Lust on the Loose (23 page)

'My name is
Danny Fretwork. Some of you will have heard of me. And to those of
you who haven't - where the bloody hell have you been for the past
few years?'

The picture on
the large television was jumpy, obviously the camcorder operator
was not experienced. Nevertheless the bronzed and beefy face of the
nation's most wanted man was instantly recognisable to the small
audience of policemen and women crammed into the small office.
Among them, Sophie Stark shifted uncomfortably as she hung on
Danny's every word.

'First of all,
I've got to thank the proprietors of this television station for
giving me the chance to send a few messages of public interest.

'To the readers of the
Daily
Blizzard
I'd like to say I hope you enjoyed
my wife's stories about me. It was a good laugh, but you people
ought to know that her memory is what's known as selective. Very
soon I hope to set the record straight and tell you all the whole
truth. I promise you then you'll really split your
sides.

'To my wife, I
have only one thing to say and I said it to her face when I met her
just a couple of days ago. Now I'm going public so it's on the
record, witnessed by everyone who's watching this. Patsy, I love
you, I can't live without you and I want you back living by my
side. Our marriage vows are as sacred to me now as they were on the
day we wed.'

A loud
raspberry rang through the small room as Sophie's companions
reacted to Danny's bug-eyed sincerity with predictable derision.
But the laughter died on their lips as he continued.

'Here is my
message to the coppers: what a load of tossers you are. You
couldn't organise a bunk-up in a brothel. Here am I, strolling
round London as you can see,' and indeed, as he swayed to one side,
St Paul's could be clearly discerned on the opposite bank of the
Thames, 'and you haven't laid a finger on me. Frankly, if I was
paying British taxes I'd be disgusted.

'My final word is a personal message to Sergeant Sophie Stark.
I hear you're a bit of hot stuff, my darling, but I'd advise you to
hang your knickers up right now. You ain't sticking
my
dick in your trophy
cabinet.'

There was a
stunned silence in the poky office as Danny's face was replaced by
a white blizzard of static.

Mark Bacon
muttered, 'I didn't know you wore knickers, Sophie,' but nobody
laughed as the lights flickered on and a grim-faced Ambrosia Spicer
rose to her feet.

'That tape,'
she said, 'was delivered to the BBC just after eleven this morning.
They sent us this copy but tell us they'll be using it at the top
of the one o'clock news. We are going to look complete mugs.'

'Stop it going
out,' said a voice.

'We can't. If
it had just been the Beeb we might have had a chance but it's also
gone to ITN, Celestial and, we think, the satellite stations. We
can't gag the lot.'

'Oh shit,'
said someone.

'Precisely.
The news media and the politicians will have a field day with us,
then the top brass are going to jump all over me. And you know what
that means. If my tits are in the mangle I'm going to make sure
your nuts are wrung out at the same time. So, get out there and
find the bastard! He's not exactly inconspicuous, for Christ's
sake. At least, after that tape goes out everyone in the bloody
country will know exactly what he looks like!'

Chapter
40

Billy felt
awful. Tracy had been in tears as he had helped her into her
clothes and he felt a genuine tenderness for her as she sobbed into
the handkerchief he had thoughtfully provided.

'Oh Billy,'
she wailed, 'how could he be so horrible?'

'Years of
practice, I should think,' and he rubbed her back fraternally as
she hung on his neck and spilled her tears onto his shirt front.
'When you've gone I'll go and sort him out.'

She sniffed
loudly, obviously unimpressed. 'It's a nice thought, Billy, but
don't be a hero on my account.'

'Why not,
Tracy? I'm your devoted slave. Frankly, how he could turn down such
an utterly gorgeous creature like yourself boggles my
imagination.'

'Now hang on,
you make it sound as if I just marched up to him and asked for a
good shagging.' She pushed him away from her, instantly
indignant.

'That's
better, Tracy, you look much more like your old self.' And she did,
her blue eyes blazed, her perfect complexion flushed pink with
anger and her buoyant breasts bobbed deliciously between the
unbuttoned flaps of her jacket.

'That's a very
saucy outfit you've got on,' Billy continued, slipping a hand into
the breach and cupping the rosy fullness of her left boob. 'I like
the contrast between the severity of the cut and your natural
curves.'

The nipple was
big and erect beneath his thumb and she let him fondle her for a
moment before she said, 'Thanks, Billy. I feel a bit better
now.'

Billy pulled
her close and kissed her, gently at first, then more urgently, his
hands roaming lasciviously beneath her open jacket. She allowed him
these liberties without responding then stepped away to button
herself up.

'I'm sorry,
Billy, but I'm not going to let you bonk me on the sofa with that
pig sitting next door. I'll make it up to you, honest.' And with a
sly squeeze of the obvious erection tenting his trousers, she was
off down the corridor. Billy heard the front door slam behind her
with pained regret.

Brick was
reclining in the same position as before, stretched out across two
chairs, the big white Stetson completely covering his face.

Billy removed
the hat with a flourish, exposing the rock star to the full glare
of the sun. For a moment the lined basilisk face remained
motionless, then one eye flicked open. For the first time Billy
caught a glint of life deep within the void.

'Oh,' grunted
the singer.

'Did you have
to be so fucking rude? That girl is a fellow artist, one of
Imogen's top performers, she's also the country's biggest sex
symbol. She's very upset.'

'So?'

'So - so she's
gone storming off. She'll tell Imogen. She might tell the
Press!'

'I'm shaking
in my boots.' The eye snapped shut. 'Give me my hat back, Billy,
and fuck off.'

'No.'

Both eyes
opened this time and subjected Billy to the full force of their
reptilian glare.

'No,' repeated
Billy, 'not until you talk to me like a fellow human being. If you
don't I might just throw your precious hat off this balcony.'

There was a silence. Then Brick slowly swung his feet off the
chair and sat up. 'Oh shit,' he said, 'you'd better sit down, then.
And
please
may I
have my hat back?'

An hour later
Billy had got to the heart of the matter. Once he had opened his
mouth, Brick had scarcely been able to shut it again.

'Your friend,
Tracy Whoosit, she reminded me of a gal I met in Australia once.
Must have been in seventy-eight or nine. She was someone's PA or
something. She sets up this lunch with me in a hotel suite and
we're having all these fancy things and she's in this smart suit,
very business-like. And then she puts down her fork and starts
taking off her duds, talking all the time about these interviews
she's set up for me and meantime just stripping off. Beneath this
suit she's not wearing a stitch. And she has the most fantastic
body, all smooth and pink and waxed and pampered, with cute little
red toenails and a bare pink pussy with a neat little knot of
blonde curls right at the top of her slash. And, just like Tracy,
she has the most dick-standing gazonkas you ever clapped eyes on.
Just the most sensational tits. All thrusting out on their own and
yet moving and shifting like cream in a tub.'

'Did you throw
her out too?' asked Billy.

'You're
joking, man! I couldn't wait to get my face between those danglers.
I just dived in, knocked the table over as I recall and broke up
all those plates and glasses. We had someone clear up the mess next
day and they charged us extra and the papers ran a story about me
smashing up the room. The truth was I was dorking this doll with
the X-rated chest accessories for twenty-four hours straight. Yes
sir, they were the finest titties I ever saw, till maybe the pair
that just walked in here.'

'So why did
you tell Tracy to leave?'

'Because,
Billy, I can't do it any more. My dick gave up on me five years
back. You remember that thing I had with Tania Tingle?'

Billy nodded.
He remembered reading about Brick's last big romance, which had
produced an X-rated video, a Gretna marriage, a Reno divorce and a
schmaltzy remake of 'True Love' that had remained a late-night
banker for FM deejays the world over. All of Brick's marriages had
yielded significant commercial opportunities.

'That Tania
finally blew my tubes. She was a witch.

She used to
give me this stuff, her nooky juice she called it, which meant I
could stay in the saddle for twenty-four hours straight. We fucked
like bunnies for six months, anywhere and everywhere. But the human
frame has its limits. I'd try and tell her to slow down but she was
hooked on her multiple Os. She finally decided I wasn't strong
enough for her and she trawled the body-building scene till she
found some poor schmuck who wasn't gay and went off with him. Poor
sap. I sent a wreath to his funeral. I felt I should have warned
him. So I guess I had a lucky escape. But Tania didn't just break
my heart she stole my balls. Since she and I split I haven't been
able to get it up. Not once.'

'Would you
like to?'

'Are you
kidding, my friend? If I got my dick back I'd give little old Tracy
a hundred new suits for the pleasure of poking her sweet puss.'

'Really?'

'Sure thing.
But I don't live on pipe dreams.'

Billy said
nothing but he had just had a sudden flash of inspiration.

'In the
meantime,' said his talkative charge, 'I sure could use some more
tea.'

Sophie found
Ambrosia standing, still and silent, in the middle of her office.
Her shoulders were shaking and her left arm was held rigidly to her
side, fist clenched, the knuckles white. Her right hand held a
half-smoked cigarette that had burnt almost to the butt. Moisture
glistened on her cheek. The blinds had been drawn and the air was
blue with smoke.

'Oh,
Ambrosia!' said Sophie as she closed the door behind her. 'It's not
that bad, surely?' And she rushed to put her arm around the other
woman to comfort her.

Ambrosia did
not yield to the embrace but spoke in a low, urgent voice that
dripped with venom.

'Your sympathy
is misplaced, Sergeant Stark. You would do better saving it for
yourself. For your information I am trying very hard to control my
temper and my anger is directed principally at one person.
You.'

'But,
Ambrosia—'

'I know we
have both enjoyed the pleasure of carnal relations with one another
but I must insist that in this office you address me in a manner
more appropriate to our respective stations.'

'Yes,
ma'am.'

'I, on the
other hand, can call you what I fucking well like. And I am going
to call you a dirty little tart who is more interested in sucking
pussy than in doing her job.'

'But,
ma'am—'

'Shut up. It
is obvious from Fretwork's Jack-the-Lad video that he got on that
boat. I can just about understand how Bacon and his cretins failed
to spot him but I cannot comprehend how you could have done so.
After all, you were on the damn thing, weren't you?'

'I had to go
home on Monday. I was off duty for six or seven hours, I suppose.
He must have got aboard then.'

'So what
happened after that? Did you notice anything different about your
two companions?'

'Not
really.'

'Did it occur
to you that they were keeping something from you?'

'No. Things
went on much as before. They spent a lot of time working on this
book project of theirs. They seemed to have got quite close. I was
rather surprised by that. I thought at first that Patsy wouldn't
put up with Pandora for long but now she seems to me to be rather
taken with her.'

'Patsy
Fretwork enjoys having her cunt licked, wouldn't you say?'

'Yes, but it
was more than that. She seemed to absorb some of Pandora's ideas. I
thought it was good for her, actually. Pandy was encouraging her to
be more assertive.'

'So you
noticed nothing different when you got back.'

'No, just that
Patsy and Pandy were even more pally than before. All girls
together, you know, lots of giggles. I realised then that they'd
become good friends.'

'You all
carried on diddling one another, though, didn't you?'

'I'm
sorry?'

'Don't get coy
with me, Sophie. You all sucked each other off, didn't you?'

'Yes.'

'And you
carried on in the same way after you got back on Monday?'

'Not quite as
much, actually. To be honest, ma'am, sleeping with women is not
really my style. It can be pleasurable, of course, but it's not
something I want to do exclusively. I mean, I might if an
opportunity arose which, er...' Sophie ground to a halt.

'I see, so
having it off with Patsy and Pandora was simply in the line of
duty?'

'Well, you did
indicate that I should.'

'And going to
bed with me was simply in the cause of furthering your own
career?'

'No, of course
not, Ambrosia, that was entirely different.'

'Was it?'

'
Yes
.'

'I'm not
convinced, Sophie. You'll have to prove it.'