The Tangled Web (18 page)

‘How do you know so much about this?’ Flic wheedled.

‘Magnus told me.  Apparently he used to volunteer at a
shelter for the homeless down in Glasgow.  He’s done loads of voluntary work,’
Vicky swooned.

‘Pffft.  Yeah.  Of course he did.  Anyway, we might have to
get her something decent to wear,’ Flic conceded as they reached the door and
the girl came into their eye-line. 

Vicky noted that she was wearing a long black skirt and an
oversized black puffa jacket.  Her hair was tucked into a snood but some greasy
strands had escaped.  Vicky remembered a faint smell of sweat when they had met
in HMV. 

‘Do you agree that she would be perfect?’ Vicky smirked.

‘I’m not saying perfect, but it’s worth a try,’ Flic
conceded.

By the time they reached her pitch, the girl had started
chatting to a passer-by in an attempt to sell a magazine.  Flic breezed over to
a security guard standing close to the door with his arms folded.

‘See that Big Issue seller over there?  Do you know her at
all?’ Flic wheedled.

‘Aye, that’s Lumi,’ he nodded.

‘She’s foreign, isn’t she?’ Vicky asked.

‘Romanian, I think,’ he replied.

‘Where does she live?’ Flic continued her interrogation. 
‘Oh, hang on, she’s homeless, she doesn’t live anywhere,’ Flic pretended to
correct herself without waiting for a reply.

‘Actually, she does have a place,’ the guard advised,
stroking his bearded chin.

‘Really?  Where is it?’ Vicky probed.

‘I don’t know.  I just know that she’s sleeping on a
friend’s couch.  She has been for the last two months.  Before that she was in
a hostel, but it wasn’t in Inverness.  I think it was in London,’ he said,
nodding to himself.

‘London?’ Vicky and Flic repeated in unison.

‘That’s perfect, Diana’s supposed to live in London,’ Flic
chortled.  The reaction from Flic made the guard eye them suspiciously.

‘Any more questions, you can ask her yourself.  I’m sure
she’ll be happy to chat if you buy one of her papers,’ he scowled before
walking off in the direction of the food court.

Flic pounced the second that the potential customer began
to edge away.  She lifted her chin and marched towards Lumi who was arranging
her magazines in her arm for display. 

‘Hello,’ Lumi smiled.  ‘Beeg Eeshoo Ma’am?’

‘Hello.  I’ll take one,’ Flic nodded towards her bundle of
magazines.

Lumi handed a copy of the magazine to Flic, who handed over
a twenty pound note.  Flic leaned closer to Lumi’s face and blatantly examined
her.  Lumi pulled back and scowled.

‘I’ll take them all actually!’ Flic grinned.

‘Flic, what are you doing?’ Vicky snapped from behind her. 
Lumi’s eyes darted from Flic to Vicky and back to Flic, looking wary.

‘We actually wanted to talk to you about something,’ Vicky
began, hoping to dispense with the creepy awkwardness Flic was creating.

‘It wasn’t me who stole your socks, I promise,’ Lumi whined
in a thick accent, taking another step back. 

Flic shook her head in confusion.  ‘No, I think you’re
confusing us with someone else.  We have a business proposition for you,’ she
asserted.

‘I don’t sell that stuff anymore.  You want Viagra, you’ll
have to talk to Magda,’ Lumi nodded abruptly. 

‘Viagra?  This isn’t about socks, or Viagra.  This is about
an offer we have to make to you,’ Vicky said more quietly, trying to soften her
approach.

‘What kind of offer?’ Lumi queried.  Her dark eyes were
cautious and alert. 

Flic pulled Vicky’s elbow and muttered, ‘This is a no-go,
Diana has blonde hair and blue eyes.’

‘We can shoot her in black and white,’ Vicky winked at
Flic.

Flic sighed, folded her arms and nodded, ‘Ok, fine.’

‘Shoot?’ Lumi panicked then began to fire abuse at them in
Romanian.

Vicky turned back to Lumi.  ‘No, no, not shoot with a gun! 
We’re photographers and we need models for a photo shoot,’ she fibbed.

‘What kinds of photographers wear your clothes?  Where’s
your cameras?  You have no cameras,’ Lumi observed.  She looked Flic over,
deciding her outfit wasn’t appropriate for a photographer.

‘I’ll be honest with you.  We’re private investigators and
we work undercover,’ Flic interrupted.

Vicky scrunched her face.  Flic was being too upfront.  Her
honesty actually sounded like lies.

‘Really?  What do you investigate?’ Lumi asked, suddenly
more interested.

‘Cheating husbands mostly, but sometimes we investigate
cheating wives too,’ she replied coolly, using her most professional and
polished voice, one Vicky usually only heard her using on the phone.  The
snooty unhelpful cow voice.

‘What do you need me for?  I’m single and have no
boyfriend,’ Lumi shrugged.

‘Why don’t you come inside?  We’ll go for a coffee and talk
about it,’ Vicky proposed.

‘I have work to do.  Unless you were serious about buying
them all,’ Lumi reminded them, lifting her bundle of magazines.

‘How many do you have left?’ Flic asked. 

Lumi quickly counted her bundle.  ‘I have seven,’ she said.

‘Ok, we’ll buy all your magazines, and buy you a lunch as
long as you hear us out,’ Flic proposed. 

Lumi showed the palm of her hand, gesturing she was looking
for the payment and Flic placed the twenty pound note in her palm. 

‘And I want that UB40 CD you bought.  I couldn’t afford
it,’ she smirked in Vicky’s direction.

‘Fine.  I’ll get another one for Pamela,’ Vicky grumped.

‘Lets go have lunch!’ Lumi enthused.

*****

Ten minutes later they were dining at the Debenhams café. 
Lumi and Flic both picked seats next to the window, overlooking the train
station.  Vicky stayed away from the window to give her easier access to
Sasha’s stroller.  She was thankful her daughter had gone to sleep. 

Lumi tucked into her lasagne and chips and didn’t appear
too interested in why they had bought her a meal.  She asked no questions. 
Vicky and Flic exchanged nervous glances as they sipped on their carrot and
coriander soups.  As soon as Flic was finished she pulled her red folder from
her oversized black patent handbag.  She didn’t wait for Lumi to finish eating.

‘This folder is our portfolio,’ Flic began, suddenly
appearing very business-like. 

Vicky leaned forward and clasped her hands in front of
her.  She too wanted to look like she could be taken seriously.  Lumi slurped
her cola and listened intently.

‘We’ve been in business for a short time, but we’ve been
very successful so far.  We’re a web-based company who use social networking
sites to trap cheating spouses.  We’re called HunE-trap Investigations,’ she
continued, pointing to the newspaper article written by Peter with the headline
from which they took their name.  Lumi’s eyes widened when she saw the
newspaper article.

‘Fuck!  You’re famous!  So how do you trap them?’ Lumi
asked shovelling in more pasta. 

Vicky noticed that, now that she had relaxed, Lumi’s accent
wasn’t quite as strong as it had been when she was selling her magazines.  Her
English was actually very good.  In fact, it was almost perfect.  Vicky
wondered if maybe she exaggerated her accent and tried to dumb down her
vocabulary to play the sympathy card.  It had certainly worked on her.

‘We make a fake profile with a character we think the
cheating spouse will be attracted to and we befriend them.  We try to involve
them in conversations which show that they are willing to cheat on their
partner, either by cybersex, or by meeting in real life to start a real
affair,’ Flic explained.

‘That’s not a very nice job.  Is it successful?’ Lumi
furrowed her brow.

‘Yes, sometimes it is.  There have been times when the
spouse we’re investigating suggests a meeting and there have been times when
the spouse sends explicit emails or messages.  We’ve had one man who made it
clear that he wasn’t interested in anything but friendship.  That was the most
satisfying assignment,’ Flic smiled.

‘Good money for this type of work?’ Lumi probed.

‘Well, it depends on how long the job takes and how much
time we spend working,’ Vicky replied. 

Lumi turned to look out of the window at the train station,
clasping her cola cup.  She turned her attention back to Flic and Vicky after a
moment, appearing thoughtful.

‘What kind of picture do you want?  I don’t do naked
pictures,’ she asserted.

‘That’s ok.  We don’t want that kind of picture.  We just
want a picture of you looking happy and relaxed.  Maybe you could wear jeans
and a little top and Vicky could fix your make-up and hair so that you look
your absolute best,’ Flic suggested with a smile.  Vicky was willing to bet
that Flic was performing this make-over in her mind already.

‘Who will my character be?’ Lumi asked, looking a little
more enthusiastic and less wary.

‘We need your picture for a Polish girl called Diana
Dutkowiak,’ Vicky began.

‘But I’m not Polish!’ Lumi cried, visibly startled.

‘It’s fine.  You don’t need to be Polish.  We just need a
picture of a pretty girl.  That’s you,’ Flic nodded towards her. 

Lumi didn’t look as flattered as Vicky thought she should
have been.

‘Tell me more about Diana.  How did you invent this girl? 
What does she do for a living?  Who am I?’ she probed.

‘The name Diana was a random choice, and Dutkowiak
was…..the last name of a Polish boy I knew at school,’ Flic fibbed, remembering
it was the name of a man who worked in this café – the man who had served her
both yesterday and today.  She deliberately stared directly at Lumi to avoid
turning her head towards the till, where he was standing.  ‘Diana is a hotel
chamber-maid who lives in London.  She works at The Dorchester.’

‘I used to work in a hotel, as a maid, while I was studying
at university,’ Lumi said softly, casting her eyes downwards. 

For a few seconds Lumi appeared emotional, and Vicky wondered
if she was going to burst into tears.  She reached for a tissue from her bag
under the stroller while Flic kept describing Diana, explaining everything
about the character’s bio on her profile; how she loves Greek, Italian and
English boys, how she just celebrated her twenty-first birthday and what her
ambitions are. 

‘It sounds like she has a realism about her,’ Lumi nodded
thoughtfully.

‘She does.  I’m sorry, your English seems so much better
than it did half an hour ago.  Can I ask why?’ Flic shot.

‘Three years I have been here.  Two years in London, ten
months in Glasgow and the rest of the time I’ve been here in Inverness,’ she
confirmed, ignoring Flic’s statement about her English.

‘How did you come to be homeless?’ Vicky asked.  ‘You seem
so well educated.’

‘I moved here with my boyfriend.  We worked in the same
hotel.  I had some bad luck and started to drink a lot, to feel better.  I
split up with my boyfriend. He told me to get out.  I only had a little money
and I used it to travel to Glasgow to visit a friend, but when I arrived she
had gone so I was homeless.  I had no money and I had nowhere to stay,’ she
answered, matter-of-factly.

‘So what did you do?’ Vicky pressed, her voice croaky from
emotion after hearing about Lumi’s bad luck.  That could easily happen to
anyone, she thought.

‘I went to a church.  There was a priest there who took me
to a hostel.  I slept there and the priest helped me stop drinking.  After some
time I felt stronger and I was able to forget about alcohol long enough to
start a job selling The Big Issue.  It’s still difficult some days,’ she
reflects. ‘But I have somewhere to stay.  I live with two boyfriends.’

‘Two boyfriends?  Jesus!  I have enough trouble keeping
one!’ Flic blurted.

‘They are much in love.  I’m their gooseberry sometimes, so
I need money to find my own house,’ Lumi explained.

‘Oh, THEY are boyfriends.  With each other.  Right, I
thought you were….’ Flic trailed off.

‘Um, moving on,’ Vicky shook her head dismissively.  ‘If
you agree to let us take a picture we can buy you an outfit to wear for the
photo shoot.  Flic is our photographer.  She knows all about the best lighting
and which angles look good.’

‘New clothes?  From where?  I can have something from this
shop?’ Lumi brightened.

‘Yes, if you like,’ Flic replied.  ‘I’ll arrange for you to
get a personal shopper, so that they recommend something flattering for you.’ 
She eyed Lumi’s puffa jacket and wrinkled her nose disdainfully.

‘These are just my working clothes.  I usually look much
nicer,’ Lumi assured Flic. 

‘Come to this address tonight at seven,’ Vicky instructed,
tearing a scrap of paper from a notebook.  She began to write her own address
before Flic nudged her, grabbing the paper and pen and scoring out what Vicky
had written to replace it with her own address.