Stephen Leather - Take Two

The bidding kept going up with all three waving their hands in the air. The woman dropped out when the price reached twenty thousand pounds and the comedian announced bids would then be accepted only in multiples of a thousand. Bidding was soon up to twenty-five thousand pounds. There were lights shining in Carolyn’s face and she shielded her eyes as she tried to get a better look at the second bidder from the back of the room.

Richards could see Carolyn was looking right at him. He waved his hand, taking the bidding to twenty-six thousand pounds. His last remaining rival was hesitating and Richards knew he was going to win. Richards kept his hand in the air, showing he was going to bid no matter what the other man did. The rival shook his head and flopped back in his chair.

‘The winner at the back with a bid of twenty-six thousand pounds!’ shouted the comedian. The audience went wild, applauding and cheering, and Richards stood up to acknowledge the applause.

Richards knew all the people at his table — three were employees of his and six were VIP regulars at the club who’d been invited to join him. Halpin was outside minding the Porsche. Richards figured it would be better to keep Halpin away from Carolyn until he’d worked out whether or not she’d seen him at Cohen’s house.

She was shading her eyes against the lights as she looked in his direction and he waved at her and flashed her a beaming smile. Including the two actors in the auction had been Halpin’s idea and it had been a good one. She’d get to see him in a public situation and he’d get to judge her reaction. If he felt she hadn’t recognized him, he’d do the one-on-one lunch and then he’d know for sure. As he looked at her on the stage, she seemed totally at ease.

A pretty blonde appeared next to Richards holding a clipboard. Richards took out his cheque book, wrote out a cheque for twenty-six thousand pounds to the charity, signed it with a flourish and handed it to her. ‘You could take me to lunch for a lot less than this,’ she said.

‘Really?’ said Richards.

She pressed a card into his hand. ‘Really,’ she said.

‘I might take you up on that,’ he said.

Seb raised his glass to Carolyn. ‘I think your mystery admirer is heading this way,’ he said. They were back at their table and had started on another bottle of vintage claret. Carolyn looked over her shoulder and saw the man walking purposefully towards her table. Her stomach lurched when she saw the man’s face and she swore under her breath.

‘What’s wrong, darling, he looks fine to me,’ said Seb.

Carolyn swallowed. Her mouth had gone bone dry and she almost gagged. She took a quick sip of wine. It was him, the man she’d seen at Nicholas Cohen’s house. Or was it? How could it be? She tried to remember what the killer had looked like but her memory wasn’t good for faces. He was certainly the right size and build. Tall and dark with wide shoulders.

‘For God’s sake smile, darling, he’s going to think there’s something wrong with him.’

Carolyn forced a smile as she looked at the man heading her way. He was tall and good-looking and exuded confidence with his head held high and his shoulders back. But was it him? Was it the man she’d seen at the house? How could it be? What were the odds that the man she’d seen would turn up at a charity do and bid to have lunch with her. And if he was the killer, why would he want to meet her? Her mind whirled and she fought to stay calm.

He locked eyes with her from six feet away and smiled showing teeth so white and even that she thought they must be capped. ‘Miss Castle? I thought I should come over and introduce myself.’ He held out his hand and she caught a glimpse of a bulky gold cufflink. ‘Warwick Richards. Big fan.’

She smiled and shook his hand.

Seb stood up and waved at his chair. ‘Seeing as you paid twenty-six grand for the lady, the least I can do is to give up my seat,’ he said.

Richards offered his hand. ‘Good to meet you, Seb. I gather you’re a regular at the club, I’ll pop over and see you next time you’re in.’

‘Of course,’ said Seb. ‘Warwick Richards. That Warwick Richards.’

‘You know each other?’ asked Carolyn.

‘I sometimes drink at Warwick’s club,’ he said. ‘But I don’t think we’ve ever actually met.’

‘I tend to give VIPs the privacy they deserve,’ said Richards. ‘The last thing you want is the staff bothering you when you’re out for a quiet drink.’

‘Staff?’ said Carolyn.

Richards grinned. ‘Well, owner actually,’ he said. He shook hands with Seb then sat down next to Carolyn. He looked into her eyes as he smiled at her. He had wonderfully blue eyes, she realised. ‘I just wanted to reassure you that I’m not a stalker and if you don’t want to go through with the lunch, that’s fine. I’m happy enough to help the charity.’

‘You don’t look at all like a stalker,’ said Carolyn. A waiter poured champagne into a glass for Richards and he nodded his thanks. ‘What’s the club you mentioned?’ asked Carolyn.

‘It’s in Leicester Square. Seb’s a regular, I’m told. You should drop by some time. I’ll have your name put on the VIP list, just walk right in. We’ve a very discreet VIP area and an amazing roof terrace.’

‘Sounds like fun.’

‘It is. We take good care of our customers, especially VIPs like you. You can let your hair down without worrying that someone’s going to start taking a picture on their phone.’ He nodded over at Seb who had moved to the next table and was deep in conversation with a young actor from Coronation Street. ‘That’s why Seb likes it. No one cares who he’s sipping champagne with, if you get my drift.’ He sipped his drink. ‘So what about you, Carolyn? What do you do for fun?’

Carolyn sighed. ‘Ah, yes, I remember fun,’ she said. ‘Most days we’re in the studios by eight which means I’m up at six so there aren’t many late nights.’

Richards chuckled. ‘Six? That’s about when we’re closing up,’ he said. He put down his glass. ‘Anyway, I won’t take up any more of your time,’ he said. ‘But I would love to take you up on the lunch.’

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Look, if you’re a fan of the show, why not come to the studio one day next week? Say, Friday? I know we’re in the studio all day Friday. I can show you around and the food in the canteen is pretty good.’ She held up her wine glass. ‘No wine, unfortunately.’

‘That sounds like a plan,’ said Richards. ‘And wine isn’t a problem, I’ll be driving.’

‘What sort of car do you have, I’ll leave the details with security.’

‘A Porsche,’ said Richards.

‘That’s funny, I wouldn’t have you down as a Porsche man.’

‘It’s a Cayenne,’ said Richards. ‘I like a bit of room when I drive.’ He stood up and flashed her another beaming smile. ‘So I’ll see you on Friday, Miss Castle.’

‘Carolyn, please,’ she said. ‘And I’ll look forward to it. Do you have a card?’

‘Sure.’ Richards took out his wallet and gave her a business card before he headed back to his table.

‘Wow,’ said the girl singer. ‘He is hot.’

‘Do you think so?’ asked Carolyn, picking up her glass.

‘Oh yes. On a scale of one to ten he’s an eleven. Tall, dark and handsome. And clearly loaded. What more could you ask for?’

Carolyn watched as Richards took his place at his own table and began talking to a young red-headed girl in a gravity-defying dress. ‘That’s a very good question,’ she said.

Richards climbed into the back of the Porsche and lit a cigar. ‘How did it go?” asked Halpin, twisting around in his seat.