Thanks once again for the reviews - just a note on the last chapter, Alex was seeing visions of her daughter Molly in 2008 if you're not familiar with the A2A story...of course Alex has now forgotten her.
Chapter 22
Dempsey and Harry sat on the sofa in her living room staring indecisively at the cardboard box on the coffee table.
"You wanna have a listen?" asked Dempsey, his eyes still fixed on the tapes.
"Herhum." Harry shook her head "I'd rather not know...not that we got up to anything." She quickly added.
Dempsey cocked his head to one side and smirked "You sure about babe?"
"Eh?" replied Harry innocently.
He turned to look at her fully, a knowing smile lit up his face "You sure nuthin happened? Y'see I was so out of it I thought I dreamt it...but I didin't did I?" His eyes sparkled teasingly as Harry squirmed slightly with discomfort on the sofa.
"I thought you wouldn't remember." Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as the memory of that drunken night in Spain replayed in her mind.
"How could I forget you kissing me? You had your arms around me, your fingers in my hair...and you kissed me." He smirked again. For a long time afterwards he had truly thought he'd dreamt it, that Harry was kissing him in his alcoholic haze, but no, Harry had snuggled up to him on the bed while he was drunk and had given into the urge to kiss him. "You took advantage of me while I was drunk."
"I, I was just trying to comfort you!" she blustered her cheeks becoming more red. "You needed consoling."
"It sure did the trick; you can console me like that anytime. Pitty I crashed out or who knows what would have happened in the morning?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively.
Harry sniggered "Was it that obvious?"
"Not at the time...it's only just occurred to me." He admitted. Thinking back to that night it had become obvious to Dempsey that if he hadn't succumbed to the infection by the morning, he and Harry would have ended up getting it on...he was convinced.
Harry became downcast and said quietly "It broke my heart to see you in that state, thought I had lost you. At that point I would have done anything to get old Dempsey back."
He flashed her one of his grins "Shame, damn shame I was in la la land, I sure would've liked to have seen you do anything."
"Anyway!" Harry feeling hot under the cover quickly changed the subject " No point thinking about the then, need to think about the now...what are we going to do with this lot?" she gestured towards the box "If we take them into Spikings there are going to be questions on how we got them."
"Yeah, no good dumping them either, Lyons is going to be wondering where they've gone."
Pipa bounced into the living room fully dressed after her shower and towel drying her hair "Ah! That's better I feel clean again." She declared " I was starting to feel sordid." Pipa beamed with obvious glee.
Both Dempsey and Harry looked perplexed at Pipa's behaviour, she had seemed to have lost five years off her features and looked a lot less like a distraught mum...more like a young woman with a youthful energy and enthusiasm.
Pipa laughed at their expressions "Don't ask me how I got the tapes...I'm sure you don't want to know the details."
"How did you get them?" said Dempsey and Harry suspiciously together.
"Let's just say I used my womanly charms." She purred very pleased with herself.
"Oh lord, tell me you didn't?" gasped Harry, her mouth falling open in shock "Not with Lyons!"
"Hehehehe." Pipa chuckled cheekily.
"Pipa!" exclaimed Harry.
"Yes! And I very nearly enjoyed every minute...although he does go at it with all the grace of a rutting hippo."
"Jeeezus." groaned Dempsey slapping his hand on his forehead "I don't wanna know."
Pipa frowned confused at their reactions "I thought you'd be pleased I got the tapes?"
"The tapes yes! But you didn't have to go and jump into bed with him...Robert is going to kill you." Shot Harry in disgust
"Most probably, but he will kill Lyons first...I've just put a big spanner in the works.
Dempsey added "Y'know lady, there are ways of getting what you want without sleeping around."
"I know James, but this is the quickest way of doing it...sticking your hand down a man's pants and..."
"Yes Pipa we get the picture!" yelped Harry
"You two are running out of time." She jabbed a finger at the pair "And I want Matthew back...desperate needs require desperate measures."
"You sure sound desperate." Said Dempsey with an air of contempt "You don't think Robert is gonna start yelling hooker?"
"I don't care." The words came out shrill "He's called me far worse, besides I don't think he gives a toss what I do anymore; he's far more wrapped up in what Harry's doing." Her eyes looked directly at Harry "He never loved me you know, he's always loved you. Have you any idea how that feels to know you are never good enough?"
Harry looked away uncomfortably as Pipa carried on "No you wouldn't would you? Because every man worships the ground you walk on."
"That's not true!" countered Harry "may I remind you my husband left me for you!" Harry pointed at her accusingly "He hurt me...YOU hurt me, my so called best friend...it is YOU who has no idea."
"Hey girls." Dempsey stood up and stepped in between them holding them at a virtual arms length. "It's late, I think we all need to sleep on this and cool down. This ain't helping anybody. There is a little boy who is scared and confused right now and we have to find a way of sorting this all out...for him."
Both Harry and Pipa muttered apologies, they were in danger of losing sight of what was important.
Pipa said "I will take those tapes to your boss in the morning and that will be an end to that, at least that will go some way to sorting this mess out."
"Thank you." managed Harry with a forced smile.
"Don't mention it, it was the least I could do."
"DORA! OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR, YOU STUPID COW!" Robert bellowed up at the small terraced house window where Dora, his secretary lived. The road was a small tree-lined suburban street with rows of Edwardian terraces either side.
"DORA!" Robert's voice echoed around the walls.
"Hey mate!" a neighbour shouted across the street from another window "Would you shut the hell up, some of us are trying to sleep."
"AHHHH, SHURRUP YESSELF." Robert turned and shook a defiant fist at the man as one by one lights flicked on in neighbouring houses and several dogs started to bark.
"I WANT MY SON, YOU, YOU HAG"
The sash window to Dora's bedroom was violently yanked open and she appeared in her nightdress with her hair in curlers "Mr Makepeace, what on earth do you think you are doing?" she called dawn to him stood pathetically in the middle of the road swaying drunkenly.
"I want my son." He demanded still at full volume.
"Have you any idea what time it is?" she hissed "The boy is asleep...well he was. You are waking up the entire neighbourhood."
"Ahhhh pisht!" he waved an inebriated arm at her "I wanna take him home,..he belongs with me."
"Mr Makepeace, you are drunk! You are in no fit state to take charge of the boy. I suggest he stays with me and you go home and sleep it off." She didn't drink herself being a strict teetotaller and found drunken behaviour to be utterly repellent, especially in man of Robert's standing and class.
"OOOWWWWOOOOLLLAH!" He wailed incoherently "You're all conspiring against me. You're in it too." He waggled a long finger at her.
"I am doing nothing of the sort!" snapped Dora "I am looking after the boy, nothing more."
"BITCH!" he spat with venom.
Dora was taken aback; she wasn't used to being spoken to like this. She had worked for Robert Makepeace for ten years and never had he sworn at her, further more it was totally out of character for him to be this legless. Dora would go as far as to say paralytic. "Robert if you refuse to go home I will have no choice but to phone the police." She meant what she said.
"Hahahaha, phone the policshh, good one Dora. What will they do? Send round my wife and her gorilla Yank boyfriend to arreshht me? Even better send Hunt the Manch to do me over again? Eh?"
"Go home!" Dora barked and forcefully rammed shut the window leaving Robert stood on his own in the street.
"Ahh! Stupid dragon..." he muttered giving her the one fingered salute and sloped off to his car.
It took him four attempts to get the key in the ignition, a small part of his brain knew he shouldn't be driving, but it was quickly overcome by the need to go home. Without looking he pulled away from the curb and in a haphazard fashion drove in the direction of his house. Thankfully the journey was short as he hit curbs, swerved all over the road (both sides), jumped a red night and narrowly missed a street lamp. Luckily at that time in the morning there was hardly any potential victims around.
He bounced up the pavement onto his driveway and demolished the rubbish bins before parking the car into the garage door with a loud clatter...of which he was completely oblivious. He staggered to his front door and tripped into the hallway. He cursed loudly as he righted himself and gave the front door a hefty slam. On entering the kitchen he grabbed a fresh bottle of scotch off the welsh dresser and plonked himself down at the kitchen table. He poured himself a large measure of whisky into an already used glass then he fished a small white packet out of his pocket "Oh yes, you can't beat whisky and coke." He grinned wolfishly as he un-wrapped the small paper envelope revealing the white powder.
With his credit card he divided the cocaine into neat little lines and with a rolled up twenty pound note, he snorted up the powder and grimaced. With one swift action he knocked back the measure of whisky and his fix was complete 'Whisky and Coke'.
Robert wasn't the only one burning the midnight oil. In his pokey Wembley hotel room Dan was testing out the gun Padraig, the Irishman, had sourced for him. He meticulously took it apart and oiled every last millimetre of it familiarising himself with the weapon (he was more used to using a Magnum, the standard issue to American policemen of the NYPD).
His day had been equally busy meeting contacts and getting to know London. Padraig had introduced him to the members of Liam Daly's gang whom he was to work with for the foreseeable future. He found the gang members a great deal different from the New York hoods he was more used to dealing with. He found them non-communicative, but they seemed to know their jobs. Now he was waiting to make the call to Coltrane to receive his next instructions. He checked his watch 2.15 am.
He quietly tiptoed out his room and down the stairs to the reception area of the hotel all the while keeping his ears trained for the slightest sound - he didn't want to wake the landlord up. All the hotel lights were out apart from the regulation safety lights and the dim standby rays from the bar area. All was quiet apart from the gentle thrum of the ice machine. He made his way over to the bar phone and dialled.
Coltrane answered "Hello Dan, hows England?"
"Grey, I ain't seen the sun since I got here." He spoke in hushed tones into the mouthpiece.
"Have you found him?"
"Yeah, he's working for the Limeys alright... as a detective."
Coltrane chuckled "Sweet, that's real sweet."
"What do ya want me to do boss? Lean on him?"
"Nah, you sit tight till I tell you otherwise...slowly does it, catch ya monkey."
Coltrane rang off and the line went dead. Dan huffed with frustration; all he wanted to do was get on with it so he could go home.
He was about to head back up the stairs when he paused and glanced around the bar. It was still silent and not a soul was around. He said to himself 'what the hell, don't mind if I do.' He reached behind the bar to grab a bottle of beer. The beer fizzed up as he clicked off the cap with the bar mounted bottle opener, he took a slurp then helped himself to another bottle before creeping up the stairs to bed.
Coltrane lit a cigarette and dialled another number on his phone "Coltrane here, get me the numbers of all the London police departments who have plain clothes detectives assigned to them...yes all of them." He replaced the receiver back on its cradle and blew out a contemplative stream of smoke.
Alex woke with a start. She glanced at the bedside clock...2.25am. She couldn't quite fathom out what had woken her, but she couldn't shake off the feeling of uneasiness which ran through her body. She gave Gene a sideways look; he was still blissfully asleep, snoring gently next to her. As she became fully awake she felt the burning sensation of heartburn in her chest 'Aw...not again." She whined rubbing the area. It was no good she had to get up. She padded down to the kitchen in search of her indigestion tablets, but her mind was whirring trying to work out what it was she had been dreaming about.
She desperately tried to recall the images which had woken her. She remembered her eleven year old self walking hand in hand through a lobby of a posh hotel with her guardian Evan. The newspaper stand...yes the newspaper stand by the reception desk had caught her eye. The headline read 'Plain Clothes Detective Killed In Gangland feud." Why had she dreamt about that? Then there was the glamorous American woman who sashayed down the staircase like a film-star. The young Alexandra Drake had stared wide-eyed at the woman transfixed by her stunning looks and opulent grace.
Alex flopped down on the sofa...there was something else, something that had disturbed her more than anything else, she wracked her brain. What was it?... Oh yes..."Leroy" she breathed.
So, there we have it, D&M's first kiss was in Spain...not in the potting shed and Harry tried to keep it to herself.
Please review, I know I have slowed down writing this story, but I do rely on your reviews to keep me writing it!
QQxx