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Authors: Nick Quantrill

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BOOK: The Late Greats
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‘How can I help you?’ she asked.

‘I’m looking for Greg.’

‘Aren’t we all?’

‘It’s important.’

She looked me up and down, like she was deciding whether or not to take me seriously. ‘What do you want him for?’

I told her I was working for Major.

‘Haven’t seen him for a couple of days’ she said eventually.

‘Where did you last see him?’

‘At his flat. I stayed over.’

‘You don’t live together?’

‘Never have done. Greg likes his own space.’ She shrugged. ‘That’s way it is. I live above the shop.’

‘Right.’ It seemed a bit odd to me, but I let it go. ‘Did he say when he’d be in touch?’

‘No.’

‘Care to hazard a guess?’

‘No.’

I looked around the shop again before turning to her. ‘Nice place you’ve got here.’

‘It’s not bad.’

I glanced at a price tag. ‘No offence, but I’m surprised there’s a call for it here.’

‘You’d be surprised. There’s plenty of money around.’

She was right. Some wealthy people lived in the city’s suburbs. ‘You don’t sound like you’re from around here’ I said.

‘I can see why you’re a Private Investigator.’

I laughed. ‘Fair point.’

It softened her. ‘I’m from London. I met Greg down there when I was a fashion student. I moved up here when he decided he wanted to go back home.’

‘He set you up here?’

She nodded. ‘It made sense. Greg put the money up for the lease and paid for the first run of dresses.’ She turned away from me and busied herself tidying the nearest rail. ‘It’s a bit quiet at the moment.’

I thought about the band. Tasker was very much a jeans and T-shirt kind of man. The kind of everyman touch which helped boost his popularity. I couldn’t see this place being to his taste.

‘I’ve really no idea where he is’ she said again.

‘Anywhere you recommend I try?’

‘I really don’t know.’

‘What about his studio?’

‘He hates the place. Look, this isn’t the first time he’s gone missing like this. He’s done it before. He just takes off without telling anyone and then reappears a couple of days later, like nothing’s happened. He always has done. It’s his way of coping.’

‘What about his friends?’

She turned to face me. Angry. ‘You should try that slag, Lorraine.’

 

Siobhan had nothing further to tell me, so I headed to Tasker’s recording studio. It was a small unit on an industrial park, hidden away around the back of Hessle Road on a small industrial estate. It was sandwiched between a light engineering firm and a printing company. The fishing industry may be long gone, but the area had found new uses for itself. Time never stands still. I headed straight in. The reception area was bare, more an area for dumping equipment. I shouted out, but nobody answered. The place was unlocked and silent. I didn’t like the combination. To my left was a door. I walked into the main recording area. A man was slumped over the mixing desk, headphones on. I could hear music leaking out of them. I put a hand on his shoulder.

He shouted at me, sitting up. ‘What are you doing?’

It wasn’t Greg Tasker. ‘Looking for the boss.’ I sat down on a chair next to him. The mixing desk in front of me was huge, a bewildering array of switches and buttons.

‘Why don’t you knock like everyone else?’ the man said.

I pointed to the headphones and smiled. ‘You must have been in the zone.’

He took them off. ‘What do you want?’

‘I need to speak to Greg.’

‘He’s not here.’

‘Know where I’ll find him?’

He looked at me properly for the first time. ‘Who are you? I don’t talk to the press, alright?’

‘I’m not the press.’ I passed him a business card. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Why?’

I held my hands up. ‘Only asking.’

‘Michael Rusting’ he eventually said. ‘Greg been a naughty boy, has he?’ He smiled. ‘Jealous husband, is it?’ He stopped and turned away from me, like he knew he’d said too much.

I waited a few moments, but he didn’t offer any more. ‘I’m not interested in that stuff’ I lied. ‘Nothing to do with me. When did you last see him?’

‘Who do you work for?’ he asked.

‘Kane Major.’

He considered the information. ‘What does he want to speak to Greg about?’

I shrugged and played dumb. I didn’t know who knew about the reunion. ‘I don’t ask too many questions’ I said, before repeating myself. ‘When did you last see him?’

‘Sometime last week. He doesn’t spend too much time around here. Don’t see him much at all, really.’

‘Got his mobile number?’ I wondered if it’d match the number Major had given me.

He shook his head. ‘I’m not giving you it.’

It was worth a try. ‘Any idea where I might find him?’

‘Have you tried his girlfriend?’

I nodded. ‘Spoke to her earlier.’

‘Surprised. She’s usually down in London, supposedly meeting designers and buying stock. Must cost him a packet.’

‘She mentioned a woman called Lorraine.’

He laughed. ‘I’m not surprised. She hates her. Lorraine runs a New Holland website. Obsessed with the band.’

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

As soon
as I was back at the office, I switched my laptop on. Sarah sat at her desk, hard at work. Don was on the phone. Father and daughter working in harmony.

I spoke to Sarah. ‘I need to find a woman called Lorraine. She runs a New Holland website.’

‘Why?’

I explained about Tasker’s disappearance.

‘Who is she?’

‘Someone who might know where he is. His girlfriend thinks they were having an affair.’

Don had finished his call. ‘This isn’t the job we signed up for’ he said.

‘It’s the job we’ve got now’ I replied. He hadn’t been keen on me taking the contract. If it went well, the work would go on for several months. And steady work wasn’t to be turned down. There weren’t many jobs coming in. Although Don was the senior partner, I’d made a judgment call. I knew Sarah would side with her father, but my decision was for the best. Don was old-school. I could see the bigger picture. The bank account was running on empty.

Sarah worked quickly, searching Google, until she found the website. I walked across to her desk.

She pointed at the screen. ‘There you go.’

I asked Sarah to email me the link and went back to my desk. The website was basic, but up to date, the news page hinting that the band was considering reforming. Lorraine had some level of inside information. I clicked onto the contact page. Just an email address. It would have been too easy any other way. I typed out a message, asking her to contact me. It was the best I could do for now.

‘You reckon he’s with her?’ Sarah asked me.

‘Best lead I’ve got so far’ I replied.

‘Maybe he’s lying low?’

‘Maybe.’

We both looked up as Julia Gowans knocked on the door and walked in. Don must have left it unlocked. She was wearing jeans and a casual top, but she was carrying her laptop. She was here on business.

I smiled and said hello. ‘Wasn’t expecting to see you.’

Don picked his coat up and said he needed to be somewhere. I said I’d speak to him later. I turned to Sarah and shrugged. She turned away from me.

Julia spoke. ‘The area hasn’t changed much since I left. I must have staggered down the cobbles a fair few times when I was younger.’

Our office was in the Old Town of Hull. It sat on the edge of the city centre, nuzzled quietly up against the River Hull. In the past, warehouses lined High Street, now it was small offices and the museum quarter. The area boasted some of the city’s oldest drinking places only yards from our office, but the increase in apartments and student accommodation meant the loud chain pubs were moving in. It wasn’t change for the better in my eyes.

‘What have you been doing?’ I asked Julia.

‘I’ve been working from the hotel. Keeping busy.’

Sarah stood up and left the room.

‘What are you working on?’ she asked me, taking a seat.

‘This and that’ I said, closing down the New Holland website.

‘Heard from Kane?’

‘Not since earlier.’

She leaned closer to me. ‘I was hoping you might know if Greg was feeling any better.’

I smiled. ‘Can’t help, I’m afraid.’

‘I was hoping to get to their next rehearsal’ she said.

‘I’m sure Kane will let you know when they’re ready for you.’

‘Maybe we could drop by the rehearsal room, see how they’re getting on?’

‘I’ll see what I can do for you.’

She sat back in her chair. ‘Are you a fan of the band?’ she asked me.

‘That would be telling’ I said.

‘You’re a diplomat. That’s good, but you don’t have to worry, I won’t mention it in my reports.’

‘They’re not my favourite band in the world’ I admitted.

‘Not even the early stuff?’

‘The first album’s not bad. They had something then.’

‘You should have seen them before they were famous.’

‘Big fan, were you?’

‘I went to a lot of their early gigs when I was a student. The Adelphi. The Blue Lamp. Good times. Once word got out about them and they started to attract a crowd, it changed.’ She paused. ‘You were probably a bit too old given that you’d been Greg’s babysitter.’

She was playing with me again. I smiled. ‘I’m not that much older than you.’

‘I’ve still got their debut single somewhere’ she said. ‘Limited edition vinyl. Yellow, I think. Might be worth something now. I think I’ve still got a demo tape they sold at gigs somewhere, too.’

‘Hardcore fan’ I said.

She stood up and headed to the door. ‘I’d love to continue chatting, but tell Kane this wasn’t what we agreed. He said I’d have full access to the band whenever I wanted it. I haven’t got time to be sat doing nothing. If he’s got a problem, any kind of problem, you should tell him to give me a call.’ She turned back to face me. ‘And don’t forget he told me you’re at my disposal.’

I watched the door close. I was sure she knew something was wrong.

 

I called Major. Early evening and I’d made no progress. If I was going to have Julia on my back, he was going to have to be more helpful.

‘What’s the score?’ he said after he’d eventually answered my call.

‘Still looking.’ I could hear noise in the background. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m going outside.’ He told me to wait a minute. It was quieter when he came back on the line.

‘I’m at the fucking Guildhall. A Civic Reception.’

‘Why?’ I didn’t understand. I knew the place, but I’d never been invited in. Not even when I had been playing rugby.

‘Do you think I want to be here, PI?’ Major said. ‘There’s a lot riding on this reunion. Not just for me. It makes the city look good, too. PR. Everyone wants a piece of good news, especially the freeloading arts cunts who invited me here.’

I stopped his rant and updated him on what I’d been doing and my lack of a breakthrough.

‘Fuck’s sake. You keep looking, alright?’ he said.

‘It’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.’

‘No it’s not. That’s why I’m paying you. You’re supposed to be a professional. We’re in Hull, not London. This place is like a fucking village by comparison.’

‘It’s not my job’ I told him.

‘Your job is whatever I say it is.’

‘My job is to keep an eye on the band and Julia Gowans.’

‘Don’t you think that includes keeping an eye on the singularly most important member of the band?’

I was tempted to hang up. I took a moment. Made my decision. ‘My invoice will be in the post.’

‘What?’

‘We’re done. It’s not the job I signed up for. You should go to the police. They can help you. I can’t.’

‘Hold on, PI. Without Tasker, there’s no band’ he said. ‘And with no band, there’s no reunion. With no reunion, there’s no story. And with no story, there’s nothing. We’re all wasting our time.’ He paused. ‘I’ll double your money, alright?’

It was as close to an apology as I was going to get. And the money would be useful. Not that I’d seen any yet.

‘Start again. What have you got for me?’ he said.

I told him who I’d spoken to and how I hadn’t turned up any concrete leads on where Tasker might be.

‘The studio’s a waste of time’ he said.

‘His engineer said he wasn’t there too often.’

‘Sounds about right. It’s a shithole. It isn’t hi-tech enough to attract decent bands, but it’s too expensive for your local bands.’ He shrugged. ‘Pointless. No good to anybody.’

‘I’ve spoken to Greg’s girlfriend’ I said. ‘She thinks he was having an affair with a woman called Lorraine. She runs a New Holland website.’

‘I know who you mean. She’s been hanging around the band like a bad smell from day one. She’s fucking weird.’

‘Weird?’

‘Too interested, wants to get too close. The kind who’s probably got a shrine dedicated to the band in her back bedroom. Might stick a knife in your back one day, you know the sort.’

‘Do you know where I’ll find her?’

‘No idea, PI. I’m not in touch with her, other than the odd email. She’s been sniffing around, wanting to know if there was going to be a reunion. I wouldn’t be surprised if Greg’s been opening his mouth to her.’

‘Are they sleeping together?’ I asked.

‘How would I know?’

‘I need more’ I said.

‘All I know is he’s been with Siobhan for a while. Dragged her up from London. The works. If he’s been a naughty boy, I wouldn’t know about it.’

I changed the subject. ‘We might have a problem with Julia’ I said.

‘What kind of problem?’

‘She was sniffing around earlier, wanting me to sort her some time out with the band. I think she knows he’s missing.’

‘She knows nothing. She’s rattling your cage, trying to see if you’ll let anything slip. I know people like her. They’re parasites. She’ll use you to get what she wants and then she’ll spit you back out again. You tell her nothing and I’ll keep her in line if she gets out of hand.’

I didn’t like the suggestion I couldn’t handle her, but I didn’t push it any further. ‘Do you think Greg’s alright?’

Major went quiet. I could hear the party going on behind him in the background. ‘I know where you’re going with that thought, PI. But I’ll tell you this; you’re wrong. Greg played me a CD full of new songs recently. He’s going to be massive again and I’m going to make sure it happens. What happened before was a mistake. It was a long time ago. Greg said it had been a cry for help, nothing more. It’s not relevant. Are we clear on that? He’s coming back.’

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