Zip Gun Boogie (9 page)

‘How is Trash?' asked Tony.

‘Much better, I believe.'

‘Great. You know I'm yours at a moment's notice,' he said, and went back to his chair.

‘Bye now,' said Ninotchka.

Tony winked, and before we were out of the door had put the music back on and was lost in the intricacies of the mixing desk again.

The three of us went back to the car and Chas drove us to the hotel. When we arrived I asked Ninotchka to join me for a drink. She said she didn't want to go to the bar so we went to my room. She told Don to wait in her suite. He started to argue, but thought better of it and left.

‘At last,' said Ninotchka. ‘I thought we were never going to get a chance to be alone.'

I can't tell you how flattering hearing something like that from a woman like that can be. I knew I was doing exactly what Lomax said I would do, and I didn't give a damn. At least I'd refused the clothes.

Ninotchka took off her jacket and threw it across a chair, and sat on the sofa showing plenty of leg as she did. I asked her what she wanted to drink. ‘Can you do a Bloody Mary?' she said.

‘The best in London.' I went to the bar, took a large jug and poured in two measures of sherry, eight of vodka, added a handful of silver-skin onions, lemon juice, splashed in some Tabasco, lots of Worcestershire sauce, a shake of celery salt, a sprinkle of pepper, loads of ice, and topped it up nearly to the brim with Clamato juice from the fridge. I stirred the whole lot thoroughly and poured two tumblers full through a big strainer. I tasted mine. Perfect. I added some more ice cubes to each glass and took them over to where she was sitting. ‘Try that, and weep,' I said.

She took a sip and pulled a sour face. ‘Perfect.'

‘Not too much spice?'

She shook her head. ‘If it don't bite, it ain't right.'

‘Couldn't have put it better myself.'

‘You have hidden talents.'

‘Only when it comes to mixing drinks.'

‘I'm sure that's not true. And that's something I want to talk to you about.'

‘Really?'

‘Really,' she said, and patted the cushion on the sofa next to her. ‘Sit down.'

I did as I was told.

‘Got any cigarettes?'

I produced a packet of Silk Cut.

‘I said cigarettes,' she said. ‘Haven't you got any American?'

‘No. Do you want me to phone down?' I was getting used to this room service lark too.

‘No, don't bother. I'll have one of those. But I don't know how you guys can taste them.'

I felt like apologising for Messrs Benson & Hedges but lit her a cigarette instead. She pulled a face as she inhaled but smoked it anyway. I lit one for myself and pulled an ashtray close to the edge of the coffee table. ‘So what do you want to talk about?' I asked.

‘You,' said Ninotchka, and fixed me with an appealing look that I was beginning to recognise. ‘Do you enjoy what you do?'

I looked at her. I didn't, as a matter of fact, but I wasn't going to tell her. ‘It's what I do.'

‘Would you be interested in doing it specifically for me?'

‘That's what I seem to be doing right now.'

‘No, I mean
exclusively.
Come and work for me, Nick.'

‘Doing what?'

‘Whatever I want.' She sat back and sipped her drink.

‘You're the second person to ask me that in a year,' I said.

‘Who was the other?'

‘A girl I used to know. She was a model. She wanted to be a singer. Funny that.'

‘She must have seen the same things in you as I do.'

I shook my head. ‘No,' I said. ‘She thought what I do is too dangerous.'

‘Is it?'

‘It has its moments.'

‘And?'

‘And what?'

‘What did you say to her?'

‘I'm here now, aren't I?' I said. ‘I told her no. That's why she's someone I
used
to know.'

‘What's she doing now?'

I shrugged. ‘I don't know.'

‘Is there anyone else?'

‘No,' I said. ‘I cleared the decks. I'm all alone now.'

‘Are you happy about that?'

I shrugged again. ‘You get used to it.'

‘I don't. I hate it.'

I thought about all the newspaper stories I'd read about her and men. ‘I'm sure you don't have to be.'

As if she knew what I was thinking, she said, ‘I'm terribly lonely, Nick. I'm always reading about how I'm screwing some guy or other. Most of them I've never met, or just said hello to at some party or other. Jesus, if I'd had as many fucks as the papers say, my pussy would be worn down to the bone.' She laughed and stubbed out her cigarette.

I had to laugh too. I wouldn't have minded the job as it goes, but I knew I couldn't accept. I liked her too much for one thing, even though I was beginning to realise what a manipulative bitch she was. And for another I could still feel the kiss she'd given me in the back of the car.

‘So whaddya say, Nick?'

‘I've got a job,' I said. ‘Here, with you lot. I've already been paid. And I'm not doing it very well. Why would you want me to work for you?'

‘I like you.'

‘I like you too,' I said. ‘Why don't we just keep it like that? I'm a bad employee on a permanent basis. I don't relate well to authority. It's better if I just freelance. Less stress on everyone.'

‘It wouldn't be like that.'

‘That's what all prospective bosses say.'

‘I mean it.'

‘Listen, Ninotchka,' I said, ‘I think you're great. But that doesn't mean I want to belong to you. I'll be close until we find out what's happening here. I feel bad about taking money from the band and doing nothing in return.'

‘What we paid you is chump change,' she said spitefully. Rich people
always
do that.

‘See what I mean?' I said. ‘As soon as we start talking money, everything changes.'

‘I'm sorry, Nick,' she said. ‘I'm just being an asshole. I'm used to people doing what I want.'

‘I'm sure you are. But don't let's fall out.'

‘Dinner tonight?'

‘You're persistent.'

‘I'm trying.'

‘There's a million guys…'

‘Sure,' she interrupted. ‘But you're the one I want to have dinner with.'

‘Let me see Lomax first. I'd better make my peace.'

‘Call me in my suite?'

‘Course I will.'

‘Promise?'

‘Promise.'

‘Walk me down.'

‘It'll be a pleasure.'

We got up and somehow she was in my arms and we were kissing. Jesus, it was like having a butterfly in my mouth. Then she pulled away. ‘Sorry,' she said. ‘I shouldn't have done that. I'll see myself to my room.' And she ran out and slammed the door behind her.

10

I
found Lomax in the bar. Once again he was alone in the dark with an exotic cocktail in front of him. ‘Still with us, Sharman?' he asked.

‘I want to talk to you about that.'

‘Talk away.'

‘I've done a rotten job,' I admitted. ‘No job in fact.' I stood there in silence for a minute, feeling like a fool. ‘There's two reasons for that,' I said. ‘One is that I don't like what I do anymore. Snooping around. Ferreting. And then opening a can of worms that won't be closed until someone else gets hurt.'

‘Or you.'

‘Or me,' I agreed. Then I was silent again.

‘And the second reason?'

‘You get right up my nose, as it happens.'

I couldn't see the expression on his face in the dimness of the bar, and I could not have cared less what it was. He reached over and turned up the light and looked at me. Then he laughed.

‘You're honest, I'll say that for you.'

‘I try to be.'

‘So you want to quit?'

‘No. There's a couple of people I've met here I like, and I took on the job, and I took your cash and clothes. Now I'll do what I came to do if you still want me around. Otherwise a full refund can be arranged.'

‘No need,' he said. ‘Stick around.'

‘Thanks. I'm sorry I've wasted a day.'

‘Forget it. All's quiet.'

‘At the moment.'

‘Security's tight.'

‘You can say that again.'

‘Premiere's a good company.'

‘Yeah. The size of some of those guys! I don't know what they do to anyone with any funny ideas, but they sure scare the hell out of me.'

He laughed again. ‘Between you and me, me too. And I pay their wages.'

‘I was out of line leaving Don behind last night.'

‘No problem. Like I said, all's quiet. So what are you going to do first?'

‘The same as I said before. Talk to people.'

‘Stick around then. The afternoon shift should be in soon. I'm surprised they're not in here by now.'

As if to confirm this, the door to the bar opened and three big geezers came in. They were strangers to me.

‘More roadies,' said Lomax.

‘I recognise the type.'

‘Start with them,' he said. ‘But watch them. They can be a bit…' he hesitated, ‘… abrasive around strangers. Yes, abrasive is the word. They were the ones that were in Trash's suite that night.'

‘Is that so? Interesting. Yes, I'd like to talk to them.'

‘Fine, but just remember they can be very difficult if you rub them up the wrong way.'

‘I'll take the risk,' I said.

Lomax stood up and gestured the roadies over and they collected a beer each from the bar and came and joined us. They looked at me like I was an insect in the toilet bowl. ‘Nick Sharman,' Lomax introduced me.

One of the roadies, a bear of a man wearing a baseball cap with the peak over one ear, said: ‘We heard. Chippy told us.' He was American.

‘Seltza,' said Lomax. ‘Guitar roadie.'

I nodded at him.

‘Turdo, drums,' said Lomax, and indicated the man on Seltza's right. He was very big too, with long, greasy hair tied back behind his ears. He didn't even bother to nod.

‘Chick,' said Lomax and nodded at the last of the trio. This one was very tall with an acne-scarred face, denim shirt and jeans and thick red braces. His eyes flicked over at me and he drank some beer. Friendly guys, I thought.

‘Chick's the best rigger in the business,' said Lomax by way of explanation. I wondered what a rigger was, but didn't ask. ‘Nick wants to ask you some questions,' Lomax continued. ‘Tell him what he wants to know. He's on our side.'

I got the impression that the three other men at our table thought differently.

‘Well, guys, I've got to love you and leave you,' said Lomax. ‘Things to do, people to see.' He stood and Turdo moved to let him out. ‘Have fun,' he said to me.

I guessed this was his way of getting his revenge. After he'd gone there was silence. I looked at the members of the road crew. I said to Seltza, ‘You were up in Shapiro's suite on the night he got poisoned?'

He shrugged. ‘Sure.'

‘Did you notice anything?'

‘Like what?'

‘Anything strange.'

‘I was wasted, man. I didn't notice anything.'

‘Except Lindy's tits,' said the one they called Turdo. He was American too, with an accent that sounded like it had crawled out of the Everglades on the back of an alligator. Eventually I was going to have to ask him about that name.

Seltza flashed him an angry look.

‘Been on the road long?' I asked.

‘Yeah, man,' said Turdo. ‘Fucking forever.'

‘Good band to work for?'

‘They'll do 'til something better comes along.'

‘Did
you
see anything the other night?'

‘I wasn't around for long,' said Turdo. ‘I had to visit a friend.'

‘An errand of mercy,' said Seltza.

‘She was sick,' said Turdo.

‘And you rushed to her bedside,' said Seltza. ‘And ended up in it.'

‘She'd have to be sick to go to bed with that,' said Chick, speaking for the first time. He had a Scottish accent. All three laughed and slapped palms. Very macho. I was starting to lose interest, and I was the only one without a drink.

I looked at Chick. ‘You were there too, weren't you?'

‘Surely was.'

‘See anything?'

‘The same as him.' He indicated Seltza.

‘So none of you saw anything?' I persevered.

‘Looks like it.' Seltza again.

‘Thanks,' I said. ‘You've been a big help.'

‘Sarcastic guy,' said Chick.

I tried a different tack. ‘Did any of you know a bloke called Alan Gee? Algie. He was a road manager.'

Turdo snickered. ‘Road manager.' He mimicked my London accent. That went down well, I can tell you.

‘Mark McBain's personal?' said Chick.

I nodded.

‘Who the fuck are we talking about?' asked Turdo.

‘You remember him,' said Chick again. ‘Big mother-fucker. Used to work for
Queen.
He came to that fucking open-air gig we did in Houston. Where it rained.'

‘First day it rained in a fucking year,' said Turdo reminiscently. ‘And it had to be on us. I remember. What happened to him?'

‘He was killed by some nutty fucking Yank. Fucking Americans! Algie was a good guy. Outstanding,' said Chick.

‘I was with him,' I said.

‘When?' asked Chick.

‘When he died. He saved my life.'

‘That was you? Man, I read about that shit. It was all to do with McBain, yeah? I met him once. Crazy fucker, man. Always high. Christ, man, that was a shame.'

‘It was,' I said. ‘Algie was a friend.'

‘So?' asked Turdo.

Chick put up his hand to quieten him. ‘Algie was cool. Didn't take no bullshit. Why'd he do it? Why'd he die for you?'

I shrugged. ‘No idea,' I said. ‘I never got to know him as well as I would have liked. But you're right, he didn't take any bullshit. It wasn't the only time he helped me. Someone close died and he was there for me.'

‘A fucking lot of people round you die,' said Seltza.

I didn't answer that.

‘So what are you getting at?' asked Chick.

‘Nothing really,' I said. ‘I know you don't want me round here. Nor did Algie when I went and worked for McBain. But I am here. I'm a fact of life. Like piles. He got used to me. We ended up friends. He had a good attitude. I wondered if you lot knew him and were the same, or if you were just going to wank around and hope I took umbrage and left. Because I won't, I promise you that. Also I wanted you to know that I'm not here to interfere in your lives – unless you gave Shapiro the heroin that nearly killed him. Maybe we can sort this all out with minimum trauma. But if something else bad happens the police will be called in and they tend to frown on certain recreational habits.'

‘Like?' asked Seltza.

‘Drugs.'

‘The man's suggesting we take drugs,' said Chick. But his tone was noticeably lighter than previously.

‘I think we should see a lawyer, man,' said Turdo. ‘That's defamation of character.'

‘You ain't got no character to defame, man,' said Seltza and finished his beer. ‘Anyone for another?' he asked.

Both the other roadies lifted their glasses in assent. ‘Wanna beer?' he said to me.

‘Sure,' I said, and the ice was broken.