London Noir: A gripping crime suspense thriller (Kal Medi Book 2)

by Ann Girdharry

  ‘I can’t do that,’ Sophie said, and her tone sounded flat and final.

  Kal’s heart sank.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine here. Besides, Eliza needs me and it was selfish of me to leave her. That’s what friends are for, right?’

  Eliza stood quietly, so frail and pale skinned, as if she were ready to flit away from her body at any moment. It only confirmed to Kal that Sophie must have been desperate to get away if she’d been prepared to leave Eliza behind.

  ‘Eliza’s mother was a coke head. A millionaire one of course and she won’t mind me telling you this, will you, Eliza? It’s Eliza’s birthday this weekend. She always hates it because Eliza found her mother dead from an overdose on her tenth birthday. Her father’s a famous musician and he’s off gigging on the other side of the world. So, you see, I can’t leave her on her own. I’d never do that.’

  ‘I’m not going to try to persuade you, that wouldn’t be fair.’ Plus, Kal realised she had no chance of succeeding. ‘I need to know if you’re on any medication. Are they giving you anything to take?’

  If they were, Kal could investigate and get specialist advice, maybe find an alternative that wouldn’t squash down Sophie’s impulses.

  ‘They’re only giving me sleeping pills. They help me to get off at night and it means I don’t have nightmares.’

  ‘What kind of nightmares?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Stuff.’

  ‘Can you give me one of the tablets?’ Then she could get it tested.

  ‘If you want, but you don’t need to do this, like I said, I’m fine here.’

  Like hell you are, thought Kal. And Sophie hadn’t even mentioned Purdy as if her cat didn’t exist. My goodness, well-meaning or not, they’d taken something away from Sophie and it made Kal angry.

  ‘That boy over the other side of the room has been watching us ever since we came in. Is he a friend of yours?’ Kal asked.

  ‘That’s Seb. He’s in love with Eliza, and yes, he is, Eliza, don’t try to deny it. He’s harmless. Seb’s always watching us and following Eliza everywhere she goes. He hardly ever says anything. You should see his room, he collects everything – bits of coloured paper, pretty stones, stamps, coins. Seb doesn’t mean anything, he’s just lonely. He doesn’t get many visitors.’

  Kal thought Seb probably heard every word and her eyes strayed to the boy. She figured him to be around fifteen, with a sensitive face and curly hair and an expression that was far too serious. She was glad that Sophie didn’t tell her Seb’s story – she felt sure it would be terrible.

  Kal wanted nothing more than to take Sophie and Eliza bodily with her and march out and leave Melrose behind forever. Only she couldn’t put them at risk like that. Kal realised there was something here they needed and, for once, she had to act responsibly.

  ‘None of this feels right, Sophie, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s to trust my instincts. I’m going to get that pill tested and don’t tell anyone about that and I’m going to come back tomorrow and every day and we’ll talk much more, okay?’

  Sophie smiled. ‘You’re nice, Kal, I thought that when we first met.’

  ‘I wish I could take you away and help you sort out whatever’s bothering you.’

  ‘I’m happy here. You don’t need to worry. Why don’t you come to Eliza’ birthday? There’ll be cake.’

  ‘Of course I will,’ Kal said, and when Sophie gave Kal a hug, Kal held on as if she didn’t want to let go.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  The summons came at a bad time, but then wouldn’t any time have been bad? Kal stared at the line of text from Dante Jones. Dante had been clear with Kal when she first made her request. A favour for a favour. That’s how the Cartel operated. If the Baron helped Kal find Alesha it left her in their debt.

  ‘All right, Dante,’ Kal said to herself. ‘Let’s see what you want from me.’

  As she made her way to Soho, Kal didn’t feel nervous. Her father, David Khan, had trained her well – taking the fear of danger out of her a long time ago. The bigger problem being he’d replaced it with the thrill of living on the edge. Kal recognised the feeling inside her – anticipation and excitement. The lure of being close to the edge.

  Chinatown gave her its usual vibrant welcome. The narrow streets were full of tourists and crowds of local people. The locals were going about their daily tasks and socialising on the streets. Scents from Chinese restaurants filled the air. She passed rows of eating house windows with lines of ducks roasting on the spit. Men and women haggled and talked loudly in English and in Mandarin. As Kal turned the corner, she spotted a group of old men playing dice at a restaurant table and she smiled. She loved the vibe in this part of town, and in Soho too, with its burlesque clubs and risqué venues.

  A couple of streets down and Kal entered Soho. Dante Jones kept his centre of operations in a burlesque club. As on her first visit all those months ago, the same smoothly dressed Peruvian security man stood outside. As before, Sandy met Kal at the bar and took her to the back room, knocking on Dante’s door and then opening it for Kal to enter, and Kal walked into Dante’s office, recognising the Miro print hanging behind Dante’s extravagant desk.

  ‘How good of you to come so promptly,’ Dante said.

  ‘Hello, Dante.’ I didn’t have much choice, did I?

  Dante came from behind his desk and bowed at the waist. He was tall and massive-shouldered and the bow was such a formal gesture that with most men it would’ve appeared ridiculous, and yet, with Dante, the effect was elegant. Kal recalled how he’d spoken warmly to her about a chance meeting with her father. As if Dante and her father been a couple of normal people chatting in a bar, rather than two of the worst types of men she could imagine.

  Dante was near the top of the pecking order. In the drugs world he moved in, the only person Dante would rely on was himself, though he’d hinted at the strength of the alliance between the Baron at the head of the drugs Cartel, and his “favourites” of which, apparently, David Khan had been one. Dante must have the confidence of the Baron too, to have been given the London operation to handle. That must say a lot for Dante’s capacities for violence and strategy and, for those reasons, Kal knew he merited her vigilance.

  Dante led Kal past a full-sized pool table and Kal sank into an enormous leather chair.

  ‘First, let me offer our condolences. The Baron wanted you to know the deed was already done – no intervention on our part could have changed events.’

  Kal nodded. She didn’t want to speak, not because of emotion, but because it was an unwise tactic when confronting an organisation as powerful as the Cartel. Better to play it as close and tight as possible and only respond to Dante’s initiatives. Kal waited, cool and calm, listening to the sound of her own steady heartbeat.

  ‘May I offer you a drink?’ Dante asked.

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘I see you’re ready to get down to business. I admire that – you really are very much like your father.’

  Kal kept her breathing steady. She was nothing like her father but no need for Dante to realise that. It was to her advantage that he knew only the superficial similarities – her training, her nerve, her skills.

  The ice cubes tinkled in Dante’s glass as he took a sip. ‘The Baron has become quite interested in your talents. It’s unusual for a young woman to be trained to such a high level and add to that you’re based in London and you’re a British citizen – you would be an asset to any operation.’

  ‘I’m a freelancer and I like it that way.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure you do, though one day you might realise the importance of protection and allegiance and the rewards for loyalty. Meanwhile, of course, there’s the question of a small debt to be repaid.’

  Kal knew the Cartel’s operation was huge. They organised the production of opium in a swathe of communes in Afghanistan, the manufacture of heroin in ramshackle laboratories hidden in the foothills of Pakistan, and th
en its global distribution to a massive system of middlemen and then dealers in Europe and America. Thanks to vast and hidden networks of organised crime, the Baron made billions a year.

  ‘I hope your proposition is going to be interesting.’ Kal injected a slight note of boredom into her voice.

  Dante’s eyes glinted and Kal thought how a man such as Dante had the temperament to strike with no mercy. Likely he kept a gun on his person at all times and used it on those who displeased him, or who’d been dragged back to him for crossing the Cartel. She wondered how many times he’d fired it in this office.

  ‘What I mean is, I’m grateful for having Mum’s body returned to me and I’m looking forward to finding out how I can thank the Baron for his help.’

  ‘No need to fawn with me, Kal, though some of our operatives like that type of behaviour. For instance the Baron’s son, Raphael. He’s one who enjoys people pandering to his ego. In my experience, those who need that sort of reinforcement are hot and volatile and it makes them dangerous to work with.’

  Though he’d wrapped up his comments, Kal’s skin prickled. Dante was telling her private information about the Baron’s family. Now why would he do that?

  Kal knew the Baron had two sons. The older one had been killed, and it was Kal’s father who had been sent to investigate and avenge that death. Raphael was the younger son.

  ‘Your assignment will be with Raphael,’ Dante said. ‘I handle all the London drug business and Raphael handles the Cartel’s other activities. He’ll brief you himself when you meet him. Whatever Raphael tells you to do, you do it, and when the assignment is finished you’ll be free of your obligation to us.’

  So, it was as quick and as simple as that. The Cartel wanted you to do something and you did it, no questions, no hesitation, no negotiation. The palms of Kal’s hands felt suddenly sweaty.

  ‘I don’t have any choice?’

  ‘You always have a choice, Kal, though if you refuse the project…’ Dante spread his arms wide and shrugged.

  What does that mean, thought Kal. If she refused the project they’d kill her? Or threaten someone she cared about until she complied?

  ‘As I told you when we first met, never request a favour from the Baron unless you’re willing to pay the price.’

  ‘Can you give me more information? So I know what I’ll be taking on?’

  Dante sighed. ‘Asking too many questions is never a good idea in our line of business, Kal.’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of peppermints.

  ‘Still trying to give up smoking?’ she said.

  ‘I think of it as work in progress,’ he said.

  Dante stared straight at Kal and she met his gaze.

  What he saw in her eyes, she couldn’t say, but whatever it was, it made him decide to speak.

  ‘It’s for Raphael to brief you on the job, not me,’ he said, taking a couple of sweets. ‘What I can tell you, is that Raphael was never his father’s favourite. After his older brother’s death, Raphael didn’t let up on his father and used the Baron’s grief to leverage a way into the business. Against his better judgement, the Baron allocated some of his older son’s responsibilities, that’s to say a large chunk of the Cartel’s activities, to Raphael, though he would never agree to the boy taking on the drug operations. That’s still a sore point with Raphael.’

  The smell of mints wafted towards her.

  Dante continued. ‘The biggest challenge for you will be managing Raphael’s temperament. I suspect the job will be relatively simple for someone with your expertise, though never forget that, despite his inadequacies, Raphael is still the Baron’s son. And his only son.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘You’ll meet Raphael and his minder Clarence, very soon. He’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Minder?’

  ‘In this line of business, it’s always a good idea to have someone watching your back. Especially when you’re an annoying little prick like Raphael.’

  Dante stared at her again and downed the contents of his glass. He stood to escort Kal to the door. She didn’t push for more. She’d been lucky to get as much as she had. In fact, Dante had taken her by surprise with his revelations, meaning perhaps she really did remind Dante of her father. Maybe Dante’s dislike of Raphael had played its part too.

  At the door, Dante rested his hand lightly on Kal’s shoulder. It only landed there for a moment and was quickly gone as he leant to turn the door handle. It was a strange gesture for this man, a hardened professional, who controlled his own reactions and impulses. Kal’s skin tingled. The touch had been almost protective, and Dante would be one of the last people she’d expect to be expressing that feeling. It left her puzzled and, strangely, slightly afraid.

  Back on the street, Kal rubbed her arms to calm the goosebumps. Her adrenalin level dropped. The noise and hectic energy around her faded into the background as she ran through the entire encounter in her mind. It seemed strange that her assignment wouldn’t be handled by Dante. Why leapfrog to the Baron’s son? Surely Raphael would be higher up the hierarchy than Dante because of his blood-ties? And why had Dante given her those warnings?

  Well, working with Raphael would give her the opportunity to find out more about how the Cartel operated. Not that it really interested her, though she had to admit the assignment held some attraction. It made her blood hotter – the excitement, the challenge, didn’t she always like playing with fire? It would be a perfect antidote to the dull life she’d been leading these last few months. She couldn’t deny that part of her was curious to experience the world her father had inhabited. It was part of her, and now she knew she could control that part she had no fear of it. Did she find her father’s world enticing? Perhaps. In the heat of the chase after her mother, Kal had felt more alive than she’d ever felt.

  Kal walked briskly, enjoying the Chinatown vibe. She had no regrets about the need to repay the Baron. On the contrary, this was going to be interesting.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  As Kal checked the post box in the downstairs hallway, Mrs Robinson came hurrying out of number four. Mrs Robinson’s stricken face told the story. Kal stuffed the letters into her pocket and her heart rate picked up.

  ‘Oh, thank goodness you’re back, my dear. I didn’t know whether to call the police or what to do for the best.’

  Kal placed a reassuring hand on Mrs Robinson’s arm. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘That young girl you were asking about, Sophie, she came here. I saw her outside on the path and so I went out, well, you said she was missing and I thought perhaps I could invite her in for a cup of tea. I knew something was terribly wrong as soon as I saw her. She was in a dreadful state. I could hardly make out what she was saying. I think she came looking for you but I couldn’t calm her down. I’m so sorry dear, she refused to come inside.’

  ‘Do you know where she went?’

  ‘She started crying and ran off. Darn my arthritis. If only my grandson had been here I’d have sent him after her.’

  ‘How long ago, Mrs Robinson, and did you see which way she went?’

  ‘Oh I’ve been waiting and waiting for you to come back, Kal, but it wasn’t that long ago, maybe almost an hour and she went down the path to the left, you know, towards the college?’

  An hour. Sophie could get a long way in an hour.

  Kal sprinted to the entrance, calling over her shoulder. ‘Thank you so much, Mrs Robinson. I’ve got to find her.’

  ‘Good luck my dear.’

  Kal ran towards the shortcut that led through to the nearby college. It was a path trekked twice a day by local students. Which meant pretty soon it would be full of teenagers spilling out of the college and chatting loudly and playing on their mobile phones. Sophie wouldn’t know how much this path was used but wouldn’t she avoid going towards the college, realising it would be busy at this time of day, perhaps with plenty of students hanging around the grounds? The college buildings were so obvious. Kal hesitated. Instea
d of carrying on, she swung off and headed around the back of the apartment building. The bin area lay on the far side and she wanted to do a quick check. Surely Sophie would seek a refuge – somewhere to hide away from the crowds – somewhere dark and small. Mrs Robinson said Sophie had come looking for Kal and Kal hoped it meant Sophie would try to stay as close as possible.

  A row of large rectangular bins stood in a brick siding, sheltered by a low, sheet-metal roof. The area stank. Even with spillage kept to a minimum, with so many apartments it was inevitable there’d be a gradual accumulation of gunge. The bins were on wheels, and, as she’d done when she first searched this area, Kal examined the ground before she tried moving any of them. This time, she spotted a footprint in the mud. It was a small shoe size and of the right foot of a sneaker. The type of sneaker Sophie wore. Kal made herself stop and she took a slow breath in and out.

  ‘Soph are you there? It’s me, Kal.’

  Silence.

  ‘Are you there, Sophie? Everything’s okay, please come out.’

  The bins were on wheels. Kal heard noises and then a scrape and the bin on the right-hand side jerked a little. From behind, Sophie crawled out on her hands and knees, her jeans and jacket filthy, her eyes desperate. Kal dropped down and put her arms around the girl, pulling her close. Sophie was freezing cold and her muscles were rigid.

  ‘Eliza,’ Sophie whispered.

  Kal’s heart missed a beat.

  Sophie’s mouth moved again. ‘Eliza’s dead.’

  Chapter Twenty-five

  It took a lot to shake Kal. The death of such a delicate girl as Eliza felt like one of the great injustices of the world. Eliza had deserved a good life. She deserved a long life, leaving behind the troubles of her family. What had stopped her? Kal sat with Sophie while Sophie curled in a ball, rocking and moaning. Kal felt Sophie’s suffering inside herself.