Romeo's Tune (1990) (19 page)

‘I ordered some lunch,’ said Antony. ‘Will you join us?’

‘Not for me thanks,’ I replied.

The waiter whipped off the cloth like someone from the magic circle. I caught sight of piles of roast beef, chicken legs, cheese and seafood. Although I hadn’t eaten since God knows when the smell disgusted me. But The Blackhand Gang dived in as if eating was being criminalized at midnight. I stuck to the bourbon. With the arrival of the food Antony became the perfect host. He flitted around like a butler trying to tempt me with tasty treats. I felt like a ghoul, but finally accepted a cup of black coffee to shut him up.

When the Italian/Americans had destroyed the buffet they settled back to business. Antony and Ferrara dipped into a box of cigars the size of ground-to-air missiles. Through a pungent fog that swirled around us before being sucked into the ceiling vents, Antony began to speak again.

‘I have spoken to the undertaker who will take care of the body of my sister after the authorities have finished with it.’ His mouth was twisted in disgust at the thought. ‘She will be shipped to our family burial plot in New Jersey. She will be incarcerated when I return to the States. Now, Mister Sharman, I want to know who was responsible for this outrage.’ His demeanour changed. He removed his dark glasses. His eyes were red-rimmed, but the pupils flashed with anger. ‘Do you have any enemies?’ he asked.

‘More than I could easily shake a stick at. I’ve had rather a colourful past.’

‘I’ll make it simple for you. Do you know who killed my sister?’

‘I think so.’

‘The name.’

‘First of all,’ I said, ‘let me tell you about some possibles.’ He leant forward and Ferrara took notes in a small leather-bound notebook.

I told them briefly about the trouble I’d had the previous summer with George Bright and the Arab and John Reid the rogue policeman and their convoluted drug and pornography business. I touched on the documents and photographs I’d found that were now safely hidden where no one would ever find them except for Danny Fox and me. I named some names that perhaps I shouldn’t have, but I was past caring. I dredged up names from the past that I had long forgotten. Antony and Ferrara glanced at each other from time to time but didn’t interrupt.

When I’d finished the tale Antony said, ‘We knew something of this, but thank you for being so frank. You say that these are possibles and we will have them checked out. Now the name of the probable.’

‘Names, actually,’ I explained. ‘Charlie Diva and his son Steven, in collusion with a person or persons unknown. I don’t actually see them placing a bomb themselves.’

‘What leads you to this conclusion?’

‘I’m involved in an investigation at the moment; well, not an investigation as such, an enquiry into the whereabouts of rather a large sum of money. It dates back nearly twenty years.’

I outlined the facts regarding Mark McBain and Mogul Inc. Ferrara took more notes in his cute little book. I finished by telling them how the Divas had rolled over after my visit and how I hadn’t believed it could be that easy.

‘Is there any proof?’ Antony demanded.

‘None yet,’ I replied.

‘Make a report on all these people, especially the Divas,’ Antony ordered. Ferrara nearly tripped over his feet heading for the door.

‘So what happens now?’ I enquired.

‘We find out who murdered my sister and we kill them,’ replied Antony coldly.

‘And then?’

He looked at me with his icy eyes, then stood and walked through the inner door of the suite. Frederick and I waited in silence. Antony returned almost immediately. In his hand was a slim packet of envelopes held together by a scarlet ribbon. He placed the letters carefully on the table in front of me. I recognised the colour of the paper and Jo’s handwriting. The top envelope was addressed to her father.

‘For good or evil she loved you,’ said Antony. ‘When her murderers are dead, I think we all go home.’

32

‘J
ust like that huh?’ I asked. ‘I roll over, kill a few faces, get my tummy tickled and we all go home? You to bury Jo, and me to what? Keep one step in front of the Old Bill for the rest of my life? No thanks, pal. I’ll pass on this one if you don’t mind.’

‘Sharman, I reprieved you,’ said Antony, as if surprised by my reaction.

‘Reprieved,’
I said. ‘You’re not the fucking beak. You’re not judge, jury and executioner. Don’t you understand that’s what killed your sister? People like you thinking you’re the law.’

Frederick was looking daggers at me but I was too cocaine-anxious and jittery to pay any attention to his problems.

‘You will do as I say,’ said Antony, ‘or you’ll be sorry.’

‘Let me show him,’ begged Frederick.

‘Not yet,’ said Antony. ‘Mister Sharman is no fool. He will soon see he has no choice.’

I shook my head. ‘I’ll do it in my way, in my time,’ I said.

‘Mister Antony,’ pleaded Frederick.

‘Can’t you shut that prick up?’ I demanded. ‘He’s about as interesting as dental floss.’

Frederick was beginning to twitch again. He stood about ten yards from where I was sitting, on the other side of the massive sitting-room of the suite. He made a step towards me but Antony waved him back.

‘Wait, Frederick,’ he said. Then, to me: ‘Sharman, be sensible. It would give Frederick great pleasure to kill you, here and now.’

‘Who, him?’ I asked. ‘He’s nothing, I’ve seen sixteen year-old steamers with a better chance.’ I don’t expect Frederick knew what a steamer was, but he knew it was nothing good. He dropped into a fighting crouch and came at me.

I rolled out of my seat, picked up a weighty glass ashtray from the table in front of me and flicked it left-handed like a heavy frisbee at Frederick. It caught him high on the right temple. He ploughed into the carpet but kept coming. Antony was frozen in surprise. I scooped the pistol off the coffee table where it had lain during lunch and covered the pair of them.

‘Stay,’ I shouted to Frederick. He slid to a halt on his hands and knees and looked up at me in a bewildered way. There was a crescent-shaped cut on his forehead that was already puffing and turning blue around the edges. Blood was seeping down to his eyebrow.

‘And you,’ I said to Antony. ‘I really didn’t want this to happen, but you forced the issue.’

‘Put it down, Sharman,’ said Ferrara behind me, and I heard the click of a pistol being cocked. ‘Put it down,’ he repeated. He was smart, no jamming the gun into my back like an amateur. He kept his distance. I placed the automatic gently back onto the table amidst the dirty plates. I did it very carefully as if it was made of eggshell.

Ferrara moved round so I could see the gun, as if I needed convincing. It was a nice chubby .38 with almost no barrel at all.

Frederick pulled himself to his feet and made straight for me.

‘No,’ said Antony. ‘Stay where you are Frederick, or I promise you’ll be sorry.’

Frederick reacted as if he’d been slapped. The blood drained from his face and he stood almost to attention. Obviously he’d seen Antony make someone sorry before.

‘Never,’ Antony went on, ‘never do that again Frederick. We’re all distraught, but that’s no excuse. You are a soldier and you should exercise discipline. If you cannot control yourself you are of no use to me.’

Frederick didn’t reply. He stood perfectly still and took the rebuke, although I saw sweat break out on his top lip. Antony kept out of Ferrara’s line of fire and rescued the automatic.

‘Bad move,’ I remarked. ‘Amateurs forget about the hardware.’

‘And amateurs leave their backs uncovered,’ said Ferrara.

Touché,
you old bastard, I thought. ‘I’ve been awake too long,’ I said. ‘I’m getting sloppy.’

Ferrara holstered his pistol. Antony told me to sit down again and Frederick to get lost. We both did as we were told. Ferrara loaded the room-service trolley and pushed it into the corridor. Antony obviously didn’t want anyone earwigging our little chat.

Ferrara prepared some more drinks and when we were all seated comfortably Antony spoke again.

‘Now you see why I can use you, Sharman.’ He gestured with his head towards the door that Frederick had used to leave the room. ‘Damn kids, no good to anyone. He gets upset and he’s out of the game.’

‘Maybe that’s the best place to be.’

‘How so?’

‘The game, as you call it,’ I said, ‘could get pretty dangerous, and bloody.’

‘You didn’t strike me as a coward. Mister Sharman,’ said Antony.

‘Cowardice is not the issue,’ I replied. ‘You’re crazy if you think you can just come into London and shoot the fuck out of it and then catch the first Concorde back to JFK.’

‘London is no different from anywhere else.’

‘You want to bet?’ I asked in exasperation. ‘You’d know,’ said Ferrara. ‘That’s why we want you. Aren’t you interested in justice?’

‘Of course,’ I said.

‘What’s justice in this goddam country? Fifteen years in the slammer, out in ten. Is that what you want for the men who killed Josephina?’

‘No.’

‘Then help us get the bastards and give them a taste of Italian justice.’

He pulled two fingers lovingly along the line of his jawbone and smiled an evil smile.

I felt the rush of vengeance, like the rush from a line of cocaine and enjoyed the feeling. ‘What about Frederick if I join you?’ I asked. ‘I can’t walk around the whole time covering my back.’

‘You might get sloppy again,’ grinned Ferrara.

‘I might at that,’ I said.

‘He’ll do as he’s told,’ said Antony. ‘Take my word for it. He’s not usually so headstrong.’

Ferrara nodded in agreement.

‘OK,’ I said. ‘You’re on.’ And that was that.

We didn’t bother to talk much more that day. They were as fucked up in the head in their own way as I was in mine. Antony told me they’d be making their enquiries and be in touch as soon as anything came up. I declined the offer of a ride home in the kamikaze Volvo, and Antony saw me down to the foyer. Before we parted he said, ‘You took a chance with Frederick, he might have killed you.’

‘He was too angry to win,’ I replied.

‘But you had no weapon and only one hand to fight with.’

‘I managed.’

‘But you might have missed and then he would have hurt you badly.’

‘There is that, of course.’

‘Or you could have killed him with that ashtray.’

I forced a grin and said, ‘But I knew when we met that only one of us was going to come out of this alive.’ And I left him standing in the midst of all that warm affluence and walked out into the cold afternoon.

I wandered through the park and down Sloane Street to the King’s Road. There were people there having a good time who’d never touched a gun. I envied them and caught the end of a film full of fake bullets and fake blood. It made me sick and I left before the credits.

That night I hit the pubs so hard I don’t think they’ve recovered yet.

33

I
must have got home at some time and stripped the bed of all traces of the whores who’d slept with me the previous night, because I woke the next morning fully dressed on a bare mattress.

The milk was off and the inside of the ‘fridge smelled like a week-old corpse, so I changed into something clean and split for the office. I decided that I’d finally have to do something about the mess.

Teresa called about ten-thirty. It was good to speak to someone I knew. Not that the conversation began particularly pleasantly. There were no greetings, no big hellos.

‘What the hell are you up to now?’ was how she started. I was supposed to recognise her voice straight off, and of course I did. I’d know her anywhere.

‘Are you all right?’ she continued. I assured her that I was. ‘I read about it in the papers. I’ve been trying to call you for two days. Where have you been?’

I told her that the phone had been out, and so had I. But I didn’t tell her where I’d been.

‘What happened, Nick? Was it meant for you?’

I told her as much as I knew, as much as I wanted her to know. ‘So it’s all starting again,’ she said.

I tried to explain, to no avail.

‘Who was she?’ Teresa asked. Her tone stung a reaction.

‘It’s none of your fucking business,’ I replied, rather louder than I should have.

All at once she softened. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, ‘I was just so worried.’

‘A bit late isn’t it?’ I asked. Somehow the exchange wasn’t going as it should have gone.

‘Don’t say that, Nick,’ she whispered. ‘You know my reasons.’

‘So what’s different?’ I demanded. I sounded petulant and I knew it.

‘Nothing, not a damn thing, unless you count an old friend nearly being blown sky-high as nothing.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It was good of you to take time to call.’

‘“Take time”? Nick it’s me you’re talking to, so cut all that nonsense out right now.’

‘Yes ma’am,’ I said and, do you know, I almost felt good for a moment; but that’s what friends are for.

‘I thought you’d be happily married by now,’ I said.

‘No chance. I haven’t even had a fuck since I arrived.’

‘Giving that old working pussy a rest.’

‘Yep. I think I might have healed up down there.’

‘Teresa,’ I said, ‘I’ve gotta tell you, that’s a hell of a thought.’

‘It brings tears to my eyes too,’ she said.

‘So no bouncing brown babies?’

‘No.’

‘No handsome studs loitering around the restaurant with their tongues hanging out?’

‘Honey,’ she purred, ‘there’s no handsome studs loitering about with anything hanging out. Well there are a few but I think they’re after Sally.’

‘I don’t believe that either,’ I said.

There was a pause and then she said, ‘Listen, Nick, why don’t you come and visit?’

‘Now
I believe you,’ I said. ‘You really
haven’t
had a fuck for months.’

‘Not for that, lickle boy,’ she said. ‘Don’t get me wrong. Come as a friend, no strings, no big deal. I realise what you must be going through. You can drop out of sight down here for a while.’

‘Still looking after my best interests, huh?’ I asked.

‘Sure, why not? I know how you feel.’

‘Do you?’ I asked.

‘Sure – you haven’t got a patent on feelings.’

‘You should phone more often, Tess, you always make me feel better.’

‘Did you love her?’ she asked all of a sudden.

‘I think so. No, I know so. It’s just that I didn’t have too much time to find out.’

‘Well, the offer’s open.’ She sounded deliberately off-hand. I was beginning to realise what an effort she’d made even to telephone, and I hadn’t made it any easier for her.

‘I don’t know if I’d be welcome,’ I said, trying to lighten the mood. ‘I’d be frightened to park my car down there.’

‘It’s not as bad as it’s painted. Come and see. There’s just Terry and Sally and me and the kids. And the food’s excellent. I’ll vouch for that.’

‘It sounds like a sit-com on TV.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘Perhaps Terry might have other ideas.’

‘Any friend of mine is a friend of Terry’s. You could lose yourself for a couple of weeks.’

‘I’d like to lose myself for a couple of lifetimes. You make it sound very tempting Tess, but there’s a few things I’ve got to take care of up here. So maybe soon.’

‘Oh Christ, Nick, be careful.’

‘I will,’ I promised, and that’s how we left it.