Dangerous Kiss

  The newscaster, a dour-faced man wearing too much makeup and a bad rug, began relating the story. ‘Sometime this afternoon there was an invasion of Price Washington’s home in the Hancock Park area of the Wilshire district. Mr Washington was in court at the time, where his son is accused of being involved in a hold-up and the subsequent shooting of TV star Mary Lou Berkeley. An Hispanic maid – alone in the house – was raped and tied up while the house was robbed of jewellery, clothes, and cash. The estimated loss could be in the millions. Police are looking for a white male, early twenties . . .’

  ‘Price Washington,’ Pandora purred, stroking her own thigh. ‘That dude’s about as sexy as they get.’

  ‘I had an NBA player once,’ her friend confided. ‘All he wanted was a hand job in the alley. He must’ve liked it, ’cause he came back three nights in a row. Guess I was doin’ somethin’ right.’

  Both girls cackled.

  Mila got up and returned to her cell where Maybelline was lying on her bunk sucking her hair and staring into space.

  ‘It’s all over the news,’ Mila announced excitedly.

  ‘What is?’ Maybelline said.

  ‘The goddamn robbery. I didn’t think Price Washington was that important.’

  ‘He’s a big star,’ Maybelline said.

  ‘You didn’t tell me your brother was gonna rape the maid,’ Mila said accusingly.

  ‘Oh, that’s Duke,’ Maybelline said, not at all surprised. ‘He has these little . . . habits. Can’t break him of them.’

  ‘Rape is a little habit?’ Mila said, raising her eyebrows. ‘He shouldn’t’ve done that. Now I feel responsible.’

  ‘Listen to you,’ Maybelline snorted, turning nasty. ‘You shot some bitch in a car, but you can’t stomach my brother raping the stupid maid. What the fuck does it matter to you?’

  ‘I hope he found my gun,’ Mila muttered, backing down, because she sensed it was not pretty when Maybelline got pissed.

  ‘If it was where you said it was, he’ll have it.’

  ‘How about Lennie Golden? Has he done it yet?’

  ‘Knowing my brother, he’s done enough for one day. He’ll take care of it tomorrow.’

  ‘Yeah, but if Lennie’s called as a witness . . .’

  ‘They won’t call him for another few days. There’s plenty of time.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘’Cause the courts drag things out for ever. Don’t worry, it’ll be taken care of. Duke’s a pro.’

  Mila was steaming. She wasn’t so sure about Duke. The fact that he’d stopped and taken the time to rape the maid infuriated her. What if Irena had been in the house? Would he have raped her too?

  Not that she cared about her mother, because Irena sure as hell didn’t give a shit about her. Still . . . she hadn’t reckoned on her being physically harmed.

  Maybe she should get the gun to her lawyer.

  Yes, she decided, she’d tell him about it in the morning, then she’d have Maybelline instruct Duke to deliver it.

  Right now her trust level was sinking fast. Duke was obviously a maniac, and Maybelline didn’t seem to care.

  They’d made a deal. And if Maybelline and her crazy brother didn’t keep their side of it, they’d both be way sorry.

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Lucky caught the story on the ten o’clock news. She was shocked. She immediately called Venus, knowing that Venus was friendly with Price Washington.

  ‘What in hell’s going on? Has this got anything to do with the case?’

  ‘How do I know?’ Venus replied. ‘I haven’t spoken to Price in weeks.’

  ‘Isn’t it kind of weird?’ Lucky said. ‘His house getting broken into?’

  ‘Not really. Somebody knew he was in court and took advantage of the situation.’

  ‘There’s something not quite right about it,’ Lucky said. ‘Why don’t you phone him, see what he has to say?’

  ‘I’m not calling him to find out,’ Venus objected. ‘That’s like ghoulish.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Lucky insisted.

  ‘Okay, maybe later.’

  Lucky reached for a cigarette. ‘How did everything go after I left?’ she asked.

  ‘Great. Seven more actors came in to read. One of them was pretty damn hot.’

  ‘Did Alex like him?’

  ‘Nooo.’

  ‘He’s hard to please.’

  ‘Right. Hard to please and very particular.’

  ‘Which is what makes him such a great director.’

  ‘And a huge pain in the ass at times,’ Venus said with a dry laugh. ‘Although, don’t get me wrong, I love working with him. Alex inspires me. He has soul.’

  Lucky inhaled deeply, thinking that yes, he did, which was why she was so attracted to him – as a friend, nothing more. ‘Now,’ she said, ‘perhaps you’d like to tell me about ganging up on me today? What was that about?’

  ‘It’s because Alex and I see what’s going on,’ Venus explained. ‘You’re too close to it.’ She took a deep breath. ‘The deal is this. Alex wants to be with you – no surprise, you’ve known that for the last five years. But he understands that if he’s with you, you cannot be thinking about Lennie. So until Lennie’s history – which we both know he’s not – Alex realizes he has no chance.’

  ‘Is that why you’re both trying to force me back with Lennie? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘What does?’ A beat. ‘So . . . what d’you think?’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘About Lennie, of course,’ Venus said, exasperated. ‘You’ve got to call him, go out, talk things over.’

  ‘I . . . I don’t know any more,’ Lucky said unsurely. ‘I’ve always felt that the biggest betrayal of all was sleeping with somebody else when you’ve made the big commitment. I slept around as much as I wanted before I was married, but once you’re married that should be it. It’s like being on a diet and seeing this incredible chocolate cake, and you’re a chocolate freak, so all you want to do is have a bite of that cake. But you know that if you have one small slice, you’ll end up eating the whole thing. I know it sounds crazy, but to me that’s what fidelity is about.’

  ‘I can dig it,’ Venus said. ‘You and I both lived our lives like guys. We ran around doing whatever we wanted, and we married guys who’d done the same. Which makes for a real been-there-done-that situation, so nobody’s looking around to see what they missed ’cause nobody missed anything!’

  ‘Exactly,’ Lucky agreed. ‘So when that woman showed up at my door with Lennie’s child, how do you think I felt?’

  ‘I know I keep on repeating myself,’ Venus said, ‘but it’s not as if he ran off and had an affair. He was desperate – you’ve got to take that into consideration.’

  ‘Why?’ Lucky said stubbornly.

  ‘’Cause it’s only fair. And Alex agrees with me. What you need is closure.’

  ‘I guess you could be right.’ Lucky sighed. ‘Maybe I will call him.’

  ‘Best thing you can do,’ Venus said. ‘Dinner. The two of you. No outside interference. Make sure it’s on neutral ground.’

  ‘Good thinking.’

  ‘By the way,’ Venus added curiously, ‘what did Alex mean when he mentioned your one crazy night together?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Lucky said quickly.

  ‘You sound guilty,’ Venus said gleefully. ‘Did something happen between the two of you?’

  ‘If it did – and I’m not saying it did – then it would’ve happened while I thought Lennie was dead.’

  ‘Oh, you bad girl,’ Venus admonished, loving every moment. ‘You slept with Alex, didn’t you?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘Yes, you did!’

  ‘Okay, Venus, enough. I’ve got to go. Let’s talk tomorrow.’

  She hung up the phone. Something was bothering her. Price Washington’s house getting broken into and the maid getting raped. Could it possibly be connected to the case?

  She called Det
ective Johnson. ‘Any connection?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m studying the reports now,’ he said.

  ‘How about any leads on who did it?’

  ‘Not yet. However, a neighbour did see a man arriving at the house this morning. I’ll keep you informed.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said, finally getting off the phone and going into her children’s room, where she found little Gino and Maria in the middle of a fierce pillow fight. ‘And how’re my two little scamps?’ she asked, hugging them both.

  ‘Hi, Mommy,’ they chorused, out of breath and giggling.

  ‘Hello, you two naughty little rug-rats.’

  ‘Where’s Daddy?’ Maria demanded.

  ‘I keep on telling you, Daddy’s working.’

  ‘Wanna see him,’ little Gino chanted. ‘Wanna see him! Wanna see him! Wanna see him!’

  ‘You will. You’re going to Grand-daddy’s this weekend, and Daddy’ll be there, too.’

  ‘Supercool!’ Maria said, her favourite new word. ‘Can we all go swimming together?’

  ‘I’m not coming this weekend, sweetheart,’ she explained. ‘I’ve too much work to do here.’

  ‘Oh, Mommy, c’mon,’ Maria pleaded. ‘I like you and Daddy in the pool. You look so pretty together.’

  Lucky couldn’t help laughing. ‘People aren’t pretty together, darling. They’re nice together.’

  ‘No, Mommy, you and Daddy are pretty.’

  ‘Well, thank you. I’m glad you think that.’

  After reading them a bedtime story, she kissed them both, tucked them into bed, and went back to her bedroom, where she stared at the phone for a while.

  Maybe Venus was right. Closure. She needed closure.

  * * *

  ‘That was good,’ Lennie said, pushing his plate away.

  ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it,’ Claudia said, gazing at him with adoring eyes.

  He had a horrible feeling she had a crush on him. Of course he knew why. It was because he was there for her, and she’d obviously never had anyone care about her before. He’d been thinking that it was definitely time for her to get out and meet new people.

  ‘I think I’ve found a house,’ he said, standing up from the table.

  ‘A house for us, Lennie?’ she asked eagerly.

  ‘No, a house for you and Leonardo.’

  ‘Where will you be?’ she asked, disappointed.

  ‘I’ll stay here.’

  ‘Why can’t you live with us?’

  ‘Because, Claudia,’ he said patiently, ‘I’ve tried to explain this to you before. I have a wife whom I love very much, and she’s not very happy about you turning up here with a child. Now, I understand it’s not your fault, but I have to get my life back together. And it’s not helping matters that I’m living here with you.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lennie,’ she said, lowering her eyes. ‘I have tried to be no trouble. I could not stay in Italy. Leonardo is your son and he needed help.’

  ‘I know, Claudia, I know,’ he said, trying to be patient and nice and all the things he didn’t feel like being, ‘and we’re getting him help. I’ll speak to the doctors in a day or two, see what their tests have come up with.’

  ‘Thank you, Lennie.’

  ‘This is what I’ve decided,’ he said. ‘I’m moving you and Leonardo into the house I’ve found. Then maybe you should get a job. Your English is pretty good, you shouldn’t have any problems. You could be an interpreter, or work at the Italian Embassy.’

  ‘Whatever you say.’

  ‘I say you can have a good life here, Claudia, but you have to realize that it’s not going to be with me.’

  ‘I understand,’ she murmured, not understanding at all.

  ‘Now I gotta take a shower,’ he said, pleased that he’d told her the way it was going to be. ‘If the phone rings, pick up, it could be the realtor.’

  ‘Yes, Lennie.’

  He went into the bathroom and ran the shower. Tomorrow he would make a concentrated effort to talk to Lucky. This had gone on long enough. As each day passed, they were growing further and further apart, and he couldn’t take it any more.

  The moment he stepped into the shower, the phone rang.

  Claudia picked up. ‘Hello?’ she said.

  On the other end of the line Lucky hesitated for a moment. ‘Put Lennie on,’ she said at last.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Claudia purred, ‘Lennie is in the shower.’

  Lucky slammed the phone down.

  This was not going to work out.

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  One thing Brigette had tried to learn from Lucky was how to be strong. Obviously she hadn’t done such a good job, because if she had, she wouldn’t have got into such a devastating predicament.

  If only she’d taken Lucky’s advice and had the strength of character not to get involved with Carlo. After her previous dismal experiences with men, Lucky had warned her to take great care when entering a new relationship. She should’ve taken heed of Lucky’s philosophy – fight back or get trampled. It was a good one.

  But Carlo hadn’t given her a choice. She’d gone to London to track him down, all set on punishing him. And what had happened? He’d kidnapped her and forced her into becoming a heroin addict. Then, when she was totally addicted and depended on him for everything, he’d married her.

  She’d really had no choice in the matter because heroin took away the decision-making process. You got up in the morning, took your first shot, and then it was like, okay, here comes another great day – lie back and enjoy it . . . whatever.

  So, yes, her life had become a series of dream sequences. And Carlo made sure she always had what she wanted, never depriving her.

  And, in some sick way, because of her dependency on heroin, she’d grown totally dependent on him, putting up with his verbal abuse, black rages and sometime physical abuse.

  It was only now that she could see the picture clearly. Only now that she realized what he’d done to her, and what an unconscionable monster he was.

  Perhaps he’d done her a favour by abandoning her . . . leaving her in the middle of nowhere . . .

  He would be punished, for she’d lost his baby, his son. And now that she was no longer pregnant there was nothing to tie them together except a marriage certificate, and her lawyers would soon take care of that. She didn’t care how much she had to pay to get rid of him. It would be worth it.

  She was doing her best to regain her physical strength, and even though she was still weak with stomach cramps, aching bones and a permanent headache, she was determined to walk out of this place as soon as possible. She knew for sure that she had to get out before Carlo returned.

  Who knew what he would do? She would put nothing past him. He might even try to hook her up again. Then once more she’d be trapped. It would be an easy enough task for him to accomplish, because although she hadn’t had heroin in a week, it was an addiction she knew she’d probably have to spend the rest of her life fighting.

  When she was high, even Carlo being the biggest bastard in the world didn’t matter.

  Every morning she walked outside and sat by her baby’s grave. Her son. Being near him gave her a sense of peace. The poor little soul would have been born addicted, and she could not have taken the pain and suffering the baby would’ve had to go through.

  After a while she began exploring the big old house and the surrounding grounds, eventually discovering a barn in the back, where she found a rusty old bicycle with flat tyres. After more searching, she came across a pump. It was an exciting discovery, and although she was not mechanically minded, she set about getting the bike into working order.

  She had no idea where she was. Carlo had mentioned that they were in the middle of nowhere. But she was sure that if she took a supply of water and cans of food, and followed the road, eventually she’d reach another house or someone who could help her.

  She formed a plan in her mind. Two more days of guarding her strength, drinking plenty of nouris
hing cans of soup from the fast-dwindling supply in the kitchen, and building herself up.

  Then she was getting on the bike and leaving.

  * * *

  People were drawn towards Boogie. A Vietnam vet with a laid-back attitude, tall and lanky, he never presented a threat. Somehow, wherever he was, he always managed to fit in. So when he started hanging out with a group of old men in the village square near the Vitti palace, they accepted him as an American writer, studying other cultures, and allowed him to join in their daily game of boules, and sit around afterwards, drinking bitter black coffee and puffing on strong cigarettes.

  Boogie had his eye on one old man in particular, Lorenzo Tiglitali, the houseman from the Vitti family palace. Lorenzo was a gregarious character, short and stocky, with a shock of silver hair, tanned, wrinkled skin, and a wooden leg – a souvenir from the war. He was seventy-two and proud of it, boasting that he’d never had one sick day in forty years of working for the Vitti family.

  Lorenzo loved telling tales, and fortunately he spoke very good English. Boogie soon became his best listener.

  It was an easy job eliciting information from Lorenzo. He never stopped talking, carrying on about everything from the price of bread, to how tight his boss was with money.

  It didn’t take Boogie long to get on to the subject of Carlo.

  ‘That boy!’ Lorenzo spat in disgust. ‘He’s spoiled. No good. Even now he has the American wife he’s still no good.’

  ‘An American wife, huh?’ Boogie asked quietly. ‘Do they live at the palace?’

  ‘They did,’ Lorenzo said, chugging down a brandy, bought for him by Boogie. ‘Now he go to Sardinia with another woman. And the wife . . .’ The old man suddenly stopped talking, aware that he might be saying too much.

  ‘What about the wife?’ Boogie urged. ‘Where is she?’

  Lorenzo shrugged, draining his glass of Cognac.

  ‘Another?’ Boogie offered.

  ‘I shouldn’t . . .’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Just one more.’

  The ‘just one more’ loosened Lorenzo’s tongue. ‘His American wife is pregnant, you know. And very rich. Carlo has promised to get the family a few million dollars by the end of the year.’