Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
ALEX
The insistent pounding jerked me from sleep, fragments of the previous night’s encounter with Kit still clinging, like cobwebs, to my consciousness. Something about that conversation, about him, had burrowed under my skin, leaving an itch I couldn’t scratch.
“All right, all right. Keep your bloody hair on.” I crawled out of bed and stumbled to the front door of my flat. Wrenching it open, Kelvin’s broad frame filled the doorway, mobile in hand.
“Didn’t we agree eleven o’clock? Was about to phone you. Do you know how long I’ve been standing out here?” He slipped past me, the familiar scent of his cologne trailing behind him.
“The security guy is supposed to be there to keep undesirables out, not let them in,” I grumbled.
“You think he’s got the balls to leave me waiting in reception?
Though that potted plant does look lovely sitting next to a pile of the latest edition of Hampstead Life.
Anyway, the occasional crisp tenner slipped over the counter ensures an easy, smooth entrance.
” Kelvin prowled to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Hampstead Heath, his reflection ghostly in the glass.
“Speaking of smooth entrances…” He turned, eyes glinting.
“How’d you get on with your blond fantasy last night? ”
My shoulders stiffened. “What?”
“That guy we saw on the monitor, the one who needed to wear a blond wig to fulfil all your deepest, dirtiest desires.”
“Nothing. I never went near him.” But Kelvin would already have known that, because he’d have been looking at the monitors. I still wasn’t awake enough to play games. “I had a drink with one of the punters. He was a friend of the guy we chucked out.” Still half asleep, I’d already said too much.
Kelvin’s eyebrows arched towards his hairline. “A drink? Is that a new euphemism for—”
“No, it’s not. One drink, then he went home.”
“You let him go home, without…? That’s a new one.”
“Which you would know about, because you’d have been watching the monitors.”
“I don’t track your every movement, Alex.”
Don’t you? I wasn’t always sure where Kelvin’s protectiveness ended and his control began, all I knew was that it had been hardwired in him from the day we’d met.
I made my way to the kitchen and got the coffee on; I needed to wake up and fast. Kelvin followed me and sat down at the sleek granite island.
“What happened last night is a reminder we need to tighten up on security,” I said, changing the subject, veering him away from Kit.
“Not just in Euphoria but in all the venues. And, make sure stuff isn’t getting in.
Security have been confiscating more than they should have been lately.
The punters want to play, they do it with our toys and for a price. ”
Stuff meaning drugs. Neither Kelvin nor I were naive enough to believe we could catch every pill or powder on every clubber who came through the doors, but we had trusted sources and good relations with our supplier, and we needed to keep it that way.
Kelvin nodded. “It would have been easy for that to have got out of hand last night. Even a drunken punch up is bad for business.” He pushed his fingers through his thick, dark hair.
Deep lines bit into his forehead. “Security needs a rocket up its arse. I know you’ve spoken to Ewan but we need to underline our concern.
If he doesn’t get his guys to sharpen up, I’ll do it for him.
” He mimed a cutting motion across his throat, then laughed.
“I do love our little performance reviews.”
“Kel—” I’d seen what happened when Kelvin got people to sharpen up.
“Fucking liberty,” he muttered, taking the coffee I poured for him. “It’s like taking your own pint into a pub. We make sure the law turns a blind eye but violence, even minor, has a way of growing legs and with the recent murder…”
We met each other’s eye. A violent murder in a gay club had hit the headlines just months before.
A teenage boy. Wrong club, wrong night, wrong rejection.
Toilets painted red. Parents crying on the evening news.
Not one of our venues, thank Christ, but the ripples had travelled far and wide.
The night time sector was edgy, the Home Secretary and the Mayor had been posturing for the TV cameras, and the moral crusaders had been demanding a crackdown to protect the young and innocent.
But, amidst all the hot air and political points scoring, the message had been clear: make sure the ship was watertight.
Kelvin and I had already had that off-the-record conversation with our contacts.
“I’ve spoken to Mateo,” Kelvin said, switching subjects. “Our very imaginative head of corporate entertainment has come up with a possible schedule for some more special events at the house. Themed, to appeal to certain tastes.”
I snorted. We’d given Mateo, one of our most trusted and long standing employees, the joke job title.
Imaginative didn’t even begin to describe the man’s twisted creativity for events at the large, sprawling house Kelvin and I owned in affluent, leafy Hertfordshire, just north of London.
Secluded and with tight security to deter any would-be interest in the line of expensive cars that drew up twice a month, it was the perfect venue for our very private parties.
“They’re easy money and very profitable,” Kelvin said, “and the boys are always up for a boost in their income. Very handy with Christmas on the horizon. They can buy something extra nice for their old mums.”
I nodded. The parties had taken off in a big way.
Discreet enquiries about invites were carefully screened, with more rejected than accepted.
We’d deliberately created an air of exclusivity, which meant we could charge top dollar.
The invitees were all rich, powerful men, some even household names, and were more than willing to pay our price.
“Participation is on a strictly voluntary basis.” I didn’t need to say it as much as I did. The boys we employed, there could never be any hint of coercion. It was the reason I wouldn’t and couldn’t get involved with the likes of Mehmet Aksoy. Kelvin, more than anybody, should know why that was.
“Babe, the boys won’t be in any danger. I won’t let that happen.”
He slipped off the stool and came round behind me.
For a bulky man, he could move with the silence and stealth of a cat stalking a bird.
Of course he wouldn’t let that happen, because injuries were bad for business, just like fights in the clubs were.
No, that wasn’t fair. Kelvin was as hard as nails, and god knows that was needed to survive in the world we inhabited, but he’d always treated the boys well, had looked after them, and made sure they got what they needed.
Just as he’d done for me, all those years before.
Warm hands planted themselves on my shoulders, the massage light but making a point, and I let my head fall forward.
“I made a promise. I made a promise to you, Alex. That the boys would always be safe with us. I’m not going back on that.”
I swung around, dislodging Kelvin’s hands. “Then why do you want to do business with Aksoy? People trafficking, for god’s sake. Those poor bastards are little better than slaves.”
“They wouldn’t be, not if they worked for us. They’d be treated the same as the others.”
“Would they? Really? Undocumented illegals who’d do anything not to be found out and shipped back to whatever shit hole they’d come from? Don’t take me for a fool, Kel.”
“And don’t call me a liar. We run a business. A very profitable one. One you profit from. Don’t ever forget that. But if we stand still, we’ll get overtaken. Working with Aksoy would mean a steady supply—”
“A steady supply of frightened, broken men, their involvement in the business not through choice because they’d have no choice.
Sounds a lot like coercion to me. We do well because we stick to what we know.
We don’t step on anybody else’s toes. Our interests are protected but that’d be harder if we got involved in a racket like the one Aksoy runs. ”
“It’d be good business sense to have a relationship with him.”
“Would it? Because it’d be the end of ours if you try and force us down that route. I mean it, Kel. I’m serious, because that shit is a hard line for me.” My chest tightened and constricted as I kept my gaze fixed on Kelvin.
“You wouldn’t turn your back on me, on us. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
Everything we’d gone through… I felt the shake rise in me, but I swallowed it down. We’d been to hell and back, and the only reason I was still standing, was a survivor, was because of the man just inches away.
My phone rang, slicing through the tension of a past that threatened to burst through to the present. I grabbed it, anything to turn away from the darkness in Kelvin’s eyes. The concierge. A delivery. Thank fuck for Prime.
I ducked out of the flat, needing a few moments away from Kelvin, and collected whatever it was I couldn’t remember ordering.
“I’ll ask Mateo to work up some details and costings, what specialist equipment we might need. You okay with that?” Kelvin asked when I returned.
The air between us was still thick with tension, but getting back to normal business, if what Kelvin and I did could in any way be considered normal, was the shift we needed. I nodded
“Yes. Usual conditions, for the boys who volunteer.”
“Time and a half and an extra-long tea break? With the good biscuits?” Kelvin’s lips twisted in an ill-disguised smile.
I huffed, but Kelvin’s quip was enough to get us back on track.
“You want more—” But it was as far as I got.
There was a bleep as a message dropped, not to the top-of-the-range smartphones Kelvin and I both had, but to another, used to make and receive calls and messages to and from a strictly limited set of numbers.
I met Kelvin’s eye as he dug it out of his pocket and read.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered.
“What is it?”
“Timmins. Some of the plods at his nick have been caught taking bribes from a strip club. The Assistant Chief Commissioner’s using it as an excuse to investigate the whole team.” Kelvin’s laugh was sour. “And there’s more. What a bastard.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant the crusading ACC or our tame Detective Sergeant, who earned a very nice top-up to his salary in return for making sure our venues stayed out of the spotlight. Kelvin handed the phone across, and I read the message. Fucking hell, indeed.
Kelvin took the phone back and punched in a speed dial number, his brows pulled down tight and his eyes darker than ever. I leant forward over the island, my body held tense, not envying the red-faced, overweight copper who was about to get it with both barrels.
“Detective Sergeant Timmins, are you attempting to extort more money from us?”
I shifted in my seat. My heart rate was picking up, and my mouth was dry. Kelvin’s voice was even, calm, and pitched low. It was the man at his most dangerous.
“Your job, Detective Sergeant, is to deflect any attention away from our business. It’s an…
” Kelvin paused, his eyes narrowing as he looked across at me, “arrangement which has benefited us all. If your little gang of plods weren’t smart enough not to get caught out, that’s not our problem.
You carry on as you were, making sure none of this shit gets thrown our way. ”
Timmins’s raised voice floated across, enough for me to hear the policeman’s agitation.
“Shut your mouth and listen.” Kelvin’s voice was cold enough to freeze the sun, all the lethal calm of moments before gone.
The gloves were off, and Kelvin always hit hard.
“If any of this comes back on us, your miserable life won’t be worth living.
I will make it my personal mission to ensure that, and you know I always keep my promises. ”
I sat forward, the edge of the island digging into my stomach. What the hell was Kelvin on about? From the indignant and panicked squawks coming from the phone, Timmins didn’t know either. Kelvin smiled and winked at me.
“Social media. It’s incredible, the way you can reach millions with the click of a button.
Doesn’t matter if it’s fake news, the damage is done.
People are truly appalling creatures, they always want to believe the worst. And there’s no smoke without fire.
There’s AI, too. The images you can conjure up with that, it’s hard to know what’s real and what isn’t.
And don’t forget Mrs. Timmins. Got a heart condition, hasn’t she?
Wouldn’t take long to finish off the poor old thing.
Imagine her falling into the shag pile, before her first cuppa of the day, getting ready to meet Mr. Death.
Errghh!” Kelvin gasped into the phone, clutching his chest with his free hand as he imitated a heart attack, a big grin on his face.
Hard, nervous laughter burst from me. In the blackest, most dangerous times we’d been through together, Kelvin’s dark, sadistic humour had never failed to make me laugh and pull me back from the edge.
“So you just need to carry on, and everything will stay sweet.” My laughter withered on my lips.
Kelvin’s voice had dropped, back to calm and ice cold.
“Just as long as nothing points to us. We don’t want any interest shown in our business.
And I mean any. But I’ll tell you what,” Kelvin said, his tone shifting again, taking on an almost sing-song quality.
“There’ll be a bonus for you this month.
In recognition of your efforts during this particularly difficult time.
Think of it as an advance on performance-related pay. ”
Kelvin disconnected the call and grinned across at me.
“Fake news and AI?” I asked.
“Yep. The tech’s amazing, and we’ve got the contacts to sort it.” Kelvin shoved the phone back into his pocket.
“Do you think we’ve got anything to worry about?” We’d seen other investigations into police corruption before, but nothing had ever touched us. We paid the right people, and we paid them well for a reason.
Kelvin pursed his lips in thought before he shook his head. “No. We’ve faced this before. Timmins just needed to be reminded of the key points on his unofficial job description. He’ll do as he’s told, and he’ll do it for as long as we tell him. We’ve got him by the balls, and he knows it.”
“It’s what you get for doing deals with the devil.”
“I’m not a saint, Alex, and neither are you. Get the coffee on again, and break out those Hobnobs you always have stuffed in the back of your cupboard.”