Erotic Amusements (21 page)

“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.”

Michelle looked at Laura, her glance shocked at first, then curious.

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.”

Laura whirled round, her face hard. “So what?”

Michelle seemed prepared to say anything now, perhaps needing to keep this little piece of human connection, to avoid being alone.

“Cordwainer gave me to him.”

“What? What the hell are you on about? I don’t care about all this shit. I care about Rocky.”

“I was Cordwainer’s property and he gave me away to your father. That’s why I gave the story to the
Gazette
. I was so angry with him.”

She was crying again, convulsively.

Laura stopped, on the verge of indecision, too embroiled in conflicting emotions to fully feel any of them.

“You mean…you were shagging my dad?”

“Cordwainer used to have parties. I was the entertainment. Your dad was a regular.”

“Jesus, I don’t want to hear this.” But Laura could not move, her fascinated revulsion rooting her to the spot.

“I loved Charles, but he didn’t love me. He gave me away to your father.”

“Like…a present?”

“Yes, like a present. I wasn’t supposed to have feelings. I wanted him to know I did. I have feelings. I have value.”

“You wanted revenge?”

Michelle nodded miserably.

“Well, you’ve got it, haven’t you? And now two men might be dead.”

“I didn’t call that cop, though. That was nothing to do with me.”

Laura’s stomach lurched unpleasantly. The idea that Rocky might be lying in the hospital morgue right now as a direct result of her call to DCS Rhodes was not an appealing one. It reminded her of her immediate mission, and she picked up her handbag.

“Yeah, well, there’s no accounting for my dad’s taste,” she said brutally. “It always was trashy. I’m going now.”

Accident and Emergency was busting at the seams, each cubicle full, with every chair in the waiting area occupied by somebody needing attention. Laura found it easy to slip past the harassed nurses and look at the chart on the wall.

Bay Three had the name Cordwainer crossed out and replaced. Either he was dead or had been removed to Intensive Care or another ward.

Bay Six had “Anderson—head injury” scrawled on the whiteboard.

Laura headed for the bay with the police officer standing outside the curtain. That would be Rocky, all right.

“You a relative?” asked the policeman as she reached to slip beyond the drape.

“Are you?” she snapped. “I’m a friend,” she added, almost as an afterthought. “Girlfriend.”

“Really?” The policeman looked interested, but she ignored him and walked on through.

Rocky was propped up on pillows, his head bandaged, his face locked into a deep scowl.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growled as soon as he registered Laura.

“I might ask you the same question,” she retorted, but her acerbic words hid floods of blessed relief, coursing through her, lighting her up with weak-kneed joy. “Heard you got into a spot of bother. Just wanted to make sure you were…” Her voice tremored. “Okay.”

“I’m fine,” he muttered. “I want to walk out of here, but bloody PC Plod out there won’t let me go until I make a statement. Do you know what happened?”

“You don’t?”

“I remember walking down into a boat, and that’s it. Don’t know what’s happened to Flipp. Don’t know what’s going on.”

“Flipp’s left,” Laura said, making sure she had Rocky’s undivided eye contact before adding, “with her husband.”

Her words did not have the revelatory impact she was hoping for, though there were certainly signs of agitation on Rocky’s face.

“Are you fucking serious? That evil cunt has got his hands on her again?”

“You knew?”

“Of course I fucking knew. We’re lovers, Laura, partners. We talk to each other. What, you thought it was some big secret, did you? Was it you? Was it you that called in and shopped her? It was, wasn’t it?”

Rocky was swinging his legs around out of the bed, heedless of the fact that he was wearing only a hospital robe.

“Rocky. I did it for you.” Laura backed away.

“Don’t move. I’m not going to kill you. Yet. Sit down.”

Laura sat down in the room’s moulded plastic chair.

“What exactly happened, Laura? What did you do? What do you know?”

“I saw a missing persons thing with Flipp’s photo on it. I called them up. It said she was ‘vulnerable.’ I know that means a person who’s mentally ill or whatever. I wanted to save you, Rocky. I thought you might be in danger.”

“I think you know me well enough to know that I can look after myself, Laura. You did it to split us up, didn’t you? Out of spite. You called Rhodes and got him down here.”

“He’s Flipp’s husband,” pleaded Laura. “He has a right to know.”

“He’s an evil bastard who kept her prisoner, played mind games until she didn’t know which way was up and abused her. She was lucky to get away. And now he’s got her back.” Rocky ran hands through his hair, pulling tufts of it free from the bandage. “Where is she? Where are they? Was it him that knocked me out?”

“I don’t know.” Laura shrugged. “Cordwainer was there too. He was shot.”

“Cordwainer? Was shot? Look, we have to get out of here. I have to find Flipp.”

“You’re under police guard and you’re naked under that gown.”

“Yeah, well…” Rocky opened the bedside cabinet, locating his clothes. “The nakedness is easily dealt with. As for that copper—you owe me, Laura. Get rid of him.”

“How?”

“Use your imagination. I don’t care.”

“Why should I do anything for you?”

Rocky reached out, cupped her face, tilted it up towards his, holding it firmly.

“Because you want to,” he said. “Because you have a hell of a lot to make up for. Because underneath all the queen-bitch attitude, I know there’s a worthwhile person.”

“You don’t.” His last words cut her to the quick. She needed to prove herself to him. “Okay,” she said quietly, and he let go of her.

Five minutes later, Laura was haring through the open waiting area with the police officer in hot pursuit, roaring at her to give his hat back.

Meanwhile Rocky, dressed and ready for action despite his sore and bandaged head, took advantage of the chaos and the perennial staff shortages to sneak off out of an alternative exit, reaching for his phone and calling Flipp’s number.

The desk sergeant frowned at the buzzing phone in front of him.

“Yours?” he asked Flipp, who stood miserably cuffed on the other side, beside an eye-rolling Rhodes and the officer in charge of the armed operation.

“Yeah. Can I answer it?”

“Well, you do have the right to one call.” The sergeant shrugged.

“Who is it from?” Flipp asked, grabbing at the air with anxious fingers. “What does the display say?”

The sergeant picked it up. “Rocky.”

Hyperventilating, Flipp jerked her head to indicate that she wanted to take the call.

“Switch it off,” snapped Rhodes.

“She does have the right,” the sergeant reminded him. He put the phone against Flipp’s ear and switched it on.

“You’re alive,” she blurted, her throat jumping with sobs.

“Flipp, where are you?”

“Police station…please come…he’s got me…need you.”

“I’m on my way.”

Rhodes snatched the mobile from the sergeant’s hand and ended the call before pocketing the troublesome item.

“Ahem, is that your property?” the sergeant enquired, with a hint of iron behind the politeness.

“It is now,” Rhodes snarled. “This is my body. I have to take her back to London today. Fill in whatever forms you need to process her and then we’re off.”

“One moment, Chief Superintendent Rhodes,” said the officer in charge. “Name?”