CHARLEY
I sattowards the far end of the coffee shop, my back to the wall, and in clear sight of the door. The table was big enough I hoped nobody would see my knees knocking. I was halfway through my first drink when the door blew open and Ledge stomped in. He swept the room, his eyes narrowing when they landed on me. I held his gaze until he was addressed by the barista and had to look away to order. Razor was with him. I now felt stupid for having suggested he accompany Ledge; being outnumbered two to one was making my pulse race, and I could feel a cold sweat trickle down between my shoulder blades. I straightened my spine and tried to look confident in my eye liner and battered leather jacket.
Razor dumped the helmets on the bench next to me, and threw his jacket on the seat between me and the door. Great, Ledge had him primed as guard dog. He responded to my curt nod with a head jerk, then the minutest flicker of one eye thatcouldhave been a wink, before he returned to the counter to fetch his drink.
Ledge got straight to the point. “Tell me why we shouldn’t drag you straight to headquarters and deal with you? We already know you’re a lying sack of shit, you little poof.”
I forced myself not to squirm, and took a deep breath. “I know I’m gay. As does anyone with half a brain cell. I’ve never hidden it. It doesn’t make me a murderer.” I pressed down on my right leg which was starting to jiggle. “I was scared, all right? I said the first thing that came into my head when I was accused. Which was fucking dumb, but you’re a scary man, Ledge. Nobody wants to cross you. Plus I was upset about Chip.”
“Yeah?” he sneered. “Bending over for him, were you?” I evidently didn’t manage to disguise my start of shock at how accurate this was: his lip curled as he enlightened me. “Yeah, he was a faggot too.” He cracked his knuckles while he stared at me. “Was about to have a little chat with him, but someone else beat me to it.” His brow furrowed as he leaned across the table. “And that’s the bit I don’t get. Why would a snivelling little turd like you off one of his own? Thought you bum boys stuck together?”
I matched his sneer with one of my own, anger making me bold. “Not much chance of an LGBT wing of the Wyverns, is there? I only knew he was gay the week before he died. Because he told me. Surprised me as much as anyone.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “But I didn’t kill him. What possible reason would I have had? Sounds like you either know or suspect we fucked, which we did, but I’m not ashamed of it. He couldn’t have blackmailed me because I’ve never hidden my sexuality, and I doubt he was the type anyway. He was a club member, so he had more to lose. I’m just the cleaner.”
“Was,” said Razor. “Was the cleaner.”
I shot him a pithy glance. “Fully aware of my current employment status, thanks, Raze.” I took a deep breath, then a gulp of coffee, before steeling myself to look Ledge straight in the eye. “I don’t care how or why you think I did it. I didn’t. Chip was as near to a mate as I had at the club, not that it’s saying much. And yeah, I was a dickhead to lie about being at The Dive. I am sorry about that.”
He stared me down, but I forced myself not to blink. “You’ve got bigger balls than I figured, coming home with a target on your back.” When I remained silent, he toyed with a sugar packet for a moment before asking, “How d’you explain your fingerprints then?”
“You had ’em police checked?” I shot back. I wasn’t on any data base to my knowledge; had never been in trouble, so I suddenly wondered how kosher their information was. How did they even know what my fingerprints were like? Why the hell hadn’t I challenged this earlier? Fuck, I was so stupid. Although possibly not as dense as Ledge if he was accusing me with no proof.
Razor and Ledge exchanged a wordless conversation. Finally Ledge grumbled, “The knife’s still in custody.”
“So how d’you even know it’s got my prints on it?” When neither of them answered, I rolled my eyes. “Fuck’s sake. Do you even have any proof it does?”
Ledge’s scowl intensified. “You still haven’t explained where you actually were the night Chip died. Don’t go acting like your shit don’t stink.”
I crossed the fingers of my left hand under the table, and prayed Baxter was the technical genius she professed to be. With an unasked for but convincing blush, I stumbled my way through a halting confession about chancing upon the keys to Ritzy’s and swiping them with the intention of showing off to my latest fuck buddy. “It was really stupid, I know,” I bleated pathetically. “I don’t know why I said I was at The Dive.”
Ledge had his phone out before I’d finished, on the line to Tad, who ran security at Ritzy’s. “Yeah, I’ll hold.” I concentrated on keeping my breathing even, and sipped at my cooling latte, admiring my newly-applied black nail polish, which was already chipped.
“Ahh, Christ, I don’t need details. Jesus, really?” His voice was strident in the quiet of the café, and several patrons looked our way. Razor sat up straighter and glowered at everyone in sight. Ledge continued. “Right, yeah, cheers, mate. For Chrissake don’t record over it. I dunno. Call the security company and sort it that way? Yeah, I know, but seems like it’s evidence. All right. Yeah, best do that too.”
He shoved his mobile in a pocket, and eyed me with even more distaste than usual. “Seems you were telling the truth this time.”Baxter, I bloody love you.“Of course, we’ll be handing it over to the police to verify it’s you, although Tad didn’t seem to be in any doubt.” His sneer returned. “You’re disgusting, you know that?”
“You’re only jealous ’cause I’ve never offered to do you,” I shot back. “I’d ruin you for women forever.”
Oh Christ, I think my heart’s just stopped. You utter moron, Entwhistle.
Razor was staring at me like my best bet would be slitting my own throat right here at the table.Yeah, man, I know. I’ve got the biggest gob this side of the Fens.
To the immense shock of both of us, and my everlasting relief, Ledge chuckled. “For a skinny punk kid, you’ve got some serious bottle, I give you that. Shame you’re not a biker. Or straight. You might have made a half decent member.”
“You do realise,” I said acidly, “that riding something powerful that throbs between my thighs is kind of my superpower? And that the only reason I don’t have a bike is because I can’t afford one.”
“Don’tyouforget you’re still a dirty little slut who’ll probably die of Aids,” he shot back at me. Ah yes, there was the Ledge I knew and loathed. I bit my tongue, and waited for inspiration to strike. Ahh!
I fumbled in my pocket, and my hand closed around the keys Baxter had arranged to have dropped through my letter box. “I, er, have the keys for Ritzy’s.”
Razor held out his hand. “Gimme.”
Reluctantly, I handed them over. He clicked his tongue, and held them up to Ledge. “Yeah, they’re Fish’s, like he described ’em. Careless fucker.” A key ring in the shape of a skeleton fish dangled from his finger.
Ledge grunted. “I’ll deal with him later. Question is, what we gonna do about the pervert?” He jerked a thumb in my direction.
Razor shrugged. “Can’t do much, can we? It’s only Stanno’s word we’ve got that it was Charley’s prints on the knife. It’s a police matter now. It looks like the video will exonerate him.”
Ledge looked as if someone had pissed in his coffee. “You ain’t getting your job back. And don’t bloody disappear again. Fuck knows where you got to, but you cost my men a lot of wasted time searching for you.”
