Peepshow (23 page)

‘You’d better have a lot of wax,’ she told the beautician, ‘I’ve gone feral. It’s a fucking forest down there.’

We cracked open the Yellowglen and unwrapped the pack of Winnie Blues. I told her everything, my voice a hoarse whisper. Even about Mick.

‘So while I was kidnapped you still managed to find time for a root?’

‘Hey,’ I said, ‘a girl has urges.’

Chloe nodded. ‘True.’

‘What about you and Blue?’

‘What about us?’

‘I did it all for love?’

She shook her head and packed another cone. ‘I didn’t screw him til the second week. He’s not exactly my type but there was fuck—all else to do and I was getting horny, you know? I think he’s in love with me but I just like him as a friend. What’s going on with you and this Mick dude?’

‘It’s over between us,’ I said. ‘It has to be.’

‘You still want him though.’ She could read me like a book.

‘Yeah, but I’m not going to have him. Fucking men, I’m over them. I’m going to turn lesbian.’

Chloe laughed, coughing out bong smoke. ‘Yeah right. You like cock too much.’

When Chloe left for her beauty appointments I went to bed to have a small nap. I don’t know if it was the stress, my injuries, or some canal-borne virus, but I was out for two days.

I wandered out to the lounge, yawning and scratching the back of my head where the hair had clumped into dreadlocks. Chloe was on the couch watching
Oprah
, painting her toenails fluorescent pink and eating Barbecue Shapes. I sat down and hugged her.

‘What’s come over you?’ she asked.

‘Dunno, what day is it?’ I had my voice back.

‘Friday.’

‘What’d I miss?’

‘About three thousand phone calls and us being the lead news story for the last two nights. Don’t worry, I saved it all for you.’ She showed me a scrapbook of newspaper clippings and a videocassette. I hugged her again and she looked at me suspiciously. ‘I reckon Farquhar injected you with E, not smack. Want a coffee?’

I nodded sleepily and flicked through the scrapbook while she went to the kitchen. The journos had mixed up my real and stage names and referred to me as Vivien Kirsch, which was good, but had included a publicity still of me in a sequined bikini, which was not. There were heaps of photos of Chloe, some from her
Picture
spread and paparazzi shots of her in dark glasses, coming out my front door. She put the pot and two mugs on the coffee table.

‘You’re famous,’ I said.

‘I’m about to get more famous.’

‘What are you talking about?’

She smiled proudly and pushed down the plunger,

‘I’m going on tell y. “A Current Affair”, mate. The kidnapped stripper who fell in love with her captor.

It’s a crime story, it’s a love story, and there’s tits and arse. At least that’s what the producer said. They want to do a story on you too, but I told them you wouldn’t be into it.’

‘You told them right. They paying you?’ I poured myself a cup. The first sip was heaven.

‘Three grand for an exclusive. I’m going to split it with you.’

‘You don’t have to—’

‘You saved my life.’

‘Blue saved your life,’ I said. ‘He shot Sal.’

‘Sal told Blue he was coming to let me go. If it wasn’t for all the commotion you and that old bloke started we wouldn’t have known anything was up. I’ll split the money with you, fifty-fifty. No argument.’

I remembered I had a month’s rent overdue and stopped arguing. ‘When do you film the segment?’

‘Tomorrow, so they can screen it on Monday.’

‘You’ll be the most famous stripper in Melbourne,’

I said.

Chloe clapped her hands with excitement. ‘Isn’t it great?’

The phone rang and I groaned, but reached for it. Time to get my life back in order. It was my agent Kelvin, and he was freaking out.

‘I’m sorry to bother you, Simone. I’ve seen the news and I know you’re injured but you’ve got to help me.

Sabrina’s fucked me around again. I booked her and Jamie to do a bi-twin show at five thirty for an office party and they’ve gone AWOL. Mobiles switched off.

Do you know anyone who can fill in?’

I held the phone to my chest. ‘Want to do a double show in two hours?’ I asked Chloe.

‘What? With you limping around?’

‘You could ask Aurora.’

She thought about it for a second. ‘OK. She’s hot.’

‘Kelvin,’ I said, ‘I’ll call you back.’

Aurora turned up half an hour later with champagne and a bunch of orchids for Chloe and me. She hugged us both. My life was turning into a regular love-in.

‘You two crazy chicks have been all over the news,’

she said. ‘I was supposed to be in the rescue party but someone forgot to call me.’

‘I was a little pressed for time,’ I said.

‘So I’ve read.’

‘Aurora figured out about the boat though,’ I told Chloe, ‘since I was too dense to work out your clues.’

‘They were good clues.’ Chloe wrestled with the wire around the cork. ‘I spent ages working out those clues.’

Aurora sat on the couch and crossed her long legs.

‘Guess what?’ she said. ‘I’m moving to the Gold Coast.’

Chloe popped the champagne and poured three glasses. ‘Really, when?’

‘Next week. I just decided on the spur of the moment. Apparently the table-dancing scene in Surfers is really good, kind of like Melbourne in the early nineties.’

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘What’s Betty think about that?’

‘She’s not too happy. She wants to come up with me.’

‘Do you want that?’ I asked.

Aurora shrugged. ‘Betty can be hard to handle.

Exhausting. I mean, I love the girl but she’s doing so much coke at the moment. One minute she’s arrogant and bitchy and the next teary, clingy and paranoid.’

‘What about Johnny?’

‘He told her last week he wanted to break things off for a while.’

‘Shit,’ I said.

‘Anyway, I’m having a going away barbie at Betty’s on Sunday. I’d love it if you could both come. It’s starting about three. Pretty casual. Bring a plate if you want.’

‘We’ll be there,’ said Chloe, ‘but right now I need to know what I’m wearing for this show.’

They decided on a bondage theme, and Chloe borrowed my latex outfit, a pair of handcuffs and a riding crop. I have some really cool things on the top shelf of my closet, up the back near the X rated videos.

Not long after, Wesley pressed the buzzer. Chloe went downstairs first and Aurora turned to me at the front door: ‘Mick asked me to give you this.’ She handed me a present shaped like a CD, crudely wrapped in old Christmas paper. ‘I don’t blame you if you don’t want anything to do with him but for what it’s worth, he’s sorry.’

I opened the package when she left. It was the Lucinda Williams CD.

I tipped out the dregs of my champagne, brewed some more coffee and fried up bacon and eggs, no toast. I sat at the dining table and scarfed down my first meal in forty-eight hours while playing back the answering machine tape. There were messages from reporters, a couple from Mick and Aurora, one from Alex in the hospital, and the last from Tony Torcasio, asking me to call. I pushed my plate away and dialed his number.

‘A1 Investigations.’

‘Tony, it’s Simone. Do I still get the job?’

‘Simone Kirsch,’ he said slowly, ‘the one who was obviously absent from class the day I taught everyone that it’s not worth risking your life for twenty bucks an hour.’

‘I risked it for free.’

He sighed. ‘You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that. Even though you’re not right in the head.’

‘True.’

‘And you can’t take direction.’

‘I can work on that.’

‘And you lied about being a stripper.’

‘By omission.’

He was silent.

‘You’re right,’ I said, ‘I lied.’

Another pause. I screwed up my face. Please, please, please let him give me another chance. Then I heard the smile in his voice.

‘Famous PI like you, all over the news, might be a bit boring at my little agency.’

‘Boring’s good, I love boring.’

‘I suppose you could still be useful for the odd bit of surveillance, long as you don’t wear those sparkly swimmers.’

‘I live for surveillance,’ I said. ‘And I can piss in a funnel, I did it following Farquhar.’

Tony laughed. ‘That’s all I ask of my investigators, the ability to piss in a funnel.’

‘So I’ve still got the job?’

‘It’s just a bit of subcontractor work but, yes, it’s yours if you want it.’

‘Thanks, Tony. You won’t regret this.’

‘Just keep out of trouble till then.’

At that point I thought it was entirely possible.

Chloe got home at seven, drunk and hyped up from doing the show, a bag of McDonald’s in her hand. She went straight to the bowl and started mulling up.

‘How’d it go?’ I asked.

‘Great. I was freaking because we didn’t have anything choreographed but it went fine. Aurora’s very good at eating pussy.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep, and she’s got this wicked tatt, I want to get one just like it.’

Chloe had one, a Playboy bunny on her arse.

‘Aurora doesn’t have any tattoos,’ I said.

‘Ever been up close to her snatch?’

‘No.’

‘That’s where it is. Just to the side of her pubes.’

Chloe showed me the exact location by pulling down her capri pants and pointing to the edge of her neat racing stripe. ‘If you stopped waxing it would be totally hidden.

If you ever wanted to stop waxing.’ She shuddered at the thought.

‘What’s it of?’

‘It’s hard to explain. It’s like this ancient chick, with wings and snakes and a whip.’

My face felt hot and my stomach twisted. It was the exact same tattoo Mick had. ‘Did she say what it meant?’

I asked.

Chloe sucked back on the bong, the water bubbled and smoke escaped her mouth as she spoke. ‘It means passion.’

The next day Chloe went home to get ready for filming and I visited the hospital. First I slipped into the old lady’s room and dropped off her stuff, then I saw Alex.

He was propped up on pillows, bandaged around the chest and left shoulder, and had tubes coming out of his arm. His eyes were glassy and he smiled when he saw me.

‘Hey.’

I kissed him on the cheek. He still smelled good, even swabbed in disinfectant.

‘How you doing?’ I asked.

‘Fine,’ his voice slurred. ‘Feelin’ no pain.’

‘No wonder,’ I said. ‘Your pupils are totally pinned.

What have they got you on?’

He laughed. ‘I dunno, but whenever I want more I just push this little button.’ He demonstrated and his eyelids fluttered closed.

I’d wanted to talk about the Parisi murder but I wasn’t going to get any sense out of Detective Morphine. Oh well, I could at least have fun watching a big macho control freak all helpless in bed, off his mind on painkillers.

He opened his eyes. ‘You shoulda told me about your friend,’ he said, ‘but thass OK. I forgive you.’

‘Thanks,’ I said, looking him over. On the part of his torso not covered by bandage he had a chest rug Sean Connery would’ve been proud of. ‘You’re a hairy son of a bitch, aren’t you?’

‘Whaddaya expect? I’m a wog.’

I reached over and stroked the hair.

‘Lower,’ he growled.

I gasped and held my hand to my chest. ‘Detective Christakos, what’s gotten into you?’

‘Too much time with nothing else to think about.’

‘Don’t you have a nurse to give you sponge baths?’

I inquired sweetly.

‘Male nurse!’

‘Oh dear.’

There was a knock at the door and Detective McCullers came in, clutching an oversized white teddy bear with a red bow. She pulled up a bit short when she saw me and we nodded hello. Alex seemed happy to see her and started singing, badly.

‘Suzy! Suzy Q. Woo! I love you.’

Me and McCullers looked at each other and raised our eyebrows.

‘Less have a party,’ Alex said. ‘You know I had a dream about the two of you the other night. One of those dreams.’ He winked and McCullers’ eyebrows shot up so far I thought they’d fly off her head.

‘Detective McCullers,’ I said, ‘can I speak to you outside?’

She nodded, relieved, and set the bear down on a chair.

‘Seeya, Alex.’ I waved.

‘Aw, come back, don’t be like that,’ he said.

She closed the door on him. Out in the corridor nurses padded past in cushioned shoes.

‘Sorry about Detective Christakos.’ McCullers blushed.

‘He’s on some strong medication.’

‘I wanted to ask about the Parisi murder,’ I said. ‘Are Homicide sure Farquhar did it?’

‘Pretty much.’

‘Do they know why he killed Frank?’

‘I doubt anyone will ever know exactly what was going on in his head. But the general consensus is Farquhar demanded more money from Parisi, who then threatened to report him to Ethical Standards. Threat of exposure seems to have been the thing that motivated him to murder.’

‘Like that prostitute in the eighties?’

She nodded. I continued.

‘I just think it’s weird that Farquhar used a knife, when you guys found a whole stash of unregistered guns in his storage unit. I mean, a knife, that’s messy, personal, heat of the moment stuff.’

‘So you’re an FBI profiler as well as a stripper and an inquiry agent.’ McCullers crossed her arms. I ignored her comment.

‘And why would he keep the knife in his house.

Under his bed?’

‘He was going to plant it.’

‘But why keep it there? That’s just stupid.’

McCullers sighed, exasperated. ‘The public doesn’t seem to realise that most criminals are not evil geniuses.

They get caught precisely because they are stupid. And arrogant. The case is closed. Give it up, Simone.’

But I couldn’t give it up. I went home and stewed about it and looked through my notebook. What I knew didn’t square up with the facts. Why would Frank Parisi go anywhere with Dick Farquhar? Where did Farquhar tie him up and kill him? How did Farquhar get Frank into the water?

I went over my notes until the words were swimming in front of my eyes. I was obsessing over it. But the alternative was obsessing over Mick and Aurora and their shared tattoo. Had they had a fling and celebrated it with a mutual tatt? Why had neither of them mentioned it? I told myself I shouldn’t care. I wasn’t seeing Mick anymore, and it was none of my business who he was screwing before we took up. But I did care—a lot.