What You Wish For (15 page)

I glanced at the sign as I approached the book shop – and found myself face-to-face with Kevin.

His eyes widened with fear. The last time I saw him he had been lying on the floor of his flat, my thumbprints on his windpipe. I opened my mouth to apologise, to try to make peace, but he turned tail and ran off down the street, splashing through a deep puddle, ignoring my call of ‘Wait!’

Shrugging, I went inside. A girl with long pink hair smiled at me from behind a counter where expensive greetings cards stood on a rack beside the till. The shop specialised in ‘mind, body and spirit’ titles, as well as books about the paranormal, drug culture, vegetarian cookery and left-of-centre politics. I wasn’t sure exactly how ufology fitted in with all this. Did believing in UFOs go along with an interest in macrobiotic food and the Alexander technique? I doubted it, but the people who frequented this bookshop all had one thing in common: they were looking for answers, and didn’t believe they would find those answers in mainstream culture.

Samantha O’Connell sat behind a table at the back of the shop, a pile of books beside her, a queue of five people in front, each of whom was granted a quick chat, a word of encouragement and a personal inscription to go with their purchase of her latest book.

She wasn’t as attractive in real life as she was on her dust jacket, but she had a presence born of confidence. There was a profound intelligence in her eyes, and when she spoke she was animated, her whole face moving to accentuate her words: eyebrows arching, smile broadening, eyes widening. She entranced people, and her fans didn’t want to leave their place at the table after she’d signed their copy of her book.

I took my place in the queue and awaited my turn. I wondered what Kevin had been doing here. Probably just a fan.

Samantha looked up at me. She had eyes like Marie: frosted blue. Hypnotic. She opened the copy of the book I’d just bought and asked who to make it out to.

‘Can you sign it to a friend of mine? It’s a present.’

‘Of course. What’s his name?’ she asked.

I leaned a little closer. ‘Andrew. Andrew Jade.’

Her pen skidded across the paper.

She looked up at me, shock and suspicion written all over her face. ‘Andrew Jade’s dead,’ she said finally.

I leant across the table. ‘I know. But I want to ask you some questions about him.’

Her voice rose an octave. ‘Who are you?’

‘My name’s Richard. My girlfriend Marie was close to Andrew Jade and now she’s disappeared. I’m trying to find her and I think I can only do that through Andrew. Because . . .’

I didn’t get a chance to finish.

Samantha stood up and shouted to the girl with pink hair. ‘Nicky, get security. This man’s bothering me.’

I protested. ‘But I just want to ask you some questions . . .’

Samantha waved her arms. ‘Help! Help!’

A man emerged from a door behind the counter and rushed over at me. He grabbed my upper arm.

‘I was just . . .’

Samantha was wailing, her hands covering her face. What an actress. I tried to pull away from the security man, but his grip was too strong. He dragged me to the door and pushed me out into the rain, giving me a shove. I skidded on the wet pavement and fell onto my side. The man shouted at me then slammed the shop door shut.

I got up, went back over to the window and looked through. Samantha was talking to the girl with pink hair and the security guard, acting like she’d just been through a terrible torment. I wanted to go back inside but what was the point?

I was certain she knew something important.

I could wait till she came out, follow her . . . But then the security guard came back outside.

‘If you don’t fuck off we’re calling the police.’

‘All right.’ I had no choice. I walked away. I would have to find some other way of getting to Samantha O’Connell.

15

Gary Kennedy lived in a large, detached house in Hove. Ivy crept up stone walls;
koi
swam in an ornate pool beside the drive. I parked and checked the address. Surely this couldn’t be the right place?

Gary saw the look of astonishment on my face as I locked my car. ‘Welcome to my crib.’ He grinned.

I followed him into the front hall. The walls were lined with framed photographs of naked girls, most of them signed:
To Gary, you taught me so much, Love Lynda; To Gary, my body was made for you, Tanya xxx
.

‘You’ve made all this money from online porn?’ I asked.

‘Erotica, you mean. No, I’m a serial entrepreneur. Started out making DVDs, even dabbled with a magazine at one point. It’s all online now, though. I’ve got twenty-one adult subscription sites and Planet Flesh is actually one of the smallest. It’s so niche.’ He laughed. ‘But we’re able to charge a premium because the punters’ tastes are so specialist. Same with one of our other sites, Fists of Fury.’ He led me up a twisting staircase while I tried not to think about what was on Fists of Fury.

He showed me into his office. I sat at the near side of the desk and he took a seat opposite. On the wall to the left was a poster-sized picture of a naked Cherry Nova, a coy expression on her over-made-up face.

Gary saw me looking at the picture. ‘Stunning,’ he said.

I nodded.

‘It broke my heart when she disappeared.’

‘I’m sure.’

The way he was looking at me made me feel nervous. He stared at me for a few seconds more and then leaned back, hands behind his head.

‘The talent will be here in a minute. I want you to spend the day with them, get to know them. That way you’ll work better together. These are girls I’ve been using for a while. They’re experienced.
Professional
.’

‘Right.’

‘Today’s just, like, a meet and greet. I’ve booked a studio for you next week so you can do the first shoot. We’ll be making a couple of new movies too.’

If someone had told me twelve months ago that I would be having this conversation I would have wondered what cocktail of drugs they had ingested. For a fleeting moment I considered standing up, walking out, giving in. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until I had found her, would never stop wondering about her. Then there was the promise I’d made to her mum. I had to go through with this.

‘I take it you’ve had no word from Cherry?’ I said.

He gave me a look that was rather too piercing to be
comfortable
.

‘If only,’ he said. ‘I was going to make that girl rich. She had real superstar quality, Cherry. You know every now and then a girl from the business crosses over, becomes properly famous? That could have been Cherry.’

His eyes misted over, no doubt at the thought of all the money he was going to miss out on.

‘How did you meet Cherry?’ I asked. ‘You told me you’d discovered her yourself.’

He nodded proudly. ‘I met her in a nightclub. Digital – do you know it? Used to be the Zap.’

I said yes.

‘This was a couple of summers ago. Maybe three. She was with this other girl, dancing, really going for it. I thought they were dykes at first but they were just doing that thing girls do . . . putting on a show. I watched her all night.’

He stared into space, the image of Cherry dancing with this other girl making him lick his lips.

‘Funny thing,’ he said. ‘That was the night I met Andrew Jade. I was doing a bit of dealing at that time. E, acid, a bit of coke – and this nervous-looking bloke came up and scored a couple of tabs of E. We got talking and he told me he was a photographer. He saw me looking at Cherry and her friend on the dance floor. “I’d love to photograph them,” he said. He said he specialised in erotic photographs so of course we got talking.’

The more I found out about Andrew, the more I loathed him.

‘Weird bloke,’ Gary said. ‘A bit older than me, not exactly a silver fox, but he’d managed to persuade a lot of young chicks to take their clothes off for him. When he first told me about aliens I thought he was nuts. But he gave the impression it was like some new religion. And he showed me the earnings potential of this niche. So Jade did me a favour.’

He sighed and looked at Cherry’s picture.

I followed his gaze. ‘Do you think he had something to do with Cherry’s disappearance?’

It was an indiscreet question, a connection that I could only make if I knew more than I was letting on. I instantly regretted it.

Gary narrowed his eyes. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘I don’t know. It’s just that you don’t seem to have liked him very much.’

He stared at me, and was about to answer when the doorbell rang. ‘Ah,’ he said, relaxing. ‘The girls are here.’

He directed another piercing look in my direction, then got up and went downstairs. I sat at his desk and waited. I felt uncomfortable, sweaty. I lit a cigarette and looked at the bottle of scotch. Maybe I should have accepted.

I smoked the cigarette all the way down before Gary returned. There were two women with him. The first was a bottle blonde of about twenty-one. She had eyes the colour of Granny Smith apples and pale, translucent skin. The other woman was Asian, with cropped black hair and large, sleepy eyes. She looked about
nineteen
.

‘Freya and Safire,’ Gary said, indicating the blonde first then the Asian woman. ‘Girls, this is Richard.’

I felt as awkward as a virgin visiting a brothel. From the way Freya smiled at me I could tell she could sense my discomfort. But Gary was too busy banging around making drinks and talking about how he was going to turn the two girls into stars to notice.

Had these women known Marie? I still didn’t know if the pictures I had found were a one-off, or whether Marie’s role as a star of alien porn was an ongoing one. Was that what she was doing now? Had she got sucked into the porn universe? Was she with Cherry?

Gary handed Freya and Safire their drinks and stood up.

‘I’ve got to see a man about an alien,’ he announced, roaring at his own joke. ‘I’ll leave you three to get better acquainted.’

Safire came over to the desk and sat opposite me. She took a ready-rolled spliff out of her inner pocket and lit up, blowing smoke in my direction. She offered me some and, after hesitating for a moment, I thought
fuck it
. I took a deep drag and felt a head rush immediately. It was strong stuff.

‘How long have you worked for Gary?’ I asked, trying not to cough.

Safire shrugged. ‘A few months. We don’t work
for
him though. I’m a free agent. I’ve got a lot of other stuff going on. A lot of other stuff . . .’ She trailed off and took a drag on the spliff.

‘What kind of stuff?’ I asked.

‘Like, I’m going to star in a film. This guy I know is going to introduce me to Steve McQueen. You know, the director?’

Freya laughed. ‘Safire’s one of these deluded wannabe-starlets,’ she said to me. ‘She thinks porn’s a step on the ladder. She hasn’t sussed out that it’s a dead end yet.’

Safire tutted loudly then closed her eyes, leaned back and continued to smoke, acting like she was alone in the room.

Freya stood up. ‘Let’s get on with it, shall we?’

She opened a door on the other side of the room and beckoned for me to follow her.

‘Is this Gary’s bedroom?’ I asked.

The room contained a water bed, a couple of lava lamps, a furry rug and mirrors on the walls and ceiling. It was like stepping into a seventies porno.

‘This is where Gary films his amateur dramatics,’ Freya said. ‘See, there’s a camera up there. He tapes himself with all of his girls. Calls it a screen test.’

She sat on the water bed and patted the space beside her. ‘Come and sit down.’

‘That’s OK.’

She reached down and unzipped her boots, kicking them across the room. She pulled her top up over her head, revealing a red lace bra.

‘What are you doing?’

She tilted her head. ‘Are you gay?’

‘No. But . . .’

‘So what’s the problem?’

She held out her hands towards me.

‘Is that what Gary told you to do?’

She made a ‘duh’ face. ‘He wanted me to get close to you.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m . . . er . . . you’re very attractive but . . .’

She found this hilarious and flopped back on the bed, the surface rippling, which made her laugh even more.

‘Is it because you’re being faithful to Cherry?’

I was so surprised I didn’t know what to say.

Freya hauled herself up and laughed.

‘What are you talking about?’ I said.

‘Come on, you can tell me. Gary thinks you’re trying to find Cherry. Hey, don’t look so shocked. You must have known he’d see through your act. You’re not a photographer. You’re a private detective, aren’t you? You’re trying to find Cherry.’

‘I think I’d better go,’ I said.

I moved to leave but Freya bounced up off the bed and dodged round me, so she was barring my way out.

‘If you’re trying to con Gary, you’re in deep shit. He’s dangerous. He won’t hesitate to hurt you. He threatened to kill Andrew on more than one occasion. And if you have got something to do with Cherry, then you’re dead. He’s obsessed with her. Totally in love with the silly bitch.’

I imagined Gary coming after me. There were probably guns here. Or maybe he would use his fists. He’d probably enjoy that more.

‘I think we’d better talk,’ I said.

She sat back on the water bed. I stood on the fake-fur rug.

‘I’m not a private detective,’ I said, ‘and I’m not interested in finding Cherry, although she is linked, possibly . . .’

She blinked at me. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘I’m trying to find my girlfriend. Her name’s Marie Walker and she went missing last month. After she went I found photographs of her and aliens, pictures that have appeared on the Planet Flesh site. That’s why I’m here.’ I explained to her about Andrew, and about the trail I had been following.

‘Not Cherry?’

‘No. I have no interest in her.’

She scrutinized me. Finally, she said, ‘All right. I believe you, I guess.’

I shifted from foot to foot. ‘What did you mean when you said that Gary threatened to kill Andrew?’

‘Just that. When Gary found out that Cherry and Andrew were an item . . .’

‘Hang on – Cherry and
Andrew?
’

‘That’s what I said. Gary went mental. He hit her, threatened to do some fucking awful things to her, and to Andrew. I was here when it happened. Cherry was talking about it with me and Safire. She was saying how inspirational Andrew was, how he had shown her the light, all this bullshit. She was besotted. She said it had been going on before she met Gary, but Andrew had told her not to tell anyone. That first night in the club, it was a set-up. Andrew arranged for Cherry to go home with Gary. He wanted Gary to use Cherry as a model. I don’t suppose he realised Gary would become so besotted with her.’

I tried to get my head round this. ‘How did Cherry feel about doing the alien erotica?’

‘She loved it. She was always going on about aliens and flying saucers and conspiracies. Some intergalactic choir that was going to save us all.’

‘The Chorus.’

‘Yeah. Some such bullshit. One day, Gary overheard Cherry telling us that she was also fucking Andrew and he came storming in, really angry. He hit Cherry and then grabbed a fucking shotgun and drove off.’

‘To get Andrew?’

‘Yeah. Except he couldn’t find him. He drove to Eastbourne to Andrew’s flat and he wasn’t there. I think he drove around for a while, looking for him, but with no luck. He came back here to find Cherry, to get her to tell him where Andrew had gone, but she’d pissed off as soon as Gary had left the house. She didn’t come back either. We assumed that she’d gone off with Andrew. That they’d run away together.’

I was confused. ‘When was this?’

She thought. ‘It must have been the start of last summer.’

‘What? But I thought Gary said he last saw her in October.’

‘Yeah, that’s right. She came back recently. She had a suitcase with her and she was in tears. We were all sitting round the pool out the back. Gary was in a bit of a mood. Then in walked Cherry, tears leaking out from behind her shades. Giving it the old boo-hoo. She walked straight into Gary’s arms, told us that Andrew had been killed in a car crash and that she was back to beg for forgiveness. Gary took her upstairs. To comfort her.’

‘And he did forgive her?’

‘Oh yes. He was blissful for weeks. He even asked her to marry him. But then a few weeks later she disappeared again, just after they got engaged.’ She shook her head. ‘Fuck knows what he sees in her. It’s not like he’s short of opportunities to get laid. But he calls her his muse, the stupid twat. He’ll do anything to find her. And he thinks that you might be able to lead him to her. He asked me to try and find out who hired you. What you were up to.’

‘And now you know.’

She retrieved her boots and slipped her feet back into them.

‘But maybe your girlfriend and Cherry are together. Have you got any pictures? You never know, I might recognise her.’

The only pictures I had, of course, were those of her with the fake alien. I had a photocopy in my pocket, which I unfolded and showed her.

‘Oh,’ she said immediately. ‘It’s Candy.’

‘What?’

‘Yeah, I know her. She’s a friend of Cherry’s.’

‘You said Candy?’

‘Yeah, that’s what Cherry called her. Cherry’s real name is
Charlotte
. Looks like your girlfriend has a pseudonym as well.’

I stared at the photographs, that familiar churning sensation returning, spinning in my stomach.

‘Where did you meet her?’ I whispered.

‘At a photo-shoot. We went down to Andrew’s flat – me and Cherry and Candy . . .’

‘Marie.’

‘Yeah, Marie . . . she was there, with Andrew.’

I swallowed. ‘What, having her picture taken?’

‘No, just hanging out, watching. I remember Cherry was ecstatic about seeing her. They kept hugging and giggling. It was quite irritating. At the end of the day, Cherry stayed behind with Andrew and Marie, and I came back on my own.’