Cold Blood

Chapter 8

It was 11.30 p.m., already the third night of the investigation, and Lorraine was not as confident as she had led Rosie to believe. She gave herself the critical eye; she was wearing a short black dress, secondhand naturally, but with its Donna Karan label, she knew it had once been expensive. She had also acquired, from the daughter of the Hispanics living in the apartment below, a pair of red platform high-heeled shoes. The black stockings were her own. She had washed her hair, still unsure about the new cut, and was just wondering if she should put even more make-up on when there was a knock on the door.

Rosie had got a ride home from her meeting and was sitting in front of the television with a bowl of grapes.

‘Come in, it’s open.’

‘Hi, is she ready?’ Nick said loudly.

Rosie nodded, and used the remote control to switch the TV off. ‘What’s this Viper Club like then?’

Nick sauntered in. ‘Viper Room, you don’t call it a club, Rosie. Is she for real then?’

Rosie shrugged. Lorraine walked in and Nick tried not to over-react, because she looked so different. ‘My, my, we are pulling out the stops.’

Lorraine looked at him. ‘Wish I could say the same for you, you rolled out of bed to get here?’

‘I most surely did. So this is on, is it?’

‘You think I got dressed up like this for fun?’

‘Turns me on, I think it’s the shoes. Man, you gotta be six foot in them.’

Lorraine put on a pair of shades and waved at Rosie. ‘See you. Come on, Nick, let’s go.’ She peered at his denim jacket. ‘Holy shit, you got dog hairs all over you.’

‘Well, I would, I got a dog. G’night, Rosie.’

Nick glanced over the note found in Anna Louise Caley’s bedroom. He said nothing as he passed it back to Lorraine. He was still taken aback by her appearance, and when she leaned close to him, he got an erection. It annoyed him that she could make him react to her so physically.

‘I want to find out who this guy Polar is. She had matches from the Viper Room so we’ll start there. And there were other matchbooks from On the Rox and...’

‘Look, no need to explain, we’ll suss it out, okay?’ He seemed irritated and she didn’t have the slightest inkling that it was because he found her so attractive. They turned on to Sunset and drove past the flash parade of yuppie wannabe Hell’s Angels on their shiny chrome bikes, past the neon-lit zone, the hookers and the pimps, past the open-fronted bars and cafés, until he pulled over into a vacant parking bay outside a sleazy joint called Alfredo’s Live Striptease.

‘We’re here?’ Lorraine asked.

‘Nope, but I need to see a friend. Just hang in there, I’ll be a couple of seconds.’

Nick hopped out of the jeep and went into the strip joint. Lorraine waited with Tiger’s hot, panting breath wafting past her face.

‘Sit back a bit, you stink.’

He looked duly miffed and squatted back, then the sides of his huge mouth lifted and he gave a low growl.

‘Hey, sit on my knee if it makes you happy, just don’t bite me.’

She heard the thud-thud of his tail as it whacked against his food bowl. There was no growl, but his lip curled up to reveal his teeth and it looked like he was smiling, which made Lorraine laugh.

‘Good boy. I could get to like you, you know that?’

And she really believed she could when two drunk, leather-clad bikers stumbled against the jeep and one looked in, sneering, to ask, ‘How much?’

Tiger went for the jugular, fast, and the biker reeled off, scared shitless.

Lorraine reached out and patted his big head. ‘Nice one.’

‘Winning you over, is he?’ Nick said as he opened the driver’s door. He started up the engine. ‘Okay, I got our calling card so maybe we can get in... But if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, you’re the wrong side of thirty and there are not a lot of chicks in there over twenty. Guys can get in any age so long as they’re famous an’ their wallets’re heavy. Still, we’ll have a go.’

They drove out into the night traffic and Lorraine asked if Nick had some movie star contact. He laughed, shaking his head. ‘Nah! Feel in my pocket, I’ve gone one better.’

She slipped her hand into his denim jacket and pulled out a plastic bag. ‘Nick, what you playin’ at?’

‘Cocaine, well, some of it, rest is scouring powder. You ain’t somebody unless you have something that the somebodies want, right?’

‘You mean you just scored this?’

‘Nope, well, in a way. Remember me tellin’ you about Fisher?’

‘Yes, but...’

‘Tony T. Loredo owns that dive. I busted him in eighty-five but I did him a favour. Since then he’s come up in the world, and he supplies young meat, chicks, dope, you name it, to the movie stars. I’m gonna use him as an intro. All right with you?’

They pulled up outside the Viper Room’s dark, nondescript entrance; the only indications that it was a club were the heavy-duty bouncers on the door and the stretch limos pulling up and moving off as their clients staggered into the venue.

Nick leaned out of the jeep and called out to one of the bouncers. ‘Hey, man, gimme an ear, will ya?’ He turned back to Lorraine. ‘Bend your head forwards, look like you’re out of it, cover your face with your hair. Do it!’ The bouncer came up closer. ‘Keep your distance, I got a mad dog in the back and a real one beside me... I also got some merchandise Tony said he wants me to deliver.’

The bouncer stared at Lorraine, then at Nick, who eased out his bag a fraction. The bouncer stepped back, nodding, and pointed for Nick to park up a way down the road.

‘Right, we’re in...’

‘In’ blew Lorraine’s mind. The main club room was so dark she could hardly see and the music was so loud it was deafening. She tried as best she could to see through the darkness. She focused on a young girl wearing black bra and panties, and fish-net stockings. ‘You think she maybe had a dress on when she arrived?’ she said to Nick, but he was looking around. He then turned back and leaned in close.

‘Over to your right, clutch of supermodels.’ Nick pointed up above them. ‘That’s a room with a two-way mirror on to the dance floor. Some of ’em get a kick out of screwing up there on top of all these assholes. Still, takes all kinds...’

‘Yeah, and maybe Anna Louise Caley was one of them. How do we go about it?’

Nick shrugged. ‘I think we’re wasting our time. Come on, that note you found in the girl’s bedroom is juvenile dementia, a kid writing dirty, so what?’

‘It might mean something if we track down this guy Polar.’

Nick signalled to a waiter. She could feel he was edgy, his eyes darting around all the time. He searched in his pockets and took out a picture of Anna Louise.

‘You got any cash on you? Like fifties, ten bucks no good, I need a few big notes.’ Lorraine opened her purse and he suddenly leaned in close and whispered to her, ‘Head down and stoned, sweetheart.’

She looked up as a waiter closed in on Nick. ‘Hi, man, gimme a Mexican and a Diet Coke. Hey, a second.’

The waiter leaned forward.

‘I need to get shot of this.’ Nick jerked his thumb at Lorraine, and then winked at the waiter. ‘My friend Tony, Loredo T., wants to know if this chick’s been in. Reason is she owes him, understand? Lot of dough. And if you can tip him off, there’s something in it for you...’ Nick drew out the plastic bag. ‘Worth fifteen big ones... all yours. Act real cool about it, man, but I need to know if she used to hang out down here.’

‘Sure, a Mexican beer and one Coke.’ The waiter took the photo without looking at it and two fifty dollar notes with a nice swift move so they were hidden under his tray.

Lorraine hissed. ‘A hundred bucks, Nick, are you crazy?’

He kept looking around the dark dance floor where a girl was stripping; nobody seemed all that interested. ‘That’s shit, some of these kids drop ten, fifteen thousand bucks a night down here. I’m gonna take a leak, you okay to hang out on your own?’

She turned away. ‘I been in places a lot worse than this.’

He leaned close. ‘This is class, sweetheart. Won’t be long.’

He was away at least twenty minutes. Lorraine watched the stoned kids, some openly snorting coke. One girl was so high she sat with her legs apart in a stupor. As guys walked past her, they groped her and all she could do was just about hold her head straight.

Lorraine got up and headed for the restroom. She was pushed and jostled, and saw more lines of coke laid out and young teenage girls huddled together, wearing as little as possible. Lorraine felt old; not that anyone bothered even to look in her direction, they were too intent on getting noticed by one or other of the ‘stars’.

Nick had still not shown when she made her way back to where she had been sitting, but the seats were now occupied by a couple on the verge of copulating, so she picked up her glass and turned away. She took a gulp, then freaked because it wasn’t straight Coke, it had rum in it, and a lot of it, mixed with God knows what else.

The alcohol hit her throat like a fireball. She swallowed. It took a lot of will-power to put the glass down but she did. She edged away and was pushed against the wall by a group of guys dancing with each other. She pressed her back hard against the suedette wall, could feel the panic starting and wished Nick would show. Her dress clung to her as she broke out in sweat, the heat stifling, the thudding music overpowering — but not as hard to ignore as her need to finish the drink.

‘Where’s your friend?’ the waiter hissed, and she turned to be blinded by spinning spotlights. ‘He in the John? Or upstairs? Don’t look at me, act like I’m taking your order.’

She closed her eyes, sweat trickling down her body. She swallowed, her mouth felt rancid.

Nick appeared right behind the waiter. ‘Hey, man, you got a guy fuckin’ a chick in the John.’

‘So? Listen, I can be out the back door in ten, my break’s due, okay?’

Nick nodded, and as the waiter took off he grinned at Lorraine. ‘Quite a show in there.’

‘Get me out of here, Nick.’

He laughed. ‘What? Can’t take it? But you said you...’ He suddenly knew she was in trouble and gripped her elbow, easing her forward and out into the cool night air.

Lorraine leaned against the side of the jeep. ‘Somebody spiked my drink or I picked up somebody else’s and... sorry, sorry, I got all hyper in there.’

She was so vulnerable, her whole body shaking, and he put his arm around her, walking her to the jeep door.

‘Come on, sit inside, you’re okay... You want some water?’

She stumbled and he held on tightly as he helped her. He reached over to the back seat. Tiger’s head appeared and he gave him a quick pat as he unscrewed a bottle of Evian.

‘It’s Tiger’s but I guess he won’t mind.’

She gulped at the water; it was lukewarm but it was liquid. She was scared to feel so dependent. ‘Sorry about this, sorry.’

He gently stroked her cheek. ‘Sweetheart, you don’t have to be sorry, I shouldn’t have stayed in the John but the floor show was somethin’ else and...’

She turned away, her hand clutching the dented old plastic. ‘Oh, shit, Nick, does it never stop? That was the first drink I’ve had in months, months...’

He opened the glove compartment and took out some peppermints. He unwrapped one and touched her lips. ‘Open your mouth.’ He popped in the mint and cuffed her chin lightly. ‘You stay put, I don’t want to miss out on this guy. Besides, he’s got a hundred bucks of our dough and,’ he tapped his pocket, ‘he’s gonna do some nasal damage in there with this gear. You okay if I leave you?’

She nodded, her mouth bulging with the mint. ‘Yep, and I got Tiger. Go on, I’m fine.’

Lorraine wasn’t. She couldn’t stop the tears as they welled up and spilled down, and she sucked hard on the big peppermint, angry with herself.

‘I lost it in there, Tiger,’ she whispered. It frightened her how quickly her confidence could be swiped from her, the realization that everything she was or thought she was could be so easily ripped apart. All it took was one drink and the craving was back.

Nick was leaning against a wall where he could see the cordoned-off back yard. He waited for almost ten minutes. They had bouncers even out back with the trash cans as kids tried to get in that way. He was beginning to think they’d lost a hundred bucks when out came the waiter. He had a leather studded jacket slung over his shoulder and was wearing dark shades.

‘Gonna check out my wheels, be back in five,’ he called out to the bouncers.

Nick remained half-hidden against the wall until the waiter was clear. He was very edgy as he joined Nick.

‘My bike’s parked up aways, you wanna walk with me?’

‘Sure, you got a name?’

‘Frankie. You got to be real careful, any one of us caught passin’ on anythin’ so much as a cigarette pack and we’re fucked. This is a big earner, man, I don’t wanna lose my job.’

‘I never seen you, it’s cool.’

The waiter’s Harley had more bolts and alarms than a security firm. It was a highly polished, chrome on chrome custom shovel-head.

‘Nice bike.’

‘Yeah, the fuckin’ bastards use trucks now to lift them. I’ve only had it a few months.’

‘Like you said, you got yourself a nice earner and maybe you gonna earn even more. You got something for me?’

‘This is the chick that’s missin’ right? An’ I’m not gonna get involved with any cops, that’s got nothin’ to do with the action...’

‘I’m not a cop, for fuck’s sake. I’m gonna hit on her family for Tony, she owed him. I don’t give a shit about anythin’ else.’

‘I don’t think anyone’s sussed who she is, they got a lotta this kind of material, know what I mean?’

‘I’m trying to, I just want to do the deal an’ get out of here.’

Nick eased out the bag as a taster and Frankie flicked a furtive glance in both directions. He drew his jacket forward and exposed a newspaper with a brown manila envelope tucked inside.

Nick gave Lorraine a wink as he got back into the jeep, starting it up straight away.

‘Let’s put some distance between me and my new pal Frankie.’

He swerved into the traffic with a screech of his balding tyres and they headed down the strip. He eased the manila envelope out of his denim jacket.

‘Oh, my God,’ Lorraine said, as she took out the photograph.

‘You said it, blew me away, part of a private collection they got up in the office. You were right, I was wrong.’

Nick lived in a house similar to Rosie’s, but even more dilapidated. His apartment was a shambolic mess, the bed unmade and dirty dishes stacked in the sink. ‘Guess the place needs a woman’s touch. Problem is, although I get a lot of chicks up here, none of them stay long enough to hoover.’

He wasn’t apologizing, he obviously didn’t care. Out of the corner of her eye Lorraine saw him open the fridge and take out a bottle of iced vodka. He took a small thick glass, filled it once, knocked it back and refilled it twice, each time downing the contents in one go and letting out a satisfied ‘Ahhhh’.

Everything in her wanted to join him in the neat ice-cold vodka. Her body was shaking.

‘Nick...’ she said softly.

‘Yep? Coffee’s on, won’t be long.’ He came and stood above her and gently patted her head. It was a sweet, affectionate gesture, and she had to swallow hard because she felt herself wanting to weep. ‘How you doing?’

‘Okay.’

It was hardly audible and he squatted down in front of her, resting on his old beat-up cowboy boots. ‘You want to talk?’

Her voice was husky. ‘I want a drink, it’s all I can think about.’

‘S’okay, I can go over to the fridge and pour you one right now, but that would be dumb.’

She bent her head. ‘Just gimme a drink, Nick.’

He stood up, hands on his hips. ‘You want one, you get it! You get up off your ass and the bottle is there in the freezer compartment, go on.’

She got up slowly, licking her lips, and crossed to the fridge. Her hand reached out and she turned to look at him.

‘I’m not stopping you, you know the road you’re gonna take better than me.’

She rested her head against the cold front of the big old-fashioned fridge, and he remained watching her, hands resting above his snake hips, the old Mexican silver-buckled belt askew. He waited. The way she pressed her body against the fridge turned him on, she was virtually kissing it like a lost lover. She pushed herself away and turned to the coffee percolator, her hands clenched at her side.

‘How well did you know Jack Lubrinski?’ Her voice was strained. She turned to him, her face tilted to one side, the scar hidden by a fold of her soft blonde hair.

‘Good cop, great guy.’

She nodded, and as she pushed the hair away from her face he could see the jagged scar down her cheek. She had the bluest eyes he’d ever seen, but she didn’t seem to be looking at him, more like through him.

‘I miss him.’

‘Yeah, I know.’

Suddenly she focused on him, studying his face. He blushed under her scrutiny. ‘You sometimes remind me of him.’

He lit two cigarettes and passed one to her. As he held it out, she touched his hand lightly with one finger, then took the cigarette and inhaled deeply.

‘You see, what happens, Nick, is like corners of my mind open. It comes on unexpectedly, kind of throws me sideways, and I feel this terrible panic. Just when I think I have it all under control, just when I think I’ve got myself together...’ She sucked on the cigarette. ‘One spiked drink, one goddamned mouthful, and... nothing else matters.’

‘Yes it does, you didn’t open the fridge.’

‘No, I didn’t, but I would have done if I was on my own. That’s what scares me, Nick, that and...’

‘And what?’

She shrugged and sipped her coffee.

‘Go on, tell me, and what?’

‘Oh, my kids, I think of them and Michael.’

‘Who’s Michael?’

‘He was my husband.’

‘Ah, well, we’ve all got ghosts, we’ve all got corners, Lorraine. Maybe you shouldn’t hide them away but talk more.’

‘I can’t.’

She suddenly bent her head forward so he couldn’t see her face, and let out a soft moan. He wanted to hold her in his arms, cradle her, kiss her, but he got up and moved further away. He couldn’t deal with the emotions she was wrenching out of him, it had been a long time since he had wanted to love a woman, and that’s what he knew was happening: he was falling in love with her. He changed the subject fast.

‘Right, we should talk over what went down tonight, sugar, because it’s late an’ we got to get moving on this case and out to New Orleans.’

She sniffed. ‘Yes, you’re right, and I’m okay now.’ She sprang to her feet, pulling her skirt down, kicking off the red high-heeled shoes. ‘Gimme the picture, let’s have another look. And this Frankie didn’t know of anyone called Polar?’

‘Nope.’ Nick picked up his jacket off the floor, fished inside the pocket and brought out the envelope. She took it from him and slapped it against her thigh, no shakes now, no vulnerable lady. She was back in shape.

Lorraine leaned on the edge of the Formica-topped kitchen table, studying the photo. He stood next to her, quite close, but couldn’t touch her, not like before; her need for him and a drink he knew had gone.

‘Well, she’s out of her head, that’s for sure, look at her eyes.’

‘Nice body,’ he said softly.

Anna Louise Caley was naked, lying on a table. There were bottles around one shoulder, one glass fallen on its side. The three boys were all around twenty and they looked drunk, their clothes half off, their trousers down, and all their faces in shot. One boy was fucking her, one was kissing her tits and one was jerking off over her, semen glistening over her flat, tanned belly. Anna Louise Caley was smiling, one hand holding a bottle of tequila.

‘Miss Goody-Two-Shoes,’ she said softly.

She was peering at the picture closely. ‘I think one of the little shits was the freckle-faced kid I interviewed at UCLA, I’m sure of it.’

Nick lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply. ‘According to Frankie, and he only started working at the club about the time this was taken, he only saw her once or twice, with a blonde girl about the same age. They came together, got smashed and royally screwed. He didn’t know any of the kids porking her but remembered her from the photo we passed him.’

‘He also know who she was? Newspapers had her picture on the front page so how come he didn’t contact the cops?’

‘Hey, kid’s scared to lose his job, and you don’t think he was the only guy that must have recognized her and kept their mouths shut.’

She frowned. ‘But if this kind of thing is a regular scene, why would he remember somebody who only used the place once or twice? I mean, you said they were screwing in the John.’

‘Well, firstly, a so-called bag of coke worth fifteen thousand dollars is a pretty good incentive, and this action we got here wasn’t done in the John but in a private room, this happened like real late. You know, just the main guys there, the so-called stars that gang-bang, and only a couple of waiters on duty, Frankie being one of them. He said he remembered her because he reckoned he’d get his dick wet, but she passed out...’

‘But this bunch of shits aren’t movie stars, one is a college kid.’

‘Maybe rich enough, who the fuck knows?’

Lorraine frowned. ‘Frankie have a picture of her girlfriend?’

‘No, he said she was taken up to the top room and he wouldn’t get up there, they had their own waiter.’

‘Who took this photograph?’

Nick cocked his head to one side. ‘Seems they got hidden cameras in the wall of mirrors in the private room. They take a lot of snaps, so many he wasn’t even worried they’d miss one.’

Lorraine stuffed the photograph back into the envelope. ‘Well, I got something to discuss with Mr and Mrs Caley, but I don’t think they’re gonna like it.’ She started to put on her red shoes and then pulled a face. ‘I’ll go barefoot, you wanna give me a ride home?’

‘Sure.’

In the jeep she stroked Tiger’s head while the dog tried to lick her face. ‘I think we really gelled, Nick, he’s a real character.’

‘Yep, he is.’ Nick slammed his door shut.

‘You know, this new direction kind of excludes Robert Caley. You think the photo might have been used for blackmail?’

Nick rammed the car into gear. ‘Like Frankie said, they got a load of snaps and all they’re used for, I’d say, are sick kicks. But maybe we don’t exclude blackmail.’

As they drew up outside Rosie’s place, Lorraine laughed. ‘Hey! We got one big breakthrough tonight, Nick. I’ll talk to the Caleys in the morning, maybe see if I can get that Tom Heller to spill something, and then...’ She punched his arm. ‘New Orleans, here we come...’ She clapped her hands. ‘Oh, Nick, one million dollars! I am sure we’ll crack this, we’ll find her, and like Mrs Caley said, dead or alive we still get the pay-off.’ Lorraine rubbed Tiger’s head. ‘G’night, talk tomorrow. Oh, Nick, you won’t give this information to Agnews, will you?’

His smile wiped fast. ‘No, but is it okay if I collect my pay cheque?’

She laughed, and he stayed watching her running barefoot up the stairs, two steps at a time to the first floor. She seemed full of energy, her confidence seemingly restored. She also, Nick noticed, made sure she had the photograph. Lorraine Page was back on the case. He rubbed Tiger’s head.

‘Dangerous lady, that one. Gets to the core, understand?’ Tiger licked his face. ‘No, I guess you don’t.’

Nick finished the bottle of vodka and lay spread-eagled on his crumpled bed. He picked up his guitar, strummed a few bars and began to tune it. He had liked her when she was vulnerable, liked it when he could take charge, sort of care for her. He hadn’t felt that way about anyone in a very long time and he knew he was caring too much, she was touching him deep down.

‘Oh, Lorraine, Lorraine, filled up with pain... Oh, Lorraine, let me...’

He was a much better guitarist than he ever admitted, but his lyrics stank and he knew it so he just lazily plucked at the strings that kept on saying her name... Lorraine.

Lorraine was curled up on her sofa bed, planning exactly how she would deal the ace she held in the brown manila envelope to the Caleys. Nick was far from her mind, so was the craving. The vulnerable Lorraine had crept back into her secret corner, along with Jack Lubrinski, her daughters and ex-husband. In fact, the person she was thinking about when she drifted asleep was Robert Caley, wondering how he would react to the photograph. In a way she was relieved that in her mind he was no longer their main suspect. She was still wondering about his possible involvement in his daughter’s disappearance and, lastly, what it would be like to lie naked next to him, when she fell asleep.