips and mini-burgers, and used the desktop computer to catch up on my research.

  Ash Machete made Joel Aprile’s assets look like Lego pieces. He owned clubs in Kings Cross, property in Double Bay, Subway and Cold Rock franchises and a tom yum bar in Chinatown. And that was just the stuff that was public. Mr Big was truly Big.

  So what was he doing up here with Johnny Viaspa? And why the pressure on Wal and Stuart for something that happened a few years ago? I leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling, letting the noise from the television and the boys’ sporadic conversation recede into white noise.

  I had a border for my jigsaw but no inner picture yet. I wanted to chew the furniture with frustration. I was tempted to ring Hoshi Hara and pour the entire story out to him.

  No! I told myself. This was my case. I had to stand on my own feet if I was going to do this kind of work.

  I thought through the pieces. What was the common thread? Machete, Viaspa, Wal and Stuart were all connected over crime. Aprile and Stuart were connected over past employment and a woman—Jade. Andreas and Stuart were connected over Sofia and possibly Stuart’s house. But which one of them had set the tail after me? Andreas or Viaspa? And who had set the thugs on me? And why was one of them American? And why was Viaspa’s guy following Bon Ames? Or was that completely random and nothing to do with Slim Sledge, Stuart and the tour? Argh!

  My phone rang just in time to stop me banging my head on the desk.

  ‘Tara,’ I said curtly.

  ‘Ms Sharp? Is this a bad time to call?’

  ‘Lloyd? No, not at all. Bad day. Please tell me you found something.’

  ‘Well, actually, I did. Are you somewhere private?’

 
‘Hold on.’ I put my hand over the receiver. ‘Slim, can I take this in your bedroom?’

  ‘Sure thing, baby girl. Turn my sheets down while you’re there.’

  I made a rude noise and closed the door on them.

  ‘Right,’ I said. ‘What’ve you got?’

  ‘My searches found no information but set off some curious return traffic.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m not certain, but I think this Harvey fellow might work for “the government”.’

  ‘What? You mean ASIO?’

  ‘Well, national security in some form or other. Is that possible, do you think?’

  I quickly went over in my mind what I knew about Harvey. There wasn’t much. Socially incompetent, smart and overly horny completed my picture of him. He’d bonked Enid on the floor of my flat while I was outside taking a call. Wal was there at the time but sound asleep and snoring. I’d discontinued my classes after that and Harvey and Enid had gone their separate ways. Wal had come to work for me.

  ‘I guess so. I barely knew him. Are you sure?’

  ‘No. But I’ve seen this sort of ping-back before. I had to withdraw from the search. It wouldn’t do for me to draw attention from . . . them.’

  ASIO—the Australian Security Intelligence Organ-isation—was Australia’s version of MI6 and the CIA. No doubt there were other covert groups the public didn’t even know existed.

  ‘Of course.’ I wasn’t sure what Lloyd was worried about, but then again, I wasn’t exactly sure what he did either. Whatever it was, I didn’t want to bring him any grief. ‘Look, thanks, Lloyd.’

  ‘I hope it helps.’

  ‘It certainly makes things interesting.’

  ‘Ah, well, it’s what I’d expect from you, Ms Sharp.’

  I sighed. ‘Goodbye, Lloyd. See you soon.’

  ‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘And Ms Sharp . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Be careful. This pool you’re swimming in may be deeper than usual.’

  ‘Always careful.’ I hung up and stood still, thinking. ASIO? What in the hell would Harvey the maybe-ASIO agent be doing at a press call for Slim Sledge in Little Paolo’s bar?

  I could feel a headache of major proportions building in my head. My eyes hurt and my jaw still throbbed where I’d been punched.

  I walked into Slim’s ensuite to use the loo and splash my face with cold water. After several rinses, I stared at myself in the mirror.

  Calm down, keep thinking.

  I looked for the spare towel and dried off. Maybe there was something about Slim I was missing. On impulse, I opened his Louis Vuitton wet pack and started riffling through it. Nothing but the usual: toothpaste, aftershave, condoms.

  I left the bathroom and glanced into the sitting area. They were still riveted to the screen, so I slid the door over quietly and did a quick recce of his suitcase. Most of his clothes were hanging up and his suitcase only held a few belts and caps and several pairs of sneakers.

  His carry bag sat on the luggage rack next to the wardrobe and I tried that next. I felt bad touching his personal items, so after a cursory glance inside, I closed the main zipper.

  The only other thing I could see was his iPod on the bedside table. I flicked through the menu and tapped on the photos. They were arranged in albums and I opened one with a recent date. From what I could tell they were happy snaps from rehab showing a bunch of complete strangers. I went back to the folder menu and opened one of the older albums.

  These pictures were ancient: Slim with some tough-looking dudes in singlets. Each of them wore a bandana around his head or a cap, like it was some kind of uniform. All of them had tattoos.

  ‘What you doing with my stuff?’

  At the sound of Slim’s voice from the doorway I froze. I quickly thumbed back to the song menu and took a breath before I answered.

  ‘Just checking out your iPod. It’s newer than mine.’

  He stepped forward and snatched it out of my hand.

  ‘Don’t touch my stuff, bitch.’

  ‘Everything alright in there?’ called Ed.

  ‘Client talk,’ I called back. ‘Out in a minute.’

  Slim gave me an ugly look that suggested he was thinking about hurting me. He’d forked a previous assistant.

  I made a split-second decision.

  ‘I have something to tell you, Slim. I’m not just your bodyguard; I’m here watching Stuart’s back as well. We think he’s . . . well, let’s just say there’s trouble brewing with the local criminals. I’m going to tell you something that I need you to be calm about. I also need you to help me.’

  The ugly expression was replaced with a look of curiosity. ‘I’m listenin’.’

  ‘I found out today we’re being watched by government people.’

  ‘Get out! What you mean? CIA?’

  I nodded. ‘The Australian equivalent, at least. Is there something about your past that might interest them?’

  Suddenly, all his energy and aggression dissolved and he sank onto the bed.

  ‘What? What is it?’

  He shook his head and dropped his face into his hands. ‘I’m clean, man. I don’t do that stuff no more.

  I haven’t done it for years. Couldn’t be that.’

  ‘Be what?’

  ‘Kings and Aces. I used to run with them back in the day. A lot of us were bangers. Snoop Dogg, Ice-T, Tupac and Young Dre. Can’t help where you grow up, I guess. Some of the best music comes from the corners.

  But I’m done with that. That’s history, man.’

  ‘How did you get out?’ I asked, curious.

  ‘My baby cousin got shot in a drive-by. His mama gave me the money she’d be savin’ to send him to college and told me to get out. I used it to record my first song. I owe her . . . a lot. Feel me?’

  I nodded. But the truth was that Slim’s childhood and mine couldn’t have been further apart. I suddenly felt ashamed of what I’d had, the opportunities I’d squandered.

  ‘But are you ever really out of a gang like that?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll always be one of them that did good. In a weird-assed kind of way they’re . . .’

  ‘Proud of you?’

  ‘Somethin’ like that. All I really know is that I gotta get me through tomorrow night. ’Cos I need this. I need it bad. I got a third chance. Two more than most get. Ain’t gonna fuck it up again.’

  ‘I understand.’ And this time I did. ‘You don’t happen to know a couple of guys called Johnny Viaspa and Ash Machete?’

  ‘Nada.’

  I took a deep breath. ‘Let’s join Ed.’

  He nodded and held out his knuckles for me to tap.

  ‘Your man is okay. Don’t you go blowing it wid him by bein’ a crazy-assed bitch.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘You sound like my mother.’

  ‘Yeah? Your mom must be cool.’

  ‘My mother is not, nor will ever be, cool.’

  •

  We watched sport until past midnight, drinking beer, arguing with the referee’s decisions and laughing at each other’s jokes. It would’ve been the best night I’d had in a long while if my subconscious hadn’t been wrestling with the idea that we were being watched by feds.

  My phone rang just before 1 am. It was Stuart. ‘Listen, can you stay tonight with Slim?’ he asked. ‘I can’t make it.’

  ‘Everything alright? Inigo?’

  ‘Inigo’s fine. She said to tell you that she’d do the cleansing tomorrow when you come back.’

  Note: be busy all day. ‘So why can’t you come back here?’

  ‘Um . . .’

  He sounded slightly embarrassed and straight away I knew. ‘You’re with Sofia?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘In a good way?’

  ‘I think so.’

  I sighed. Stuart needed to catch a break and he was my current boss. My night with Ed was getting another raincheck. ‘Sure.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll be around by eight.�
��

  I hung up, stood up and turned off the telly. The boys looked at me in open-mouthed protest.

  ‘Bedtime,’ I said, pointing a finger at Slim. ‘Big day tomorrow.’

  ‘That woman of yours is damn bossy,’ Slim complained to Ed.

  Ed grinned. ‘She packs a punch too.’ He was referring to the time I accidentally punched him in the nose, thinking he was some guy who had been spying on me.

  ‘Where’s my man Stu?’ Slim asked.

  ‘Stu’s been caught up making some last-minute, er, arrangements. I’ll be staying here with you.’

  ‘Cool dat.’ Slim got up and stretched. He was wearing track pants and a T and his eyes were heavy. He looked as tousled as a man with cornrows can look and it suited him. I forgot for a moment how neurotic he could be and felt a surge of affection.

  ‘Don’t let the bedbugs bite,’ I chimed.

  He gave me a wide-eyed look then saw I was grinning.

  ‘There ain’t no bugs, right?’

  ‘Just kidding—no bugs,’ I promised solemnly.

  He wagged his finger at me and swaggered from the room.

  Ed was on his feet too, looking at me.

  ‘I’m sorry about tonight,’ I said. ‘Things just keep getting messed up.’

  He put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me close. ‘It’s you, Tara. I’m used to it.’

  I gave a weary shrug. ‘I guess you must be.’

  ‘You okay? You seemed distracted tonight.’

  I had the same urge as before, when I’d been thinking about ringing Hoshi—to unburden myself. But this was Ed; a lovely, handsome guy on his way somewhere. I couldn’t drag him into my stuff. If it came back to bite him I’d never forgive myself.

  ‘Just tired,’ I said. ‘Got a few things to figure out.’

  ‘Well, I head home on Monday. We can always set a date for then.’

  ‘Might have to, because I’m going Sunday. But you will come to the concert tomorrow night? Please?’

  ‘Where is it?’

  I grabbed the hotel notepad and jotted down the details. ‘I’ll make sure your name is on the door.’

  ‘Cool.’ He took the paper and stuffed it into his jeans pocket. Then he slid his hands down my arms and began to massage the small of my back.

  I leaned as close as I could and we kissed slowly and deeply. My whole body heated and felt like it might ignite if this went on much longer.