Bang: Memoirs of a Relationship Assassin (27 page)

“You can’t do this,” said Larry. “My security people will call the police. The company will prosecute – ”

“The item is Megan MacLeod,” I said, “and Declan Shea.”

Larry’s mouth closed.

“Would anyone like to start the ball rolling on this particular piece of business?”

“Why yes, I would,” said Emma, leaning forwards. I wished she wouldn’t do that quite so much. “I think we’re all aware that Global Investigations has been hired by the Golden Screen Theatrical Agency to provide round-the-clock security for the actress Megan MacLeod and popstar Declan Shea.”

“Yes, we’re all aware of that,” I nodded.

“In fact, it’s fair to say that Megan and Declan are amongst Global Investigation’s biggest clients, and are providing a great deal of revenue for them.”

“That’s certainly true.”

“So my question is, why would Global Investigations then arrange for Infidelity Ltd to actually break up the relationship between Megan and Declan, or at least make it look like one is cheating on the other? This will undoubtedly cause severe harm to their careers, and thus make them less lucrative clients. So why would Global Investigations want to shoot down its golden geese in this foolish manner?”

“Well, that’s a fair question. Hmmm. Perhaps the Director of Global Investigations could shed some light on it for us?”

We turned and looked at Larry.

I’d never seen him so rattled. Seriously on edge. Which is to say, he looked like a normal person waiting impatiently for the lift. Larry didn’t do emotion.

“All right,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “It’s nothing to do with Global Investigations. I took the case and passed it to Barry personally.”

Emma and I shared a triumphant look. “So it’s off the books?” I said. “Nobody else here knows anything about it?”

“It was offered to the company initially. But of course we refused. Betrayal of professional ethics.”

“Who?”
we demanded in unison, and she added “Who offered it to you? Who’s our client?”

Larry straightened his spectacles.

“Oh for Christ’s sake!” I snapped. “Bit late to start having professional ethics now, isn’t it? Just tell us who’s putting up the cash for this!”

“It’s not an ethical matter. It’s contractual. Anonymity guaranteed.”

I sneered. “Just as long as it looks good in the
newspapers
, right?”

Larry’s blank silence might as well have been a vigorous nod.

“All right,” said Emma, “so one of the tabloids comes knocking on Global Investigation’s door with an offer to split up Megan and Declan, to give them a good story. And of course it’s rejected. Outrageous, possibly illegal, very dodgy. Bur privately, without Global Investigations knowing…”

“…I told the client I’d take care of it,” agreed Larry.

“So why did you go to Barry?”

“Safer that way. I couldn’t use my own people on it. But Infidelity Ltd was perfect. No trail back to me. No evidence. Nothing provable in court,” he added with a fractionally-raised eyebrow. And we both got the unspoken message.
That alleged conversation in the Global Investigations headquarters never happened, your honour. My client Mr Jones denies it emphatically.
Nothing he told us would get beyond this room.

My mobile started playing Nobody Does It Better. I quickly reached into my jacket and cancelled the call. No time for Becky now. I was busy.

“So we’re working for you,” said Emma.

“In a sense. But being well-paid for your efforts. I agreed a fifty-fifty split with Barry.”

My turn to be gobsmacked. “What? But we’re getting quarter of a… so you’ve been offered
half a million pounds?
Jesus! And you’re trusting us to get this for you? How can you do that, you don’t know us at all!”

“Actually, I know you very well. I’ve been playing close attention to both of you.”

I went cold. “What, you mean…
spying
on us?”

“I prefer the term ‘covert surveillance’.”

“Why?”

“It sounds more professional.”

“No, I mean, why spy?”

“Why-spy?”

“Why did you spy on us!”

“To gauge your skills. I didn’t want to risk so much money on an unknown quantity. I had to confirm that you could both do what Barry said you could. Best way to do that was to observe you in the field.”

Emma and I shared a horrified look. For a second I thought she might swing for Larry. “You’ve been
watching
us when we’ve been on missions? Does Barry know about this?”

“Of course not. I asked to be kept updated on the work he gave you, but I didn’t let him know I was keeping tabs as well. It’s nothing personal,” he shrugged, “just safeguarding a business investment – ”

“The blonde guy!” Suddenly it all clicked into place. “The other detective in the Glasshouse restaurant who was watching me – that was you! That was a Global Investigations man!”

“Actually, he was another freelancer,” said Larry. “Ex-military. Couldn’t risk using my people. Won’t be using him again, either. He was hardly subtle.”

“I’ll say he wasn’t subtle! He nicked my motorbike! Larry, you have no idea how much grief that bastard has put me through –”

“You can have it back.”

I blinked. “Really?”

“He only took it to avoid you catching him, it wasn’t part of his mission brief. It’s down in our parking lot if you want it.”

No apology from Larry, no hint of remorse. But suddenly, just like that, Jake’s motorbike was being handed back to me. Except he didn’t need it any more, since I’d bought him a brand new one, the cost of which had left me poorer than I’d been for years. I grinned like a kid on Christmas morning as it struck me what this meant. That gorgeous black and red Honda was mine now. I had a motorbike of my very own!
Fantastic!

Emma fired a look that shot the smile clean off my face. Right. Sorry.

“One last question,” she said to Larry. “Why are you doing this? Isn’t it going to look a bit suspicious when Global Investigations make an extra quarter-million profit?”

“It’s not for the company. It’s for me.”

“Thought it might be. Director’s salary not good enough for you?” she sneered.

“I’m retiring. Emigrating,” said Larry simply.

And you could just about hear it in his dry-leaves voice: weariness.

For a moment, I wondered what Larry’s life had been like. Working in the private investigation industry for decades. Spying on people for a living. Digging up information. What grubby secrets must he have learned? How many nasty, vicious, petty, sordid little acts must he have seen?

I glanced over Larry’s shoulder at his desk. Amongst all the work stuff were four framed photographs. Smiling children in school uniform, three girls and one boy, aged between four and ten. All wearing glasses like their dad. But no pictures of the whole family. No pictures of his wife. Just the kids. And that told me exactly what Larry’s life had been like, and what damage had been done.

Larry met my eyes, knowing what I was looking at. “I’ll need to make sure they’re all comfortable before I go. Selling my company shares won’t be enough, but an extra two hundred and fifty thousand should do it.”

I nodded, understanding. Emma’s anger had faded too. She scanned the pictures of children, chewing her lip.

“And now you’ve ruined it,” Larry snapped, making us both jump.

“What? How?” we chorused.

“By storming in here like this.” He gestured at the door, behind which we could still hear the sounds of the girls being chased and dragged out of the office. “Questions are going to be asked. Investigations into what caused this… invasion. We’ve been seen together now, the three of us. You threw the board members out of my office. They’ll want to know why.”

I felt my stomach drop, realising the enormity of what we’d done. “Well, um, maybe we – ”

“They’ll find out about you two,” Larry added coldly. “Make no mistake. Finding out about people is what we do here. They’ll find out about Barry and they’ll shut his operation down. And then they’ll find out about me. Everybody loses.”

I panicked. Why didn’t I think this through, of course there would be repercussions! How could we possibly explain our way out of this?

Emma reached into her satchel and in a flash I saw her blowing Larry’s head off – but instead she threw a slim, spiral-bound document onto the table.

Larry arched an eyebrow, the equivalent of a normal man leaping to his feet. “What’s this?”

“It’s a corporate presentation to Global Investigations UK Ltd. By the VenusVisions Agency. To back up our little demonstration.”

“Demonstration?”

“That’s what this is,” she gestured at the door and all the chaos outside, “a demonstration of what VenusVisions does. A demonstration of what their girls can do, of how effective they can be, how beautiful and sexy they are. This is just our way of sending you a business proposal!”

I looked at the glossy document, both company logos on the cover, all professional. Secret weapon. Emma had known this would happen and had come prepared! I stared at Larry, his face as inscrutable as ever. Would he buy this? Sounded pretty bonkers even to me.

“Come on, you’ve got to admit it was effective!” insisted Emma. “There’s no way your people will forget our girls, is there? Imagine how useful it could be, being able to hire them. There must be loads of cases on your books where you could use a beautiful woman, for spying on people or as distractions or whatever. And you could send a lot of work Venus’s way too. It’d be a partnership arrangement. Surely the two agencies could help each other out?”

“Will VenusVisions back this up?” asked Larry.

“I’ll speak to them. I know the owners, they’d love to work with a proper detective agency, especially the biggest in the business. I’ll tell them I came in and suggested it to you… they don’t need to know the whole story… then you talk to your people, get them talking to Venus, it’ll all be kosher. No worries.”

I found myself smiling. Crazy. Emma was out of her mind.

“Yes, that might work,” admitted Larry.

“It’s brilliant!” I said. Emma glanced at me with surprise. “We’ll send the girls away and get your board members back in, make ‘em a coffee, smooth their feathers and explain the whole thing to them. Get them thinking about how much extra revenue those girls might be able to make. That will make them happier.”

My mind was racing now. Adrenalin zinging. For the first time in ages I felt a sudden wave of enthusiasm. The words came tumbling out.

“Listen Larry. We can crack this for you, I know we can, but we need your help. It’s almost impossible getting anywhere near Megan and Declan by ourselves, God knows we’ve both tried but it’s a complete nightmare. We need some help from you if we’re going to get close to them.”

“I don’t – ”

“I’ve got an idea. I’ve got a plan that will get us in there, get us right into their lives. But it can’t be done without some help from Global Investigations. You’re the ones standing in our way! You should be helping us out!”

“But – ”

“I know you don’t wanna get involved, I know you can’t risk anyone finding out you took this job. But you’ve got to get your hands a bit dirty, if you expect us to get anywhere. Unless you help us out then nobody wins. We all lose.”

I gestured towards the row of photographs on his desk.
“They
lose.”

Larry stared at me, then looked down at his hands. I watched a tiny muscle in his thin jaw pulse. Emma was watching me closely. Her turn to wonder if this crazy idea was going to work.

Larry sighed. “Tell me your plan.”

I cracked my knuckles and leaned forwards. Emma was staring at me the way I had stared at her, halfway between impressed and disbelieving. But both her and Larry sat and listened as I talked. My first audience for a long time. And I love audiences, as you know.

And so now we had Global Investigations on board. And a plan.

Game on.

KER-CHICK! – the second I opened my front door.

“Ha! Gotcha!”

There was Becky and her mobile phone, laughing as she checked the screen. Another stolen picture. How many did she have of me now!

I grabbed her and pulled her to me. “Gotcha back!” And then I snogged that girl’s face right off.

She yelped as I hauled her over my shoulder and gave her a fireman’s lift down the hall towards the bedroom. Didn’t give her a chance to speak. Not that Becky would ever tell me to stop. She loved this about John – his impulsiveness, the way he did crazy stuff without warning. No girl’s going to complain when her bloke is this excited to see her.

And boy, was I excited.

Cat on a hot tin roof ever since I got back from Global Investigations. Heart racing. Mind full of gorgeous girls. Brain whirring with plans and ideas. It was all happening, the mission was happening, game on! I was on a massive high. My life was suddenly exciting again! I’d almost forgotten it could be.

I’d even tried to call Darren. Man, he’d freak when I told him I was going on a mission against Megan MacLeod! But all I got was his voicemail message. I tried to remember the last time I’d spoken to him. And there was the echo of Andy Holloway’s voice in my head, telling Darren that he was
fuckin’ pussy-whipped!

Mental note: do something to get my best mate back.

Still. That could wait.

So as soon I saw Becky, I just couldn’t help myself. My excitement suddenly had a focus and I gave it to her both barrels. I even managed to reload. If you know what I mean.

But afterwards…

When I was eighteen or nineteen, I used to go clubbing at the weekends a lot. Not just London clubs but also up to Birmingham, Manchester, Bristol, wherever the best DJs were playing. Me, Darren and some mates from university, meeting up with some other people, friends of friends that I only ever spoke to in the queue or on the dancefloor. And when you’re serious about your clubbing, you don’t waste money buying rounds of drinks and getting pissed up. Instead you make sure one of your group has seen their dealer and picked up a little bag of E for everyone. And you pop those like tic-tacs and dance like a twat and laugh like a bigger twat and snog as many equally-twatted girls as you can until the sun comes up. Amazing nights. But then you get the comedown. Shoved awake by the designated driver after two hours sleep, piled into the back of a car with your mates who all smell so bad you wonder what you smell like yourself, and off you go, rattling down the motorway with the sunlight raping your eyeballs. That’s when you get the crash. Drained. Depressed. Edgy. Lost.