Little Boy Blue - [18]

‘My name is Emilia Garanita. I’m a journalist.’

‘Is this about the film? You need to talk to someone in the publici-’

‘No, it’s about Jake Elder. I was wondering if you’d heard the news?’

Silence on the end. Emilia could picture the groggy Simons sitting up in bed, trying to process what he’d just heard.

‘What news?’ Simons eventually said.

‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this… but Jake was killed last night.’

‘I don’t understand. Is this a joke?’

‘It’s a lot to take in and you have my sincere condolences. I know you and he were very close.’

Another long silence. Simons’s breathing was short and erratic.

‘Killed how?’

‘He was murdered. At a nightclub called the Torture Rooms in Southampton. Do you know it?’

The first teaser question to see if he was going to lie to her.

‘Yes, I know it. But I still don’t understand. Was he involved in some kind of fight?’

‘No, nothing like that.’

‘Was it an accident? Did something go wrong?’

Even with the line as echoing as this was, Emilia heard the wobble in David Simons’s voice.

‘It looks like he was murdered. And, like everybody else, we’re just trying to work out why. Can I ask when you last saw him?’

‘Jesus… I… this is hard to take in.’

‘I know and I’m sorry to be the bearer of such dreadful news. But I thought you’d want to know straight away.’

‘Why? Who are you?’

‘I work for a newspaper here, but I also knew Jake. Given how close you were to him, I thought you’d want to be told.’

Another long silence.

‘Now I’m sure you’ll want to get back here, but that’ll probably mean you missing out on some work, not to mention the cost of the flight from LA, so I was going to suggest that we pick up your expenses.’

‘I’m not sure…’

‘And all I’d want in return is ten minutes of your time now. What do you say?’

The deal was already done – she could sense he wanted to talk, wanted to find out more about what had happened to his ex. Emilia made all the right noises, adopting a consoling tone and offering her condolences, all the while revelling in the doublespeak of it all. She said she was sorry to be the bearer of bad news but the truth was very different.

There was something exhilarating about being the harbinger of death.

28

‘I haven’t seen your face before.’

The man, dressed from head to toe in black leather, gripped Sanderson’s chin, turning her head this way now that to admire her painted face.

‘I’m new to town.’

‘And what do we call you, new-to-town?’

‘Rose.’

‘A rose with thorns, no doubt. Come this way, I’ll introduce you to the others…’

The burly man led Sanderson down a long corridor. The light sockets hung down from the ceiling without bulbs and only a couple of weak wall lights rescued the pair of them from total darkness. Sanderson was pleased to feel the hard steel of her baton on her flank, as they walked further and further away from the light.

They soon reached another door. Her companion – who’d introduced himself as Dennis – knocked on it and moments later a hatch in the door slid open.

‘Fresh meat,’ Dennis said, a thin grin on his face. Moments later, the door swung open and they hurried inside. Sanderson wondered if her mobile phone would work in here, especially as they now seemed to be heading down to some kind of basement, but she didn’t dare look at her phone. Dennis’s eyes were glued to her.

The Munch convened minutes later. Fifteen committed sado-masochists, hunched round in a circle, enjoying the subversion and secrecy of their gathering. Normally they would have been discussing best erotic practice and comparing case notes, but today there was only one topic of conversation. Less than twenty-four hours had elapsed since Jake’s death but it had sent shock waves through the community.

Dennis sat Sanderson next to him, acting as her friend and sponsor, despite having only ‘known’ her for a few minutes. She had contacted him via a website – ‘The BrotherHood’ – and after a few exploratory messages he’d sent her a curt email including an address and time. She’d turned up five minutes early – time enough to check that her backup team was in place – then rang the bell for admission. Dennis had stuck close to her the whole time and Sanderson wondered if he did this to all new members or whether there was something special about her.

‘Bloke I know from Bevois Mount had a similar thing happen to him,’ a guy who appeared to be dressed as a satyr was saying. ‘Took a bloke home he hardly knew. The guy taped him up and robbed him blind.’

‘There was a girl I knew – right vicious little bitch she was,’ added his female neighbour, covered head to toe in PVC, apart from webbing at the crotch. ‘Used to advertise for partners, but as soon as they turned up, her boyfriend and his mates set on them. Beat a couple of people half to death.’

‘One person you don’t want to mess with is my ex,’ said another, to general agreement. ‘You get him on the wrong night, he’d kill you as soon as look at you. If he wasn’t doing a two-stretch, I’d have said this was him.’

‘This is different though, right?’ Sanderson piped up, dismissing all these suggestions out of hand. ‘I think it was a hate crime.’