Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

Twenty-Six Years Ago

The club is dark and sleazy, like most of its customers; perhaps denizens would be a better description. Occupied by the lost and those wishing to be so, the unwanted and the unwantable, it caters to those not wanting to be noticed by the passing world, or those the passing world will perhaps see, but then look away from.

The bouncer looks askance at the blue uniform, moving from his spot in front of a luridly-coloured poster of young women of unlikely proportions and appeal. He stands to block the entrance, then jolts back as he recognizes the face at the top. “Sorry, Corby. Didn’t realise it was you for a minute there.”

“’S fine Pat. Just let me through.”

“You expected?”

“Yup.”

“Should I send ahead?”

“Nope.”

Inside, Corby grimaces at the mix of sweat, smoke and stale air. Sweeping a view through a blue haze over the hunched shoulders of solo drinkers, past the gawpers ogling the stripper under the spotlight, he settles on the shadowed nooks at the far end of the bar.

A figure half hidden in the gloom raises a glass towards him. Bech pushes back his cap then strolls across, taking a seat at the table. He ignores the startled glances of those he passes. In any case, as they see who he is sitting with, they look away again.

“Drink?” Enrico Romani raises a finger to the barman who heads smartly across the floor.

The cop lounges in the seat, carefully not touching the scummy-looking table top. “Thanks, no. Business, not pleasure.”

Romani awards him a cool look, waving the hovering barman away again. “I took that as read… So, what can I do for you, Corby? You’ve got the wrong brother for your line of work. Guido handles the women. I’m on the enforcement end of the business. You know that.”

“Yes, I know that. But that’s not why I asked you here. In fact, I have something for you. A little gift that I think your father will appreciate.”

Enrico cocks a brow, the expression twisted by a scar acquired no doubt during one of his enforcement activities. “Oh? And what would that be?”

court? Is the prosecutor…. Max Devlin is it? ….

why would

you have been trying to access Mr Devlin… during

in his seat. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely… No good though. He’s locked down tight. Twenty-four-seven protection, mirrors under vehicles, whole fuckin’ courtesy-guard on

To get him away from all that… Something to tempt him out to play.” He pushes a slip of

down, slides it up and open, then reads… “An

of Chief Prosecutor, Max Devlin. The father might be under tight security, but

face, stretching the scar.

that I don’t appreciate this, but what’s in it for you? What does Officer Corby

just say that the Romani family owes me one. No doubt I’ll be able to call on your

Devlin done to upset

where it doesn’t belong. Let’s leave it at that

“So, you want my family to

I don’t hear you

“Thanks, Corby.

“I appreciate that.”

watches as Romani leaves, his

less problem to

*****

Charlotte

mirror, knotting his tie. His reflected eyes pass to me. “I’m going on-site this morning, Charlotte. You want to

to. What’s

be down by the area of

“Your bridge…”

you say,

“So, what’s happening?”