Respect (Mandasue Heller) (33 page)

‘Fuckable,’ Perry said, a lusty light in his eyes. ‘But I ain’t paying, ’cos you owe me
big
time after that last skank you dumped on me.’

‘Of course,’ Rob agreed. ‘But we will need to talk before I hand her over.’

‘Too right we will,’ said Perry, his eyes narrowing as he reached for his glass. ‘I’ve been a fucking good customer, but I’m starting to think you’ve got me down as some kind of soft touch. Big mistake that, boys,
very
big mistake. You think I got where I am today by letting people mug me off?’

‘Not at all,’ Rob said evenly. ‘And, believe me, nobody’s trying to mug you off. We appreciate your business – don’t we, Ad?’

‘Absolutely,’ Adam agreed, shifting nervously in his seat. He hadn’t had a chance to speak with Rob in private yet, so he had no clue how his friend intended to deal with the man. But, one way or another, this had to get resolved tonight, because his nerves couldn’t take much more.

‘Why don’t you go and get the man another drink?’ Rob said, giving Adam a pointed look when Perry had drained his glass. ‘And get the lady another while you’re there.’

‘Righto.’ Adam stood up and made his way to the bar.

‘So, what did you want to talk about?’ Perry asked, eyeing the girl’s breasts as they strained against the tight, low neckline of her dress.

Rob straightened his trousers and casually crossed his legs. ‘This has got to stop,’ he said bluntly, keeping his voice low so the people at the nearby tables wouldn’t hear. ‘We run a tight operation, and we’ve had no problem with any of our other clients.’

‘But you’re saying you’ve got a problem with me?’ Perry sneered. ‘What … just ’cos I won’t let you fob me off with substandard goods?’

‘Our goods are top quality,’ Rob replied coolly. ‘A lot of hard work goes into making sure of that. The problem lies in the way you handle them.’

‘Bollocks,’ Perry retorted angrily. ‘There’s nowt wrong with the way I handle them. Least, there
would
n’t be if you didn’t keep sending me duds. I don’t mind paying for quality, but when I’m paying through the nose for diseased tramps who can’t take a bit of action without keeling over, that’s where I draw the line, fella.’

Rob inhaled deeply and bit down hard on the retort that sprang to the tip of his tongue. They had been supplying Perry for a year now, but unlike the owners of the private clubs and massage parlours they also supplied, who were savvy enough to realise that they were never going to make back the money they had shelled out if they allowed the girls to be treated too badly, Perry was a sadistic cunt who got a kick out of torturing them. He also had an unfortunate habit of killing them, and that was where it got messy.

Rob couldn’t care less what he did to the girls when they were alive; it was what he did with their bodies after he’d killed them that worried Rob. If they weren’t disposed of properly, it would only be a matter of time before somebody stumbled across one of the corpses. And if that happened, the police would have no trouble tracing it back to Perry, who would undoubtedly have deposited his DNA in every conceivable hole before he got rid. And if
he
went down, he’d made it clear that he would be taking Rob and Adam down with him.

That was the kind of remorseless bastard they were dealing with, and he’d been holding them ransom with that threat for months. And that was why he had to go. This had been his last chance to see sense, but he clearly wasn’t going to, so it was time to get serious.

Chantelle had been standing in the alley for almost two hours before Rob, the woman, and two men came out of the club. Her legs were aching from having stood still for so long, but she forgot the pain in an instant when the woman stepped beneath the light above the door and she got her first clear look at her. Just like the one she’d seen with Rob and his friends on that first night, this one had long black hair, a stunning face, and a fantastic figure. She was clearly drunk, and fury coursed through Chantelle like a wave of red-hot lava when she looped her arms around Rob’s neck and rested her head on his shoulder.

Hands shaking, Chantelle trained her camera on the pair and gritted her teeth when, laughing, Rob put his arm around the woman’s waist and planted a kiss on her lips. One of the men in the group looked equally as drunk as the woman, and the other man held him up as the group made their way down the road. Chantelle kept her gaze firmly on the phone screen, watching as Rob, his arm around the woman, caressed her backside as she stumbled and giggled her way to the car. When they reached it, he propped her against the back door and walked around to the boot. But as soon as he opened it and leaned his head inside to get something, the drunken man made a lunge for the girl; and when she squealed, Rob ran back around and slammed him up against the wall.

Chantelle was upset as she watched the men tussle. She’d never seen this violent side of Rob before, and the fact that he was doing it in defence of the woman – who the other man had bundled into the back of the car by now – hurt her even more.

Just as Rob punched the man in the gut, dropping him to his knees, the phone screen went black in Chantelle’s hand. Terrified that it signalled an incoming call, she stepped quickly back into the shadows and desperately tried to turn it onto silent, only to find that the battery had died. Relieved, but shaking more than ever, she edged back out in time to see Rob and the man who was still standing shove the fallen one into the back of the car beside the woman, before climbing quickly into the front.

When the headlights came on a second later, Chantelle stayed put and hid until the car had driven past. Then, after waiting a few minutes to make sure that they had gone, she stepped out of the alley and made her way home.

‘He is bleeding,’ the woman whined, pressing herself up against the back door of the car and looking with a mixture of horror and disgust at the man who was slouched beside her. ‘I think he is dying, no?’

‘Shut her up,’ Rob muttered to Adam, his gaze fixed firmly on the road.

Adam reached into his pocket and pulled out a hip flask. ‘Here.’ He twisted around in his seat and handed it to the woman. ‘Have a drink and relax.’ He grinned now, his teeth glinting in the strobe of the street lights as he watched her take a long swig. ‘There you go – soon be back in la-la land.’

The woman drained the flask and rested her cheek against the cold glass of the window. ‘Are you taking me to house?’ she asked when, a few minutes later, her eyelids began to droop.

‘Yeah, that’s right, sweetheart,’ Adam said. ‘Won’t be too long now.’

They drove on in silence for the next few miles, then Adam glanced back to see how the woman was getting on. ‘Flat out,’ he said when he saw that her eyes were closed and her head had lolled forward onto her chest.

‘What about him?’ Rob asked.

Adam reached through the gap between the seats and shook Perry’s leg. When the man’s head rolled to one side and Adam saw his lifeless eyes and his tongue protruding from between his grey lips, he grimaced and quickly withdrew his hand.

‘Gone.’

‘Thank fuck for that.’

‘I didn’t know you were going to knife him,’ Adam said reproachfully. ‘Did you even check if anyone was around?’

‘Of course I did,’ Rob said testily. ‘And what else was I supposed to do? I gave him a chance, but he wasn’t going to budge. He must’ve had guts of fucking steel to still be standing after the amount of shit you put in his drinks, so there was no other way around it.’

‘Yeah, but now we’ll have to get rid of him, and that’s not going to be easy.’

‘Maybe not, but anything’s better than waiting for that axe he’s been holding over our heads to fall.’

‘What about her?’ Adam asked.

‘She’ll have to go,’ Rob said quietly. ‘Shame,’ he added regretfully. ‘But she’s seen too much, so we can’t take any chances.’

25

Chantelle barely slept that night for thinking about Rob’s betrayal. She had watched the short film over and over again after charging her phone, searching for signs that she’d got it wrong: that Rob had only been holding the drunken woman up; that he hadn’t kissed her or fondled her bottom. But he had, and the proof – albeit shadowy, and unsteady, thanks to how badly her hands had been shaking – was right there in her phone.

Her eyes were so badly swollen when she dragged herself out of bed the next morning that Leon was concerned when she woke him.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked, getting up without his usual grumbling and following her into the kitchen.

‘Nothing,’ Chantelle lied, keeping her face turned from him as she poured cereal and milk into a bowl and placed it on the table.

‘Something’s up,’ Leon persisted, sitting down and reaching for his spoon. ‘Have you had a fight with that lad you’ve been seeing? ’Cos if he’s touched you, I’ll—’

‘I haven’t had a fight with anyone. It’s just hay fever.’

‘Since when have you had hay fever?’

‘Since I was a kid.’ Chantelle turned her back to make herself a strong coffee. ‘Don’t worry about it; it never lasts long.’

Leon wasn’t sure if he believed her, but he decided not to push it. His sister wasn’t stupid enough to let a lad push her around, but if he ever found out different, he’d tell Anton. Anton liked her, so he’d soon sort the lad out.

After seeing Leon off to school, Chantelle got dressed and made herself another coffee, then sat on her bed with her phone in her hand, waiting for Rob to call as he’d promised. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, she still desperately wanted to believe that he must have had a good reason to lie to her, and she had decided to give him one last chance to tell her the truth. If he took it, great; if not … Well, she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

Rob rang at 8.45, and Chantelle guessed that he must be on his way to work.

‘Hey,’ she said, forcing herself to sound happy. ‘How are you?’

‘Knackered,’ he said. ‘Meeting ran over, so I’ve only had a couple of hours’ sleep.’

‘Poor thing,’ Chantelle murmured. ‘I hope you took a break?’

‘Nah, we were pretty much stuck in there all night,’ Rob told her. ‘Hope you weren’t too upset with me for cancelling our date?’ he said now.

‘I’ll survive,’ Chantelle replied through gritted teeth. Then, desperate to get off the phone now that she’d had her answer, she picked up one of her shoes and rapped the heel on the side of her wardrobe.

‘That the door?’ Rob asked.

‘Yeah. Best go.’

‘Okay, I’ll call you later. Love you.’

Chantelle clenched her hand so tightly that her nails almost pierced her flesh. ‘Love you, too,’ she muttered, before quickly disconnecting.

‘
Bastard!
’ She hurled the phone down on the bed and buried her face in her hands. How could he lie to her like that? All right, so she had been lying to him as well; but that was totally different. She hadn’t lied about her feelings for him, and she would never, ever have cheated on him. His wife had been right about him all along.

At the thought of his wife, it occurred to Chantelle that Rob had probably been lying about
her
as well. He’d said that he and Yvette were sleeping in separate rooms, and that it was virtual warfare whenever their paths crossed. Yvette was supposed to be the one who was holding up the divorce, but Chantelle was beginning to wonder if the woman even knew anything about it.

As the cold harsh reality of the situation settled over her, Chantelle couldn’t believe how stupid she had been. She’d drifted through the last few months on a cloud of denial, telling herself that she was doing nothing wrong, that it was Yvette’s fault that Rob had looked elsewhere for love. But it wasn’t true. Rob had played her – exactly like he had probably played that woman last night, and God only knew how many others. She was such a fool. She had always thought she was too clever to be taken in by a sweet-talking man, and had vowed that she would
never
go near a married one. But she had proved that she was every bit as stupid and amoral as her mum, and she couldn’t have been more disgusted with herself.

Determined not to let Rob get away with it, Chantelle snatched up her phone and watched the footage again. It was nowhere near as clear as it would have been if she’d filmed it on Bill’s camera, but Rob’s and the woman’s faces were clear in the shots under the light, so there was no way he’d be able to deny it was him. It was Yvette’s business what she chose to do with it, but if she had a scrap of sense she would do what Rob had been using as an excuse for why he couldn’t be with Chantelle, and take him for everything he owned in the divorce courts.

Bill’s office was on the first floor of the shabby block that stood beside the café where Chantelle had first met her. Chantelle had only been there a few times but the elderly doorman, Arnold, never forgot a face, and he smiled when he saw her through the glass door now.

‘Morning, pet,’ he said, limping back to his chair behind the reception desk after letting her in and relocking the door behind her. ‘How’s you?’

‘I’m okay, thanks,’ Chantelle lied. ‘You?’

‘Not too bad.’ He sat down, with a puff. ‘My knees are playing up again, but the doc’s decided I’m not suffering enough for replacement, so I’ll just have to struggle on, eh?’

‘Hope you feel better soon,’ Chantelle said, smiling as she backed towards the stairs. He was a nice old man, but he was likely to start talking about the good old days if she hung around for too long, and she had more pressing things on her mind.

‘Come,’ Bill called when she heard a tap at the door. Her eyebrows rose when Chantelle walked in. ‘Well, that’s a surprise. I thought you were Arnold.’ She sat back in her seat now and looped her hands together over her stomach. ‘What brings you here on this fine day?’

Chantelle bit her lip. All the way here she’d been to-ing and fro-ing; one minute determined to go through with it, the next telling herself not to give up on Rob so easily. Now she was actually here, she was uncertain again.

He lied to your face and said he’d been in the office all night
, a little voice in her head reminded her.
And he’s probably still been sleeping with Yvette, and God knows who else, the whole time he’s been sleeping with you.