And steal your wallet at the same time.
I laughed. And what about you?
Grew up in Pinner. So this is all Ive known.
You ever been up north?
A week in the Lakes once, and a hen night in Blackpool.
The best and the worst in two visits. Youve done well.
She laughed, her eyes twinkling. How about you? You seem to have settled okay.
No one settles in London. It moves too fast.
So you started bugging off-duty police officers?
I smiled at that, just about stopped a blush.
Thats how I had met Laura, trying to build up police sources, drinking in the pubs where the police hung out. Id spotted Laura on the edge of a group of detectives. When it was her turn to buy the drinks, I got talking.
Id tried the flirt at first, we were around the same age, but I got nowhere. She had a husband and a child, and she wasnt going to risk any of that. So I gave it to her straight. If she wanted her cases to make the news, if she wanted to have some control over how they were told, she ought to use me.
And she did. I snapped her arrests, got the inside track on her cases. She told me that she used me to get her cases in the headlines. I told her that I was doing the same thing.
Laura looked around and I watched her eyes dance. I felt that spark of interest again. I watched her fingers wipe at the condensation on her glass, a gentle stroke. But then I felt a jolt when I looked down at her hand. Her wedding ring had gone.
When she looked back towards me, she pointed towards my laptop. Hows the story?
Slow. I might not file it, I said, but I was distracted, wondering what had happened to her marriage.
Can I read it?
I shrugged. Why not?
Laura looked at the screen for a while and then turned back to me. You write well. Why do you just work the crime stories?
Its a good life. No one owns me.
Dont you fancy the salary, nice and regular?
I shook my head. Ive been there. I lifted my bottle towards her. Youre looking good. Family life looking after you?
Lauras toughness, that cop façade, was swept away by a blush.
Same as always, she replied. Too much time at work, and then too much time hating my ex-husband.
How long has he been an ex? I tried to sound innocent, a friendly enquiry, but it stumbled out all clumsy. I felt my pulse quicken as I asked.
Since I caught him with a probationer, except that she wasnt wearing much of the uniform. She looked sad for a moment. Never marry a copper.
I didnt reply at first, but then we both started to say something and then stopped, grinning, like new lovers banging noses.
No, go on, I said.
She looked bashful for a few seconds, and then said, I need your help, Jack, with information.
That surprised me. Our relationship had a pattern. I reported crime. Laura told me about crime. It didnt go the other way.
I nodded, curious. Go on.
We need to know about Dumas. We want to know about his lifestyle, his secrets, anything that could lead to a blackmail, or a murder.
We all know everything there is to know about Dumas, I said. You cant open a paper without seeing him or his fiancée doing something newsworthy, like walking or talking.
I dont mean that rubbish. I mean the real stories, the ones that dont get into the paper.
I knew what Laura meant. The papers often held on to scandals when they got them, on the promise from worried agents that theyd get the best access to whichever celebrity it was. If a rival got hold of it, the story was run just to strike a blow at the competition.
I can make some calls, try and find something out, but this is quid pro quo.
She held out her hands. Name it.
What did you find at the house?
Laura stalled at that.
Cmon, Laura, the television had police swarming into a house just a few doors from mine.
She looked at me guardedly. This is off the record?
I shrugged.
She sighed. Estate agents, there for an appointment, both dead, with a snipers view of where Dumas queued for his last latte.
I exhaled. So you found where the shots came from?
She nodded. Looks that way.
So you can trace who had the appointment?
Thats the theory.
How did they die?
He died from a gunshot, point blank. The woman was strangled.
I raised my eyebrows. Unusual?
It was Lauras turn to shrug. In her career, shed seen things I couldnt even imagine.
So the shooters killing off the witnesses? I asked. Why are you keeping it quiet?
Were not. Were going public soon, but we wanted to do the forensic sweep first.
I sat back. It sounded interesting, but I wasnt sure it fitted my story.
What was Dumas doing there?
That, she replied, is what we are trying to find out.
Do you think it might have been just chance? You know, Dumas in the wrong place?
Not sure. The bodies in the flat made it seem professional, planned, which is a lot of trouble for a random shooting. The shooter would just shoot, if it was random.
So if it was a set-up, you should be able to find that out.
Laura smiled. Hey, youre sharp!
My eyes twinkled at her. I was just thinking about what else to ask, really just to keep her there, when she asked, How quickly can you find anything out?
When I looked uncertain, she said, This is the golden hour, the time when any evidence has to be captured. We might get a lead in a few days, but any forensic evidence from the scene will be long gone by then.
No pressure then.
She smiled, and any resistance I had melted.
Ill see what I can do.
And as I picked up my phone, she slid out of her seat. I was about to start dialling when she leant forward and I felt a soft peck on my cheek.
Thanks, Jack. Its good to see you again. Call me as soon as you find something.
I smiled, had to stop myself from putting my hand where the kiss had been.
Youve got my number, I said. Not just for work. Anything.
It was her turn to blush, but I saw a glimmer of a smile as I watched her walk out.
David Watts was at the front of his apartment building, facing cameras and reporters. They had been outside there for a few hours, hungry for a quote.
I just want to say that I knew Henri Dumas. He was a good player. No, a great player but above all of that, he was a good man, and football will miss him. Ill miss him. I would like to express my condolences to his family, and Im sure the footballing world is in deep mourning right now.
And at that, he went back into his building. He didnt feel good. His words sounded irrelevant when he thought about Dumas; just a token footnote. Dumas was dead. Who cared about his condolences?
When he got back to his apartment, he saw the parental look of his agent. She watched the press disappear from the window, and then turned back to the room.
That will get you good billing on the news, remind everyone that youre the statesman of English football.
He shook his head at her. Karen Klavan. She was a good agent, but she was one cold-hearted bitch. She looked like a pin-up, blonde hair and breasts like weapons, but he guessed that when she fucked, she did it with a motive, not a passion.
He shook his head at her. Karen Klavan. She was a good agent, but she was one cold-hearted bitch. She looked like a pin-up, blonde hair and breasts like weapons, but he guessed that when she fucked, she did it with a motive, not a passion.
Someone died today, Karen. Doesnt that mean anything?
It means you get a chance to raise your profile. When she saw the look of disgust, she said, You worry about Dumas, and Ill worry about making you money.
He would have smiled normally. Her directness gave her an edge in negotiations, but he wasnt in the mood. And as he looked over to the billboards again, as he thought about the gossip magazines for sale in the shop just down the road, as he imagined all the children wandering around the country with his name on the back of their shirts, he reckoned his profile was pretty high already. He didnt want to use Dumass death to raise it higher. The thought of it sickened him.
I think we should look respectful, take some time out, he said, his anger snapping the words out.
Yeah, yeah, that too, but look, Ive got you a slot on breakfast television, to talk about Dumas. Is that okay? It wont clash with your training.
He shook his head. She made him money, but she made him mad as well.
Ill end up tired at training.
The country will forgive you if youre jaded. In fact, they might be furious with you if you look bright and bubbly when you play.
I take it Dumas wasnt one of your clients.
Can you hear me sobbing? No, he was with that prick Newcombe.
And then she laughed.
Laughs didnt come naturally to her, so when they came, they came loud and shrill.
Hell be crying into his vodka tonight, she said, ignoring Davids look. When he didnt respond, she said, Youll be picked up at five. Be up and ready, dressed soberly.
Where will you be?
Oh, out and about. Ive some new clients to see, so Ill be away for a couple of days. Ill keep in touch.
If you leave it a bit longer, youll be able to dance on Dumass grave.
She winked at him and then picked up her bag, not bothering with goodbye. She could tell he was angry. Worse than that, though, was the thought that she didnt care. He was just an asset, and she had him tied into an agency agreement. He was twenty-eight, so he didnt have too long left at the top. In a few years time, when some younger star started to grab the headlines and his hamstrings were ripped to hell, shed shunt him off her books as quick as one of his crosses.
When the door clicked shut David turned back to the window, hoping that the view would make him forget about Karen Klavan. He knew she didnt care about him. He wasnt sure she cared about anybody.