Bitter Sweet (2 page)

4

‘
A client asked me to go with him to London for the weekend.’

‘Did he indeed?’ Mike said. ‘That should bring in a tidy little sum.’

‘I know, but he’s a new client.’

‘Ah, I see.’

I wanted Mike’s advice on something and didn’t know whether to ask straight out – he might get too involved. ‘Anyway, I feel happiest, here, in the apartment.’ I looked at my nails, waiting for Mike to say something.

He looked around the apartment. ‘You’ve got a solid
, wooden front door.’

I looked up.

‘I don’t think you’re the type to have some thug on call.’

Ah, good. He’s got that right. ‘
There is always the possibility of some low-life hoodlum knocking on your door demanding money. That’s the good thing about the Merchant Building; it’s in the city centre outside of the areas where such scum operates. The building has three exits, secure underground car parking, twenty-four-hour security surveillance and no doubt the janitor has let you in, now and again?’

‘Yeah, all of that sounds impressive.’

Now for the bit that had been troubling me. ‘They’ve just upgraded the cameras.’

‘Upgraded?’ Mike asked, frowning.

‘That’s what the janitor said.’

‘Have they put in more cameras?’ Mike shook his head. ‘The building is what? Five years old? That doesn’t make sense and it’s unlikely to be equipment failure.’ 

Another quick look at my fingernails – I’d just had new mosaic stickers put on. ‘The janitor just said they’d had a firm in, improving the system.’

‘Nina,’ Mike said, giving me an assessing look. ‘Is this for real?’

I nodded.

‘With you, I’m never really sure whether you’re making things up or not?’

I looked up, surprised. I had been leading him, but I wasn’t fibbing. And I was genuinely concerned.

‘Mike,’ I said, crossing my legs. ‘I’m not kidding.’

‘About what?’

‘What the janitor said about the CCTV system.’

‘Why is it bothering you?’

‘’Cause I don’t believe it.’

Mike stared at me. I could see him thinking it through. At least he was now taking me seriously.

‘Well, the management company must have authorised it.’

‘And if they didn’t?

‘Whatever way you look at it; someone authorised the work.’ He stopped, and frowned, looking at me. ‘And
I noticed today that the intercom isn’t working.’

Mike continued to stare at me. ‘Nina, spit it out. What’s going on?’

I glanced at my fingernails. My one foot was going up and down like a yoyo.

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘There are some new girls about, undercutting the usual rates. One or two newbies – there’s always someone new coming into the game, and one way to muscle-in is on price. Right now there are at least six of them – all undercutting. And from what I can make out they’re all from the former East Bloc. Not the usual student-types, fleeing the economic hardship of places like Poland, Hungary and the Baltic areas. These ones are from the southeast, where corruption rules.’

‘I get your drift,’ Mike said, rubbing his chin. ‘This is a big apartment block, how many girls work here?’

‘I don’t know, at a guess five, maybe more.’

‘Any of them from south-eastern Europe?’

‘Not that I know of.’ The whole thing was unsettling, but I didn’t know why. Maybe it was just my own fears – someone muscling-in, trying to organise a racket. That would be very bad for business.

‘Still, it could be the police,’ Mike said. ‘Can’t tell what those buggers are up to – never mind what they’re thinking.’

I uncrossed my legs; my foot had been bobbing up and down the whole time. And Mike was sure to
spot my nervousness and want to help. Help, that’s what I was asking for, but it didn’t sit well asking a client.

‘But,’ I said, ‘if it’s not the police, surely . . .’

‘No, Nina. There is no point in speculating. I know someone who could check if the CCTV is functioning. He might even lend me something so you have a better view of who’s at your door?’

‘Okay,’ I said, surprising myself at having broken the rule of accepting help.  

‘But first let me check something out,’ Mike said. ‘Have you got a phone book?’

‘Sure, why?’

‘Time to phone the management company. Let’s see what they have to say, they must know if someone has been working on the CCTV system.’

I got up from the sofa.

‘Do that again,’ Mike said, watching me, a slight smile on his face, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and the look of someone who had just made a discovery.

‘What do you mean?’ I asked.

‘The way you stood up, you seemed to bounce on to your feet.’

‘That’s from circuit training.’

‘And something,’ Mike said, his voice conveying disbelief.

‘Something what?’

‘The balance – that’s not from aerobics.’

I squinted at him with one eye, and stared at him with the other, the eyebrow cocked.

‘It’s the way you stood up, Nina. There’s a bounce to your movements, reminds of, I don’t know, one of those movies – Kill Bill, or something like that. You’re poised, ready to fight.’

‘Well done.’ Pretty damn close – he’s so good at discovering my secrets.

‘Taekwondo,’ I said, turning to fetch the phone from the kitchen table.

‘Here,’ I said, tossing the phone book at Mike. He caught it one handed.

‘Not bad,’ I said. ‘Good reactions – cricket or rugby?’

‘Neither. Lots of racket sports – good eye-to-ball coordination.’

Mike rapidly found the number of the management company, and pulled out his phone pressing a few buttons.

‘I’ve blocked the caller ID.’

He put a finger to his lips. ‘Here goes.’

‘Good morning,’ Mike said into the phone, ‘my name is Jefferson.’

I put a hand to my mouth – didn’t know he could lie so smoothly.

Mike continued, ‘Can I speak to the manager in charge of the Merchant Building on Cathedral Hill?’

Mike grinned.

In that moment, I saw him as he would have been twenty-years ago – the wide-boy grin of a young man embarking on an adventure.

‘Good morning, Mr Daniels,’ Mike said. ‘My name is Thomas Jefferson.’

I almost let out a giggle, wondering if Daniels would make anything of the name.

Mike gave me a hard look as he continued, ‘From Lincoln and Jefferson Security Systems.’

At that, I really had to clamp down on the fit of giggles threatening to escape.

‘Now,’ Mike said, ‘a valued client of ours lives in the Merchant Building and has told us you’re having some trouble with the surveillance system?’

For a couple of moments Mike held the phone to his ear listening. Then he said, ‘do you mind if I phone the company? As I said my client is highly valued.’

Mike nodded, listening.

‘Could you give me the company’s name again?’

Again he nodded. ‘I’ll do that. Much obliged, Mr Daniels.’

‘Okay,’ Mike said, smiling at me. ‘One down, one to go. Allthorp Security.’

‘Did Daniels say if they’ve been having any problems, or work done on the system?’

‘No,’ Mike said, shaking his head, ‘just the intercom. Now we need Allthorp’s number.’

I grabbed the phone book and gave Mike the number.

For a moment, I watched him as he stared out the window, thinking.

He dialled the number. ‘Good morning, my name is Madison. I wonder if you could help me?  I have an elderly aunt who lives in the Merchant Building.’

There was a pause whilst Mike was transferred. I noticed a slight frown of concentration on his
forehead – probably wasn’t accustomed to using barefaced lies.

‘James Madison,’ Mike said, and nodded, listening.

‘That’s right, an elderly aunt. She’s getting a bit flustered. Asked me to contact yourselves. Point is; she is concerned about all the work being done on the CCTV system.’

Mike clamped his lower lip between his teeth, listening. ‘Is that right?’ he asked. ‘The intercom?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s very kind. I’ll let my aunt know that it’s just the intercom.’

Mike turned to me, a frown on his face.

‘Someone’s telling fibs,’ I said.

‘You don’t say.’

I curled my lip at him. ‘Well, it’s not me.’

‘Did you actually see anybody working on the CCTV?’

‘Yes,’ I said looking into Mike’s eyes. Now was not the time for his disbelief to get the better of him. ‘I did see men working at the cameras
—’

‘Where?’

‘Outside the lifts.’

‘This floor?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you said the janitor had told you
that the CCTV system was being upgraded?’

‘That’s right.’

Mike looked out the window for a moment. ‘The janitor, how long’s he worked here?’

‘I don’t know. Alfred’s been here since I rented the place.’

‘Well, Nina that means either he’s on the take, or the police are up to something? You said they’d been in the apartment block across the road, the one where the Czech girls were?’

I didn’t answer. The implications were going around in my head – the most awful of them I did not want to think about. Well, not right now.

‘Looks like I’ll have to do some more checking,’ Mike said. ‘Alfred, the janitor, is next on the list to check.’

I shifted my weight on the sofa. ‘Mike, what was that all about – the ex-US Presidents?’

Mike laughed. ‘Oh, nothing really. That surfing film, it was on the TV at the weekend.’

‘Point Break?’

‘Yeah.’

5

‘What’s wrong?’ Mike asked, coming through the door.

‘That obvious?’

‘Yeah, your eyes, they look tired and your whole face looks tense.’

‘Got a cold,’ I said, leading Mike into the sitting room. ‘Might be the flu. But I got something from the chemist.’

‘Against the flu? What is it?’

I lifted the packet off the table.

Mike looked at the description and then at me. ‘Says it contains Ibuprofen, but not the dosage.’

‘Chemist said it’s new and works really well.’

‘Probably cost you a lot. Some eucalyptus oil and a pack of paracetamol for 15 pence from Tesco would do just as much good, and be a damned sight cheaper.’

I sat down. I really wasn’t feeling great, and I didn’t know why I’d taken any appointments, anyway.

‘You should go home,’ Mike said. ‘You’re doing yourself no favours.’

‘You’re right.’ I looked at my mobile. ‘It gets worse. I’ve got two clients coming – can’t remember if I told them both to come at one.’

‘How will you get round that?’

I smiled at Mike. Adversity – I felt a surge of energy. ‘You know me, I’ll think of something.’

‘That’s true.’

The doorbell rang. Mike looked at me confused.

‘Probably Ivonne,’ I said, getting up. ‘She works in the next apartment. She’d texted to ask if I would be working today.’

‘Shall I go?’ Mike asked.

‘Too late, stay where you are.’

I opened the front door, glanced at Ivonne, but my attention was taken by the man standing behind her. He looked a good six-feet-three inches, and was wearing a glue-on T shirt which allowed the prominent muscles to ripple with every movement.

‘Hi, Ivonne, come in,’ I said, turning to her and raising an eyebrow.

She winked casually and a cat-like smile slid across her face.

‘I’ve got company, but so have you.’

‘Yeah,’ Ivonne said. ‘This is my cousin Markus, from Gdansk.’

‘Hi, Markus.’ I reached out my hand. ‘No squeezing,’ I said. ‘A pleasure, come in.’

As Markus walked down the corridor, the legs slightly bowed by the mass of muscle, I looked at his back. His trapezius muscles were so huge that it seemed as if the shoulders had risen to join his neck, and the lats muscles on his back gave the impression of a pair of wings tucked in between his arms and his torso.

In the sitting room Mike rose from the sofa, waiting to be introduced.

‘Mike,’ I said, ‘this is Ivonne.’ He put out his hand, but Ivonne embraced him, pushing her breasts into his chest and planted a big kiss on both of his cheeks. Mike flashed his eyes in appreciation.

‘You must be Nina’s friend?’ Ivonne purred, her English overlaid with a distinct eastern-European accent.

For a moment I was caught out. Ivonne gave me a quizzical look, but before she could say anything I introduced Markus.

Ivonne realising that Mike was a client, after all, took the opportunity to show off. A couple of inches taller than me at almost six feet, Ivonne had a similar slim, toned body. I was a brunette, she was a blond and we both had blue eyes. Today she was wearing leg-hugging jeans with a pair of boots which came to just over her knees. The boots were suddenly in need of adjustment, giving her the opportunity to bend down – of course with her ass pointing in Mike’s direction.

‘Right, Ivonne, what’s the reason for the visit?’ I asked, and remained standing and on purpose did not offer her a seat.

Ivonne glanced at Markus, first at the rippling muscles of his torso and then the arms. I wondered if that was her sexual trigger as she seemed to behaving as if she were on a high. And no doubt Ivonne was breaking the rules, crossing the divide between business and private life; it was a safe bet that Markus
wasn’t her cousin. Her glance then took in his face. She drew a breath and turned to me, her expression revealing confidence.

‘Martha’s getting out.’

‘Quitting?’

Ivonne’s long fingers raked through her hair which came to just below her shoulders. ‘That’s what she said.’

‘Did she say why?’

‘Sort off. Had to press her for an answer. Told me she has a bad feeling, told me to be careful.’

  Martha was almost a legend within the trade, having worked since she was a teenager. She acted as a mother-figure for a lot of the girls, her depth of knowledge and her wisdom was unparalleled. The news came with a feeling of abandonment – she couldn’t have chosen a worse time to quit.  

Markus shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

I avoided looking at Markus; Ivonne could do her own explaining. She tended to act the bimbo, but her eyes were firmly set on the customers’ wallets, and she didn’t waste her earnings on expensive trinkets with designer labels. She had a plan for getting out; the escorting was a means to an end, one in which she was planning to go back to her own country.

‘Comes as a shock, Martha quitting,’ I said. ‘Not the best timing – at least not for us.’

Ivonne glanced at her bright-red fingernails before looking at Markus. ‘Markus has done bit of minding,’ she said.

Mike cringed.

Ivonne reached across and ran her fingers along Markus’s hairless forearm. The gesture was sensuous.

‘Good to know,’ I said, addressing Markus.

He again shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘If you want me to keep an eye open for you, just let me know.’ His voice was deep with an intriguing mixture of the local dialect and of his own from Eastern Europe.

‘Sure, let me think about it, okay?’

I led them to the front door, and returned to see Mike with a worried look on his face.

‘I don’t like it that Martha is quitting,’ I said, dropping on to the leather sofa opposite him.

‘Nina,’ Mike said, leaning forward. ‘I don’t know the significance of Martha, but having Markus about is not a good idea.’

‘Why’s that?’ I asked, a little surprised by the conviction in Mike’s voice.

‘He’s the type who’ll attract trouble. It’s a bit like an alpha-male dog – some dogs will steer clear, others will bristle and want to fight.’

‘See what you mean. Some guys will think they have to square-off. Play the male macho.’

‘Exactly. And it won’t solve the problem if some gang or hoodlum is trying to muscle-in on the sex trade in the city.’

‘So you don’t think Markus will keep that type away?’

‘No, not if they’re determined.’

‘Any answers?’

‘Yes,’ Mike said, leaning back against the sofa. ‘But first I’ll need to do a bit of research – talk to a friend of mine. In fact, Markus might just be the key.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If some gang—’

‘We don’t know that yet.’

‘Whatever. Things are stacking up – two sets of girls from south-eastern Europe, funny goings-on with the CCTV cameras, rumours. Shall I go on?’

‘No, you’re right.’

‘You should go and talk to this Martha. Find out what she knows, why she’s quitting.’

I sat upright. Mike’s certainty had cut through the woolly feeling created by the flu, a feeling which had been coming and going all morning.

‘The point is,’ Mike said. ‘If someone is watching this building, be it via the CCTV, or whatever, the sight of Markus strolling about is going to make them come looking.’