Dewar shook her head. “Not yet, the case has been assigned to another team, and they’re going to interview Mrs Armstrong. See if she knew who Katrina was hanging around with. It could be someone from Jersey or perhaps a bloke from London she met when he was in the island.”
“It’s heart-breaking, but we need to get back to our investigation. I’m sure that the Gillespies are connected to Scott Hamlyn in more ways than they’ve let on so far. Talk me through where we are.”
“Okay. Lena Davies is apparently sticking to her story that she is just a fixer and that Danny Gillespie runs the whole show. He controls the drugs, the sex parties, everything.”
“And therefore the blackmail.”
“And Scott Hamlyn’s dead body was found surrounded by cash, and he’d been paying into a charity about which we can’t obtain any official details. Lena Davies is playing dumb and says she knows nothing as she was just one of several council members who sat at the top level of the foundation. She maintains her appointment was a nominee one and she left the running of the charity to the Panamanian resident members.”
“Yes, the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that Danny is connected to all of this and had a good little earner going there. Apparently, he is at the club every night, so, warrants willing, we’ll pick him up tomorrow.”
Their food arrived, and they started to eat. A mechanical process that was more about fuelling the system than enjoyment. They had no time for that right now.
“What about the charity? Any update on getting financial data?”
“Absolutely nothing. Panama is surrounded by a wall of silence that you can’t get through. The latest before I left was that we’ve gone higher, and there might be a government-to-government approach, but we need more cause for an order.”
“Okay. Let’s finish up and get some rest. We’ll have a long day tomorrow.”
Dewar’s phone was on the table beside her plate. There was a buzz as a message came through.
“Sorry.”
She picked it up and checked the text. Her eyebrows rose, and he could swear her eyes sparkled. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I mean, yes, sure.”
She seemed a little distracted as they left the table and headed to their respective rooms.
#
Ana was shaken and subdued as she followed Ben into the apartment. She’d barely said a word during the taxi ride from the club. He walked straight to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “Go and get comfy in the lounge. I think we need a drink.”
She kicked off her sandals and sank into the corner of the couch. Moments later, he was back with two large glasses of ruby-coloured wine. She took the proffered glass, sipped and her taste buds exploded.
“This is gorgeous.” Her voice hitched a little, and she closed her eyes.
She felt the sofa cushions give as Ben sat down next to her.
“One of the good things about staying at one of Aidan’s places is that he always has it stocked with decent wine. Cheers.”
Before she opened her eyes, her body sensed how close he was. He turned toward her, and she saw the compassion in his eyes. “I’m sorry you had to see your friend like that. You okay?”
She shook her head. “I can’t make sense of it. I mean, I’ve got over the initial shock, and I know it’s up to Irena to do whatever she thinks is right…” She paused. “I guess I just feel so hurt. Why wouldn’t she tell me she was okay? I can’t count the number of messages I’ve left on her phone.”
“Maybe she was embarrassed about what she was doing?”
“I can buy that, sure, but why couldn’t she send a text? Anything, just to let me know she was still alive.” She banged her hand against the armrest and rolled her shoulders to ease the tension that seeped through her body.
Ben moved forward. “Turn round.” He indicated that she face away from him, and, setting down her glass, she did as he bade. Strong hands rested on her shoulders as he gently stroked, his fingers massaging deep into her muscles. “Oh, that’s good, ouch!” The sweet release was a perfect blend of pleasure and pain.
“Sorry, you’re wound up and knotted. You need to relax. Let me help.”
His fingers stroked up her back in a feathery trail, caressing her shoulders and the nape of her neck. She closed her eyes and relaxed into the moment. How could the lightest of touches cause the deepest of sensations? She wasn’t concerned about her tense muscles anymore; her focus was on the heat that was building deep within her.
“Ana, come here.” His voice was gravelled, and when she faced him, she could see the desire burning in his eyes. He leaned closer until there was only a breath of air between them. His mouth covered hers, and she fell into the kiss. He pushed her back against the cushions until she was lying the length of the sofa, his mouth still nipping and teasing at hers. His stubbled chin rasped against her, but it wasn’t unpleasant, and her body acted of its own accord as she arched and pressed closer to him, telling him in actions what she couldn’t in words. His hands caressed as she held him close to her. His breath was heavy, and as he pushed up her top, his fingers stroked bare skin and a jolt of desire exploded within her. His hand travelled south, his fingers settling over the button of her jeans, which he opened with a flick and then pulled on the zipper.
Her eyes opened wide and stared into his, which were hooded and clouded. Reality hit. She laid a hand on his, gently pushed it to the side. “I’m sorry; this is just going too fast.”
He stared at her for a long moment, and she wondered what was going through his head. He nodded, drew a slightly shaky breath and rolled over so he was lying next to her. He drew her zipper back up and her top down and held her close, her head resting on his chest. “I’d apologise, but I’m not sorry. I’ve been thinking about touching you ever since we met. I don’t want to rush what’s between us. Let’s chill for a minute and then go to bed. You’ve had a long day.”
She stiffened and then immediately relaxed at his rumble of laughter. “Separately, of course.” He kissed the top of her head, and she burrowed into his side, hugging a smile deep inside her.
#
Irena awoke with a start and sat up in bed, groggy and disorientated. The covers fell to her waist, and a chill raised the hairs on her arms, but it wasn’t caused by the cool night air. There had been a noise – someone was in the apartment. She threw the duvet aside and crept out of the bed, squinting as she sought a weapon in the dark room. It had rained the day before, and she’d left her umbrella in the en-suite bathroom to dry. She tiptoed across the room, found the long-handled umbrella and wielded it in front of her as she slowly slipped through the open doorway, pausing for a moment to listen.
She knew someone was behind her before she heard the creak of a floorboard. She spun round, raised her weapon and felt like a fool as she realised who was in her apartment. The hunter’s moon cast a wide beam through the lounge window, and the light pooled in the hallway, illuminating his familiar features.
“Oh, thank God it’s you.” She shrugged and gestured to the umbrella as she laid it against the wall. “See, I was prepared to battle intruders.”
She could hear the laughter in his voice, and her heart flipped, as usual. “I’ve a mind to do battle of some sorts with you, but I had something more intimate in mind.”
She reached up, draped her arms around his neck and drew him tight against her. “I’ve missed you. How was the dinner?”
“How these events always are. Boring. Sorry I’m so very late. It couldn’t be helped.”
“I wasn’t expecting you, so I’m just happy that you’re here.”
He shrugged off his jacket, grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the bedroom. “I’ve got something for you.”
She giggled, a high, girlish laugh full of anticipation. “I bet you have!”
“Down, girl. Wait and see what I’ve got.”
He drew her onto the bed and pulled a plastic
packet from his pocket. The pills were delicate white ovals, and her senses thrummed at what they might be. The pills she’d taken earlier were wearing off, and there was a jarring edge to her nerves that wanted soothing.
“Wait here.”
He was back in a moment with two tumblers of clear liquid. She took the glass and the two pills he held out.
“Come on. Get these down you and you’ll be nice and calm. You’ll be a good girl.”
She held the pills in her hand – she wasn’t ready for numbness yet – and simply took a swig of the vodka, grimacing as the fiery liquid burnt a trail down her throat. “I had a bit of an upset tonight. I saw my friend Ana at the club.”
He stiffened, and his glance was sharp. “Did you now? Who was she with?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see. I panicked when I saw her and ran off the stage. Then I got to wondering what reason she would have to be there. She wasn’t expecting to see me. I could tell by her face. Ana couldn’t do what I do. The money is great, and I know you like watching me, but Ana, she’s too naive for all this.”
She chewed the side of her finger, worrying away at a jagged nail. Ana would never cope in this world. Perhaps her being there was just a coincidence. She pushed the thoughts away. She couldn’t do anything about them, for she wasn’t going to call Ana and speak to her.
He ran a finger over her shoulder, pushing down the thin strap of her nightgown; the top loosened and exposed one high breast, which filled his groping hand. “How did it feel? To have her look at you? Were you naked?”
“God, yes, I was. It was awful.”
His hand kneaded her breast. “Irena, we’ve been together a little while now, and it’s time we moved to the next level.”
Her stomach flipped, and she took a deep breath, waiting for his next words. Would he live with her permanently?
“You know I love to see you on the stage, being looked at by other men, even by the women. The power you hold over them turns me on so much, knowing that it’s me you’ll be fucking later.” His crude choice of words left a jarring note, but the talk still excited Irena, and she leaned closer, the pills falling from her palm. He looked at her short cap of hair, and something reminiscent of disappointment crossed his face. Was he bothered that she wasn’t wearing the wig? Surely not, for it was her he wanted, wasn’t it?
He continued in his soothing, seductive whisper, “You know what I’d love? There’s a party next week, a very private affair. It’ll be just me, you and a few like-minded others.”
She frowned. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”
He smirked. “Oh, come on, don’t play coy. Just a few friends indulging their senses, enjoying what – and who – they want. You’ll love it. I want you on your knees, another man behind you, but you’re looking at me, right at me as he does as he pleases.”
“Christ, you’re insane.” She jumped off the bed and stood in front of him. “That is sick. I am not going to be doing anything like that, and I am disgusted that you could even suggest it. You repulse me. Get out.”
His face darkened as he stood and slapped her. She reeled back, stumbling against the wall. “You little bitch. Don’t ever talk back to me – ever. You hear me?”
She held a hand to her throbbing face in disbelief that he had hit her. His face was red and his eyes hard. She didn’t recognise him like this. The devil on her shoulder whispered that she’d rarely been drug-free in her dealings with him over the last weeks, and she’d simply done as he directed. Well, screw him. No one hit her and got away with it.
“That’s it. I’m leaving. I’m going to phone Ana. She’ll help me. You touch me again and I’ll have you done.”
He laughed. Such a simple action, yet it chilled her.
“You’re going nowhere, nor will you be speaking to Ana. You’ll do as you’re told and stop this defiance. You’re my woman, and I own you. Get on the bed.” He unbuttoned his shirt and started to undo his trousers.
She cowered into the corner and glanced at the open bedroom door. If she ran, she could maybe get out onto the street. It must be 3:00 a.m., perhaps later, but London cabs ran beneath her window all night long. Surely, someone would stop for her.
“Don’t even think about it.” He kicked the bedroom door shut and locked it, placing the key on the dresser. He turned back to her, holding the wig in his hands. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do. You’re going to wear this and do exactly as I want.”
He threw the wig at her, and it landed by her feet. Her mind settled on and discarded options till she was left with none. She bent her head and, with fumbling fingers, put the wig on, tugging the long caramel locks until they framed her face.
His smile was a lupine leer. “Come on, Laura, come to me.”
She had no choice. She rose to her feet and crossed to the bed, but all she could think was, Who the hell is Laura?
Chapter Forty
Ana was already showered and dressed as the sun began its golden ascent over the rooftops of London. She’d lain awake for an age last night as she replayed in her mind every look, every word, every touch that had passed between them, marvelling that this man appeared to have real feelings for her. She had hugged the thought to her like a comforter as she drifted off to sleep. A noise had briefly awoken her at some point. It sounded like a door creaking open and then being carefully closed. Sleep had overtaken her in seconds, and she’d next awoken just as the dawn was flirting with the horizon.
There was a small balcony that ran off the galley kitchen with just enough room for a bistro-style table and two chairs, and it was here that Ben found her as he stepped, bleary-eyed, onto the balcony. He eyed the pot of coffee and said in a voice heavy with sleep, “I thought I smelled something delicious.”
Ana poured him a mug of the steaming brew, and he briefly closed his eyes in appreciation as he sipped. “Okay, starting to feel human now. Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, except I did wake in the night. I thought I heard a door closing.”
He looked shamefaced. “Sorry, that was me. I got a call from Aidan at gone 2:00 a.m. He couldn’t wait for the figures I picked up from Danny, and he needed me to get them round to him.”
“At that time?”
“Yeah, he was talking to his lawyer in the States on Skype, and they wanted to redo the sale terms for the contract we’ll be discussing today.” He checked the clock on the wall. “I better get moving. The meeting starts at nine thirty, and Aidan will want us to have a debrief first. Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own?”
“Absolutely. I am going to take a walk through Leicester Square and maybe have some lunch at Covent Garden.”
“Great. I’ll be finished up by mid-afternoon, so I’ll give you a call. We can maybe sit somewhere nice and have a drink before we come back and get ready for dinner. I’ll call you.”
“Sure.” Ben went off to get showered and dressed for business, and Ana helped herself to another cup of coffee. Thoughts of Scott crowded her mind as she gazed out at the Georgian buildings that lined the leafy square, which was a verdant oasis in a sea of concrete and tarmac. She knew her cousin could be withdrawn and difficult with some people, but that wasn’t enough reason to kill a man. She had called her aunt before she flew to London but had to leave a message on the answerphone. Sarah Hamlyn wasn’t picking up, or at least not for Ana.
With Scott gone, her reason for coming to Jersey had disappeared. She had wanted to be part of a family again, searching for connections to fill the gaping hole created by her parents’ deaths. Admittedly there was Ben now; however, he seemed to spend a lot of time in London. Maybe she should become a big-city girl instead of a small-island one? She might even visit some recruitment agencies today. See what London had to offer a girl like her. Irena was here, and perhaps, over time, she would let Ana back into her life. Her mind made up, she finished her coffee and went to enjoy the day ahead.
#
Le Claire
had been at the Met for hours. He’d had an early breakfast and texted Dewar to say he’d meet her at Penny’s offices whenever she was ready. He used a secure remote access to pull up his files in Jersey via HOLMES 2. The IT system was a far-advanced mechanism to collate all data related to a crime, such as witness statements, evidence logs and situation and update reports. He could see that the team, led by Masters, had been chipping away at Lena and Basil Davies. Lena protested her innocence, but it was her name that was on everything. She couldn’t say how they sourced the properties, and was at pains to explain how they never caused even a smidgen of damage and left the places cleaner than they’d found them. She figured the owners never even knew. Le Claire didn’t doubt that. He winced whenever he recalled the stench of ammonia at the Blacks’ place, and his eyes virtually watered at the memory.
A shadow fell across his desk, and he looked up to see a sombre-faced Gareth Lewis.
“Hi, Jack, can you spare me five minutes? Let’s go get a coffee.”
“Sure.” He grabbed his jacket and followed Gareth, who stopped by the industrial-style coffee machine in the corridor. Le Claire’s heart sank. “You wouldn’t know a decent cup of coffee if it introduced itself to you.”
Gareth snorted. “I’m not paying over two pounds for a hot drink made by some trendy barista. It’s 50 pence a pop here and perfectly okay. My treat.”
“Thanks.” What else could he say? As soon as possible, he was heading to the coffee shop at the end of the street. He could wait, he could.
Gareth collected the tiny plastic beakers from the machine and nodded at a door across from them. “Be a good lad and open that up. We can chat in there.”
Le Claire followed his old boss’s orders, and they entered the meeting room. Gareth placed the cups on the wooden table and flicked a row of switches, bathing the room in an electronic glow. Le Claire sniffed. The coffee didn’t smell too bad. He sipped and cringed; it was foul.
Gareth took a long draught and drank half his coffee. He set the cup down, smacking his lips in unmistakable appreciation. “Right, bad news, so I’ll just spit it out.”
Blood Ties: Obsession, secrets, desire and murder (A Jack Le Claire Mystery) Page 27
