Bad Music 11
I got you under my skin, where the rain can't get in.
Minto was looking at a photograph on a bookshelf and Chess was sitting on the chair watching Minto when Zlata returned with a mug of coffee, which she offered to him; it smelled delicious and he accepted it with pleasure. If DI Khatter had been there, he would have said no, but he was less abrasive, a little easier to give and take, he felt, and accepting a coffee was a way to open conversational space. Zlata’s own mug was on the table by the chair and she sat down next to Chess, lifting him onto her lap and sitting cross-legged.
The photograph showed two sky-divers, free falling, dressed in HVA suits, both with their thumbs up at the camera. ‘Is one of those Dominic?’
‘No. I think they’re his friends.’
‘But this is him?’ He pointed to a picture in a box frame showing a teenager in military uniform, holding a saxophone. Also inside the box was a brass cap badge.
‘Yes. He joined the army as a bandsman.’
‘He looks so young,’ Minto said, ‘But I don’t recognise the uniform. I’m former military. Royal Lancers: “Death or Glory.”’ He grinned, looking both proud and a little embarrassed at such a motto.
‘Dominic was in the Belgian Army. He joined when he was sixteen, or seventeen, I think.’
‘He’s Belgian?’
‘No. England was in the EU and he was living in the Belgium, so he decided to join the army.’
‘As you do,’ Minto said. ‘Mind if I sit down?’
‘Not all all.’
As he sat down on the battered Chesterfield, Zlata turned her attention to Chess, stroking the thick fur around his muzzle. Automatically, he rolled onto his side to get his tummy tickled, and she did exactly that. Minto tried to bring the topic back to the quarry. ‘Has he told you about the situation with his son?’
‘Angus. Dominic said he was in trouble.’
‘Do you know Angus?’
‘Of course.’
‘You and Dominic are a couple?’
‘Nothing official,’ she said. Chess was almost purring with pleasure as she raked his neck with her finders. She was slightly distracted and Minto wanted her attention.
‘What do you do?’ He asked.
‘Do? I’m cabin crew with British Airways.’
‘But you’re not British.’
‘No.’ She said, adding, ‘Dominic and Angus are not close.’
‘Oh?’
‘When his mother died, Angus reacted badly.’
‘Oh.’
‘Angus was emptied of something.’
‘Dominic told you this?’
She shook her head. ‘I can see it.’
‘When was that?’
‘Before my time, maybe eight years ago.’
‘They’re not close, you said.’
‘Angus comes here whenever he runs out of something.’
‘Something?’
‘Money, luck, friends. When he runs out, he comes here.’
‘How does Dominic feel about the situation?’
She shrugged, played with Chess’ velvety ears.
Minto said, ‘You being here, alone. I think it could be quite dangerous. Dominic might not want to get involved, but there are some bad people looking for Angus and this is the only address they have.’
‘I have two brothers, detective Minto, and they are at the war right now, fighting Ruzzian orcs.’ She spat these last two words. ‘Every day they face death. My home town is destroyed. It can never be rebuilt.’ There was a long moment of silence before the spoke again, her voice softer now, ‘Our home and the homes of everyone we ever knew are gone. If the Orcs catch a woman they rape her and rape her, then they shoot her in the head. If they catch a man, they do something they call twenty-one cherries. Do you know what that is?’
‘No.’
She shuddered. ‘But you know the worst thing?’
‘No.’
Her eyes were open but she was focused on some memory. She stayed zoned out for a long minute and Minto thought she’d simply stopped talking, then she returned to the conversation, and said, ‘The worst thing, I used to have three brothers.’ There was an even longer moment as he digested that. She shook her head. ‘There is no real danger here. There are some evil men, yes, and you police are weak, so they commit crimes, and you can do nothing.’ She caught her breath. ‘But not real danger. No artillery. No killer drones. No glide bombs. No orcs. And Dominic, he will protect me. He is not weak.’
‘How do you know Mr. Kerr?’
The unspoken question, out in the open now. What was a beautiful Ukrainian flight attendant doing with a man a decade her senior who lived in such a backwater? ‘I’m tall,’ she said, ‘And not difficult to look at.’ She said this like she was describing a family car, or a new dress. ‘When I travel, at work, I meet men: Germans, Arabs, Orcs. They are all handsome, and rich, and they are all very shiny.’ She said this last word like it was some sort of low-grade illness. ‘They all want the same transaction.’
‘Transaction?’
‘You are a gay man, handsome, well dressed, you know what I mean.’
This took him by surprise, but he understood her meaning.
‘They do this,’ and with her palm she mimed a face coming too close to hers, ‘They want to possess me, like they would buy a suit, they would wear me once or twice, then hang me in their wardrobe until they need use of me again. But Dominic, he sits beside me; he wants to sees what I see.’
Minto found himself engaged by Zlata’s gently earnest tone. He felt sure she wouldn’t lie to him. ‘What does he say about why he likes you, beyond the obvious?’
‘He said I got under his skin. Where rain can’t get in.’
Minto frowned.
‘It’s a line from a song. I think it means I got past his defences.’
‘He has defences? He seems very calm and mellow.’
‘Exactly,’ she said. ‘That’s his wall, his castle wall.’
‘Ah, right. Have you known him long?’
‘Long enough to want to be with him longer.’
‘But there are more walls,’ Minto said.
She nodded. ‘I’m at the doors of the Keep, still laying siege.’
Minto looked around. The living room was large, the house was larger than anything he’d ever lived in, it was well-presented, and though nothing looked particularly new, none of it looked cheap. He noticed an old record player tucked into a cubby hole by the fireplace. ‘He has a nice house,’ he said.
‘It’s a man’s house.’
‘Not enough soft furnishings,’ Minto said, and she gave a tiny smile.
‘I’m sure you could change that.’ When she said nothing, he said, ‘This doesn’t feel like a police interview.’
‘Is it an interview?’ she asked.
‘Everyone I speak to, it’s an interview.’
‘That must be lonely.’
‘I don’t often get to have conversations like this.’
‘With a woman.’
‘A woman who’s not criminal, or my boss.’
Chess stood, stretched, and jumped down from the chair, walked over to Minto. He stroked the dog’s head.
‘Dominic is attractive to you?’ she asked.
‘I strongly suspect I’m not his type. He is to you?’
‘Have you seen his eyes?’ she said, the smile in her voice softening her expression, and Minto grinned, welcoming the lessening of tension in the conversation. ‘Seriously, though, he is available to me. He’s not just there, he’s there. You know what I mean?’
‘I’ve never experienced that myself,’ Minto said. ‘Gay relationships tend to be more about quantity than quality.
‘We should go for a drink sometime,’ she said. ‘We can discuss men. You can tell me some gay secrets about how to please a man.’
‘Please a man? Beyond the obvious, I aint got a clue.’
She giggled. ‘You spoke in your real accent there.’
‘Lewisham, by way of Peckham Rye.’
‘South London.’
‘Very South London.’ He pronounced it Sarf Lahndn, and she smiled again. He brought himself back to the moment, thinking that the conversation had veered off-topic again, she was very easy to chat to, and he guessed it was part of her skillset, along with her bone structure and being built like a model. He determined to bring the conversation back to Angus Kerr; a current target of the NCA North-East division. ‘When was the last time you saw Angus?’ pushing the smile off his face.
‘About fifteen minutes ago,’ she said mildly.
Minto nearly sputtered his coffee. ‘He was here? Fifteen minutes ago?’
‘You just missed him.’ Zlata’s voice was amused, she picked up her coffee and took a sip. Frowned. ‘All this talking, my coffee is cold.’
Minto put down his own cup and stood. ‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘I need to make a call.’ As he walked to the door, he turned and said, ‘Stay there. I’ll be right back.’
‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Zlata said, still amused. Chess walked back over to her and she stroked his muzzle again. ‘You’re going grey, little man,’ she said quietly, and with real affection.
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