Sleeping Cruelty (33 page)

The plan was for Laura to make Matlock desire her to such an extent that he would agree to meet on the quayside. They would board one of the boats and Justin would be waiting.

Chapter Nineteen

B
y midnight, the Coca-Baba club was so crowded that there was hardly any space on the dance floor. Customers perched on the veranda railings and hovered around the rickety steps while the local ragga band pounded away at the microphones, which seemed constantly on distort. The loudspeakers added a high-pitched feedback that almost assisted the vocals and backups. The air was dense with cigarette and ganja smoke, and it was as hot and damp as a sauna. Perfumes mixed with body odour as the dancers writhed to the music. Flickering ultraviolet lights added to the surreal atmosphere: teeth became whiter than white, white clothes glowed with a strange phosphorescence, black skin disappeared leaving only eyeballs and teeth glinting from darkened corners as wraps, joints and folded dollar bills were passed.

Justin sat outside on the roof of a parked car. He had another tepid bottle of beer in his hand and had been eager to leave over an hour ago. Clarissa had danced with anyone who’d have her. She was being passed from partner to partner, necking and clinging to each one as though they were long-lost lovers. Justin watched her, bored. Her eyes occasionally darted him a frenetic glare of hatred. She was proving, if not to him then to herself, that she was sexy and sought-after, which indeed she was.
Locally, white meat, especially with money, was referred to as a ‘honey pot’. James had become moodier as the evening progressed. He had snorted cocaine, then complained to Justin that it was baby powder or, worse, laced with borax: his nose was dripping and painful.

Justin decided it was time to go home. The tide was in their favour and the water appeared quite calm. Enough, he thought, was enough. His charges were wrecked. He drained his beer, tossed aside the bottle and pushed his way into the heaving mass. Clarissa angrily faced him out: she was not ready to leave. Justin gripped her wrist and dragged her to the steps. ‘Get off me,’ she screeched. ‘I’ve lost my watch!’

‘Shut the fuck up! You want a pack on to us? If you lost your watch, then forget it. Maybe somebody took it in payment for screwing you up the arse in the john.’

She tried to hit him but he ducked. She fell forward and began to vomit.

Justin hauled her away from the onlookers towards the waste-ground at the side of the club. There he found James. He was lying face down, his shirt torn, his pants round his ankles.

Justin hauled him to his feet. ‘Get your pants up, man. We’re out of here.’

‘I was just taking a piss,’ James slurred.

Justin signalled for the boys waiting on the speedboat to help him get the pair on to the deck.

‘Why did you bring us here?’ Clarissa wailed. She continued to snivel about her watch, until she realized her gold necklace was also missing, which brought on a fresh onslaught of tears.

‘Think yourself lucky you’ve not lost a lot more. Stop bleating, and have a good shower when you get in. You’re probably lousy with crabs.’

Clarissa gasped and shuddered. ‘I didn’t let them touch me,’ she moaned. But she had, and had lost count of how many.

Justin ignored her. He had noticed James was white-faced, his lips blue. He still seemed unable to focus. ‘You okay? James?’

James swung his head round. ‘Yeah, man . . . I’m cool.’

The return trip to the island was a long, slow haul. When they arrived at the island, Justin strode off towards his bungalow. He wanted to shower and get the stench of vomit out of his nostrils. As he passed Max’s room he crept up to the half-open shutter. The lights were on but, although the sheet had been pulled back, the bed was empty. Justin listened, but heard only the sound of crickets, so he moved on. Where could Max be at this hour?

Laura’s suite was in darkness, shutters closed, door locked. He walked on to his own room where the lights were blazing. ‘You’re late,’ said Laura, as he came in, closing the door.

‘I couldn’t get them to leave the club. I got back as soon as I could.’ He began to peel off his clothes. ‘Don’t come near me, I stink.’ He stepped out of his trousers.

‘We have to talk,’ Laura said.

‘Not right now. I need a shower.’ He disappeared into the bathroom.

Laura sat drumming her fingers on the bedside table. She had it all worked out. By the time he had left the bathroom Justin was more relaxed. He flopped down on the bed and Laura stroked his damp hair.

‘Okay. How did it go with Matlock? You made progress?’

‘Yes, he’s all over me like a rash. But I don’t know whether I can go through with it. The man disgusts me. I don’t know that I want to give him the pleasure of fucking me.’

‘Well, there’s no need, is there? I mean, I think I’ve done a pretty good job of getting him into the fishing anyway. He’ll be dying to get out there tomorrow, and I’ll just tell the boat-boys that I’m going to take him out alone.’

For a moment Laura was hurt. She had wanted to be there for the grand finale. Then she realized that perhaps with Justin absent she would have a chance to get her things together for her escape with Max.

Justin saw her look and interpreted it as disappointment.
‘Don’t worry, my princess. I’ll just get him drugged up on the boat then bring him back to the harbour. Keep an eye open for me and we’ll finish him down there. I should be back around twelve thirty.’

She took a deep breath. ‘Now, just listen and don’t interrupt. I’ve had to push things along a few notches. Tomorrow the Baron and Baroness leave, along with Daphne Hangerford and Clarissa.’

‘What?’

‘They might have become a problem, and we don’t care about them anyway.’

There was something about her tone, her confidence, that alerted him. ‘What did you do?’

‘Oh!’ She shrugged. ‘I let them see themselves on the video. They’re packed and ready.’

‘Is Max going with them?’

‘Of course.’

He giggled. ‘So that leaves just . . .’

‘Matlock, his wife and son,’ Laura said softly.

He caught her hand. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

Laura withdrew her hand. ‘I think William’s coming back.’

‘Well, we know he is. It
is
his island.’

She faced him angrily. ‘He might be here tomorrow.’

Justin’s face drained of colour.

Clarissa walked slowly with the wretched James. He kept stumbling, and had to lean heavily against her. ‘What on earth have you shovelled up tonight?’ she asked, almost buckling under the weight of his arm around her shoulders.

‘Not enough,’ he muttered.

‘For God’s sake, I can’t prop you up. We’ll have to get one of those golf carts.’ She looked around but didn’t know where they were kept. She wished she’d asked the boat-boys to help them. ‘That bloody Justin just pissed off,’ she said, wondering whether or not to leave James where he was and find someone to help.

‘He’s a shit,’ James mumbled, then started to cry, sinking to his knees. ‘I’m so messed up,’ he sobbed.

Clarissa sighed and caught sight of Max not far ahead of them. ‘Max?’ she called.

Max had been unable to sleep. He’d read and watched a movie before deciding to walk around the island. ‘My God, look at the state of him,’ he said.

James was now lying flat on the pathway.

‘He’s done some drugs, God knows what,’ Clarissa said, as they tried to haul him to his feet. ‘Help me get him to his room, will you?’ Max hooked an arm around him and hauled him upright. The three staggered to James’s room. As they reached the door, Clarissa let go of his arm. ‘I’m going to bed,’ she announced, and walked on.

Max was furious. ‘We can’t just leave him. He could choke or something.’

‘Stick him under the shower, then. I’ve had enough of him.’

Max stripped off James’s clothes and was appalled at the marks all over his body. There were bloody scratches, bites, dark bruises and raw red welts across his back. ‘James, who’s done this to you?’

James lifted his head, his eyes drooping. He tried to say something but he passed out. Somehow Max dragged him into the shower and turned on the cold tap, soaking himself in the process. Then he returned to the bedroom to brew some coffee and fetch some pyjamas. When he returned to the shower James was still unconscious, but his face was deathly pale and the skin round his mouth was turning blue. Max called Dahlia, who said she would send Kurt.

Laura moved off the bed and began to pace up and down. ‘It’s got to be him. Why would she say we mustn’t be told? And who else could it be anyway? Just to make sure, I asked Dahlia if she had heard from him. She acted a bit cagey and said nothing had
been confirmed, that he was possibly coming home but she wasn’t sure.’

Justin stood by the shutters. ‘She said that? Are you sure?’

‘Why would I make it up?’ Laura snapped. ‘Now you know why I had to move things so fast. I wouldn’t have done it if it hadn’t been an emergency, not without you.’

‘Well, well! Speak of the devil,’ he said softly. He walked over to the door and opened it. ‘Dahlia! What on earth are you doing up at this hour?’

‘It’s young James Matlock. He’s unconscious. Kurt is with him. He says we must get a doctor.’

‘Kurt’s a trained nurse,’ Justin said.

‘A nurse is not a doctor,’ said Dahlia, ‘and the boy doesn’t look good. I’ve just come from his room.’

‘Shit!’ Justin dropped his towel and went back into the room to grab a tracksuit. ‘Come in for a minute,’ he called to Dahlia. As he dressed he asked her if William was arriving ahead of schedule. She was evasive, until he snatched her arm. ‘Listen to me, bitch,’ he hissed. ‘You’re here on a massive salary, courtesy of me, so don’t fuck me around. Is he coming or is he not?’

She nodded. ‘He asked me to tell no one, made me swear not to.’

‘Your loyalties are to him now, are they?’

She shifted her weight. ‘I didn’t mean to do anything wrong, Justin.’

He stared at her. ‘I’ll let this one go, but don’t think I won’t remember it. You’d be back in that whorehouse, and your kids along with you, if it weren’t for me. Now, get out of my sight.’

Dahlia slipped out, terrified.

Justin’s face was taut with anger. Then he said, ‘I’d better go and see that dumb piece of shit.’

Laura asked if he would like her with him, but he told her to go to bed, she must be exhausted after having to sort so much out by herself earlier. He spoke with the venomous camp lisp she hated.

As the door closed behind him, she sighed with relief. She was sure he had not detected her lie or, more important, suspected anything about Max, and that he had no idea of her intentions. She took a small suitcase, opened it on her bed, and packed the few garments she felt were absolutely necessary. Her heart beat rapidly. She was excited and her hand trembled as she crossed back and forth to her wardrobe, laying out clothes beside the case. Suddenly she felt dizzy and her head throbbed, but she sucked in her breath and didn’t stop. Her pace quickened and her hand began to brush at her skirt.

James was now in blue pyjamas. His face above the tight, white sheet was pale and his lips still blue, but his breathing was regular.

Max was in the room with Kurt, who had a medical kit-bag.

‘You should leave this to me,’ Kurt said. Max chewed his lip. ‘Go on, son, you’ve done more than enough. I’ll look after him now.’

Max hurried off and, passing Laura’s room, paused: the lights were on. He went up her path and peered into the bedroom between the partly closed shutters. She was undressing, the room lit by candles. Max wanted to call out to her but he couldn’t say a word. He was mesmerized. She was naked now, brushing her hair, her eyes half closed. Suddenly he heard footsteps and ducked down as Justin hurried past. He remained hidden, listening, afraid Justin would discover him.

By the time he straightened up, the candles had been extinguished and Laura’s room was in darkness.

If he had been a moment earlier, he would have seen a different Laura, shaking convulsively as she took out her pills. She managed to swallow them, then took deep breaths to calm herself and picked up her hairbrush. With her eyes closed she whispered, ‘I’m all right, Laura’s all right, Laura’s all right.’

James was now lying face down as Kurt dabbed his cuts with antiseptic.

‘You shouldn’t leave him on his stomach,’ Justin said, as he entered.

Kurt shrugged. ‘These sores need attention.’

Justin lifted James’s eyelid. Only the white of his eye was visible. ‘Shit! He’s really out of it,’ he muttered.

‘He needs a doctor, man, the sooner the better.’

Kurt laid compresses over James’s back and ran a roll of surgical tape across them to hold them firm, then gently turned him over. Then he said they should take the boy straight to hospital.

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Justin snapped.

‘Justin, he’s real sick. Look at him! Christ only knows what he’s taken.’

‘I’ll make the decisions. Now get the hell out.’

As the door closed behind Kurt, Justin propped up James on his pillows and snapped open a bottle of poppers. He broke one and held it under his nose.

James heaved, gave a spluttering cough and his eyes fluttered open.

‘Breathe in, James, there’s a good boy, nice deep breaths. Gonna give you another.’

Max walked in. ‘Should you be doing that?’

Justin whipped round. ‘It’s just to bring him round. We’ve spoken to a doctor and he’s on his way.’

‘Should I fetch his parents?’ asked Max, concerned.

‘No, he’s coming to and I don’t want them to know the state he got himself into. You just piss off back to your room, there’s a good chap. You and your folks are leaving early tomorrow morning.’

Max hesitated. ‘Actually, I’m staying on.’

Justin straightened up. ‘Really? You’re having such a good time, are you?’

‘Yes, I am.’

Suddenly James began to cough, chest heaving. Justin sat him up further, shoving pillows behind him. ‘Good boy, that’s it.
Come on. Deep breaths, now.’ Justin turned to Max. ‘Shut the door as you leave.’

Again Max hesitated, then left. Justin split open yet another amyl nitrate capsule and pressed it beneath James’s nose. The boy gasped as his heart-rate soared. His arms flailed and his eyes rolled back. Justin felt his pulse, sat for a while then ran from the room.