Wednesday 6 October 1971
It wasn’t until the taxi got within striking distance of the Barbican that he realised they weren’t going to Knightsbridge. That was where they always went when they left the Clermont, although at that precise moment, for all he knew then, they might have been heading for Paris or Milan. The mist was still in his eyes, making him oblivious to his surroundings. But as they approached the City, the mist was lifting, and the familiar cold touch of reality was beginning to take its place.
‘Have you got anything to drink?’ she asked. She had folded her arms in front of her, and was walking slowly into the living room on her high heels, gingerly, as if she did not entirely trust the carpet to support her weight.
He pointed to the bottle of scotch on the small mahogany table by the fireplace. She poured a glass for each of them, neat.
‘Did they clean you out?’ she asked.
He stared at her for some time. Incredibly, even now, a desire for her was stirring in him.
‘Yes.’
She looked away from him.
‘Do you have anything left to pay Danny?’
‘Not tomorrow – or today, I should say. I will have to make some arrangements.’
She frowned, agitated.
‘Arrangements again? Arrangements are not going to cut it, Conrad.’
He felt himself getting angry.
‘What else can I do? I’m not a millionaire with an endless supply of money to throw around all over the place, Greta. I never have been. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.’
It was the kind of reply that, at Knightsbridge, in the past, when they had undressed, would have led to a vigorous spanking. But not tonight. She barely reacted.
‘I’m not talking about me,’ she replied quietly. ‘I’m saying that won’t cut it with Danny. Danny isn’t interested in arrangements; he’s interested in money, and £20,000 is a lot of money.’
‘Well, he will just have to be patient won’t he?’ he said.
He had sat down on the sofa. She came to sit by his side.
‘Conrad, do you know who Danny Cleary is? Do you know anything about him?’
He looked at her.
‘Yes, I know about Cleary. His name has come up in the trial I’m doing. He’s a small-time drug dealer who thinks he’s big enough to be a loan shark, a big bad man who will shake people down if they don’t pay.’
‘He is a loan shark,’ she replied. ‘He’s not at the top of the syndicate, but believe me, he has some very unpleasant associates, and he has some even more unpleasant people he has to report to. He can get very nasty if his clients don’t pay.’
‘He’d better not try to mess with me,’ he said, with a burst of bravado which surprised both of them. ‘I’m a High Court judge. There are security arrangements in place for people like me. Cleary doesn’t know who he’s dealing with. He’s out of his depth.’
‘Don’t underestimate him, Conrad,’ she replied. ‘He knows some serious people.’
‘I know some serious people,’ he said.
She was on the verge of replying, but she checked herself.
‘I will deal with it,’ he said. ‘I will deal with Cleary.’
‘Oh? How will you do that? He’s not the kind of man who waits for people to make arrangements, Conrad. He’s going to come calling for his money today or tomorrow, or if not tomorrow, very soon, and believe me, there are no security arrangements that can protect you from him.’
‘We’ll see about that. It’s going to be difficult for him to break my door down if he doesn’t know where I live, and I’m very careful not to give out that information. He will have to find me first.’
She took a deep breath.
‘I’m afraid that won’t take him long,’ she replied.
‘What…?’
‘Look, I’m sorry, but he came round to my flat last night, late, after I got home from the Clermont. He said there were rumours that you weren’t going to have the money. I said I didn’t know, I hadn’t seen you; but he didn’t believe me. And he was right, wasn’t he? Aspinall told me he thought you weren’t good for your debts any more, and if he told me, he’s told everybody; the word is out on the street. Danny wanted to know your address. I tried to convince him that I didn’t know, but he didn’t believe me about that either, and he had a hunting knife with him… I’m really sorry, Conrad.’
‘You gave him this address?’
‘Not the number of the flat. I didn’t know the number before tonight. I told him what I knew – which was that you lived in the Barbican. That was all. But that’s more than enough information for Cleary, with the contacts he has.’
Conrad paced around the living room for some time. She never took her eyes off him.
‘You told him where I lived?’
‘Yes. It was that or get my face carved up. I’m sorry, Conrad, but that’s the way it was.’
‘How do you come to know someone like Cleary anyway?’ he asked, after a silence. ‘When you introduced him to me, you told me nothing about him, except that he was a friend.’
‘You didn’t ask any questions,’ she pointed out. ‘The man was telling you he represented a syndicate that made loans, and you didn’t ask him a single question. What did you think was going on?’
‘I needed the money,’ he replied weakly, ‘to stop you beating me up all the time.’
She shook her head.
‘For a judge, Conrad, you are a very naïve man. Were you really just thinking about sex games like some frustrated 16-year-old? Didn’t you even ask yourself why I would know a man like Cleary? How do you think I know him?’
He shrugged.
‘You seem to move in some exotic circles. I know there are people with criminal connections who like to spend their money in Mayfair. I assumed –’
‘I buy from him,’ she interrupted. ‘He’s my dealer, for God’s sake.’
His jaw dropped.
‘Your dealer? But I’ve never seen you –’
‘Snort a line? In front of you?’ She laughed. ‘Conrad, give me some credit, please.’
‘But…’
‘Look, you want to know the truth? OK. I’ll tell you the truth. I do cocaine, and Danny supplies me. I know who he is and what he does. I’ve always known. Shall I tell you how I know? Because I’ve been there. I’ve been where you are. I’ve been desperate for cocaine when I had no money to pay for what I’d already had. I know what it is to have Danny Ice threaten me, to lie in bed at night with the door locked, wondering whether he and his friends are outside waiting to break it down.’
She closed her eyes briefly and shook her head.
‘So one night, I made a deal with him – because I had to; I had no choice.’
‘A deal?’
‘Yes. One night – after I’d let him into my flat before he could break the door down, as he was holding his hunting knife to my face, and explaining to me in great detail what was going to happen if I didn’t have his money in 24 hours – I made a deal with him.’
‘What kind of deal?’
‘The only kind I could make. I offered him the only thing I had to offer to a man like Cleary.’
‘Which would be what, exactly?’
‘I know men, Conrad – rich men, men with money to spend and expensive habits to spend it on. Some spend it on cocaine, and some spend it on chemin de fer, but they all have one thing in common. They all want to take me to bed, because I give them something they don’t get from their wives – excitement, adventure, real no-holds-barred sex. They all like their special treat, Conrad, and they all like to be punished severely if they let me down in my quest for excitement. So they spend their money with me, and at some point, they need a bridging loan; and as it happens, I know exactly where they can go to get it.’
He put his glass down on the side table by the sofa.
‘You set Cleary up with clients?’
‘I make introductions; and in return, my supply is secure, and I don’t get my face carved up.’
He stood slowly.
‘So I wasn’t the only man you were seeing?’
She did not reply.
‘And that was all I was to you? Another client for Daniel Cleary?’
She smiled.
‘No. Actually, that’s not all you were. I like you.’
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes, really. Unlike most of the men I know, I can have an intelligent conversation with you. You are an interesting man to have dinner with. That’s more than I can say for most of them. Most gamblers are very boring people, Conrad. Haven’t you noticed? You’re different.’
‘That didn’t stop you setting me up.’
‘I didn’t set you up, Conrad. You did that all on your own. You’re not a child. You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into, you chose to get into it, and now you have to deal with it.’
He nodded vigorously. His anger was rising.
‘You set me up. I’m just another of the men you sent Cleary’s way. Well, you had me fooled, Greta. I have to hand it to you. I thought there was something real between us.’
His tone alarmed her. It was intense, menacing, and his face had turned a bright red. But how was any of this her fault? He was the one who had borrowed £20,000 from a loan shark.
‘There was… there is…’
‘Instead of which, you set me up with Cleary, and when it came time for me to pay up, you told him where to find me.’
She felt her anger rising to meet his.
‘Don’t put this on me, Conrad,’ she replied defiantly. ‘You’re the one who screwed up. How much did you win tonight? Twenty? You had enough to pay Cleary off, didn’t you? You had it in the palm of your hand. Why didn’t you walk away?’
‘Why didn’t I…?’
Why hadn’t he…? The mist began to descend again.
‘You could have had everything you needed. All you had to do was get up like a man, pass the bank to Dominick Elwes, and you were home free.’
‘With you sitting there?’
She laughed scornfully.
‘Oh, so that’s my fault too? It’s my fault that you couldn’t walk away? What did you think I was going to do? Take a ping-pong bat to you right there in front of everyone in the Blue Room? Grow up, Conrad. You’re pathetic.’
Even with the mist in his eyes, Conrad had some insight, some awareness of what he was doing. This is what it must have been like for Henry Lang, he thought: knowing that he was about to do something terrible, something beyond recall; knowing also that there was in a sense a choice about it, that in a different universe it would have been possible to step back, to take time to reflect; but knowing also that the choice was not humanly possible in the face of the tide of anger rushing to the surface and engulfing him. It was certain that he would act; just as it was certain, as soon as he had struck the blow and she had instantly crashed to the floor, that she was dead. The bust of Mozart he used to kill her had stood on the coffee table, within easy reach. It was an unusual piece, made of cast iron, which he and Deborah had found in some back-street antique shop during a visit to Vienna, years ago. It was heavy, and the single blow was always going to be enough. He could tell that from the sound it made when it struck her skull, and from the expression on her face when she fell.