‘Now, you,’ the bouncer said, standing over me, ‘are going to fuck off and never darken these doors again. Comprende?’
‘You tell him, Carl,’ Rocco said. ‘Bastard just lost me three K.’
‘That true?’ he asked. I was too winded to answer. ‘Then I think Rocks is due some compensation.’
He reached into my inside pocket and took out my wallet. After having bunged Michael at La Cage, it wasn’t bulging at the seams. ‘Forty fucking quid,’ he said. ‘Cheap cunt.’
‘Cheers, Carl,’ Rocco said, and took the notes off him.
‘Now, the best thing you can do is keep your nose out of other people’s business,’ the bouncer said. ‘Because next time you might not get off so lightly.’
He chucked my wallet at me before he and Rocco re-entered the building. The security bars clicked closed and I was left alone with my thoughts. I’d been strangled, humiliated and robbed, all within the space of an hour. The worst thing, though, was that I felt a sense of complete helplessness. Rocco had fucked me over and there was nothing I could do about it.
Well, almost nothing.
My old man used to say that it was unwise to act in anger; far better to sleep on things and make a considered decision in the morning. It’s one of the few of his homilies that I’ve tended to follow in life. But when their blood is up, people tend not to reach for parental axioms. I was no exception.
From my wallet I took a card and tapped the number it carried into my phone. My call was answered on the second ring.
‘Farrelly, it’s Kenny Gabriel. You said to call if I needed help.’
‘Go on.’
‘I think Rocco might know something about Harry. Trouble is, I can’t get to him.’
‘Why not?’
I told Farrelly about the CCTV footage at La Cage and events at the Pit. ‘Where are you now?’ he asked.
‘In an alley at the back of the club.’
‘Be out front in twenty minutes.’
While waiting, I chain-smoked four Marlboros and reflected on what a dumb move I’d made. Almost forty years ago, Farrelly had been mayhem incarnate. No way was he going to best an eighteen-stone bouncer at sixty. Even if he did, what was he going to do afterwards? Stride into the Pit and walk out with Rocco over his shoulder?
I was fingering a lump on my head, where it had connected with the steel bin, when a silver saloon pulled up. I’d half expected Farrelly to be driving a hearse. His ride turned out to be an eight-year-old Toyota.
‘You look like shit,’ was the first thing he said.
‘Yeah, I know,’ I replied. ‘Look, I’m really sorry but I shouldn’t have called you. I don’t see what you can do. All due respect but the doorman’s a man mountain.’
‘On his own, is he?’
‘Yeah, but he’s like two bouncers rolled into one.’
Farrelly sniffed a couple of times and said, ‘In the car.’
I was surprised that he’d seen sense so easily. Even more so that he might be giving me a lift home. I got into the passenger seat and closed the door. Farrelly reached for his phone. He tapped the screen a few times and then held it to his ear.
‘That the Snake Pit? . . . Yeah, well, I’m standing outside your club, love, and there’s smoke coming out of the roof. I’d hit the alarm, if I were you. Probably nothing but you don’t want a disaster on your hands.’
Fifteen seconds later, bells started ringing. A minute after that, people began to emerge from the front door and congregate on the opposite side of the street.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked. Farrelly ignored the question.
‘When you see Rocco, point him out.’
‘That’s him in the Stetson,’ I said.
‘You sure? There’s a couple of other blokes in hats.’
‘Positive.’
‘Right, get in the back and stay out of sight.’
‘Why? What are you going to do?’
‘Stop asking fucking questions and do what I fucking well tell you,’ Farrelly said, sounding more like his old self by the minute.
I got out on the blind side of the car and re-entered it via the rear door. From there I watched as Farrelly approached Rocco. After thirty seconds’ conversation, they began walking across the road. I slid down in the seat. The front doors opened and closed. The central locking slammed on.
‘Worried I might do a runner?’ Rocco asked.
‘Nope,’ said Farrelly, starting the engine.
‘Aren’t you guys all meant to have meters now? I thought the Met had started coming down on unlicensed cabs.’
‘They gave me a special permit,’ Farrelly said as we picked up speed.
‘What sort of permit?’ Rocco asked.
‘This sort.’
I sat up and saw that Farrelly had his left hand on the wheel. In his right was a small, nickel-plated gun pointed at Rocco’s midriff.
‘Is this a joke?’ he asked.
‘Am I laughing?’ Farrelly replied.
‘If you want money, take this.’ Rocco unclipped his Rolex and held it out. ‘It’s kosher. You’d get two grand, no problem.’
‘I don’t want your poxy watch.’
‘What do you want?’
‘To know why you were with Harry Parr the night before she died,’ I said.
Rocco’s head whipped round. ‘You?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Me.’
‘Look, man, things got a bit out of hand back there,’ Rocco said, fear marbling his voice. ‘Let me give you your money back and a few quid extra . . .’
‘Why did you lie about Harry?’ I asked.
‘She didn’t like anyone knowing she went to La Cage. And when I talked to you, I didn’t know she was . . . I didn’t know what had happened to her.’
‘Bullshit. You killed her.’
‘Me! Are you serious?’
‘Just answer the fucking question,’ was Farrelly’s contribution. He’d returned the gun to the driver’s door compartment. Rocco could have leant across him and made a grab for it, but I didn’t think he was the type. Clearly Farrelly didn’t either.
‘Someone called her and she said she had to leave,’ Rocco said. ‘I was pissed off because it was her idea to go to La Cage in the first place.’
‘She didn’t say who the caller was?’
‘No. If you don’t believe me, call the cops. I gave them all this when they pulled me in.’
‘Yeah, they’ll tell us all about it,’ Farrelly said. ‘Probably fax over a copy of your statement as well.’
‘Did Harry meet anyone out of the ordinary?’ I asked Rocco.
‘Of course she did. The place is a fucking freak show. That’s the whole point in going there.’
‘I mean anyone who took a particular interest in her.’
‘Look, Harry calls me for the first time in weeks and says she wants to meet up and have a laugh. I tell her that I’m not really up for La Cage, but she says that she’ll sub me a few hundred and score us both some toot.’
‘Did Harry take drugs often?’
‘Only when she needed to relax.’
‘How did she seem that night?’
‘I don’t know. A bit wound up, maybe, but she was usually like that. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.’
‘Did you use the dark rooms?’
‘H said she didn’t fancy it. We watched a show, did a few lines and had a drink. Then she took the call and said she had to go.’
‘No mention of who it was?’ Rocco shook his head. ‘Did you ask?’
‘Course I did. She just said that she had to be somewhere.’