“I don’t know anything about that,” she had said sullenly. “I’ve been at boarding school since I was thirteen. I’m only home for the summer holidays.”
But she had known about the late-night meetings and the cars outside with smoked-glass windows. She had known that her mother looked tired and jumped every time the phone rang. She had known enough to feel uneasy.
Eventually she talked to Rhodes. He had been wonderfully supportive, totally committed to catching and jailing her parents’ killers. He had come through for her, given her her day in court, given her closure.
But it wasn’t closure. It was the opening of a whole new Pandora’s box.
On the day the arsonists were sentenced, he had taken her out for a celebration dinner, just the two of them, at a little place in Soho.
“What will you do now?” he had asked. “So alone, and just sixteen. Where will you go?”
“School, I guess,” she said. “I’ve an aunt in Wales. Perhaps I’ll spend the holidays with her.”
He had paid the bill, taken her out along the street. At some of the doors, girls caked in makeup, spilling out of corsets, touted for business. Flipp, openmouthed, couldn’t help but stare.
“Filth,” muttered Rhodes, taking her arm and speedily steering her along Greek Street. “I’m so sick of filth. It’s all I ever see in this job, day in, day out.”
He stopped at the corner and looked down, earnest and haunted, into Flipp’s eyes. “When I’m with someone like you, I get to forget that, just for a while. You make me remember what I’m doing this for. People like you. Clean and decent and innocent.”
His hands were shaking, holding hers, twining their fingers together.
“I need you, Philippa,” he said. “I need you in my life. Don’t leave me.”
He had played an evil trick, made her feel he was the vulnerable one, made a sixteen-year-old girl feel that she would bear the guilt for his bitterness and cynicism if she didn’t give herself up to him.
Flipp, the handcuffs biting into her skin, swallowed bile at the memory.
“You did it,” she said, weeping, “because it was your job. You’re a copper. You’re meant to catch killers. Don’t make out it was some kind of favour I should be eternally indebted to you for. That’s just the way you twisted it. And I hate you for it, Pete. Do you get that? I hate you.”
“That’s what the girls always say,” threw in Cordwainer, laconic now that his work of trussing Rocky was done.
“And what have you got to do with it? How come you’re both here? I don’t understand.”
“Oh, me and Charlie boy go back a long way,” Rhodes said carelessly, sitting down on the bench beside Flipp and ruffling her hair. Cordwainer took up a place on her other side. “Used to play cards together, didn’t we, Big C? Back when you were up in London.”
“We’ve stayed in touch,” confirmed Cordwainer. “Superintendent Rhodes is looking forward to visiting my new casino resort when it’s built.”
“Well, it won’t be, will it?” said Flipp, taking what slight vengeance she could in the circumstances. “You’ve seen the Gazette today, have you?”
She could see that Cordwainer was struggling to retain his appearance of nonchalance, but he managed a dry, “That’s a mere blip. It can be ironed out. I have the planning permission in the bag and, what’s more, I can prove Michelle was acting maliciously—a woman scorned. As for the pet journalist, well. We can soon deal with him.”
“You can’t force the whole world to adjust its morals for you,” Flipp said. “You just can’t. You’ll be stopped.”
“I won’t be stopped,” Cordwainer insisted. “Nobody can stop me.”
“How did you find us?”
Rhodes grinned and kissed her neck. Flipp tried to duck away, but it was impossible without incurring a collision with Cordwainer.
“I got a little tip-off,” he said. “From a very nice young lady in Goldsands. Told me you’d run off with a gentleman called Rocky. Well, I had a friend in Goldsands—I think you know him—so I gave him a call. Imagine my surprise to find out that you had been working for him.”
“There isn’t much Rocky does that I don’t know about.” Cordwainer took up the story. “I knew he had a friend with a boat here. It seemed the obvious move to make—a moonlight flit over the Channel. So I asked around at the harbour, and here we are. What a merry dance you’ve led the pair of us, Flipp.”
His mock-tragic expression could not conceal the spark of lust in his eye. His excitement at having run his quarry to earth was evident.
Flipp sat back for a moment, letting the fog in her mind clear. The two men she feared the most flanked her, while the one she loved lay lifeless on the floor. What could she do? What could anyone do? There had to be some way out of this.
“What about Rocky? Please don’t hurt him. Please let him go. He’s done nothing against you. He just wants to start a new life. If I come quietly, will you at least just let him disappear? He doesn’t want any trouble, I swear.”
“He might not want it,” Cordwainer said, “but he’s invited it fair and square. You must see that. I can’t let this go. He knows far too much.”
“Please.” Flipp’s voice was wobbling dangerously again, threatening to crack. “I’ll do anything. Anything you ask.”
“You’re coming home with me,” Rhodes said, extending a hand adamantly.
“Home?” spat Flipp. “What kind of home is it, when you have to be locked inside with no access to clothes, just so you don’t escape?”
“Goodness, Rhodes, is that what you did to her?” Cordwainer asked with a note of admiration.
“You were a danger to yourself,” said Rhodes sententiously. “I did it for your own good, to keep you safe.”
“To keep me trapped. Because I’d seen you for what you were. Because I’d told you I wanted to go back to college and take my A-levels and go to university—without you.”
“You’re so much pleasanter to listen to without that awful affected cockney accent,” Cordwainer commented, causing Flipp to aim a furious kick at his shins. “Oh dear.” He turned to loom over her, dark-faced. “That might have been a mistake.”
“Leave it,” Rhodes warned. “She’s mine.”
“Is she? I’m not sure we’ve discussed the matter.”
“There’s nothing to discuss. You’ve got your henchman. I’ve got my wife. Case closed.”
“Now let’s not argue about this, Rhodes. You asked for my help in finding her. I gave it freely. But now I think I’d like to claim my reward.”
“The reward is I don’t drop you in it,” Rhodes said between gritted teeth. “You know what a world of shit I could bring down on your head, Cordwainer. Stop fucking about and let me take Philippa home.”
“What do you think your district commissioner at the Met would have to say about your captive bride?”
“He wouldn’t give a toss. He’s got real problems to deal with.”
“I’m not so sure. Come on, Peter. You wouldn’t begrudge me a little fantasy-fulfilment, would you? I’ve been desperate to put this little piece in bondage since she walked into my arcade. And you’ve handcuffed her so nicely, it’s as if you did it for me. Just a quick whipping and maybe a blow job? No? Don’t you think she deserves it, after all she put you through? It’s not as if I haven’t had her already.”
“You have not,” Flipp cried, outraged.
Cordwainer lunged for her. The boat rolled, Flipp screamed, then there was a gunshot.
“You shouldn’t have done that, Cordwainer.”
Rhodes was standing over him, watching him clutch at the wound in his arm, an expression of surprised dismay widening the victim’s eyes.
“You…bastard…” Cordwainer exclaimed weakly. “Get a fucking ambulance, then. I’m bleeding to death here.”
Rhodes put his face up close to the paling Cordwainer’s. “Get your own fucking ambulance,” he snarled. Then he turned to Flipp and dragged her up by the elbo
w. “Come on, sweet cheeks. Home time. Let’s leave these two cunts to it, eh?”
He shot three holes in the bottom of the boat and laughed as freezing seawater spurted through in fountain jets.
“Rocky.” Flipp sobbed as Rhodes dragged her past Rocky to the boat’s steps. The windy harbour air whistled about her ears as she surfaced onto the deck of the boat.
“Fuck.” Rhodes tried to drag her backwards, but it was too late for that. Along the harbour wall, a row of police marksmen ran to take up their positions while blue lights flashed like distress flares in the car park.
He produced his warrant card and shook it in front of the armed officers. “I’m a copper. Put the weapons down and let me explain.”
“Help me,” screamed Flipp. “Help us. There are people below. They’ll die if you don’t help them.”
“Shut up, Philippa,” Rhodes said, delivering the words with icy calm. “Or I’ll shut you up. Got it? Leave this to me.” He pinched her hard on the hip before walking unhurriedly across the gangplank on to the harbour wall. “Now, you muppets, who’s in charge of this fucking farrago?” he asked the nearest marksman. “I’ll see he gets his arse kicked from here to the IPCC.”
“Who’s on the boat?” asked a senior police officer, hurrying forward. “Are they hurt?”
“No one, just a couple of slags,” said Rhodes.
“Help them, help them,” Flipp implored, whimpering, transfixed by the sight of the boat, sinking slowly down.
While police boarded the boat under the supervision of the senior officer, Rhodes pulled Flipp back into the shadows and pressed his pistol into her cuffed hands, making sure he got plenty of good fingerprints onto the butt.
“What happened here?” The officer in charge wanted to know.
“The suspect here got a bit out of control,” Rhodes said, half winking at his colleague. “It’s okay. I’ve got it covered. She’s wanted up in London for half a dozen similar incidents. That’s why I’m here.”
“It’s a lie,” screamed Flipp. “Don’t believe him. Help me.”
“Sorry, sir,” said the senior officer, stopping to look Rhodes up and down for the first time. “This crime has taken place in my jurisdiction. I think I need to ask you both to come with me for further questioning. You’ve arrested the girl, have you? Read her her rights?”
“Yeah. But I’m not coming with you. I need to get her back to London.”
“He’s kidnapping me,” pleaded the exhausted Flipp, her heart banging as she watched Rocky carried out by two burly officers and laid on a stretcher. “Is he alive?” she shouted to them. “Is he going to be okay?”
“Bit concerned for an attempted murderer, isn’t she?” the senior officer remarked. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t let you take her to London. I must insist you accompany me.”
“I’m a detective chief superintendent in the Met,” Rhodes exploded, losing his temper at last. “Who the hell are you? I’ll have your arse for this.”
“I’ll take your word for it, sir. All the same…”
“Wait till I get you home,” Rhodes muttered into Flipp’s ear, then straightened up into a savage smile when the officer looked around and beckoned them to follow him to the car park, where they were helped into the officer’s car and driven away for questioning.
“What happened?” Jeremy hastened over to where Michelle cowered on the bench, still shaking and crying.
“I shouldn’t be crying. I should be glad he got shot,” she mumbled. “But Rocky didn’t deserve it. Not really.”
“Well, if you live by the sword, you die by the sword.” Jeremy shrugged. “I need an eyewitness account, Michelle. Can you give me a quick one?” He put an arm around her trembling shoulders and relented, the empathetic man in him defeating the journalist just this once. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m pushing you. Let me take you home. We’ll talk at my place, yeah?”
“Yeah, thanks.” She accepted his offer with a wobble in her voice, leaning on his arm and walking back, past the crowds of spectators and police, who ignored them all the way to his car. “Do you think he’s dead?”
“Cordwainer? I don’t know. It’d solve a lot of problems if he was, I suppose.”
“I shouldn’t care, should I?”
Jeremy rubbed her arm. “No,” he said gently. “You shouldn’t. And one day you won’t.”
Laura glowered at her father as he picked up the phone.
“I won’t forget about it, Dad. No use trying to deny it. I know what you’ve been getting up to and I think it stinks.”
Councillor Trewin flapped a guilty hand at her and put the phone to his ear.
“Trewin. Hello, yes.”
Laura continued to brood over the morning’s Gazette as her father took the call. Jeremy had been as good as his word and kept the Trewin name out of the paper. All the same, Laura thought it only right and proper that she let her father know what she thought of his illicit activities. Leverage was leverage, after all.
“Are you serious?”
She looked up. Trewin’s face was grey.
“Is he going to be okay? Which hospital is he in? What about the bitch that sold him out? Does anyone know where she is? I see. Well, of course, I don’t. Thanks for letting me know.”
He put down the phone and stood silent for a moment, watching Laura yet not seeming to see her at all.
“Well, you can rest easy now, love,” he said at last. “Looks like my partner in crime might be on the way out.”
“What do you mean? Cordwainer’s ill?”
“He could be dead. Got shot. By that girl from the arcade.”
“Flipp? Seriously?”
“So I’m told.”
“Was, er…” Laura trailed off, not sure whether to ask the question or not, but she needed to know. “Was Rocky with her?”
“What do you know about Rocky Anderson?” Her father squinted suspiciously.
“Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”
The phone rang again, Laura’s mobile this time, causing them both to jump. She saw that it was Jeremy.
“Yes?”
“Can you come over to my place, Laura? I need you to sit with someone while I pop into work for an hour or so.”
“I’m not a babysitter. Who is it?”
“Michelle Roberts.”
“Oh.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say, “The whistleblower.” but she kept her counsel, mindful of her father’s presence. “Oh, in that case, okay. I’d like to talk to her. I’ll be there in ten minutes, yeah? Bye.”
She turned to her father. “Got to go out. Try not to get embroiled in any gangster business while I’m gone, will you? And don’t, for fuck’s sake, go visiting Cordwainer in hospital. You’ll get photographed.”
“I’m not a bloody fool, Laura.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.” She gave him a glare intended to reduce him to an essence of shame and humiliation before swinging out through the living room door and onward.
“Thanks for this, Lo.” Jeremy grabbed car keys and bag from the hall table, stopping to give Laura a swift peck on the cheek before heading out to the office to file copy and talk to the editor.
Walking into the living room of his flat, Laura discovered a miserable, shivering woman on the couch, sipping at what looked like brandy.
“Hi,” said Laura carelessly, dropping herself down next to Michelle. “Bit early for that, isn’t it?”
“Shocked,” Michelle whispered.
“Oh right. Were you there when Cordwainer was shot, then? You were shagging him, weren’t you? So I heard.”
“I wasn’t…on the boat…was on the quay…heard the shots…”
“Wasn’t you that did it, then? I should think he’s gunning for you, isn’t he? After you told all to Jeremy.”
“No…not me…they say it was the girl…”
“Flipp. Knew she was a wrong ’un.”
“You…know her?”
“Not really. By reputation. Little slut.”
Laura knew she ought to temper her obvious hatred of Flipp but somehow she found she couldn’t.
“Did you know she’s a married woman? No? Well, she is. Married to some big-time cop in London. I spoke to him on the phone the other day—he told me she was a sex addict with a personality disorder. She’s dangerous, apparently.”
“I…met her. She seemed…nice.”
Laura looked daggers at Michelle, then sat back.
“So you saw what happened. Tell me about it. Was Rocky there?”
“I bumped into them at a campsite—Rocky and Flipp. They were hiding out together, trying to get away from Charles. But the police turned up, and some of Charles’s heavies, so we all tried to get away and ran to the harbour at Bridehaven. Rocky and Flipp were planning to take a friend’s boat over to France. I asked them to take me with them, but Rocky wouldn’t…Anyway, I watched them go down on to the boat. I heard screams and then gunfire, and a man I don’t know came out with Flipp. I think he was a policeman—he had one of those badges. Showed it to the local police when they turned up.”
“Oh, that must be her husband,” breathed Laura, fascinated. “So Cordwainer was shot. But what about Rocky? Where was he?”
“He came out on a stretcher.”
Laura drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, no, no, no,” she whispered. She crammed knuckles into her mouth and chewed on them, forgetful of Michelle’s eyes on her.
“Have some of this,” Michelle said, proffering the brandy glass.
“No.” Laura galvanized herself. “Can’t drink. Got to get to the hospital.”
“You aren’t going there.” Michelle was aghast. “I can’t come. I can’t see Cordwainer. I can’t be in the same building.”
“Stay here, then,” Laura said, pushing Michelle back roughly when she laid a hand on her forearm.
“But Jeremy said—”
“Jeremy’ll be back soon. You’ll be okay here. Put the telly on, watch Cash in the Attic or something. I’m going. Nice meeting you, bye.”
“Laura.” The woman’s cry behind her stopped Laura in her tracks, it was so piteously guttural. “I know your father.”
Erotic Amusements Page 20
