Monkey Business (3 page)

‘No details.' I nodded once, serious. ‘When do you want me to go?'

‘Tonight.'

Okay, so I told Lucy I was on a case for the Team and, yes, that was more than I'd intended saying, but it was easier if she knew I had something important to do. Otherwise she'd make me get drunk and dance. But Lucy is also sensible and trustworthy – she saved Jack's life after all – so when she suggested we go in disguise, because it was an undercover thing, I agreed straightaway. Lucy arrived at my place looking exactly like Lucy.

‘I thought you wanted to go in disguise,' I said.

‘I
am
in disguise. Do you ever see me in anything other than a nurse's uniform?'

Good point. ‘What have you got for me?' I indicated the bag she was carrying.

‘This!' She whipped a wig from the bag. A straight, shoulder-length blonde one. It couldn't have been more different to my unmanageable brunette mane.

‘Why do you own a wig?' I said.

‘Remember when I had that nightmare haircut? I wore this until it grew out.'

‘That's right. I remember.'

‘It's a good wig.'

And so it was. We looked like the Bobbsey Twins except I was a lot taller. I liked myself as a blonde.

The plan was that Jack would be around. He was going to park somewhere nearby and we'd be in touch by phone. He was worried about me, I could tell, and I thought that was sweet.

There was a long queue at the club. I shivered, hopping from foot to foot, rubbing my bare arms. I was dressed like a hooker because from what I'd seen – usually driving past on my way home from a movie or dinner – that's how you were supposed to dress for a place like this. I was wearing a skirt that sat just under my bum, a strappy top and frighteningly high heels. Anyway, I knew I was wearing the right thing because every other girl in the line was dressed the same. Although mostly they looked a lot younger than me.

My phone buzzed in my bag. A message from Jack:
Are you there yet? I've been looking for you
.

I glanced around. Couldn't see him. I messaged back:
In the q
.

Where?

Nr the back. I'm blonde!
I smiled when I thought about him reading that. Where was he? Sitting in a car somewhere with binoculars?

Walk to the front of the queue, tell security your first names and he'll let you in.

I told Lucy and as we walked I messaged:
Ur sposed 2 abrev8.
I gave the guy our names and he let us in.

Jack replied:
We've had this conversation. I refuse. And you look . . . Jesus, be careful.

Now that made me smile. The zoo had been a fizzer. Not in a zoo sense but in a romantic sense. After our conversation beside the monkey den, with Jack showing me photos of the guy in question, we'd had our picnic, which could have led to something smoochy and nice, but all I could think about was my assignment, and I'd found I was checking my watch all the time, knowing I needed to call Lucy and go shopping for something to wear.

Inside the club we elbowed our way through the crowd and my phone vibrated again. Another message from Jack, this time with a photo attached:
He's just arrived.

Okay, so now I knew what the guy was wearing. I looked around but didn't see him.

Lucy yelled, ‘Let's have champagne!'

‘I can't. It'll make me drunk and I need to be alert.'

‘Spoilsport.'

‘I'll have beer,' I said. ‘Jack's buying our drinks, by the way.'

‘Well, in that case I'll have real champagne!'

‘He'd expect no less.' I handed her a fifty. Jack had given me three hundred dollars. I don't know what the hell he thought I'd be doing with all that money.

While she was at the bar, I saw the guy. He wasn't hard to spot with his carrot-coloured hair. He was talking to some other guy – a pretty cute dark-haired one actually – across the room. Lucy returned with my beer and I sipped on it, watching my target.

It didn't take long for Carrot Top to find the guy I assumed was his dealer. Even from a distance their conversation looked shady, with my guy checking something in the other guy's hand and then giving him money in exchange for something.

Lucy was talking to someone next to me. I was surprised to see the cute dark-haired guy cosying up to her. She was laughing with him but not in a flirty way. I knew Lucy – she'd give him a few minutes and send him on his way well before he got any ideas. I looked for my guy again but he'd disappeared. I said to Luce, ‘I'll be back in a minute.'

She nodded and I pushed through the crowd (God, it was hard work. Why did people think this was fun?) to where I'd seen him a minute earlier. Some kid slobbered in my ear, ‘Best lookin' old chick here,' and I brushed him off, wiping the drool from my shoulder. Old chick! Hmph.

I spotted my guy again, heading for the back of the room, where he disappeared through a set of double doors. It took me a couple more minutes to reach those doors, which were ajar. I peered into the dimly lit VIP area and saw the redhead sitting on a couch, laughing with a bunch of people. He rolled what looked like a fifty-dollar note, leaned forward, head right down, then sat up again and wiped his nose. Snorting coke? I had no idea but supposed it wasn't self-raising flour. This was evidence I needed to pass on to Jack. I headed back to where Lucy was still talking to the cute guy. As I approached, I could see she was getting agitated and trying to brush him off. In an instant his laughter turned to a snarl; he grabbed Lucy's breast and twisted. I barged through the crowd. Lucy punched the guy's chest and he raised his fist to hit her. I rushed in and pushed him; he shoved me and I fell backwards, landing hard on my bum. A young guy stepped in but the bastard punched him right in the face. The kid hit the floor and didn't move. Blood poured from his nose. Someone stood on my hand. Lucy was crouching over the unconscious guy.

‘Let's get out of here,' I shouted to Luce, struggling to my feet.

Security guards surrounded us. Lucy said to them, ‘He needs an ambulance. He was just trying to help us.' I looked for the culprit but he'd disappeared.

We stumbled out of the nightclub onto the street. I was worried about the unconscious guy – I didn't think the security guards would look after him. Lucy was calling an ambulance and I called Jack.

I said, ‘Something happened. We had to leave.'

‘I'm coming,' he said. ‘Where are you?'

Jack pulled up in front of us about ten seconds later and we scrambled into the back of the car. As he sped away from the kerb he asked, ‘What happened?' His anxious eyes were watching me in the rear-view mirror. I think I was in shock. Did this kind of thing go on every night in these places?

‘For fuck's sake,' said Lucy, finding her voice. She was rubbing her breast where the guy had grabbed her.

I squeezed her hand. ‘Sorry, hon.'

‘It's not your fault. That guy . . . what a psycho!'

Jack kept glancing at us in the mirror. Not questioning, giving us time to recover. We pulled up in front of my house and he helped me from the car.

Lucy said, ‘I'm just going to head straight home.'

Jack said, ‘I'll drive you.'

She nodded. ‘Thanks.'

He said to me, ‘I'll come straight back. You're okay?'

‘Yes.'

By the time Jack arrived I'd transformed into my usual scruffy self. Tracky daks, Ugg boots and no wig. When I opened the door to let him in, the tears finally came and I collapsed theatrically against him.

He held me and said softly, ‘Lucy told me what happened.'

‘Is she okay?'

‘Yes. Steve was there.'

‘That guy . . . and I'm worried about the kid who tried to help us. I thought that man had killed him!' I hiccupped a sob.

Jack walked me down the passage to the living room. ‘I just dropped by the club,' he said. ‘He was all right. The ambulance was there.'

‘Really?'

He nodded. ‘I spoke to him. He was angry, but fine.'

‘Okay.' I took a great shuddering breath and sat on the sofa.

Jack asked if I wanted a drink.

‘Yes. Cup of tea.'

He went to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

‘I want English Breakfast,' I called out.

‘All right.'

‘With milk but don't put the milk in straightaway.'

‘Okay.'

‘Let it brew for a while but don't jiggle the bag. Not too much milk. I don't like it milky. And one sugar but just a level spoonful . . . hold on, what mug are you using?'

‘Maybe you should make it.'

I went to the kitchen. Jack dusted off the coffee machine. I poured boiling water into my mug and leaned against the bench, sniffing and sighing. I held up my hand. ‘Someone stood on it,' I said, my bottom lip trembling.

Jack took my hand and kissed each finger in turn, the back of it three times, and my palm. ‘Better?'

‘Yes.'

He pulled me against him, arms tight around me. ‘I'm sorry I asked you to go there.'

‘That kind of thing must go on all the time in places like that.'

‘I suppose. But I didn't think you'd be in any real danger. I would never —'

‘I know,' I said, feeling suddenly guilty about being such a sooky-la-la. I pushed him back so he could see my face. ‘I'm fine, really.' I gave him a little smile. ‘I bet you want to know about your guy.'

‘When you're ready.'

We sat next to each other on the sofa and I told Jack exactly what I'd seen the redhead doing.

He nodded. ‘That's important information. I can't have him on my team.'

‘So, it was worth all my pain? The pain of being in that horrible place?' I smiled so he knew I didn't mean it. Even though I did.

‘Nothing is worth your pain.' He pushed a curl behind my ear.

I set down my tea, turned and lay across him. He cradled me and I stroked his hair and he smiled gently down at me.