She heard low voices and recognised Nose-stud and Kai.
Both of them were quite business-like in their movements as he bent Nose-stud over a kitchen table. Hanlon tapped her fingers impatiently, waiting for them to finish. It didn’t take long.
After they’d rearranged their clothes, he reached his hand into his shirt pocket, took out a paper wrap and chopped out a couple of lines. Their heads bent, first one, then the other.
Nose-stud stood looking at Kai questioningly.
‘Well?’ she said.
‘Well what?’ he sneered.
‘Where’s my coke?’ Koks für sex, remembered Hanlon.
‘You’ve had it.’ It was clear that she had let him have her in exchange for drugs, and she had been expecting a hell of a lot more than a line. To say that Nose-stud was feeling short-changed and aggrieved would be a huge understatement.
‘WHAT?’ Furious.
‘Go on, off you go.’ Kai’s tone was curt, dismissive. ‘You’ve had your fun, that’s all you’re getting. Now, offski!’
‘But, we had an agreement… Three grams!’
So that was how much it cost to have sex with her, thought Hanlon.
‘Sorry, darling.’ The barman’s face was a hard sneer. ‘That was then, this is now. Anyway, you were nae worth it.’
Hanlon could see the fury on Nose-stud’s face lit by the eerie blue flame of the gas. She almost felt sorry for her. What a shit night she’d been having. Coke taken by Hanlon, now ripped off and insulted by Kai. All that sex for nothing.
He was standing with his arms folded staring down the Eastern European girl. Her hands, balled into fists, were resting, knuckles down on the silver-coloured metal of the work table. Her eyes flickered around the room.
Hanlon suddenly thought, She’s looking for a weapon. I would get out, Kai, if I were you.
On the wall near where she was standing was a magnetic strip holding several knives. Nose-stud suddenly darted a hand out and grabbed one with a ten-centimetre blade, tapering to a vicious-looking point. She waved the knife menacingly in his direction.
‘Give me that coke, you bastard!’
Kai took a step backwards, his left hand held up placatingly. From her hiding place Hanlon wondered whether to intervene. She decided against it. If Nose-Stud saw her in her present ill humour she would probably stab her. If it hadn’t been for Hanlon, she wouldn’t be in this position anyway.
‘Calm down, Franca,’ he said soothingly.
‘I want my coke, now…’ She took a pace towards him, the knife rock-steady in her hand.
Kai was backed up against the work surface. Hanlon saw him reach his right hand behind him. It closed around the handle of a frying pan.
‘OK, Franca,’ he said submissively, ‘I’m sorry… you win.’
Franca smiled in triumph, too soon.
With incredible speed he swung the frying pan from behind him.
You don’t do things like that without practice, thought Hanlon. Kai was obviously no stranger to violence.
It struck Franca at the elbow and automatically her hand opened. It sent the knife spinning across the room. She cried out in pain and grabbed her injured arm.
Kai, no gentleman, stepped forward and slapped her viciously across the face with the flat of his hand. Much as she disliked Nose-stud, or Franca as she was apparently called, Hanlon felt another twinge of sympathy for her. She was having a truly dreadful night. Now, on top of everything, she’d been beaten up.
‘If you threaten me ever again, I’ll kill you, understand!’ His face was contorted with rage. ‘Now fuck off back to your friends, bitch.’
Anger and pain were imprinted on Franca’s face. ‘Fuck you, you fucking pussy!’ she snarled. ‘I’ve got friends, they’ll cut you bad—’
‘Oh, like your sugar daddies,’ sneered Kai. ‘I’m so scared.’
‘I’ve got friends in Glasgow,’ said Franca. ‘I used to work for Wee Paul McFarlane, maybe I’ll text him.’
‘Go ahead. Text him now, see if I care.’
‘That’s not a maybe… I text him tomorrow. When I get reception on my phone.’ Franca marched to the door then turned. ‘Take some selfies for the memories, Kai. You won’t look so pretty soon.’
She left the kitchen, slamming the door behind her.
‘Jesus, fucking women…’ He lit a cigarette and stood framed in the kitchen door. He finished it quickly and came back inside. He ran his hands through his hair so it stuck up; he didn’t look so confident now. ‘Shite… Wee Paulie…’ He shook his head. Hanlon realised he was very frightened indeed.
The kitchen light came on, bathing the room in harsh white light.
Hanlon pulled her door shut. She stood there in the darkness. It seemed to be a night of listening behind closed doors.
‘I thought it might be you.’ A woman’s voice. An educated, refined Edinburgh accent.
‘Who else would it be?’ he said.
‘Maybe a couple of guests slipping out, keen to do it in a kitchen. We are catering for fantasies to a certain extent.’
‘Is that right, Harriet? Sure you just haven’t had enough of the party?’ His voice was faintly mocking.
‘Don’t you be so snotty,’ Harriet said wearily. ‘Jim’s parties help keep this place afloat, you know that. They pay your wages, give you a chance to entertain our guests, as I know you’ve been doing tonight with that whore from the boat.’
Hanlon stored this information away in her mind.
‘Not to mention the coke that you’re dealing to the clients,’ Harriet added.
‘You get your cut,’ he muttered.
Harriet laughed. ‘Remember which side your bread’s buttered, Kai.’
‘Come on,’ he said. ‘It’s not just the sex parties. I know what you and Jim are up to with those boys.’
There was a silence. The kind of silence that was meaningful, full of unknown significance. Kai’s words obviously meant a great deal to Harriet.
‘I’m sorry? Boys? What boys?’ Harriet was obviously annoyed by the question, trying and failing to indicate it meant nothing to her. ‘What are you on about?’
‘Never mind, Harriet, just a rumour…’
A rumour I shall be chasing, Hanlon thought. Boys… underage sex? She heard the well-modulated tones of Dr Morgan in her head, back in the consulting room in North
