Take Two (A psychological thriller) (14 page)

‘You know it’s unfair, I know it’s unfair, but nothing is going to change the way it works. Women get older and men mature.’

‘You’d think with so many women in top jobs at the BBC and ITV that would change.’

‘The women are the worst,’ said Peter. ‘Way bitchier than the men.’

‘I think it’s Sally and Lisa who are trying to stitch me up,’ said Carolyn. ‘They’ve never liked me.’

‘Jealousy,’ said Peter. ‘You’re everything they want to be.’

‘Nice of you to say so, Peter. But that doesn’t help me. Look, if the worst comes to the worst and I have to leave the show, what are my options?’

Peter sipped soup from his spoon, giving himself time to think.  ‘You’re still a hot commodity,’ he said eventually. ‘I can get you as many after-dinner speaking gigs as you can handle at between two and five grand a go.’

‘Oh come on, Peter.’

‘Don’t knock it. You could make a hundred grand a year from a few hours a week talking to businessmen and the like.  And we turn down most of the personal appearances you’re offered because you’re in the studio all day. I could get you two or three supermarket openings a week, grand or two a go. There’s promotional videos, there’s commercials, you’re one of the best known faces in the country. Then there’s panto.’

‘Panto?’

‘A month’s work once a year and you could be looking at fifty grand. More, if we can get you a London gig.’

‘Playing what, Peter? The Wicked Witch? The Evil Stepmother?’

‘I was thinking more Peter Pan. Principal Boy. Cinderella, maybe. Don’t turn your nose up at panto, some actors live the whole year on what they earn in December.’

‘I want to work in television, Peter. Or film. I want to act.’

‘I could probably get you on Countdown. And Have I Got News For You. Might be able to push you for Loose Women.’

‘That’s not acting, Peter. I’m an actress, not a TV personality.’

‘You can make the transition,’ he said. ‘Look at Ulrika Jonsson on Shooting Stars. That really raised her profile.’

‘A panel game? Be serious, Peter. What about film? Could you put me up for roles?’

‘I could, yes,’ he said. ‘But the age thing is the bugbear.’

Carolyn’s eyes narrowed. ‘The age thing?’

‘You’re at the awkward age. You know you are. You’re too old for the sex kitten roles and you’re not old enough for the character roles.  If you were thirty I’d be putting you for every film that’s being greenlit, if you were over sixty you’d be spoilt for choice. But forty-five…’   He shrugged.  ‘It’s a tough sell, I won’t lie to you. Look at Sharon Stone.  The work just dried up. It always does.’

‘Forty four, Peter. I’m forty four.’ Carolyn took a sip of wine, then gulped down half of her glass.  ‘So my options aren’t great, that’s what you’re saying?’

‘I’m saying if you want to work in television, you’ve pretty much got the best job going. My advice to you would be to do whatever is necessary to safeguard what you have.’ He put down his spoon. ‘You’re worried they’re going to write you out? Is that it? Because that won’t happen.’

‘You don’t know that, Peter.’

‘I know we have a contract that has four more months to run. So they’re hardly going to stop using you. That wouldn’t make any financial sense.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘There’s no “suppose” about it. Your contract is rock solid. They have to pay you whether or not they use you so, of course, they’ll use you. And four months is a long time in TV Land. Half the suits on the show will have moved on by then.’

‘They could reduce my role.’

‘Again, why would they? They pay the same whether you’re on screen for twenty minutes or twenty seconds. And, again, four months is a long time. Even if they did, the viewers would howl and they’d go back to the status quo.’  He picked up his spoon again. ‘You’re worrying about nothing,’ he said. He smiled confidently. ‘Trust me.’

CHAPTER 27

A portly man in a flat cap waddled over to one of the trucks in the car park, holding a Thermos flask and a pale blue Tupperware container. ‘That’s him,’ said Halpin. ‘Reg McKenzie.’

‘You’re sure?’ asked Richards. They were both sitting in the Bentley, across the road from the trucking firm.  There were five trucks parked a short distance away from a Portakabin that served as the transport company’s office.

‘The drivers always have the same trucks,’ said Halpin.

Richards opened the door. ‘Come on then,’ he said.

‘We’re going to do it here?’

‘Strike while the iron’s hot,’ said Richards.

Halpin got out of the car and the two men walked through the metal gates and into the car park. ‘Mr McKenzie!’ called Richards. ‘We’d like a word, please.’

McKenzie had been about to climb into the cab of his truck but he stopped and dropped back to the ground.  He frowned at the two men, holding his Thermos and sandwiches to his chest.

‘Not D.O.T are you?’ asked McKenzie. ‘I keep getting the tachograph checked, it’s not my bloody fault.’

‘We’re not Department of Transport, we just want a chat about the woman you picked up on Friday night.’

‘Bloody hell, she was in the middle of nowhere, I could hardly leave her there could I? You’ve not told the boss have you?’

‘No need to bother your boss with this, Reg. No need to bother anyone.’

McKenzie frowned and squinted at the two men. ‘What is this? Who are you?’

‘We just need to know who she was, that’s all.’

‘What’s it to you?’

Halpin stepped forward menacingly but Richards held up his hand. ‘It’s all right, Mick, Reg just wants to know where he stands and that’s fair enough. Why did she say she was out in the middle of nowhere, Reg?’

‘Her car broke down, that’s what she said.’

‘Well now, you see, Reg, that’s not strictly speaking the truth. She hit my car, that’s what happened. Damn near wrote it off. I’d parked outside a mate’s house and she ran into the back of it.  Buggered up both cars. She must have legged it and flagged you down.’

McKenzie nodded slowly. ‘That makes sense,’ he said. ‘She’d been drinking, that much I know.’

‘And no shoes, did you notice that?’

McKenzie laughed.  ‘Yeah, that was funny. So she smashed your motor, did she?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Why not just call the cops? They’ll trace her.’

Richards pulled a face. ‘I’ve a bit of a problem with my insurance, Reg. I don’t have her details. You know how it is. The last thing I want is the cops sticking their nose in. I’ve got her car. If I can just talk to her, I’m sure she’ll understand that the best thing to do is for her just to make good the damage. Let’s face it, if she’d been drinking, then she’s not going to want the cops involved, is she?’

‘Bloody right,’ said McKenzie. ‘Not with her being famous and all.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Richards.

McKenzie lowered his voice. ‘Carolyn Castle, that’s who she is,’ he said. ‘She’s on that show, Rags To Riches. My wife loves it.’

‘You’re not serious?’ said Halpin.

‘God’s truth,’ said McKenzie. ‘She’s sending me a signed photo for the wife. Lovely lady.’ He frowned. ‘Not the sort to run away from an accident,’ he said.

‘Who is this Carolyn Castle?” asked Richards.

‘She’s a soap opera star,’ said Halpin. ‘Rags To Riches, the show about the fashion business.’

Richards shrugged. ‘Never seen it.’

‘It’s big,’ said Halpin.

‘Look, I don’t want to get her into trouble,’ said McKenzie. ‘She was lovely. A real lady.’

‘No one’s going to get into trouble, Reg,’ said Richards. ‘The insurance companies will handle it. I’m insured and I’m sure she is. We just need to exchange details. It’s not as if anyone got hurt. So where did you drop her, Reg, that night?’

‘Took her home, I did. Notting Hill Gate. Big house with one of those Japanese cherry blossom things in front of it. Must have cost her millions.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Look, I’ve got to go. Traffic’s a bitch on the M1 and I have to be in Brum by two.’

Richards patted him on the shoulder. ‘No problem, Reg, thanks for your time. And you drive carefully.’

As McKenzie walked to his truck, Richards took his cigar case from his jacket pocket. He bit off the end and spat it to the floor as Halpin fumbled in his pocket for a box of matches.

‘So you know this Carolyn Castle?’ asked Richards.

‘Sure, I watch the show all the time.’

‘You’re winding me up, right?  Since when have you been a soap opera fan?’

Halpin struck a match and lit the cigar for Richards. ‘There’s some fit birds on it. Okay, not all the time but if I’m in and it’s on I’ll watch it.’

‘And it was her, right? Her that you chased?’

‘I only saw the back of her but, yeah, I’d say it was her.’

‘She’s famous, yeah?’

‘Yeah, she’s always on the cover of one magazine or another. She’s forty-odd, but I’d give her one.’

‘That’s good to know,’ said Richards.  He headed back to his Bentley and Halpin followed.

‘One of the actors on the show is a regular at the club,’ said Halpin.

‘Is he now?’

‘Yeah, guy called Seb Lawton. He plays her husband on the show. He’s in our VIP room every week or so, usually with some rent boy in tow. Drops a lot of money. Perfect customer.’

‘But not her? Please don’t tell me she’s a regular?’

‘Never seen her. He doesn’t tend to hang out with women. Not at our club anyway. He likes us because we let him use the private entrance and we keep the paparazzi away.’

Richards opened the car door and they both climbed in.  ‘I’m going to have to lose the Bentley,’ he said. ‘She must have seen it.’

‘What about Cohen’s car?’

‘Parked it at the airport,’ said Richards.  He started the engine and drove off. ‘It’ll be months before anyone notices it hasn’t been collected and it’ll muddy the waters. Make them think he’s done a runner. Tell you what, I’ll drive us home and then you can find a lock-up for the Bentley. I’ll use the Porsche.’

‘And what about her?’ asked Halpin.

‘I don’t know,’ said Richards.

‘She must have seen us.’

‘She saw you shooting at her, that’s for sure.’

‘She was running before I fired. So she must have seen something.’

‘We don’t know that for sure,’ said Richards. ‘And even if she saw Cohen getting whacked, that doesn’t mean she saw our faces.’

‘Better safe than sorry, boss.’

Richards looked across at him. ‘What do you mean?’

Halpin made a gun with his hand and mimed firing it.

‘She’s a bloody soap opera star,’ said Richards. ‘The cops’ll go crazy. Remember the shitstorm when Jill Dando got shot?’

‘Yeah, and they never found out who did it, either,’ said Halpin.

‘If she saw something, why didn’t she go straight to the cops,’ said Richards. ‘I know there’s no mobile phone signal near Cohen’s place but when she was in the truck she could have called. And she obviously didn’t say anything to Reg.’

‘Yeah, I don’t get that either,’ said Halpin. ‘Why didn’t she tell him what had happened?’

‘Maybe she didn’t see anything. She told Reg her car had broken down so maybe that’s what happened. She breaks down and goes looking for help. Comes to Cohen’s house and then gets spooked when the security lights go on. You go hurtling out with your gun and she runs for it. She doesn’t go to the cops because she knows she was trespassing.’

‘You think that’s what happened?’

‘It’s a possibility, right?’

‘I don’t know, boss.’

Richards fell silent again. He drove and smoked his cigar.

‘Boss?’

‘Yeah?’

‘I’d feel safer if we took care of her. If she did see us…’

‘Yeah, but what if she didn’t? She’s a civilian, you don’t fuck around with civilians unless you don’t have a choice. Here’s the thing, if she could identify us, the cops would be all over us already.  If she gave them a description it wouldn’t take long for them to find us. They’d look at Cohen’s client list and our names would jump out at them. And, with an eyewitness, they might think they have enough to charge us even without his body.’ He chuckled. ‘That’s one good thing about all this, Cohen’s at the bottom of the North Sea where no one can get him.’

‘So what are you thinking? We just forget about her?’

‘We need to know what she saw,’ said Richards. ‘We need to know one way or the other if she knows what I did. If she didn’t see us, then we can relax. But if she did…’

‘Yeah, but how exactly do we do that?’

Richards took another long pull on his cigar. ‘This Seb guy. You know him enough to talk to him?’

‘If he’s in the club, sure.’

‘Have you got his number?’

‘We gave him a VIP card. They’ll have his number on file.’

‘How about you give him a bell? Ask him if he can come along to that charity thing we’re doing on Friday.  Tell him we’ll give him a free table and ask him if he’ll bring a few of the cast. See if you can get him to bring her. But be tactful, yeah?’

‘Tactful is my middle name, boss.’

‘No, your middle name is pull out my fucking gun and shoot anything that moves,’ said Richards. ‘I’m serious. I want her at the do but I don’t want her to know I’m the one doing the asking. Get her there with a group of the actors and I’ll bump into her.’

Halpin grinned. ‘Consider it done, boss.’

Richards blew another cloud of cigar smoke. ‘Just don’t fuck it up,’ he said.

CHAPTER 28

Wednesday was an early start. Carolyn had to be in make-up by six and in front of the camera by seven.  There were three scenes to be done by lunchtime and Carolyn could see from Harrington’s face that he was under pressure.

The first scene was a three-hander with Jaymee and an actor who was a semi-regular on the show.  Jaymee had really lifted her game and they wrapped up the first scene on the third take.

The second scene was an exterior, a quick conversation between Carolyn and Andrea in the car park. Exteriors were always a problem sound-wise because they were on the flight path to Heathrow and if the wind was in the wrong direction, the engine noise could ruin a take. Luck was on their side and the only time a plane flew overhead was when they were setting up for Carolyn’s close-up.