Sharp Turn (13 page)

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Authors: Marianne Delacourt

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BOOK: Sharp Turn
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I thought about ringing Smitty for clothes advice for my dinner date, but it was acid hour at her place. I settled for Bok instead, calling him from the garden so that Cass didn’t hear my tragic wardrobe dependency problem.

‘Darling,’ he said. ‘Thanks for sorting it with Ed.’

‘He wants me to come to the shoot with him. That okay with you?’

Silence.

‘Bok?’

‘Sure. That is . . . well . . .’

Bok never hedged with me. It was always straight to the point like a well-thrown dagger. ‘Wassup, man?’

‘You’re welcome to come. But you should know that he’s shooting with Jenny Munro.’

Jenny Munro!

‘Bok! OH MY GOD! How could you? The bitch from hell.’

‘Now, T, be nice. It’s an article on some of our elite sportspeople. Each one’s partnered with a model.’

‘But why
Ed
?’ I moaned.

‘Jenny’s pretty tall. I had to put her with one of the bigger guys.’

‘Bok. How could you
do
this to me?’

‘Stop being so dramatic,’ he snapped, much more like his regular self. ‘Come to the shoot. I’ll bring some Louis Roederer to cheer you up.’

Champagne could cure most of the world’s ills – but NOT, I was pretty sure, having your boyfriend rubbing up next to Jenny Munro. Last time I’d seen Munro, we’d competed against each other in the running section of a team triathlon. Jenny’s an Ironwoman and pro athlete. She should have taken out line honours, but I was being chased by two of Johnny Vogue’s hoods (one of them the now departed Sammy Barbaro) and beat her across the line. She went down in a screaming heap of recriminations but I was too busy running for safety to bother with it.

Besides, I owed her one. She broke my nose with a deliberate elbow in a basketball final when we were juniors. Not something you forget in hurry. Or ever. Evil bitch.

‘Alright,’ I said. ‘But if she baits me . . .’

‘If she baits you, you’ll behave like the perfect lady that you are and ignore her. This shoot is an excellent gig for your boyfriend, T. You wouldn’t want to spoil it, would you?’

Bok’s always been talented at working me. We’ve been friends ever since he hit me on the head with a ruler in primary school and I repaid the compliment by tipping him off his chair. We knew each other inside out and back to front, and he wasn’t above playing dirty to get me to do what he wanted. But he was also
always
there for me.

‘I’m having dinner with Nick Tozzi tonight. Strictly business,’ I added, quickly ‘What should I wear?’

‘Remember you have a boyfriend, Tara Sharp.’

Bok was gaining ground on Joanna as guilt-meister!

‘Nick’s got me a job. I’m just meeting him about it.’

‘Then why are you worried about what you’re wearing?’

‘Just tell me!’

‘Well . . . black is back . . . as long as it’s red.’

It took me a second to realise he was slinging me a ridiculous fashion-speak line.

‘Loser,’ I said.

I heard him laughing as I hung up.

I took a deep breath. Now it was time for the thing I really couldn’t put off any longer. I rang Madame Vine.

‘Yes?’ she answered quietly.

‘Madame Vine. It’s Tara Sharp. H-how are you going?’

‘I’m . . . coping, thank you, Tara.’

‘I’m . . . err . . . glad. Have the police made any progress on finding out who . . . did it?’

‘They tell me it will take time but they’re confident in a result. I’m not so sure, though.’ She was silent for a moment. When she finally spoke, her voice had become thinner, more strangled. ‘I must find Audrey’s killer, Tara. I’ll do anything to find him. You understand. Please, help me.’

I had to be honest with her. ‘Madame Vine, I’m happy to help you, but you realise that I’m not a trained private investigator? The police aren’t going to share any information with me. They’re much more likely to succeed than I am. In fact, I’m not sure what I can really do.’

‘The truth is, Tara, the police have been keeping the place under surveillance since the threats started. But I’m not happy with their results. It couldn’t hurt to have you asking questions as well,’ she said.

I thought about Whitey’s attitude towards me and wondered. ‘Do you mind if I ask why you want me involved?’

Another silence. This one shorter, though. ‘I’ll try anything. And people I trust recommend you.’

‘Oh. Okay.’ It was my turn to hesitate. What did I do now? Go with the only idea I had. ‘The two women, Kate and –’

‘Louise.’

‘Yes. When could I speak to them?’

‘They’re at work now.’

I glanced at my watch. ‘I’ll be over as soon as I can then.’

‘Thank you, Tara. I can pay you well.’

‘It’s not the money, Madame Vine. I prefer to only take jobs I think I can be effective on.’

‘Please, call me Lena.’

‘I’ll see you soon . . . Lena.’

I went back inside and told Cass I was going out. She nodded vaguely, engrossed in the cookbooks.

‘You’re having dinner with Mum and Dad, aren’t you?’ I checked.

Another nod.

‘Right. Well, I have to see another . . . client, then I have a business dinner. Lock the door when you go to bed, I’ll take my key.’

Nothing.

I sighed. Teenagers.

I wouldn’t have time to come back home so I needed to dress for dinner now. Ransacking my wardrobe, I found the only red thing I owned: a dress I’d bought for Smitty’s birthday party the previous year.

Three minutes in the shower and out and I slipped it on. It still fitted – a little snugger perhaps – but I was too preoccupied with thoughts of Madame Vine to take much notice. I couldn’t get rid of the image of Audrey’s stilettos still on her feet as she lay dead on the veranda.

‘You okay?’ asked Cass, looking up from her cookery book.

‘Errr . . . sure. I’ll see you later.’

I grabbed my beach bag, car keys and a light wrap, and slipped on my black heels. Cass’s eyes widened and she looked like she might say something, then thought better of it.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘All good,’ she said and buried her head in the book again.

I called Wal and arranged to pick him up on the way to Leederville. He was at Liv’s apartment, having dinner, so I took a detour through Claremont. When he got into the front passenger seat I noticed gravy stains on his shirt and wine on his breath.

‘Sorry to drag you away from dinner,’ I said. ‘Did you find out anything about Leonard Roc?’

‘I asked around,’ he said slowly.

‘And?’

‘Seems he got out of the can a while back for pushing.’

‘Pushing what?’

‘Coke. Whatever. They reckon he’s clean now though.’

‘Okay. Thanks. Maybe you could suss him out some more while I’m talking to Madame Vine. Good job, Wal.’

‘No sweat, boss. It’s my job. Nice dress.’

I gave him a sideways look to see if he was joking, but his expression seemed perfectly serious.

On the drive I brought him up to speed on the ins and outs of the Bolo Ignatius job.

‘Two gigs at once, boss. We must be getting a good reputayshun,’ he said.

We? I swallowed to moisten my suddenly dry mouth.

‘Maybe. Look, I’m going to talk to two of Lena Vine’s workers, Kate and Louise. I want you to poke around while I do.’

‘Gotcha!’

‘Be subtle.’

‘My first name. Subtle Wal.’ He burped for emphasis.

I parked outside the brothel and slung my wrap across the front of my dress to tone it down a bit. The police tape was gone from the street, but a section of the garden was still cordoned off and a police officer stood by the door. We skirted the tape and told the policeman that we had an appointment.

Roc, the security guard, answered the bell and he and Wal low-fived each other.

‘This is my boss, Tara Sharp,’ said Wal by way of introduction. ‘Boss, meet Leonard Roc.’

Leonard was a big, muscled guy with a jaw thick enough to chop wood on. Hello, HGH! He held out a hand as big as a shovel to shake mine. ‘G’day.’

His aura had thin streaks of white snaking through it like cracks. He wasn’t long away from a major illness. It hadn’t reached the
no
aura stage that, in my experience, meant he was dying but he was on that path. Part of me wanted to say something but I’d learned that lesson a while ago. Stay out of strangers’ lives.

‘Hi,’ I said.

Lena Vine came up behind him and he stepped out of her way. Only a day had passed since I’d seen her and yet she seemed to have lost kilos. Her face showed signs of sleeplessness and trauma and her aura boiled unhappily.

‘Come this way, Tara,’ she said.

I followed her to a room opposite her office, which turned out to be the staff lounge. Not as opulent as the front lounge where the clients waited, but comfortable and clean. A pretty fair-headed girl around my age sat in one of the chairs, flicking through a magazine. I could see immediately that she wasn’t really paying attention to it.

‘This is Kate,’ Lena said. ‘I’ll close the door and make sure you’re not disturbed. When you’ve finished, open the door and I’ll bring Louise in.’

I parked my butt opposite Kate and sucked in her ambience. That turned out not to be the best idea. I got hit with an unpleasantly sticky sensation.

‘Thanks for talking to me, Kate. Madame . . . Lena is very anxious to find Audrey’s . . . you know.’

Kate lifted her eyes to meet mine. Her gaze was uninterested and slightly out of focus. ‘Whatever.’

I sucked in a breath. ‘Can you tell me what you remember about the evening?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Like I haven’t told the police a hundred times already.’

‘Yeah. But I’m not the police, so just tell it like it was.’

‘Who are you? A PI?’ She showed a flicker of interest.

‘Just a friend of a . . . friend of Lena’s.’

‘Oh.’ Boredom returned. ‘Well, I was in the lounge . . . painting my nails. I saw Audy go past and open the door. She didn’t come back in. Then someone else went out. Then everyone started screaming.’

‘What did you do?’

She stared at me, as if struggling to understand my question.

‘What – did – you – do?’ I repeated.

‘Nothing. The others were all doing it. Poor old Audy.’

She licked her lips and tried to express some emotion but couldn’t seem to sustain it. It was like talking to a rag doll. Ten minutes later I hadn’t got much further and called it quits. Her answers had gotten vaguer and vaguer. I took another look at her aura. In the artificial light the other night, I’d thought it missing altogether, but could now see it was just so diluted it was almost invisible.

She drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped her nose. Suddenly, I knew what was wrong. Kate was stoned. Not obvious, incapable stoned. More like practised and still functioning – just.

I got up abruptly and opened the door. ‘Thanks.’

She seemed mildly surprised and then shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

Louise replaced her on the couch within moments. She was as fidgety and tense as Kate had been chemically flattened, her aura running in a tight grey bead around her body.

‘Hi, Louise, I have some questions about the other night.’

‘I’ve told the police what I know,’ she said flatly.

‘Please, just tell me again.’

She hunched over defensively. ‘I was in the lounge with Kate. Audrey went past to open the door and didn’t come back.’

‘Didn’t you think that was strange?’

‘Why should I?’

‘The door was left open. Did you hear her fall?’

‘I was listening to my iPod.’

‘Uh-huh.’ I took a stab at being a bit more provocative. ‘How did you get on with Audrey?’

‘Fine.’ Her aura stayed tight and hard.

‘What about Madame Vine?’

‘Fine.’

‘Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt either of them?’

‘No.’ This time sulphur sparks ignited in her aura like a match had been lit.

‘Okay, thanks.’

‘That all?’

‘Yes.’

She gave me a suspicious look then got up and left.

Lena appeared almost immediately at the door, as if she’d been hovering.

‘Could I speak to you privately?’ I said.

‘Certainly, come to the office.’

I followed her the short distance down the corridor and stayed standing when she closed the door and sat at her desk. Audrey’s adjoining office door was open, her things still in place.

‘What do you know about Louise’s background?’ I asked.

She thought for a moment, pressing her temples as if to relieve a headache. ‘She’s from Victoria, a student who found she couldn’t live on her allowance. Many of my girls come to me because of that problem. She’s been here nearly two years and I’ve never had any problems with her. Her other details are on file. Was there something in particular?’

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