Times of Trouble (27 page)

With a new found
determination, I turned back to the Skype page and typed in Allen’s
number. I hoped to make it up as I went along, since I had already
managed to do so with Lily. The phone rang for so long I felt sure
I was about to hear a message bank click in. But then a muffled
voice came on the line. It was crackly and distant, but it was
him.

‘
Allen Berkley
speaking’.

He had a BBC English
accent, slightly pompous and snobby. But he didn’t sound scary or
mean. What had I expected? A threatening voice?

‘
Hi Allen, this is...
Margaret speaking... I’m calling about the radio interview I set up
with your agent.’

What was I doing? I
wasn’t doing a radio interview, I was confronting a
suspect!

‘
Yes, I spoke to
Lily. I was just heading home so I could be somewhere quiet when
you called, but I’m still driving. Can you hear me ok?’

He must have been
wondering why I wasn’t saying anything. I gulped, preparing myself
for the sudden turn I was about to give to the
conversation.

‘
Look, Allen, this
isn’t really Margaret from Coast FM. I’m ringing to find out what
you know about some crimes that have occurred in London and Sydney.
I want to know how you have been involved.’

Would this be the
point a guilty person would show anger? Or would they go into cover
up mode, and try to divert me from the truth? Or simply hang
up?

‘
Who is this?’ he
asked.

There was a small
amount of anger, but also a bit of fear. That was odd.

‘
I won’t tell you who
I am, but I will tell you I am a good friend of Molly’s. And I’m
trying to make sure you aren’t the reason she is in
danger.’

‘
Molly? Do you mean
Sophie? Who is this?’

How did he know
Sophie’s real name? I was speechless while I tried to work out
whether to tell him who I was.

‘
I told you, I’m a
friend of Sophie’s... I mean Molly... I mean...’ Shit. I was
stuffing this up.

‘
This isn’t Ellen is
it? You’ve got the same Aussie accent Sophie once
had...’

He sounded suddenly
relaxed, the fear completely erased from his voice. How the hell
did he work out who I was? My pause in responding gave him the
confidence to keep talking.

‘
Ellen, I know
Sophie. She’s a close friend of mine. How did you find me? Is
Sophie ok? I haven’t heard from her in weeks.’

He sounded genuinely
concerned, and I suddenly realised it was possible he wasn’t a
client of Sophie’s, but was really a friend.

‘
Your name was coded
in a notebook of Sophie’s, with a sum of money next to it. I
thought you might have been blackmailed by her... and be trying to
get revenge.’

‘
Why would she be
blackmailing me? I lent her money as a friend. She needed it to get
herself and another girl out of London. They had to buy new
passports, and flights. She promised to repay me, but I don’t care.
I just want to know she’s safe. Is she ok? And what do you mean
about crimes?’

He had me convinced.
This made sense. There was no reason why the notebook only listed
blackmail victims. Maybe Sophie wanted to pay everyone back, and
Allen was just another debt record. The phone line suddenly went
fuzzy, and Allen’s voice started cutting in and out. I could just
hear him enough to understand he was asking me to call him back in
fifteen minutes, when he would be home. Then the phone dropped
out.

I sat in silence,
watching the clock on the computer click over, wanting to hear more
about what Allen had to say. He knew who I was now. Was this a
mistake? I needed proof he was a friend of Sophie’s. I was
impressed he remembered she had a sister called Ellen. Sophie
wouldn’t have told that to someone she didn’t trust. What could I
ask to make sure he was what he said he was? 11 minutes had ticked
past, which felt like an eternity. Not able to wait any longer, I
redialled him on the Skype screen. Allen picked up immediately, and
although the line wasn’t very clear, I could hear he was no longer
in his car.

‘
Is that you Ellen?’
he asked, sounding more confident than when I spoke to him
before.

‘
Yes, it’s me. Look,
I’m sorry to be so suspicious, but can I ask you a couple of
questions to prove you are a friend of Sophie’s, and not one of the
people who are after her?’

‘
I totally
understand. You are right to be suspicious. Sophie had dealings
with some very dodgy people.’

That was an
understatement.

‘
So, Sophie told you
my name. Did she ever tell you her parents’ names?’

‘
I can’t remember
your dad’s name. I know he left your mum when you guys were
teenagers. I think I remember your mum’s name is Sandy, or Sandra?
My memory’s not great.’

‘
Her name is Sandra.
What is Sophie’s favourite band?’

‘
That’s an easy one.
The Beatles. I can’t hear their music without thinking of
her.’

‘
Ok, I believe you
now. How did you know Sophie?’

This guy was genuine.
He explained he was Sophie’s boyfriend, back when she first arrived
in London. They had met at an audition, and had become inseparable,
falling in love and moving in together. Allen started to get good
parts in well known plays. But Sophie struggled to get anything
more than extra parts. After a few months, without even a speaking
role to her name, she took a job at The Backstage cafe in Soho to
make ends meet. After a few more months, Allen realised it wasn’t
the only job she had; she had started working for Carla. When he
confronted her about it, she was devastated he had found out, and
they had a huge fight. He tried to tell her she didn’t have to do
that for a living, and he would look after her. But he wasn’t
making much money as an actor either, and Sophie was convinced she
would get better roles herself soon, and wouldn’t have to work as a
prostitute for long. But she kept doing it, and Allen couldn’t
cope. So they broke up.

Sophie went to
Carla’s as a live-in worker, and eventually started dating Danny.
But Allen and Sophie stayed in contact, behind Danny’s back. Allen
always worried about Sophie, and still really cared about her. But
she had moved on, and only contacted him infrequently, usually when
she was upset about something. He would come and find her, and take
her out for a meal, making her feel like life was back to normal
for a short while. It made me so sad to think of Sophie throwing
away her relationship with Allen to become a prostitute. Allen had
gone on to make a real acting career, something Sophie must have
been so jealous of. He said even after all this time he still
hadn’t had a relationship like he had with Sophie. She sure had a
knack of breaking hearts.

Allen hadn’t heard
from Sophie for over a year when she called out of the blue three
months ago, wanting to meet up. He was surprised to hear she needed
money, as last time they spoke she said she earning loads of cash.
But this time she seemed frightened, and said she had to disappear.
She had told him ‘something bad’ had happened to Danny. Allen
hadn’t got many details out of her. But he could tell ‘something
bad’ sounded like either ‘hurt’ or ‘killed’, and Sophie was in
danger of the same. He had already finished filming ‘I Will Be
Golden’, and had enough money to help her out. So he handed it
over, and then soon after, moved to LA, hoping every day to hear
from Sophie that she was safe. I felt bad for Allen, both because
he obviously still cared about Sophie and because she had taken his
money.

‘
I’m sorry Allen, it
seems like you’ve done your best to help Sophie. I’m so worried
about her. Can you think of anything else that might help me find
her? Or the people who are after her? Did she give you any clues as
to who was out to get her?’

Allen thought about
it for a while; he seemed desperate to give me something of use.
But he couldn’t come up with anything.

‘
Don’t you be sorry
Ellen. I’m so relieved to hear Sophie’s ok. The only thing I can
think of that she said about the trouble she was in was that it had
something to do with a scam that Danny organised. I never liked
Danny. He should never have encouraged Sophie in that career. When
I pushed her on what the scam was, she admitted the blackmail
stuff. But she didn’t tell me anything about who was
involved.’

‘
I know the name of
one of the people she blackmailed. He’s gone to the police. A
politician called Matthew Harrison-Brown. But I don’t think he’s
behind the murders.’

‘
Really?
Harrison-Brown was one of them? God, who would have
thought?’

I wondered if Allen
was picturing Sophie, his old girlfriend, with that horrible twerp
Harrison-Brown.

‘
There was another
name in Sophie’s notebook too, but I’ve had trouble decoding
it.’

‘
What have you come
up with?’

‘
W.S Holland is the
only thing I’ve been able to make sense of. But I can’t work out
who W.S Holland might be. I don’t have an actual first name so I
have no idea where to start looking for him.’

‘
Oh? Bill Holland.
His real name is William.’

‘
Who is he?’ My voice
leapt with hope.

‘
He owns nightclubs.
But there’s rumours that his clubs are just a front for other
things, like a very profitable drugs trade. I know Sophie’s worked
for him before. She mentioned to me ages ago that she always drinks
in his bars for free.’

This was a very good
lead. It had to be him. But would a drug lord be worried about
blackmail for prostitution? Maybe Sophie knew more about him than
she should have. Interesting, but scary too.

‘
I think we’re onto
something. Thanks so much Allen. You have no idea how much you’ve
helped me. Sorry again for accusing you.’

‘
Don’t be silly. I’m
so glad you are onto the case. Please keep me updated. I would
really like to hear that you find her.’

‘
Will do. Thanks
again. And good luck with the movie.’

Another step forward.
Not quite what I expected, but it was good news.

Chapter 24

I was staring at my
search for ‘Bill Holland London Nightclubs’ when I heard the front
door open. My body went tense, momentarily alarmed at who might be
walking in. But then I remembered that the door had been locked,
and it had to be my uncle coming home.

‘
Hi, I hoped you’d be
here. I left work early. Not much going on, so thought I’d come
home and see what you were up to.’

Andy sat down across
from me at the table, carefully diverting his eyes from the laptop
screen so as not to pry. But I could sense the curiosity in him.
Even though he looked nothing like dad, he was still obviously
related to him, slumping himself down into the chair as if he never
planned to get up again, just like dad used to. And the way he held
his chin in his hand; it was exactly how dad looked when he was
thinking.

With feigned interest
and a smile, I asked: ‘How was your day?’

‘
Pretty boring. I’m
working on some new software for wireless internet connections for
mobile phones. It’s going nowhere fast.’

That’s right, he was
a computer geek. He looked younger than most 50 year olds. I guess
he lived the bachelor life of a 25 year old. There was a long,
uncomfortable pause in the conversation as I sat impatiently,
trying not to glance at the laptop, and he sat ready to say
something, but still searching for the right words.

Eventually he said,
‘Your mum called me today.’

‘
Oh?’

‘
She told me about
what’s going on with Sophie. You’re welcome to keep staying here...
and Liam. But is there anything else I can do to help?’

‘
Look, I’m not sure
what mum told you about the people who are after Sophie, but they
are really dangerous. They’ve worked out what I’m doing, and
they’re looking for me too. I really appreciate the offer, but I’d
prefer not to put you in any danger. I really can’t tell you any
more, but I have been to the police.’

He sighed, leaning
back in his chair.

‘
Well if the police
know, that’s something, but I don’t want you doing anything
dangerous. And if you change your mind about needing help, I’m
here, ok? I’ll leave you to it.’

He seemed slightly
put out as he pulled himself off his chair and left the room. I
felt like I was kicking him out of his own house, but there wasn’t
time to worry about his feelings.

From the list of
references for Bill Holland there was one site that looked
promising. The reference was to him as the owner of ‘Cosmo’, a ‘hip
new London night spot’. The club’s website gave a contact number. I
felt brave after my success with finding Allen. Yes, I could do it
again. Bill Holland could be friend or foe, but either way I was
going to find out what he had to do with Sophie.

I logged back onto
Liam’s Skype account, with the credit reduced to $7.80. I checked
the time in London; 2:40 am. Would someone answer the phone in a
nightclub at that hour? I typed the number in and waited. A woman
with a strong London accent answered after three rings. There was
noise in the background, but it wasn’t so loud that I couldn’t hear
her; she must have been in a separate room from the main nightclub
area.