new singer on her books...'
'Who's
that?'
'She's called
Tracy Pert. She's just made her first record.'
'I don't think
I've heard of her. Of course I'm not really up on who's in and
who's out on the pop scene.'
'Tracy's very
popular. Imogen has high hopes for her.'
'Have you seen
her perform?'
'Yes, I have.
Sort of. She's a friend of mine.'
'Tracy Pert,'
Candy repeated to herself. 'Wait a minute. She's that pin-up girl,
isn't she?'
'Yes, she's
really very talented.'
'Good God.'
The lead in Candy's pencil broke with a loud crack. 'And she's a
friend of yours, is she?'
'Er, yes.'
'And I suppose
she's the reason you're standing there with that silly look on your
face and your penis half out of your pants.' Suddenly Candy was
spitting blood. She was out of her chair and throwing Billy's
clothes in his direction, her eyes blazing and the red flush of
anger in her cheeks.
'You can cover
up your equipment right now, Mr Dazzle, and then you can clear off.
I tell you categorically that no lowlife slum child with
elephantiasis of the mammaries is going to ruin my evening of
classical entertainment. Got that?'
Chapter
17
In the
dining-room of Emmeline's, Pandora Britches' club, Pandy and Sophie
shared a secluded corner banquette. It was an elegant room full of
light though not of people. Which suited both parties.
The two women
sized one another up. Pandora wore a crisp blue shirt and designer
jeans, her hair pinned back in a wooden barrette and she observed
Sophie through scarlet-framed spectacles that obscured half her
face. She appeared purposeful and efficient, in contrast to Sophie
who looked as if she had dressed in a hurry. Her auburn curls
billowed untidily around her shoulders and the black lycra
mini-dress, which showed off every sumptuous curve of her
voluptuous body, was distinctly inappropriate in the asexual
surroundings of the most aggressive women's club in London. Sophie
oozed sex. The effect was entirely intentional.
'You're not
exactly how I pictured you,' said Pandora, 'I expected someone
rather more... well, rather less attractive.'
'Same here,' said Sophie. 'I thought you'd be dressed in
tweeds. I've read some of your revues in The Rag you come over as a hardline
feminist dyke.'
'Well, I've got to trim my copy to the readership. I also
write for the Blizzard , don't forget.'
'How could I?
That's why we're here. Where's Mrs Fretwork?'
'Patsy won't
be joining us. I'm sure you understand.'
'Not exactly.
It's her I want to talk to.'
'She can't go
out while this big serial is going on. We can't have any of our
rivals getting wind of her. They're beasts. They'd spoil anything,
given the chance.'
'So where is
she?'
'Somewhere
secret.'
'Safe from her
husband?'
'He's no
problem, he's in Spain.'
'He can hardly be unaware of what she's saying about him every
day in the Blizzard . He won't be happy.'
'So you think
he might come after her? And that's why you're so interested.'
'Exactly. Of
course, Danny also has many associates still active here. Apart
from keeping Mrs Fretwork out of sight, I hope you are taking steps
to ensure her safety.'
Pandora took a
long sip of her mineral water and said, 'You're not offering police
protection, by any chance?'
'Well, if you
could put up with me for a bit...'
'You?'
'You thought I
meant a couple of strapping male detectives, I suppose. No chance.
It's me or nothing. I can assure you I can be very effective if it
comes to the rough stuff. I've been trained. I also have other
methods of enforcement.'
'I'm sure you
do.'
'I'd keep out
of the way, if that's what's bothering you.'
'I'm not sure
that I'd want you to, you're far too attractive.' And she put her
hand on Sophie's thigh beneath the tablecloth. Sophie did not
attempt to remove it.
A waitress
appeared and set a plate of crudités in front of them.
'Bring us a
bottle of Louis Roederer Crystal,' ordered Pandora.
Sophie's
eyebrows rose a notch.
'Don't worry,
sergeant, I don't expect the
'Who's
that?'
'She's called
Tracy Pert. She's just made her first record.'
'I don't think
I've heard of her. Of course I'm not really up on who's in and
who's out on the pop scene.'
'Tracy's very
popular. Imogen has high hopes for her.'
'Have you seen
her perform?'
'Yes, I have.
Sort of. She's a friend of mine.'
'Tracy Pert,'
Candy repeated to herself. 'Wait a minute. She's that pin-up girl,
isn't she?'
'Yes, she's
really very talented.'
'Good God.'
The lead in Candy's pencil broke with a loud crack. 'And she's a
friend of yours, is she?'
'Er, yes.'
'And I suppose
she's the reason you're standing there with that silly look on your
face and your penis half out of your pants.' Suddenly Candy was
spitting blood. She was out of her chair and throwing Billy's
clothes in his direction, her eyes blazing and the red flush of
anger in her cheeks.
'You can cover
up your equipment right now, Mr Dazzle, and then you can clear off.
I tell you categorically that no lowlife slum child with
elephantiasis of the mammaries is going to ruin my evening of
classical entertainment. Got that?'
Chapter
17
In the
dining-room of Emmeline's, Pandora Britches' club, Pandy and Sophie
shared a secluded corner banquette. It was an elegant room full of
light though not of people. Which suited both parties.
The two women
sized one another up. Pandora wore a crisp blue shirt and designer
jeans, her hair pinned back in a wooden barrette and she observed
Sophie through scarlet-framed spectacles that obscured half her
face. She appeared purposeful and efficient, in contrast to Sophie
who looked as if she had dressed in a hurry. Her auburn curls
billowed untidily around her shoulders and the black lycra
mini-dress, which showed off every sumptuous curve of her
voluptuous body, was distinctly inappropriate in the asexual
surroundings of the most aggressive women's club in London. Sophie
oozed sex. The effect was entirely intentional.
'You're not
exactly how I pictured you,' said Pandora, 'I expected someone
rather more... well, rather less attractive.'
'Same here,' said Sophie. 'I thought you'd be dressed in
tweeds. I've read some of your revues in The Rag you come over as a hardline
feminist dyke.'
'Well, I've got to trim my copy to the readership. I also
write for the Blizzard , don't forget.'
'How could I?
That's why we're here. Where's Mrs Fretwork?'
'Patsy won't
be joining us. I'm sure you understand.'
'Not exactly.
It's her I want to talk to.'
'She can't go
out while this big serial is going on. We can't have any of our
rivals getting wind of her. They're beasts. They'd spoil anything,
given the chance.'
'So where is
she?'
'Somewhere
secret.'
'Safe from her
husband?'
'He's no
problem, he's in Spain.'
'He can hardly be unaware of what she's saying about him every
day in the Blizzard . He won't be happy.'
'So you think
he might come after her? And that's why you're so interested.'
'Exactly. Of
course, Danny also has many associates still active here. Apart
from keeping Mrs Fretwork out of sight, I hope you are taking steps
to ensure her safety.'
Pandora took a
long sip of her mineral water and said, 'You're not offering police
protection, by any chance?'
'Well, if you
could put up with me for a bit...'
'You?'
'You thought I
meant a couple of strapping male detectives, I suppose. No chance.
It's me or nothing. I can assure you I can be very effective if it
comes to the rough stuff. I've been trained. I also have other
methods of enforcement.'
'I'm sure you
do.'
'I'd keep out
of the way, if that's what's bothering you.'
'I'm not sure
that I'd want you to, you're far too attractive.' And she put her
hand on Sophie's thigh beneath the tablecloth. Sophie did not
attempt to remove it.
A waitress
appeared and set a plate of crudités in front of them.
'Bring us a
bottle of Louis Roederer Crystal,' ordered Pandora.
Sophie's
eyebrows rose a notch.
'Don't worry,
sergeant, I don't expect the
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