Close by Martina Cole Read Free Book Online Page B

was the nearest person to have earned that title. But Pat had a lot of acquaintances and he also had the knack of making people feel that they had his full attention, even though he rarely listened to anything unless it benefited him or his family.
    He knew it was this aloofness that was the key to his success and he found that now he actually cultivated it. Used it to his advantage.
    'Soon, OK? Give me a few days to think about it.'
    Dicky knew he was in and he stronged it as Pat had known he would from the outset. He waited patiently for him to get to the crux of his conversation.
    'Come and meet this tame filth I've found, eh, mouthy little ponce he is, always shooting his mouth off and chancing his arm. Now we own him, well you do actually, it's your club he fucked up in. Though he don't realise that yet, of course, he thought Lenny Donnelly owned it. He is a bit of a lad, typical Old Bill, more mouth than cows got cunt, and a personality like a pair of nylon socks. However, he is also on his way to what he perceives as greatness, mainly through the pursuit of promotion in Old Billery. In short, Pat, he is a cunt with an earhole in the right places, and a knob that rises on a regular basis. Know what I mean?'
    Pat nodded. Poor Dicky was telling him nothing he did not already know. He had been one step ahead of everyone all his life, had had to be, but as always he kept his own counsel. People only know what you tell them. And it was true. People gave out their whole life stories to anyone and everyone without a second's thought. Stand at a bus stop, sit in a strange pub, get banged up, and someone would always give you their life story. It was as if they were trying to prove they existed.
    Dicky smiled nervously, the silence as always making him slightly uneasy, and Pat refilled their glasses without uttering a word.
    'We'll keep our traps shut as always, Pat, keep our business to ourselves, but this way, we can also get a bit of insurance for the future.'
    Pat grinned.
    The point had been taken but the subject was now closed.
     
     
    Detective Inspector Harry Lomond was drunk. Really drunk, and his stomach was just about to vacate its contents.
    He was in a hostess club in Soho, he was without his trousers, and he was also convinced that the walls were breathing. LSD would do that to a body. Dilys Crawford, known as Sabina while at work, was sitting beside him, bored out of her brains.
    An unnatural redhead, she had small breasts, large thighs and a mouth that was legendary. She had three kids, a husband doing a ten-stretch in Dartmoor and more varicose veins than the Michelin man. Still, men sought her out, and stone-cold sober she sorted them out quickly and efficiently. She would never have full sex with a punter, a nosh. A bit of tit and a laugh was about as far as she would go with them. Most men were happy with that, and as for her, she would slip under the table and do it, so even paying for a hotel room was not part of the equation.
    Tonight though, she was not even bothering to pour the champagne on the floor, a ruse many hostesses used so they didn't get drunk and ripped off. This ponce was so far gone, fucking Donald Campbell would have trouble keeping up with him.
    A stripper came on the stage and she sighed in relief. Candy did an act with a snake and a trilby hat that was so outrageous it left all the hostesses free to relax, have a fag and work out their next moves.
    Her next move was to pass this filth on to Dicky, the sooner the better as far as she was concerned. When she saw Pat walk in with the Williams brothers, she sighed with relief. She would suck off a fucking tramp if he had the money, but she balked at touching Old Bill. They were about as much use as a handbrake on the proverbial canoe. She had done her bit for England, she just wanted her poke and a cab home. Harry was still smiling drunkenly when she dumped him in the basement of the club.
     
     
    Lil settled the child once more, and