Masters & Lovers Box Set Three
Chapter 29
Twenty-Six Years Ago
A cop in blue uniform enters the bar. “Would you be Angelo?”
The barman pauses in swiping a towel through a glass, brow wrinkling. “That’s me, yes. Something I can do for you?”
“I’m looking for a woman who frequents here. Goes by the name of Mitch.”
The brow uncreases, his expression flattening. “Mitch? Barely seen her the last few weeks.”
“When did you last see her?”
Angelo pays strict attention to his polishing. “Couldn’t say.” His cloth works tight circles over the glass.
Taking off his sunglasses, the cop props elbows on the bar. “We know that she hangs out here, soliciting.”
The circles slow. “She never did any soliciting that I saw. I mean, she knew how to pull a guy, but that’s different altogether isn’t it? Nothing illegal there.” The barman bends to his work again, concentrating on some ingrained speck on perfectly polished glass.
The cop drums fingers on the bar-top, saying nothing; the kind of silence that sucks out the words. After a minute, the drumming morphs to a single fingernail tap-tapping…
Angelo places the glass on a high shelf; reaches for another. “Look… however Mitch earned her living before, I think she’s off it. I’m pretty sure she’s met a guy that… Well, I think they’re an item. Y’know what I mean?”
“I’m not here about her soliciting. We’ve had word that she’s pushing.”
The glass drops, smashing as it hits hard tiles.
Angelo curses, flushes, then stoops under the bar to reappear with brush and dustpan. As he sweeps up splinters, “Mitch? A pusher? Nah… She has no time for drugs. She stays clean herself and she wouldn’t touch anyone else who went near them either.”
Lazy-eyed, the cop drawls, “That’s not what we’re being told.”
“You’re being told wrong. You’ve got the wrong woman.”
“In that case, she has nothing to worry about, has she? Where do we find her?”
“Couldn’t say.”
The cop leans forward, lowering his voice. “Tell me, does the hotel management know about your little arrangement with her? Using their premises?” Crouched down by the floor, Angelo stiffens. “How does it work? You cover for her, give her a safe environment, point her to empty rooms, and she gives you a cut…? Am I on the right track here?”
The barman says nothing, straightening up to tip broken glass into the trash.
“I thought so. I’m guessing your bosses wouldn’t be too happy if they knew about your little sideline on their premises eh?” The cop leans in further. “Look, I’m not interested in you. It’s her we’re looking for. All I want is her address. After that, my interest in you is exhausted. You understand me?”
Angelo’s face sets then falls. Blinking, he snags a notepad from under the counter, scrawling a couple of lines, then pushes it at the cop.
“Phone number too.”
Angelo scribbles another line…
“And her full name.”
… and then another.
“That will do nicely.” The cop scans the note; points with a yellowed fingernail. “Is that an eight or a three?”
“A three.”
“Thank you.” The cop touches his cap... “Have a good day.” … and leaves.
Angelo stares after him, then down at the bar. After a moment he reaches for a bottle, pours a stiff measure and knocks it back.
Pushing?
Mitch?
He heads for the phone, dials, waits…
… then curses as it clicks to ansaphone…
His voice low, “Mitch, it’s Angelo. If you’re listening, pick up the phone… Mitch are you there? Pick up the phone. It’s urgent…”
Crickets…
He curses under his breath then, “Mitch, I don’t know what’s happening, but the police are looking for you. They say you’re dealing in drugs…. I’m… I’m sorry. I had to give them your address.”
He hangs up the receiver, then resting his forehead against the wall, closes his eyes.
*****
Twenty-Six Years Ago
In her apartment…
… Her old apartment…
… Her own apartment…
… Mitch paces endlessly.
one he says is hers,
that how
Tempts them in?
?
Why bother?
Surely there’re easier ways?
through
The girls…
Chained…
Crying…
Trapped…
tumbles. Vomit
The police?
Would they believe her?
?
?
He’s important… Powerful…
He must have connections…
Someone must know….
Who?
to quake; to surrender to the panic that threatens to
No!
of pain behind her eyes swells. Nausea rises
a couple
Sticking plaster over the
peppermint tea. Back in the lounge, cradling the mug in her hands,
Would wine be better?
And a hot bath…
head, then decide what
get them
bathroom, she sets hot water running, pours in
her. Loud enough to block out the world.
Red or white?
White…
door to keep in the heat and the scent. Sinking into
lounge, her
*****
bath helps.
panic that threatened to overwhelm her is
she
Who would believe her?
sidelong to her
and she extracts a card-file,
Who does she know?
is more than just a
influence that people
herself another small glass of the wine, then opens the file,
Accountant…
Businessman…
Priest…
low down
She pauses at one…
Lawyer…
Then swings her head…
time…
… and replaces it.
Another…
judge… Jay… Nice. Likes her. He’ll believe
No phone number…
air, she slots
she takes, she
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