Tony Black - Paying For It

Amy looked phenomenal, she’d have given Bo a run for her money any day. Until now, she’d been a kinda conservative dresser. Classic looks, nothing to attract too much attention. But here she stood in a black mini-dress, thigh-high kinky boots and a choker. Her hair splayed out, back-combed, bit of a Cousin It thing going on.

‘Jesus,’ I thought, ‘what’s with the man-eater look?’ Wondered if I was in for trouble.

She came close and I saw her make-up had been trowelled on. Spanish eyes, pillar-box-red lipstick and false eyelashes.

She clocked my expression, cocked her elbow on her hip. ‘Looking for business, love?’

‘How much will you pay me?’

She laughed and handed me a rain-splattered black PVC coat.

Inside, she said, ‘It’s pissing down out there.’

‘I see that — drink?’

Brought through two more Stellas, as Amy eyeballed Hod’s apartment.

‘This is some joint, Gus.’

‘Yeah. It’s… er… a friend’s.’ I nodded in the direction of the shower.

Amy winced, looking like Beyonce on a warble. ‘Male or female?’

‘Jealous?’

Another wince, facing the other way this time. ‘Gus, check the kip of me.’ She held out her palms, flicked her boot tops. ‘I’m in no nick for a cat fight!’

‘It’s a bloke. My mate, Hod. He’s sound.’

‘Phew.’ She threw herself on the couch, foot tapped to the music. ‘Who’s this?’

‘Dirtbombs.’

‘I like them.’

‘I’m delighted — Look, what’s with the get-up?’

‘Let me get these off first.’ She unzipped her boots and kicked her feet up beside her on the couch. ‘Christ, that’s better — bloody medieval torture they are.’

I sat down too. ‘So?’

‘Any chance of a foot massage?’

‘None.’

She pouted. ‘Aw… Gussie, and I’ve been such a good girl.’

‘Enough games, Amy.’ I felt uneasy watching her making eyes at me with all that slap painted on her face, even if she was joking.

‘It’s Pepsi.’

‘Come again?’

‘When I’m dressed like this, I’m Pepsi.’

It was worse than I thought.

‘Pepsi? Why?’

‘It’s a… you could call it a stage name.’

My mind raced into overdrive, thoughts ran around like rats down the docks.

‘A stage name, right. What have you been up to… Pepsi?’

She smiled. ‘Remember I said I wanted to help with the Billy thing?’

Nodded. A frown waiting in reserve.

‘Well, I had an idea when you said he worked in some clubs.’

‘Oh Christ, Amy, what have you done?’

‘No. No. I’ve only been dancing, I promise.’

‘What?’

‘At the Pleasure Garden. I’ve been pole dancing.’

I stood up. My gob was smacked.

‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’

‘Gus, chill out. There’s plenty of girls at college doing it, it pays good money — and I’ve been able to find some information.’

Shot her a stare, said, ‘I doubt it, you’re more likely to find yourself in grief.’

‘Sit down.’ She patted the chair beside her, made a show of fluffing up a cushion.

The CD stopped. Hod’s singing ended too, I heard him getting out of the shower.

I sat down. ‘Let’s hear it.’

‘Right. Well, to begin with,’ she rubbed her hands together, leaned forward, ‘Billy wasn’t exactly mammy’s little angel. The nicest description I’ve heard of him so far was cocky little prick.’

‘Who from?’

‘The girls. I’ve been getting to know them all.’

‘Charming are they?’

‘Shut it.’ She pointed in my direction, a bright pink fingernail wagged at me. ‘Nobody liked him, but they said he knew the score.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘He played the Big I Am all over the place, but when Benny showed up — different story. He crawled right up Benny’s arse.’

‘So what? Brown-nosing the boss goes on all over.’

‘No, this was more. Billy was his protege until recently.’

‘And?’

‘It’s all a bit sketchy. Have you any fags?’ I lit a couple of Luckies, passed one over. Amy blew on the end of hers to get it going. ‘There was some kind of row, big bust up at one of the clubs, a couple of the girls saw it. It was pretty full-on. Billy was in tears.’

‘What was it about?’

‘That’s the thing… nobody knows.’

‘I find that a bit hard to believe, you telling me the rumour mills just ground to a halt after a flare-up like that.’

‘There’s a few stories going about. That Zalinskas was giving Nadja one, that Zalinskas was giving Billy one — a big no to that, by the way, Billy definitely wasn’t AC/DC — so, just the usual jangling, I wasn’t buying any of it.’

‘Hold on. Back up there. What’s that about Nadja?’

‘Ice Queen?’

‘Oh, she’s frosty, yeah.’

‘All, and I mean all, the girls hate her guts.’

‘No shit.’

‘Really, it’s like… primal, a pack fear thing.’ Amy dragged deep on her tab, swiped at the smoke. ‘She’s bringing in all this Eastern European gash and-’

‘Say what? Gash?’

‘Industry term.’

‘Gotcha.’

‘So she’s like, created all this resentment among the girls, and, at the same time, she’s shagging the boss.’

‘Volatile mixture.’

‘I tell you, Gus, she’s the alpha bitch in Benny’s empire. Everyone knows it.’ Amy stood up. ‘Mind if I put on another CD?’

I waved her on.

None of Amy’s information struck me as real news. Yeah, it was good colour. It added something to the overall picture but there was nothing concrete, nothing to latch onto. Except for the row between Zalinskas and Billy.

‘Amy…’ She spun round, swept her hair over, and pouted again.

‘Sorry. Pepsi… about this barney.’

‘What about it?’

‘Did anything come of it?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean afterwards — did the girls say there were any, I dunno, changes? Did Benny start coming in for the takings? Did Billy get moved? Any girls sacked?’

‘No, I don’t think — Oh, hang on, there was. It’s probably nothing, but apparently a day after the row, they ripped out all the security cameras.’

‘They did?’

‘Yeah. I didn’t think anything of it though, I mean, cameras in a place like that, bad idea to begin with, right?’

The carry-out arrived. I paid the delivery guy and laid the tinfoil boxes out on the table. Amy put on the Manics. ‘Motorcycle Emptiness’, she said, ‘I just love this old stuff.’

Had no answer for that.

‘We need plates, Gus, and cutlery.’

‘Sure, I’ll get some.’

I called out to Hod and he came in, hair wet, reeking of Obsession, Ted Baker shirt open but for a couple of buttons.

He grabbed me. ‘Christ, Gus…’ he whispered, ‘who the fuck is that?’

‘Oh aye, Hod, this is… er, Pepsi… Pepsi, Hod.’

Amy tucked into some chicken jalfrezi, mouth full, she gave a wave.

‘Christ,’ said Hod again. ‘I’ll take the Pepsi challenge any day!’

I slunk off to the kitchen, to grab myself another Stella. Had been knocking them back and now began to feel like mixing in something a bit harder. For some reason, gin called. I never touch the mother’s ruin, but my mood told me it would fit. You sit behind a bar, staring at those optics for long enough periods of your life, sooner or later, labels you’ve never even tried start to call you.

I went back to find Hod and Amy deep in conversation.

‘Gus, Gus, this is out of order!’ said Hod.

‘What is?’

‘Billy Boy. Pepsi’s been telling me you’re going after his killer.’

‘Oh, has she now?’