Chapter 27
ERROL’S APARTMENT, ABOVE ERROL’S EMPORIUM
‘Oh my God! What are you still doing here? You almost gave a brother a heart attack!’
It was the following morning and Errol clutched at his chest as he hobbled into his kitchen very gingerly. He was wearing leopard print pyjamas and a pink durag over his orange hair but all of his usual flamboyant nature had been dialled down a good few notches.
‘I told you I was staying,’ Luca said, pouring coffee into mugs.
‘I know but I didn’t think you meant it.
I told you I was fine. It’s New York, I’m alive, it’s one of those things.
Some guy with no money needing a solid before Christmas and, instead of asking for it, he felt he needed to just take it.
Bad luck for him I never go out with much cash.
’ Errol pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and very gently lowered himself down onto it.
‘So he took money? You didn’t say that last night.’ Luca put a full coffee cup down in front of Errol then picked up his own.
‘I don’t really remember what I said last night. I had a concussion.’
‘You didn’t tell me that either!’ Luca exclaimed. ‘The hospital should have insisted you have someone stay the night.’
‘Well, you did and I’m alive, so after this coffee and a restorative cigarette I can get ready to go open up the store. Where are my cigarettes?’
‘You don’t need a cigarette, Errol. We need to find out why this happened. This neighbourhood isn’t that sketchy.’
‘No? Last week someone stripped off all their clothes right across the street and showered themselves with a hosepipe. It’s the beginning of December!’
‘Yeah, well, there’s something else. I didn’t want to tell you last night but, I don’t know, maybe it’s connected.’
‘What?’ Errol asked.
‘The outfit we made for Gabriella—’
‘Oh my God!’ Errol gasped. ‘I saw the interview. She looked stunning and she is such a speaker. It’s like she comes to life under those studio lights. I was ready to buy anything she wanted to sell me.’
Luca didn’t disagree, couldn’t. However, he had felt it was very much polished as a performance rather than true authenticity. ‘Yeah, well, all the time she was sat on Zeeta Friedmann’s sofa, there was a razor-sharp piece of metal in the bodice that was cutting into her rib cage.’
Errol’s eyes almost popped out of his head. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Yeah, I’m serious.’ He sighed. ‘She wouldn’t go to the hospital so I had to pull it out of her in a janitor’s closet.’
‘Well, is she OK?’ Errol pushed himself off the chair, limping across the kitchen floor. ‘I feel responsible. I am responsible. My outfit, made with things from my place; she must want to impale me or something. Where are my cigarettes?’ He began opening drawers and cupboards.
‘Errol, did anyone else help finish off the outfit? One of your staff? Anyone you don’t pay enough who wanted to make a statement? Hold you to ransom?’
‘Hey, I pay well! I don’t like that insinuation,’ Errol growled. ‘What sort of sweatshop do you think I run, huh?’
‘Sorry, I’m just… you know… trying to work this all out.’ He took a breath. ‘Errol, is there anyone who might have some kind of grudge against you?’
‘You mean an ex?’
‘Anyone.’
‘No! I’m a nice person. I know I like to shoot my mouth off now and again, but not enough to make anyone take me down in the street or sabotage my designs! I don’t hang out with mobsters.’
And all the connotations of that hit Luca hard.
He hung out with mobsters – not willingly, they were family.
He couldn’t deny that it had been his first thought.
How could it not have been? But he didn’t want it to be the case.
The metal in the dress was kind of subtle and subtle had never been his father’s strong suit.
Attacking Errol was on brand but, again, Errol was fully conscious, home, not eating food through a straw or worse.
Some of it just wasn’t matching previous MO.
‘Shit,’ Errol said. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘It’s OK,’ Luca said, his hands hugging the coffee cup. ‘Obviously, I had thought of that before I questioned anyone holding you to ransom.’
‘I mean I’m not saying just because your dad is a mobster he’s responsible for all potential mobster-related incidents. Because that would make me prejudiced and I am not.’
‘Errol, honestly, don’t sweat it.’
‘So what are you thinking?’ Errol asked. ‘I can hear that mind spinning like a DJ’s vinyl.’
‘Right now, I’m thinking that you need to go back to bed and get some rest. I’ve called Cassandra. She’s going to come and manage the store.’
‘Luca! Why did you do that? She will be in charge for one day and I will never be able to find anything ever again. Like my cigarettes!’
Luca took the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and threw them towards his friend who deftly caught them then visibly winced with the effort.
‘I need to go now,’ Luca said. ‘I have to check in with Sybille and I have Gabriella coming to La Facon this afternoon. But, do not, under any circumstances, go down into that store today.’
Errol pulled a face as he got a cigarette out of the packet. ‘I make no promises.’
‘Errol, please, take care of yourself. If not for you, then do it for me.’
‘Ugh, please don’t hit me with greeting card schmaltz.’ He waved a hand in the air. ‘The only Hallmark I need is on my TV with leading men in plaid.’
‘Great,’ Luca answered. ‘So set yourself up for the day. And, call me if you remember anything else about last night. OK?’
‘OK,’ he replied, albeit sounding reluctant.
‘Say it like you mean it.’
‘I will call you… Daddy.’ He licked his lips salaciously.
‘Good. Your sense of humour is intact. See you later.’