I Was Dora Suarez (17 page)

Oh, Dora wrote, Dora said, Dora was!

Oh, Dora, Dora, Dora!

I picked the phone up and dialled. When a girl’s voice answered and said Records, I said: ‘Cheryl, is that still you?’

‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘Anyway it’s nobody else, and don’t I know your voice?’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘anyway you used to. You, me and Brenda used to have a few beers over at the Dog and Duck.’

She said: ‘Christ, it’s not possible. I’m even hearing that you’re on Carstairs/Suarez.’

‘That’s just it,’ I said. ‘That’s why it’s tight, there’s a rush on. Is Barry there?’

‘You’re dead in luck – he was just leaving, I’ll put him on.’

I said: ‘Barry?’

He said: ‘Ah, this terrific, A14 strikes again.’

I said: ‘Barry, it isn’t terrific, it’s Carstairs/Suarez – that’s all they’ve called me back for. I’m not young, but this is something that makes me feel old, Barry, old. Listen, they bring you down any prints from Empire Gate?’

‘Prints?’ he said. ‘Shoe prints, and he’ll have burned them by now.’

‘Barry,’ I said, ‘I’ve got to have something. Anything on this operator. I’m on this with Stevenson partly, because we reckon that my two and Roatta are connected.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘The Parallel Club. Stevenson’s got a photo of Suarez singing there the night of Roatta’s birthday.’

Barry said: ‘Have you got any description of a suspect at all?’

‘A short, dark-haired man running out through an exit door as the flash came on, back turned to it.’

‘Useful.’

‘Useful like fuck all,’ I said. ‘You’ve got Suarez’s face down where you are?’

‘What’s the good of that, though?’ he said. ‘There’s nothing known, I can’t match it.’

‘I realise that,’ I said. ‘But what I also want you to realise is that the murder of these two women is one of the most shocking things we’ve had even on this manor for a very long time, I’m just marking your card.’

‘Give me anything you find,’ he said. ‘Give me something I can bite on, then we can get going.’

‘Yes, OK,’ I said, ‘’night, Barry.’

‘’Night.’

I said to Stevenson: ‘Right, now we’ve got those two sweethearts barred up, let’s get back to the Parallel and take it apart.’

He said: ‘You should have taken the uniformed man off the door.’

I said: ‘I did. Why? Do you feel there might be folk there?’

‘Why not?’ said Stevenson. ‘We’re them. We’re worried. The pot’s boiled over.’

‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘That’s what I think, too.’ We took the keys and went into the club, which was lit – just the bar. Inside we found a man in a black suit; he was a size too large for his underwear, which constricted him and made him gasp from time to time.

‘’Evening,’ said the fat man.

‘Cut the acid,’ I said, because he was in the photograph. ‘Been to any good birthday parties since Felix Roatta’s?’

He said: ‘I make them when I can.’

‘I don’t think we know each other,’ I said.

‘No, it’s funny, that,’ said the fat man, ‘Oughtn’t I to know you, the way you’re making yourselves at home in this place?’

‘I don’t know yet, do I?’ I said. ‘But I should say that if I were in your place, probably not.’ Without turning away from us, the fat man called out: ‘Giorgio!’

A thin man with the squat white face of a killer appeared. ‘Yes, Mr Scalo?’

Scalo said: ‘Take these two people apart, will you? Ask them how they came by their set of keys to in here.’

‘Now don’t let’s go acting hasty,’ Stevenson said. ‘Let me just put you an easy question. Where are you in from?’

‘I’m in from Rome,’ said Scalo. ‘I’m in from there pretty often.’

‘We’re round here quite often ourselves,’ Stevenson said.

‘What wind blows you in, then?’

‘The sail’s called a search warrant,’ said Stevenson. ‘We don’t
come from as far off as you do, just from over the road at the Factory, and when we come in, it’s for business.’ He produced the warrant, reached over and trailed the edge of it gently across the tip of Scalo’s nose.

‘OK, OK,’ said Scalo. ‘Giorgio, forget the games for now – instead, make like a bottle tinkle with some ice, why don’t you?’

I said to Giorgio: ‘Forget the bottle. Take that gun out of your right-side coat pocket and put it on the bar there now. Do it now.’

The man said: ‘You threatening me?’

I said: ‘Yes.’ Stevenson kicked him one in the knees, one in the fun-bag. The man fell, knelt and crouched as though in a state of prayer, holding himself together with his hands to his crotch. I kicked him in the back of the head, got the gun out and threw it to Stevenson. I said to him: ‘Let’s put that somewhere safe.’ The man was crying. I went over him but found no more than a wallet full of credit cards. ‘Bent credit cards,’ I said to Stevenson.

‘They’re not bent,’ said Scalo.

‘If I say they’re bent, they’re bent,’ I said. ‘That’s how it works here in the West End. You ought to drop in from Rome more often and take some lessons, flower.’

‘Look, for Christ’s sake,’ said Scalo, ‘what the Christ’s going on here?’

‘That’s what we’re going to find out,’ I said, ‘that’s what the paperwork’s for.’

‘I just got off the plane at Heathrow,’ said Scalo.

‘We all make mistakes,’ said Stevenson. ‘You should most likely have stayed on it – anyway you’re going to wish you had, my crystal ball tells me that.’

I said to Scalo: ‘You fit in where in this place?’

‘No secret,’ he said. ‘I finance it.’

‘A sleeping cherub,’ said Stevenson, ‘is that it?’

Scalo said: ‘I drop in to see how business is doing and look at the shit I get.’

‘Two things,’ said Stevenson, ‘if I have to mark your card. Drop the armed-guard habit in London next time, darling; it just gives
us another holding charge. Two, don’t count on being back for mass by tomorrow night.’

I said: ‘Now you’re going to ask us what we’re doing here.’ I added: ‘And you can. It’s all legal.’

Stevenson said: ‘You’d two partners, both of them into a scam.’

‘One of them,’ I said, ‘Felix Roatta, sprayed a wall thorough with the top of his head, thus inventing a brand-new wallpaper; the other, Giancarlo Robacci, is over with us having a rest at the Factory, Cell 3.’

Stevenson said to Scalo: ‘It’s your unlucky night.’

Scalo said: ‘I don’t know what you expect to find here.’

Stevenson said: ‘Not you, anyway.’ He went over to the phone and dialled the Factory. He said: ‘Bring up a car, yes, it’s to the Parallel again, regular minicab service, isn’t it? You’ve one with a wing down for St Stephen’s, the other wherever you’ve a spare cell in the building. Its name’s Scalo. Ice it, we’ve a search on, then we’ll be over with a few questions – yes, straightaway, nice one, bye.’

Scalo said: ‘You’re never going to nick me.’

Stevenson said: ‘What do you mean? That was it, they’re on their way, hot-throb.’

I said: ‘What we expect to find is some evidence concerning three revolting murders, and that’s what you came over to deal with, sweetheart – the phone works all the way from here to Rome.’

‘You see what it is,’ Stevenson said to Scalo kindly, ‘we can’t really get to work unscrewing this place properly when there are other folk about; you’re like jamming the vibes.’

I said to Scalo: ‘You any idea what we’re going to find in this place?’

Scalo looked blank: ‘None whatever.’

‘That’s it,’ I said encouragingly. ‘Your counsel won’t get you off, but you carry on like that and you’ll be giving him a helping hand; he might even get fond of you.’

There was a bang on the door; it was the squad car, I said to the two officers: ‘Weigh this lot off.’ I said to Scalo as they brought the
cuffs out: ‘Spend time till we get round to you trying to learn to be interesting.’ I said to the police driver: ‘Ask them to give him a bit of knitwear that fits him, by the way, will you? He’s strangling himself in that gear and we don’t want a death on our hands.’

Scalo said: ‘Look, just a minute. Listen, do I have to go in?’

‘I don’t see why not,’ I said, ‘or are you going to try and make yourself interesting? Better hurry if you are.’

‘I’ve got a lot of business on.’

‘I can see that,’ I said, ‘and I’m quite sorry for the punters.’

Scalo said: ‘What I mean is, I really haven’t the time to waste, going over to your place, so why can’t we talk?’ He gazed at the Rolex watch on his wrist, turning it towards him till it glowed under the single spot. ‘Nice watches these,’ he said.

‘They’re not really all that waterproof,’ I said, ‘and I find the kind of people that wear them far more exciting.’

Scalo said: ‘I mean, I really wouldn’t mind if we had a discussion.’

‘That depends what you’ve got to say, Mr Scalo,’ I said, and Stevenson said: ‘In any case, whatever you say, it’ll take time; you’ll have to ride down, make a statement, reread it and sign it – you probably know what police procedure is.’

‘Especially at the Factory,’ I said.

He looked at each of us and said: ‘Personally, I find three’s not a crowd.’

Stevenson said: ‘That’s lucky, isn’t it?’

Scalo said: ‘But your men here.’

Stevenson said: ‘They stay, sorry about that.’

Scalo said: ‘Pity we couldn’t have been more private.’

‘Ah, well there you are,’ I said, ‘we can’t always have the sunshine, can we?’

‘Anyway,’ said Scalo, ‘here’s one time when three’s not a crowd.’

‘Depends a good deal on which three,’ I said. ‘We’re the live three, the bright three. The other three are the dead three – Carstairs, Roatta and Suarez.’

‘I don’t suppose you’ve ever bothered about death much, Mr
Scalo,’ Stevenson said, ‘I expect that with those clothes you’ve got on and the watch you’re wearing, you’d far rather dance than die.’

‘I have thought about death, of course,’ said Scalo, watching us. ‘I’m a Catholic.’

‘Well, I’m glad you take death as seriously as we do,’ said Stevenson, ‘since this officer and myself are investigating these three particularly disgusting ones, and we are now going to take this place apart.’

‘That’s not how these things are generally arranged,’ said Scalo.

‘There you’re dead right,’ I said. ‘They’re arranged at our little family hotel round the corner. It’s called the Factory, and that is where you are now going, my fat old darling. It’s better than a Swiss spa for losing weight; people slim quicker with us than they do even on a thinning biscuit.’

‘Look,’ Scalo said, ‘frankly, how much to drop all this? Say ten long ones? I’ve got it on me. Get rid of your men and we can spiel.’

‘That’s not how it works at all,’ I said. ‘This one has gone way, way over the top.’

‘You won’t find anything,’ Scalo said.

‘Your problem might just possibly be that you don’t know what we’re looking for,’ Stevenson said, ‘in which case I bleed for you. On the other hand, you fucking well do know what we’re looking for, in which case you must have made your will. Now, you are going off to the Factory and we are going upstairs and around and about, as we do have a search warrant, and such keys as we have not already got we will just kick the doors down, and such damage as we may do to the property will be made good to you at a later date maybe – all right?’

‘Look,’ Scalo shouted, ‘you can’t walk all over a private citizen like that as if he was just dog shit.’

‘The paper I’ve got in my hand here says we can,’ said Stevenson. ‘I’ve been kind and read it out to you, haven’t I?’

He said: ‘I’ve got some murderous lawyers.’

I said: ‘Yes, I’ve heard they come on extremely heavy when it’s
a question of fees – we’ve all got to scam.’

Scalo said: ‘Are you like trying to take the piss?’

‘Yes,’ said Stevenson simply.

I looked down the bar into the shadows at the back of the place beside the door where the man had been photographed running out and I said to Stevenson: ‘I want to get up those stairs.’

‘Your warrant only covers the public premises!’ Scalo shouted.

‘The day you join the police force,’ Stevenson said, ‘an instructor will explain to you what a search warrant covers. What it covers will totally stagger you, darling – it covers exactly what this officer and myself decide we want it to cover.’ He said to the police driver: ‘Scrape this little twat of a gunman here up off the floor, he’s making a mess.’ He said to Scalo: ‘And you, sweetheart, get your wrists together ready so we can snap them on you, don’t be silly and argue about it.’

The two uniformed men jerked him towards them and cuffed him and Scalo screamed: ‘We’ve got our own means of justice, too.’

I whipped round on him and snarled: ‘Then use it on yourself, cunt, because I am going after Suarez’s killer no holds barred, and hell itself won’t stop me, let alone ten long ones.’

‘We usually deal with reasonable people,’ Scalo said.

‘And you are,’ I said, ‘you squalid little man, and our reasoning is that we are going to send the lot of you down for twenty years if we can.’

‘We’ll be down to see you when we’re through,’ Stevenson said.

‘We’ll bring a report over with us from the Westminster Hospital,’ I said, ‘and settle down in what we call the clever room over at the Factory and have a long serious talk about AIDS.’

Stevenson said to the officers: ‘Take this load of disgusting shit away, will you – I want shut of it.’

‘Suarez?’ Scalo gasped as the men started hurrying him out. ‘What? The little singer that flogged her arsehole? Why, Christ, we get hundreds of them a week!’

‘To infect people with what you gave her?’ I said. ‘Is that the brand-new scam? That girl died in agony, you broke her, I’ve just
read what she wrote where she was going to kill herself, only she was axed to death first; we’ve just come from the morgue. Herpes simplex, CMV, Karposi’s sarcoma, dental abscesses, a group of mucocutaneous warts in her anus bigger than barrage balloons.’

‘And the punters,’ said Stevenson, ‘got to spend up with you, haven’t they? Because once they’ve got it, they can only screw at your places – nobody else will have them.’

‘We’ll see,’ I said, turning away. ‘Could be. Friendly little club, the Parallel.’ I said to Stevenson: ‘Come on. Let’s break all this wide open.’