Zip Gun Boogie (23 page)

32

A
s I finished folding my last clean shirt the telephone rang. I tried to ignore it, but its insistent tone got on my nerves. It just wouldn't stop. Eventually I picked it up. ‘What?' I said.

‘Nick, it's Ninotchka.'

‘Hi,' I said. ‘How are you doing?'

‘How do you think? Listen, I've got something you should hear.'

‘More rock and roll?'

‘No.'

‘What then?'

‘I don't know really, it's strange.'

‘How strange?'

‘Come up and hear it for yourself.'

‘OK,' I said, and hung up.

I put my cases by the door and walked upstairs to Ninotchka's suite. She was alone when she opened the door.

‘So what's up?' I asked.

‘You tell me.'

She went to the stereo and pushed the play button. I heard the fade to
Zip Gun Boogie,
and then a voice I recognised as Louis Pascall's. ‘…
So when do I get it, Keith
?' the voice said.

‘
I told you, it's sorted
,' said Pandora's voice in reply.

‘What the hell is this?' I said.

‘Just listen and you'll find out.'

‘
I'm not sure I like the way you operate.'
Pascall again.

‘
You never complained before
.'

‘
I know. But this is starting to get way out of hand.'

‘
No, man. No, it isn't.'

‘
I'm not so sure. Roger's brought in this guy Sharman.'

‘
The guy's a bum,'
said Pandora. ‘
A broken-down PI from the boonies, for Chrissake. Forget him. He's a fucking joke.'

‘
He did OK when he worked for McBain.'

‘
Dumb luck. I said, forget him.'

‘
OK. But I don't like it.'

‘
You don't like anything. Except money. The next time I'll do what needs doing. Then the insurance is mine, then it's yours, and I'm in the clear.'

‘
You know what they say, Keith. Once is cool, twice is queer. If the cops come in and start digging, you're up shit creek.'

‘
Don't you believe it. I've got the perfect fall guy.'

‘
Who? Turdo?'

‘
That jerk! It's the last time I trust him with anything. Getting cheap shit. No wonder it didn't do the job. And now the stupid bastard's guessed. No, I've got someone else in mind.'

‘
Who?'

‘
Never mind, you'll find out.'

‘
You'll screw up the band and the tour.'

‘
Fuck the tour! We're insured for that too. And I'm the fucking band, don't ever forget that. I've rebuilt it before and I'll rebuild it again.'

‘
I don't know, Keith.'

‘
Trust me…'
said Pandora, and the tape ended with a click.

I looked at Ninotchka. ‘Where did you get it?'

‘It was the one we picked up last week. Remember? I just got round to playing it.'

‘But how did that get on the tape?'

She shrugged. ‘How the hell do I know? Check with Tony at the studio.'

‘It's Saturday, Ninotchka.'

‘So what? The studio's open. Try it. Otherwise I've got his home number.'

‘I will,' I said, and pulled over the phone, got an outside line and dialled the number from Ninotchka's book which was next to it. The phone was answered on the third ring. I asked the switchboard if Tony Tune was in. The operator answered in the affirmative. I told her who I was and got put straight through.

‘Tony Tune,' said a male voice

‘Tony, it's Nick. Nick Sharman. I came in with Ninotchka to pick up a tape, remember? And I met you again at the reception for
The Miracle
.'

‘Sure I remember. How could I forget? Hi, Nick, what can I do for you? I thought I'd heard the last of
The Box
for a bit.' He paused for a beat. ‘Oops, sorry, I didn't mean it like that.'

‘Sure,' I said. ‘Listen, Tony, the tape we collected. When did you do it?'

‘How do you mean?'

‘When did you make the copy?'

‘Let me see,' he said. ‘The band came in Monday. That was the night that Trash got sick. Hell of a thing, wasn't it? I knew Bobby Boyle, you know.'

It was hard to be polite. ‘Yeah,' I said.

‘And you collected the tape when?'

‘Wednesday afternoon.'

‘Oh, sure. Tuesday night late, then. After everyone else had gone.'

‘Like who?'

‘Keith and that lawyer guy.'

‘Pascall?'

‘That's the fella. They came in to listen to some overdubs. I left them to it, and went for a drink. Fucking lawyers! What do they know?'

‘You'd be amazed,' I said.

‘These days nothing surprises me.'

‘Join the club. So it was definitely Tuesday night?'

‘Yessir. Well, the early hours of Wednesday, you know.'

‘I do,' I said. ‘What kind of tape did you use?'

There was a pause. ‘Did it fuck up? I didn't have any fresh tapes. That bloody tape-op of mine forgot to order any. Can you believe that? And everything else was locked up. So I used the first one I could lay my hands on. No good, huh?'

‘On the contrary. It's perfect. Thanks, Tony. I'll see you later.'

‘Look forward to it.' And we both hung up.

I looked at Ninotchka. ‘Thank God for incompetent tape-ops,' I said.

‘So I was right all along,' she said. ‘It wasn't Bobby, was it?'

‘Doesn't look like it.'

‘Poor Bobby. My God, that bastard Keith! He killed all those people, just for the insurance money.'

I said nothing.

‘Are you going to call the police?'

‘No,' I said. ‘I've been wanting a piece of Pandora since we met. Let's go play him some pretty music. I'll give him broken-down PI from the boonies, the son of a bitch!'

33

N
inotchka knocked on the door of Pandora's suite at precisely one o'clock. Not quite high noon, but close enough.

Louis Pascall answered. He ignored me and said: ‘Ninotchka?'

Someone mumbled something inside, and Pascall said, ‘Keith says not now.'

‘Now,' I said, and straight-armed the door. I caught him off balance, and the door burst open, and I pushed Ninotchka inside. Pandora was the only other person there. ‘Just the people we want to see,' I said.

Pandora wore tight jeans and cowboy boots with a western shirt. Pascall was wearing a blue button-down shirt that stretched tightly over his belly, and suit trousers. His jacket was draped over the back of the sofa. There were suitcases lined up neatly on the carpet. Through one of the open bedroom doors I saw two more cases on the bed. On the dining table was a leather Gladstone bag. Open.

‘I said, not now,' said Pandora. ‘Are you deaf?'

‘That's not very hospitable,' I said. ‘Especially to a lady.'

‘Sorry, Nin,' said Pandora. ‘It's been a tough week.'

‘Sure, Keith,' Ninotchka replied dryly. ‘I understand.'

‘I'll see you on the plane later,' he went on. ‘We'll talk up a storm then.'

‘Let's talk up a storm now,' I said.

‘For Christ's sake!' exploded Pandora to Pascall. ‘Do I have to take this shit?'

‘Why not see what they want?' said Pascall. ‘Then they'll go, I'm sure.'

‘Now that's how I always thought you rock and roll people would be,' I said. ‘Nice and friendly, and lots of fun.' I pushed past Pascall and went straight over to the bar. ‘Drink, Ninotchka?'

‘Sure. Vodka over.'

I made her a drink and one for myself. The same. The two men stood looking at us.

‘Well, now you've got a drink, maybe you'll explain exactly what it is you want?' said Pandora, getting on his high horse again.

‘We've got something for you to listen to,' I said.

‘Like what?'

‘Side two of your new album. Tony Tune recorded it for Ninotchka.'

Pandora looked bored. ‘I've heard it before.'

‘Are you sure?' I asked.

‘Sure I'm sure. Listen, I don't know what you're playing at, but I've heard the album many times and I don't particularly want to hear it again. I'm getting packed if you hadn't noticed. We've got a plane to catch.'

‘Your flight's not until seven,' I said. ‘You've got plenty of time. Besides, you're a VIP, Keith. You don't have to queue up with the riff-raff, do you? Anyway, I doubt if you'll be catching it. I hope you're insured for a no-show. I'm sure you are. You're very big on insurance, I hear.'

I could tell he was getting annoyed. He wasn't used to not getting his own way.

‘I don't know what you mean.'

‘Then listen to this.' I took the cassette out of my pocket and held it up for them to see.

‘I told you, I've heard it.'

‘But this has got a bonus track. Only available on this particular tape. The twelve-inch mix. Yeah, isn't that what you call it?'

‘Play it,' said Pascall. It was almost like he knew what was on it. Or at least knew that there was something on it that concerned him. Pandora sighed but didn't say anything. I went over to Keith's stereo. It was real fancy. More lights than Regent Street at Christmas time. But I figured it out. I put the tape into the machine and ran it back and found the end of the last track.

‘So?' said Pandora, as the recording reached the fade out. ‘That's the end of it.'

‘One second,' I said.

The song finished, and the short conversation began. When the tape deck clicked off Pascall looked well sick.

Pandora carried it off better. ‘So?' he said.

‘I would have thought it was obvious. You're discussing an attempted murder there. And a murder that was yet to happen.'

‘Bullshit!'

‘I wouldn't bet on it.'

‘I would,' he said.

‘You're betting a lot of prison time, Keith, and old Louis there doesn't look any too happy. A couple of hours in an interview room with a hairy-arsed London copper should get him singing better than you can.'

Pandora looked at Pascall. I think he got the picture.

‘Own up,' I said. ‘You were clever, but you messed up.'

‘No,' said Pandora.

‘Yes,' I said. ‘You got away with it before, didn't you?'

Both Pascall and Ninotchka looked at me. Pandora didn't.

‘You killed your bass player in Colorado and stuck his head under a truck. Was he the first?'

‘Jackie?' said Ninotchka.

‘That's right,' I said.

‘Give me a break,' said Pandora. ‘You're talking nonsense.'

‘Am I?'

‘I'd like to see you try and prove it. That was years ago.'

‘I don't have to prove it. We have the tape.'

‘Tapes can be faked,' said Pandora.

‘No,' said Ninotchka. ‘The tape wasn't faked, and you know that. Don't you, Keith?'

By this time Pascall was looking like a heart attack waiting to happen. His face was grey, and bubbles of greasy sweat had broken out on his forehead. ‘Christ, Keith, I knew this would happen.'

‘Shut up, you fucker!' snarled Pandora. ‘They can't prove zip.'

‘But they can stop us leaving. If the police start more questions, I don't think I can handle it.'

‘You prick,' said Pandora, and reached his hand into the Gladstone bag and pulled out a nickel-plated Colt Diamondback revolver with a short barrel and ventilated rib.

‘Put that away,' I said. ‘Someone's liable to get hurt.'

He stuck it in my direction. ‘You,' he said, ‘don't move.'

‘I'm not going anywhere,' I said back.

‘Are you armed?'

‘No.'

‘You should have been. That was a mistake.'

‘Not half as big a mistake as you're making,' I replied. But it was. A lot bigger.

‘Search him,' said Pandora to Pascall. He moved towards me. For one moment I thought he was going to step into Pandora's line of fire, and give me a chance.

‘Go round behind him,' barked Pandora. Pascall hesitated then did as he was told.

‘You'll never get away with this,' I said as Pascall clumsily frisked me.

Pandora smiled. I didn't blame him. The line was out of a thousand bad movies.

‘He's clean,' said Pascall when he'd finished.

‘So what now?' I said.

‘Now you kill Louis and Ninotchka, and then yourself. I'll swear I tried to stop you. I'll be broken-hearted. You loved her, but she loved another. The papers will lap it up.'

Pascall's mouth dropped open. You don't often see that, but it happened.

‘Grand opera,' I said into the silence. ‘No, soap opera. No one's going to buy that, Keith. Are you crazy?' He didn't answer, but by the look on his face he was. Just a little. Anyone who gets his own way all the time is, I suppose. Maybe disappointment keeps you sane. Or maybe anything can drive you crazy in the end.

‘You can't…' said Pascall, and Pandora gut shot him. Pascall looked disbelievingly first at Pandora and then down at the neat hole just above his belt buckle. He touched the wound experimentally, opened his mouth to say something, but just let out a sound halfway between a belch and a moan and fell like a rubber man on to the carpet in front of us. Ninotchka screamed, but cut it off when Pandora looked at her through slitted eyes.

‘You've blown it, Keith,' I said. I hope I said it with more confidence than I felt. By my calculations I was the next in line to be dealt with. I just hoped I could get him to talk for a bit and that someone in the hotel had heard the shot.

‘No,' he replied. ‘
You've
blown it. You blew it coming up here. You should have taken that tape to the police.'

That was two mistakes I'd made. Two too many.

‘I'm sorry, Nin, I never wanted to hurt you,' he said.

‘Thanks, Keith,' replied Ninotchka. ‘That makes me feel heaps better.'

Pandora shrugged.

‘And more insurance money for Keith. It just keeps rolling in, doesn't it?' I said.

Pandora showed his big teeth in a grin and I dearly wished I'd kicked him in the head the time I'd had a chance. ‘So how did it go, Keith?' I asked.

‘What do you mean?'

‘Did Bobby Boyle come to you, or did you go to him?'

‘He came to me.'

‘Handy that, the same time that you screwed up killing Shapiro.'

‘No. He'd been bugging me ever since we got here.'

‘What did he want?' asked Ninotchka.

‘His old job back. Drummer with the band. What a joke!'

‘The joke was on him, wasn't it?' I said.

‘It sure was. He even brought a pair of sticks with him so he could audition.'

‘And one of them got hammered into Turdo.'

‘That's right.'

‘So tell me, did he do the murders or did you?'

‘I did of course. Bobby wouldn't hurt a fly. He was just useful to have around.'

‘To act as the fall guy. Just like you said on the tape.'

‘Correct.'

‘But, Keith, if he'd been arrested, don't you think he might have mentioned your involvement? If only in passing?' The bastard was so pleased with himself he only needed the odd prompt to keep him going.

‘Are you serious? He didn't know
what
the fuck was going on. He was totally crazed. He was on another fucking
planet,
man. And even if something had got through to whatever he had between his ears instead of a brain, who would have believed him anyway? The guy had been in and out of the funny farm for years. He was a certified lunatic. Who do
you
think they would have believed? All that would have happened was that they'd've stuck him back in the rubber room where he belonged. It was just a bonus you two helped him take a dive. Got him out of my hair.'

Literally the fall guy, I thought. ‘A stroke of luck for you really,' I said.

‘That's right.'

‘Not for him.'

Pandora shrugged again.

‘You bastard,' said Ninotchka through bloodless lips, and for a moment I thought she was going to go for him. So did he, and he turned the gun towards her. I caught her arm. ‘Don't.' I said.

‘Good advice,' said Pandora, smirking.

I ignored the comment. ‘And it almost worked too,' I said.

‘It's still working.'

‘No,' I replied. ‘It's all over, Keith. Give up.'

‘No, it's not.'

‘There'll be too many questions asked.'

‘I'll be long gone by then.'

‘If you really believe that, then you
are
fucked, son.'

He shook his head. ‘Long gone,' he said, again, almost dreamily.

‘Keith, what
are
you on?' asked Ninotchka.

‘Just his own damned ego,' I commented.

Pandora grunted angrily and his eyes focused as he remembered where he was and what he was doing, and the gun that had been drooping slightly in his hand came up again. That was dangerous. I had to keep him talking. Play for time.

‘And it was you that got Valin to get rid of his security and his girlfriend the night he was killed?' I asked.

‘Correct again. I told him I had to see him privately on band business, and not to tell anyone else.'

‘And then you choked him?'

Pandora nodded again.

‘For the insurance money?'

‘That's right.'

‘But why kill Elmo? What had he done apart from supplying lousy drugs?'

‘He sussed out what was going on. Turdo must have said something. Not as stupid as he looked, was Elmo. He tried to put the black on me. Threatened to go to the cops. No chance. He was expecting a nice little bonus that night in the swimming pool. But he got more than he bargained for. And it would all have worked out nice if it hadn't been for you two. Everyone thought him and Turdo were killed by a lunatic with a grudge against the band.

‘He was. You,' I said. ‘But poor Bobby got the starring role in
that
movie.'

‘Right,' he said, and as he did so the outside door to the suite opened and Andrea Batiste walked in. She stood disbelievingly in the doorway looking at us, and Pandora walked over and grabbed her arm and pulled her in. Never letting the barrel of the gun waver for a second.