Black Widow (26 page)

Barolli was on the phone when Annie was shown in. She sat down in her usual chair and looked at this man who she knew had his fingers in all manner of extortion rackets. And new things, too: things that the London gangs weren’t much into yet. Things like legitimate business loans, offered at better interest rates than the banks. So long as the retailer paid up promptly, all was well. If a retailer defaulted, the Barolli firm claimed the business, asset-stripped it, and sold it on. Which wasn’t that dissimilar from the banks, really. Only the banks didn’t break your legs if you complained about their business methods.

‘Sorry about that,’ said Constantine, putting the phone down at last.

‘That’s okay,’ said Annie. ‘Is there any news of Layla?’

‘Not yet. Be patient.’ He sat back, looked at her.

Annie clasped her hands together and stifled the
impulse to launch herself at him in fury. For fuck’s sake!
When
was there going to be news of Layla? There was less than a week to go now. Desperation boiled in her, but she was determined not to show it. He would use it against her, she knew he would.

‘I heard our mutual contact had a mishap,’ he said.

Annie’s fists clenched in her lap, the nails digging into her palms.

‘He’s dead,’ she said flatly, staring at him with cold, emotionless eyes. ‘If you can call being dead a mishap, then yeah, he has.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah.’

At least he’s not saying ‘I told you so’
, thought Annie. There was that to be thankful for. If he knew more details, if he knew how big a hash she’d made of things, he didn’t say so.

‘How do I get in touch with you now?’ asked Constantine.

‘Through my driver, Tony,’ said Annie.
And please God don’t let anything happen to Tony because of me.

‘Good.’ Constantine stood up, went to the window behind his desk, lifted the blinds and glanced out. He turned back to Annie.

‘I’ve been thinking about your problem, Mrs Carter,’ he said, putting his hands in his pockets and leaning back against the wall.

‘Oh?’

‘You know, it puzzles me. Why ask for such a large sum? Half a million! That’s a great deal of money. And why give you so long to raise it?’

‘Perhaps they’ve given me so long to raise it precisely because it is so large a sum,’ said Annie.

‘Maybe. But why not pitch it lower—say, half of that? Then it would be a safer bet, yeah? In their shoes, that’s what I’d do. The mark should be able to raise that, even if it was a struggle…and then no need for this long wait for the money. Little fish are sweet, Mrs Carter. So you know what I think about this?’

‘No,’ said Annie.

‘I still think that whoever is doing this is doing it not only to get the money, but to hurt you too.’

‘Do you think they expect me to fail to raise it?’ she asked. God knew she had her doubts about her own ability to come up with the goods. The doubts were increasing all the time, and now she felt almost at screaming pitch.

Constantine shook his head.

‘No, they know you’ll raise it, one way or another. You’re a mother; you’ll raise it. But they’re in no hurry to get it, and that makes me suspect that the big buzz here is all about twisting your tail. So the question we should be asking is—who hates you enough to do that?’

Annie stared at him.
The silver fox.
She looked away.

‘I thought it was Kieron Delaney, but Kieron Delaney is dead,’ she said. ‘He had a…a sort of obsession with me. I was sure it was him, but Redmond Delaney says it’s not possible.’

‘And you believe him?’

‘Yeah,’ said Annie. ‘Funnily enough, I do.’

‘I heard you shut all three of the Carter clubs.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Why? If you need to raise money to get your daughter back, why close a profitable business?’

‘Because those clubs had been turned into tacky hellholes, that’s why. And we both know that the money I’m losing through the clubs won’t cover a fraction of what these people want from me.’ Annie clutched at her head. It was pounding. She looked up at him. ‘There’s really no news? None at all?’

Constantine’s blue eyes stared into hers. ‘Nothing concrete yet.’

‘Or are you just saying that to string me along?’

‘We’re following leads.’

‘All right, then. The money. Loan me the money. Right now. So I’ve got it in place.’

‘What?’

Annie jumped to her feet. Suddenly she couldn’t just sit there and pretend to be cool any more. Time was running out fast. There was less than a
week to go.
Less than one week!
They couldn’t let this thing go right to the wire. If there was no news now, then the money had to be there very soon.

‘You heard me.’ Annie planted both fists on the desk and glared at him. ‘You make business loans. The banks won’t lend me fuck-all. But you could. A legitimate business loan, Mr Barolli. From you to me. All signed and sealed. All perfectly above board. You loan me the money and—’

‘And what?’ Constantine pushed himself away from the wall. ‘You’ve closed down the only means of income you have and, Mrs Carter, loans have to be repaid.’

‘I know that.’

‘Plus there’s the
slight
problem that you don’t own the clubs, your husband does…’

‘I have Max’s permission to act as necessary, always.’ She was in limbo and she knew it, tangled up in a web of lies.

‘He’s been in touch then?’

‘No,’ said Annie. ‘He hasn’t.’

‘No,’ said Constantine. ‘Thought not.’

‘He’s alive,’ said Annie, but it was a lie. She knew it. He knew it. She was fooling nobody.

‘He’s dead. Everything points to that.’

Annie took a deep breath.

‘Look,’ she said. ‘The point is that I’m here and Max is not. So
I
closed the clubs because I was
unhappy with the way they were being run, and
I
am going to reopen them and run them at a profit. So
you
can give me a business loan, and if I default on any of the payments then you can beat me over the head, anything, only
give me the fucking loan.’

Constantine didn’t even blink. He looked up at her with the same blank impassivity he always displayed. Then he said: ‘No.’

‘What?’

‘I said no. You know my terms, Mrs Carter. I don’t particularly want to extend a business loan to you. You know I have a more personal arrangement in mind. I’ll come up with the goods when
you
come up with the goods.’

Annie closed her eyes briefly. She slumped back into the chair and then stared at him.

‘You bastard,’ she said flatly.

‘Yep, I guess that’s true.’

‘You utter, fucking
bastard.’
Now she was shaking with rage, incandescent with it. ‘Don’t you have any feeling? Don’t you have any
conscience?’

‘An upright prick has no conscience, Mrs Carter. As I’m sure you know.’ Constantine’s mouth tilted in a slight smile. ‘And, incidentally, the last person who spoke to me like that was my mother, and I didn’t much like it. I still don’t. I suggest you stop right there.’

Annie jumped to her feet. ‘And I suggest you
stuff it up your
arse,’
she yelled. ‘You can
shove
your personal arrangement.’

And she stormed from the room, crossed the empty hall, and went out of the front door and on to the steps. Once outside, she stopped. Breathing hard, she hesitated. Because she had no choice. No choice at all.

She went back inside and crossed the hall and opened the study door and went back in, closing it behind her. She looked at Constantine, sitting there patiently behind his desk.

‘You gonna tell me to shove my personal arrangement again, Mrs Carter?’ he asked.

Annie gulped down a calming breath and finally shook her head.

‘No, I’m not going to say that.’

He looked at her curiously.

‘What, then?’

Annie thought:
Here we go.

‘I’m going to ask you if you’ve got a key for this door. People seem to keep bursting in on us.’

Constantine stood up, came around the desk, walked over to where she stood. He took a small key out of his jacket pocket, put it in the lock and turned it.

Oh fuck it Max, I’m sorry. Forgive me for this.

Constantine drew closer, staring at her face.

‘What?’ she asked nervously.

‘Nothing.’

‘No, what is it?’

‘I’m just wondering if any woman can be worth half a million pounds,’ said Constantine.

Probably not
, thought Annie.

‘You remember the art exhibition in Jermyn Street? Kieron Delaney had painted a nude of you. I was there.’

‘I know. I saw you.’ Annie remembered that occasion very well. Constantine had been there with his family, and she had instantly noticed him: a stunningly handsome man, glossy and polished as only wealthy American men ever were.

‘Kieron Delaney was all over you like a cheap suit. And Max came in and there was a fight. Even Redmond Delaney was treating you respectfully, and I don’t think he has much time for women on the whole. I know all about the bad blood between the Carters and the Delaneys, and that was a factor, but Kieron Delaney and Max were mostly fighting over you. I could see that. And you know what? I could see why.’

‘Why?’ Annie asked, dry-mouthed.

‘Because you’re something else, Mrs Carter. Something different.’

‘You don’t have to flatter me to get me into bed, Mr Barolli. It’s a done deal.’

‘It’s not flattery. It’s a fact.’

‘Whatever—it’s not needed,’ said Annie coldly.

Constantine smiled a little at that. ‘I think you’re going to be a very tough nut to crack.’

Annie shook her head. ‘No, I’ll be easy. That’s the deal, right? I’m easy and you pay. But first I want to know one thing.’

‘And that is…?’

‘When do I get the money?’

‘Straight down to business. Money for sex, very direct. I like that.’

Annie felt herself colour up. She knew he was alluding to her past.

‘I’ve never been on the game, Mr Barolli, whatever you may have heard or read in the press.’

‘The Mayfair Madam,’ said Constantine thoughtfully.

‘Yeah, note the word “Madam”. I ran the show, I wasn’t a performer.’

‘Were there other men? Kieron Delaney?’

‘No.’ Although Max had always thought there was something between the two of them. His endless jealous suspicions had driven her crazy; they were groundless.

‘And, before Max…?’

‘No.’

Constantine drew back a little, his expression sceptical, his mouth curving in a cynical smile. ‘A one-man woman?’

‘Excuse me, is that even remotely bloody funny? And you haven’t answered my question.’

‘You get your money when I’m satisfied, Mrs Carter—but certainly by Friday. Of course, if I’m
not
satisfied…’

‘You will be,’ said Annie quickly, feeling sick at heart, cursing the evil, miserable bastards who had pushed her into this corner.

He looked around. ‘On the couch over there would be good.’

He indicated one of the big tan leather Chesterfields. Annie walked over to it as if she was about to be shot. So this was it. Down to business. But now it was here, now she was actually going to have to
do
it, she wasn’t sure she could.

Constantine saw her hesitation.

‘Let me take your coat,’ he said, and he slipped it off her shoulders.

Annie stiffened.

He was standing so close to her, right behind her. Only Max had ever done that.

Now he was pushing her hair to one side, and she felt with absolute panic his hands moving at the back of her neck, felt him grasp the zip on the back of her dress and pull it down.

This is the deal
, she told herself firmly. Her teeth were gritted so hard she felt her jaw start to ache.

Constantine pushed the dress from her shoulders and it fell to the floor.

She was wearing a black bra, black panties,
stockings, suspender belt. And her high-heeled shoes and supple leather gloves. She made to pull them off.

‘No—keep the gloves on,’ said Constantine. ‘And the shoes.’

Annie stood there, not knowing what to do next, feeling like a stupid virgin, feeling as if she was going to really freak in a second. Jesus, what if he was kinky? What if he was into rough stuff or something like that? She wasn’t Aretha. She couldn’t deal with this. She was
Max’s wife.

‘Lie down on the couch, Mrs Carter,’ said Constantine.

Oh God. This was it.

Annie sat down on the couch, the cold leather striking the undersides of her thighs and making her shiver. She glanced up, and Constantine was shrugging off his jacket, undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt.

Oh shit.

She looked down at the expensive rug beneath her feet. Braced herself. Swung her legs up on to the couch and lay back, eyes closed. If she watched him undress then she really would have an attack of the screaming abdabs and she knew it.

She couldn’t open her eyes. She just couldn’t do it. No. She’d let him get on with it, a couple of minutes and it would all be over, he’d be happy and she’d be on her road to the half-million-pound
payout. She just had to stop thinking about Max, with his dark hair and swarthy skin and his hooked nose…fuck it, and here she was thinking about Max again, and this was a totally inappropriate time to do it.

She was about to allow a stranger to fuck her for money.

‘Mrs Carter,’ Constantine said softly against her ear.

‘What?’ asked Annie, her eyes tight shut.

‘Mrs Carter, I don’t have any appetite for rape. You want to call this off?’

Now Annie opened her eyes. Jesus, no, she couldn’t let that happen. She couldn’t call it off. She couldn’t allow him to find her anything less than appealing. For Layla.

Constantine was half-smiling down at her. He had taken his shirt off and she could feel the masculine heat coming off him, warming her even though she did not want to be warmed. He had curls of crisp hair on his broad and well-muscled chest. His all-American tan didn’t stop at his neck. She brought her eyes hastily back up to his face.