Erotic Amusements (20 page)

“Flipp, you told me what happened. I believe you. I know you’re sane, love.”

“He can make people believe anything. He made
me
believe I was bad and dangerous. Rocky, I’m so scared.”

“We’ll be in France tonight, sweetheart. It won’t matter what he can do. And one day we’ll be able to set the record straight. We’ll be able to clear your name.”

“He made everyone believe I was a madwoman. Just because I didn’t want him anymore.”

“He’s a bastard, Flipp. There’s a lot of them about. And you weren’t his girlfriend anyway. You were his victim. He took advantage of a sixteen-year-old girl. He should be charged with rape, in my book.”

“He’s the bloody chief of police. There’s no chance of that.”

“No, I suppose not. All we can do is run. And that’s what we’re doing now. Come on, Flipp, keep up.”

Michelle, in the meantime, unsettled by her breakfast with the pair of fellow fugitives, found herself taking the quietest route, with the most potential hiding places, back to her caravan, where she intended to hole up for the rest of the day. The only other thing on her agenda was an urgent call to Jeremy. Until Cordwainer was arrested and the other guilty councillors rounded up, she was a moving target. It was not a role she relished.

She stopped dead at the start of the track that led her alongside the camping field. Two burly men stood examining a motorbike that she recognised immediately as Rocky’s. A third emerged from the tent, holding aloft some clothes.

“They’re together. Definitely. You stay here and wait for them. I’ll go and scout round the site. Cordwainer wants them, like, yesterday. All right, lads?”

Michelle scurried backwards. The tough had made no mention of her. Jeremy’s sister had obviously kept her lip faithfully zipped. One day, when all this was over, she was going to send her a bunch of flowers. In the meantime, the wisest course of action seemed to be lying low.

She was almost out of the goon’s line of sight, flitting into the caravan field, when she ran slap-bang into the pair of uniformed officers who were on the lookout for Flipp.

“Oh, sorry,” she muttered.

“Careful,” cautioned the female officer, putting out a hand to steady her.

“Can I just ask you if you’ve seen this woman?” asked her male colleague, producing an old photograph of Flipp, looking much younger and less punky than the girl she had breakfasted with.

“Sorry, no,” Michelle said, looking back over her shoulder, fearing recognition by Cordwainer’s hireling, whom she had frequently served over the bar at the Fairhaven. “Excuse me, got to go.”

“Hang on, what about this man? We think they might be together.”

The policeman thrust a photograph of Rocky into Michelle’s face.

“Really, no,” she blustered, waving the picture away.

Cordwainer’s goon was behind her now; she could hear the clump of his heavy boots on the dirt track.

“Officers,” he said with sardonic courtesy, then he stopped and Michelle’s scalp crawled with dread. He was looking at her, trying to place her face.

“Will that be all, officers?” she muttered, taking to her heels.

“Here, you’re the barmaid from the Fairhaven.” he exclaimed. “Michelle. You’re…Hey. Someone I know is looking for you.”

But Michelle was running now, grateful for the tennis shoes she had put on that morning instead of her usual heels, dodging around and among the caravans with the indignant yells of the heavy behind her.

Somehow she made a break around the back of the pool area and towards the beach, intending to take the quickest route along the shingle to the harbour of the nearby town. Once there, she planned to lurk in one of the many cafés and call Jeremy.

Ahead of her the comically contrasting figures of Rocky and Flipp could be seen pounding the pebbles, hair whipped by the coastal winds.

“Rocky,” she shouted over the blustering gusts. “Rocky. Wait for me.”

But he could not hear her, and it wasn’t until they were in the shelter of the cliffs, on the path to the harbour, that she managed to catch up with them.

“Rocky,” she panted, ignoring the look of fearful annoyance on his face. “Please. Take me with you. Wherever you’re going.”

“Are you mad?” he asked, dragging Flipp roughly along and away from the unwelcome hanger-on. “I’ve got enough to worry about without taking on your troubles. I have to look after number one, and right now, that’s me and Flipp.”

“Please. Cordwainer’s men were there. At your tent. They knew you were staying at the caravan park.”

Rocky stopped and stared. Flipp whimpered.

“Are you sure about that? Cordwainer’s men? Which ones?”

“Oh, I don’t know his name…is it…Darren something?”

“Shit. Darren Redmond. He’s at the campsite?”

“He was following me. I think I managed to lose him.”

“Fucking
hell
. We’ve got to move fast. Come on.”

Michelle hurried after him, refusing to let him abandon her.

“Rocky, he’ll kill me. He’ll have me killed. Do you want that on your conscience?”

“Never mind my conscience. That’s my affair.”

They were at the harbour now, heading for the fishing boats unloading after an early morning’s catch.

Michelle gave up for the moment, sitting down on a bench and punching in Jeremy’s number on her phone. She watched the pair of lovers descend some stone steps to a jetty. It was a windy day and the harbour waters were rough, causing the prows of the boats to swing to and fro like pendulums while the buoys clanked and tocked.

I wish I had a lover like him, who would help and support me
, she thought wistfully, jealous of the way Rocky seemed happy to risk his entire life for Flipp. How deluded she had been to imagine Cordwainer had any feelings for her. The love between Rocky and Flipp poured out of them in everything they said and did. How had they achieved that? How did it happen?

She sighed and listened to the burr of the ringing phone, waiting for Jeremy to pick up and make everything all right again.

The ringing switched to voice mail and she sighed again. He must be in a meeting, perhaps. She began to leave a message, trying to sound calm and only partially succeeding. As she spoke, she watched Rocky and Flipp board a fishing vessel and head downstairs into the hold.

“Jeremy, it’s Michelle. Please ring me as soon as you get this message—it’s very urgent. I’ve been discovered by Cordwainer’s men. I’ve got away for now but…” Her voice trailed off. She heard a sharp scream, Flipp’s, and the sound of raised male voices.

Then the screaming stopped, and there was silence.

The smell of the police-issue gauntlet covering Flipp’s mouth was so familiar and so terrifying that she could not breathe it in without retching. Her stomach leaped and jolted while her captor’s other hand closed so tightly about her upper arm that it was numbed within a minute.

“I’ve missed you, Philippa.” The voice in her ear was too much for her, and she vomited, suddenly and copiously, so that he had to take his hand off her mouth with a shout of shocked anger. “Ugh, clean yourself up,” he snarled, pushing her towards the bucket of water that stood in a corner of the hold. She fell on her knees and buried her face in the wet cloth, letting tears merge with the icy damp.

“Rocky,” she jerked out, looking over to the corner where he lay unconscious, a bleeding wound on the side of his head, seeping out and matting his messy black hair. All the same he looked peaceful, the sleeping boy she liked to just watch during the long nights under canvas. Was he still alive? He was so pale. She tried to crawl over to him, but her path was blocked by Charles Cordwainer, who knelt over her lover’s leatherclad bulk and began tying his wrists in front of him.

“What if you’ve killed him?” She addressed the words to Detective Chief Superintendent Peter Rhodes, who was washing his vomit-stained hands in the bucket behind her.

Rhodes shrugged. “What if I have?” The handle of the gun he’d used to knock Rocky out protruded from his jacket pocket. Flipp, in her haze of misery and fear, tried to formulate a plan, to get the gun, to use it against Rhodes and Cordwainer, but her thoughts refused to order themselves and she found herself once again drawn to the corpselike figure of Rocky. Before she could lash out at Cordwainer, Rhodes had hold of her again, and he pushed her down on a bench and handcuffed her hands behind her back.

“Calm down, love,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “It’s all right. I know what’s best for you, Philippa. That’s all I’m trying to do here—I want to help you.”

“Then let me go. And let Rocky go. That’s the only way you can help me. Oh, killing yourself would be good too.”

Rhodes tutted, his head to one side, and put out a hand to stroke Flipp’s cheek.

“You’re still so young, aren’t you? And you don’t understand what you need. You don’t understand what’s good for you. But I do. I always did. Come home with me, love. Come back home.”

“It was never my home.” Flipp was struggling against her breath to get the words out. “It was my prison. You caught me when I was just a kid with nobody to protect me and then you…preyed on me. You’re a fucking vulture. You’ve no shame, and you should have. You should be in prison.”

“I caught your family’s killers for you. I did all of that for you. I protected you. I did it because I love you.”

Flipp turned her head away and let the sobs take their course, transported far away to that awful time, five years ago, when Rhodes had come into her life.

She had only escaped dying in the fire that had destroyed her home and killed her parents because she had stayed out too late at a gig in town. Returning at two o’clock in the morning, wondering why she hadn’t had the usual series of angry, anxious text messages from her mother, she had found a ring of fire engines surrounding the burning shell. She didn’t remember much after that, until Rhodes had come to visit her on the psychiatric ward, to ask her about her father’s involvement with a local crime gang.

“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 elbow. “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.