Authors: Heather Atkinson
“I don’t care what you believe. Lucas is the artist.”
“You see, what I think is you’re the real artist and Lucas is the pretty face and charm who sells them. Let’s face it wee man, you’re annoying. You get people’s backs up because you’re a prick, you’re ugly and you have really bad dress sense.”
“Pot calling the kettle I think,” he retorted.
“You’re stupid too,” glowered Brodie. “If you had a brain you’d shut up and listen to me.”
“Then get on with it, I am a busy man,” sighed Oliver.
“I think you’re the real talent behind this exhibition and Lucas is just a front because everyone likes him better than you.”
“That’s not true,” he yelled.
“Aye it is and you can’t stand it. You’re the one who’s been kidnapping them, aren’t you?”
“Kidnapping who?”
“The homeless people.”
“What homeless people?”
“You know what homeless people. Where are they?”
“Who?” exclaimed Oliver.
“Fred. His face is in your crap exhibition, so I know where part of him is. Where’s the rest of him? And there’s Robbie too, what have you done with him?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about you lunatic.”
“Course you do and you’re the loony pal,” said Brodie, jabbing a digit in his chest. “And I’ll prove it.”
“You know something, you’re becoming a real pest. I’m going to have you stopped.”
“You got a steamroller then? Because short of that nothing gets in my way, especially not a murdering bastard like you.”
“I am not a murderer.”
Brodie frowned down at him. “Well if it’s not Thorne then it’s you.”
“I’ve had enough of this, I’m going to make a formal complaint.”
“Go on then,” said Brodie cheerfully. “See where it gets you, which won’t be far. What are you waiting for?” he added when Oliver just stood there.
“My car keys…”
Brodie laughed and shook his head. “You really are a pathetic wee shite and I will expose you for what you really are.”
Oliver’s smile was sly. “You’re not capable, you haven’t got the intelligence.”
“The last serial killer I brought down made the mistake of thinking that. She and her partner are now serving life behind bars and you’ll be joining them.”
Oliver’s smile was cold. “Amusing,” he said before kneeling on all fours and attempting to reach his car keys.
Brodie bellowed with laughter at the sight of his round backside sticking up in the air. “Get used to assuming that position Oliver. They’ll love it on the inside.”
Abruptly Oliver straightened up holding his car keys. “We both know that won’t happen.”
Brodie snatched the keys from him and dropped them down a grate.
“Hey,” cried Oliver, staring at the grate in dismay. “You can’t do that.”
“Just did.”
“I’ll report this.”
“Do what you like. Your word against mine.”
“The CCTV…,” said Oliver, pointing up at the camera hanging off a wall.
“Hasn’t worked in the last eight months,” called Brodie over his shoulder as he walked away. “We will be talking again.”
CHAPTER 18
Brodie’s guts twisted with rage. That had got him nowhere, except a possible restraining order on Oliver’s part. It had changed nothing, Cass was still going to London with the Elf. There was only one other thing he could think to do. He had to face Thorne directly.
Brodie waited in his car outside Thorne’s apartment block for him to make an appearance. After almost an hour’s wait he finally emerged, wearing his traditional long black coat and carrying his cane.
“Ponce,” Brodie said to himself before jumping out of his car and jogging across the road after him.
He had intended to shadow him for a bit but his phone burst into life in his jacket pocket.
“Bugger,” Brodie muttered to himself, frantically digging it out of his jacket pocket, sighing when he saw it was the same number Shelley had called him on. He rejected the call and put it on silent but it was too late. Lucas whipped round, his coat swirling about him, cat’s eyes bright.
“You,” said Lucas.
“You seem surprised to see me?” said Brodie, coming to a halt before him.
“It is unexpected. I take it you’re here to talk about Cass?”
“She’s the only thing we have in common. You got some time?”
“I was just going for a walk but yes. I always have time for Cass’s friends.”
His reasonableness irritated him. “I know a good pub not far from here. Fancy a swallie?”
“If that means a drink then why not?” he smiled.
Lucas’s amiability was irritating Brodie. “Come on then,” he snapped before walking away, Lucas not hurrying to catch up, content to lag behind, the thud of his cane on the ground causing Brodie to grind his teeth.
The pub they entered wasn’t the usual type of place Lucas frequented. The Seven Bells was a bit of a dive, the clientele iffy and the landlord surly. Brodie had selected this place on purpose to give him the upper hand - it would only be easier to get what he wanted out of Lucas if he was on edge and eager to escape.
The whole place stopped when Lucas made his grand entrance with his long blond hair, sweeping black coat and silver topped cane, some of the customers actually staring with their mouths hanging open, glasses halfway to their lips as Lucas made his way to the bar, apparently oblivious to the looks he was receiving.
“Is this one with you Brodie?” demanded the landlord, who was standing behind the bar, gaping at Lucas.
“Yeah, I need to talk to him,” he said meaningfully.
Understanding dawned in the landlord’s eyes. “Thank God for that, I thought you’d gone light on your feet.”
“Never me pal.”
“You can have the booth. Give me a minute.”
The landlord lifted the bar hatch, strode across the room and grabbed the two scruffy-looking men who had been chatting over a pint in the booth. “Boost yourselves, Brodie needs this spot.”
“It seems you’re very influential around here,” smiled Lucas, leaning against the bar, looking as though he’d been frequenting the pub for years.
“This is like my second office and I’ve done a lot of favours for a lot of people,” he said casually.
“And a lot of them owe you?”
Brodie shrugged, although inwardly he preened with pride.
The landlord returned to his position behind the bar. “Usual Brodie?”
“Aye, please Del. Lucas?”
“Pint of lager please,” he politely replied.
“Now that’s a turn up for the books,” smirked Del as he placed Brodie’s glass of red wine on the bartop before him.
Lucas smiled as he picked up his pint of lager and took a manly swig.
“Come on,” muttered Brodie, snatching up his wine glass and striding to the now-vacant booth.
“So,” said Lucas, taking the seat opposite. “You want to discuss Cass?”
“What else?”
“If you’re worried about how I’ll treat her then please don’t. I love her and I will always treat her well.”
“You really want to take her away from her home and friends? You think that’ll make her happy?”
“I do because we are meant to be together. She’s a very special lady.”
Brodie laughed into his glass. “Cass is special but a lady she is not.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You’ve never seen her break someone’s nose.”
Lucas cocked a smile. “I’m sure she’s more than capable but don’t you think taking her away from this dangerous lifestyle of hers is the best thing for her?”
“The danger is the appeal to Cass. If you think she’s the type to settle down as a housewife then you’re in for a shock. She needs excitement in her life.”
“I understand that, which is why I’ve arranged for a friend of mine to give her a job in his security firm.”
“Oh,” he said, the last of his hope dying.
“It’s a very reputable agency with some very high profile clients - royalty, film stars, sports stars.”
“Really?” he replied flatly, unimpressed.
“Cass will be working for the best. No offence to you of course, I hear you’re very good at what you do but this way Cass won’t be involved in any illegal activity.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” frowned Brodie.
“Oliver did a lot of digging. Apparently not all your cases are strictly legal.”
“Just what the hell are you saying?”
“Please Brodie, you know what I’m saying. Don’t get me wrong, I actually think you do excellent work, getting justice for those denied it. But one day you could get yourself into some serious trouble and you’d drag Cass down with you. Is that what you want?”
“Course not,” he exclaimed.
“Then the best thing for her is to come to London with me. She’ll be perfectly happy, I assure you.”
“Got a crystal ball, have you?”
“I know because I’ve been waiting for her my entire life. She’s my soul mate, the one I’m meant to be with.”
“Don’t give me that sentimental shite.”
“Don’t believe in true love, do you?”
Brodie glared at him across the table. Yes he did and Lucas had no idea he was taking his from him. He pondered his reply before deciding to throw the smug git completely off track. “You got family in London then?”
Lucas’s smile dropped. “No.”
Brodie smiled inwardly. It seemed he’d finally touched a nerve. “So you’re all on your own then?”
“No,” he said, eyes narrowing. “I have Oliver and a small circle of friends. I don’t like to socialise much.”
He noted how he classed Oliver and his friends separately, not that he could blame him for that, the fud was a complete dick. “Cass does. She loves going out with her friends and having a laugh.”
“I’m not going to stop her if that’s what you’re insinuating.”
“I know you won’t. Cass lets nothing and no one stop her from doing what she wants. You going to introduce her to your family then?”
Lucas’s upper lip curled with disdain. “Why do you keep talking about my family?”
Brodie was quick to spot the way his eyes glittered, the contempt in his voice, the way his grip tightened on his pint glass. The anger was tightly restrained but it was there and it was all aimed at his mummy and daddy. He was also fascinated by the way his eyes burned and the pupils grew darker and narrower, making him look like a true predator. Brodie had encountered plenty of those in his time. “Does it make you angry?”
“No,” snapped Lucas.
“Looks like it does.”
“Let’s not play games Mr Brodie.”
“It’s just Brodie,” he sighed.
“Yes, I know. Truth be told I just said that to annoy you, Cass told me how it drives you crazy that everyone gets your name wrong. Petty I know but I couldn’t help myself. You’ve done your research on me Brodie and please don’t insult my intelligence by denying that you have. No doubt you started digging the moment you discovered Cass and I were seeing each other. Therefore you must already know that I don’t get on with my parents at all. It’s not exactly a secret. I get the feeling you’re steering the topic of conversation round to my parents on purpose.”
“No, not really. I just want to know that you’ll treat Cass properly. We’ve had each other’s backs for a long time.”
“You’ll miss her?”
“Aye I will, as will a lot of people around here,” he added before Lucas clicked onto his crush. “There’s also something else I wanted to ask.”
Lucas took another swig of his lager. “Ask away.”
“How do you make the heids?”
Lucas laughed and shook his head. “You know I can’t tell you that.”
“Come on, just a wee hint.”
“No can do Brodie. Sorry.”
“Alright, where do you find the faces then?”
“Some faces are made up, others are casts I take from people’s faces.”
“What, like models?”
“No,” he said with disdain. “I prefer more natural beauty to forced. They are all real people.”
“Do you find them or does Oliver?”
“Why are you bringing Oliver into it?”
Brodie tried not to look as excited as he felt when Lucas actually looked a little panicked. “Well, he’s your agent. I assumed he helps you out with your work.”
“Well he doesn’t,” snapped Lucas, looking outraged. “I do all the work.”
“Alright, calm down pal. I just thought he might help you find the heids.”
“Oliver is nothing to do with my work. All he does is book venues and tours as well as manage my PR. Nothing else.”
“Take it easy,” said Brodie, conscious of everyone turning to look at them as Lucas raised his voice.
Lucas realised they were being watched too and took a deep, calming breath. “I do apologise for that but Oliver interfered with my relationship with Cass, I almost lost her because of his meddling and he’s been really stifling me lately.”
“He seems the type, wee dick.”
“Yes, I rather think you’re right there,” he said, frowning into his pint.
“He’s really pissed you off then?”
“Yes.”
“Sack him off then.”
“Tempting but I’m too afraid of him going to my rivals to sell my secrets. He’s vindictive enough to do that.”
“You have secrets then?”
“About my work, yes. If I sack Ollie then every artist in London will be putting their own versions of my faces up in their exhibitions.”
Here was the perfect opportunity for Brodie to dig deeper into this weird situation. “In my experience there’s only one way to make sure someone keeps a secret of yours.”
“How?” said Lucas, looking very curious.
“Find out a secret of theirs.”
“Ollie has no secrets.”
“Everyone has secrets, some bigger than others but most people are really keen to keep them.”
“Hmmm, interesting idea. But how do I discover his secrets?”
“Easy. I’ll do it for you.”
“You?” he said, surprised. “Why would you help me?”
“It’s not for you, it’s for Cass. He messed things up for her once and if she sticks with you he’ll try again. It would make me feel better if you had something to keep him in line.”
“So would I,” said Lucas with a sly smile. “Alright Brodie, I’d like to hire you.”
“Call it a freebie, a goodbye present for Cass, although I think we shouldn’t tell her about it.”
“I don’t like keeping things from her.”
“We’re not keeping anything from her, it’s just a precaution to protect her from any more of Oliver’s shite.”
“Okay, you’ve convinced me.”
Brodie was thrilled. “Any idea where I should start?”
Lucas thought carefully before replying. “I’m his only client but he did have another - Hans Albrecht. He’s a German artist but he lives in London. He dropped Oliver pretty quickly and without explanation. I was always certain something strange went on there.” He produced a notebook and pen from his coat pocket, scribbled down the name and phone number and handed it over to Brodie,
“I’ll get right on it,” said Brodie, carefully pocketing the note.
“You know Brodie, I get the feeling this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”
Unfortunately he said this just as Del approached the table with more drinks for them both. “Want me to fetch you a candle and flowers for the table?” he grinned.
“Jeezo, he didn’t mean it like that,” said Brodie.
“Yeah, right,” grinned Del. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds in peace.”
“It’s not like that,” Brodie exclaimed, sighing and slumping in his seat, the landlord ignoring his protests.
“Don’t worry about it, happens to me all the time,” said Lucas.
“People think you’re gay?”
“I’m an artist with long hair and a cane. What do you think?”
“Good point.” Brodie gestured to Lucas’s pint glass. “You want another?”
“That’s very kind but no thank you,” he replied, getting to his feet. “I’m afraid I have an appointment.”
“Oh aye? What?”