I went down the side of the house and crossed a small patch of rough ground. The door of the so-called studio, an enormous metal-roofed lock-up that looked like a World War Two era Nissen hut, was unlocked, so I pulled it open and went inside. The entrance way was a dark corridor. All I could hear up ahead was the staccato click-click-whir coming from deep within the darkened room then a high pitched whine as if a flash gun was charging up again. I walked towards the big studio lights, passed metal shelves filled with car parts and tools set aside for DIY and gardening. There was a big, old-fashioned steel girder supporting the roof and the flash from Miller’s camera was rebounding off it. I turned into the large, open area of the studio where Mark ‘Windy’ Miller worked and, seeing me, a stark naked young girl squealed.
I got a quick flash of her pale body as she jumped down from the sofa Miller had her standing on. She grabbed a white towelling robe and clasped it tightly to her in an effort to avoid any more of her intimate bits being placed on show to a complete stranger.
‘Come on Kayleigh,’ he told her, like she was the worst kind of prude, ‘you’ve got to learn to be less body conscious than that.’ I was trying to take in the fact she was actually called Kayleigh. No prizes for guessing what band her dad was into back in the 80s. ‘This here is David Blake. He’s not just an old friend, he’s a professional photographer too. Aren’t you mate?’
‘Absolutely,’ I said.
‘So he’s seen it all before, hasn’t he?’ she hesitated, keeping the robe pressed tightly against her young body, but her eyebrows knitted together in a frown that told me she was unsure how she should be behaving. ‘Hasn’t he?’ he repeated. Mark tutted at her like she was being a silly girl then asked patiently, ‘what would Keeley Hazell do?’
She smiled then, blushed, giggled and finally dropped the robe, standing in front of me in all her Page-three-hopeful, naked glory. ‘That’s better,’ he told her and, all of a sudden, she seemed to be enjoying the exposure. She blew air out of the corner of her upturned bottom lip, disturbing a wisp of blonde hair over her forehead, put her hands on her hips and stood straight so there wasn’t an inch of her I couldn’t see, then she did a self-conscious little wiggle from side to side. ‘Good girl,’ he told her then turned to me, ‘I think Kayleigh here has got everything it takes to go all the way.’
‘Undoubtedly,’ I told them. She beamed at us both, the silly cow.
‘And he ought to know,’ said Miller and somehow we both managed to look serious. ‘Nearly done mate, why don’t you just take a seat for a minute.’
I waited till he shot another roll of film while young Kayleigh stood there and posed. She tried to look serious, then pouted like a naughty schoolgirl, then adopted what she presumably thought was a coquettish pose and all on Miller’s instructions. He asked her to raise an arm, cup a breast, roll her nipples between her fingers to make them hard then stick out her tongue at the camera and laugh like he was the funniest guy she had ever seen. He even got her to bend forwards over the arm of the sofa so her bum was up in the air and her face was practically buried in the cushions. That way she couldn’t see he was no longer looking at the camera, just pointing it at her bare arse. He shot pictures one-handed while winking at me, silently laughing and giving me the thumbs up.
‘Thanks love,’ he said when he was done, ‘you were brilliant. I tell you what, that Keeley Hazell will be shitting herself,’ she laughed as she pulled up her knickers and put on her jeans. When she’d gone, he said, ‘that last roll was just for you, you did realise.’
‘I guessed as much. Interesting hobby you’ve got there Mark.’
‘Hobby?’ he asked, ‘bit more than a hobby. It brings in the money, which is always much needed round here I can tell you. I can’t retire early on what Bobby pays me you know.’
‘Yeah? How much do you have to shell out to get a lass like that stark naked then? And what will you get for the photos?’
He laughed, ‘No mate, you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t pay them. They pay me.’
‘You’re joking?’
‘No, think about it. There are hundreds of young lasses all over Newcastle who’ve got big tits and they all think they’re going to be the next big glamour model but they don’t know how to go about it. Then they see my advert in their local paper; ‘professional modelling portfolios artistically created to your specification’, a snip at just £350.’
‘Three-fifty?’ I whistled.
‘I know,’ and he chuckled.
‘And has young Kayleigh got what it takes?’
‘In my considered professional opinion?’ I nodded. ‘Has she fuck. Got legs like a giraffe, she’s too top-heavy in the breast department, they’ll be sagging before she’s twenty and she has a smile like a frightened rabbit caught having a dump in the woods.’
‘Yet you told her she was gonna be a star. Shameless.’
‘Who am I to destroy a young girl’s dreams? That’ll come soon enough. At least this way she’ll have something to show her grandkids.’
‘A bunch of pictures with her arse in the air?’
‘Yeah,’ and he put on a dumb voice, ‘I used to be a mod-dull.’
‘Looking on the bright side, she gave you a cheap thrill at least.’
‘Oh yeah, definitely but she don’t mind,’ he laughed, ‘she did at first but I said I was gay.’
‘Unbelievable.’
‘I told her I’m immune to fanny. “Think of me like your family doctor,” I told her and she took her clothes off, easy as you like.’ He clicked his fingers to illustrate how quick she’d been to shed her knickers in pursuit of fame. ‘Ironic isn’t it. Some poor young bloke’ll blow a month’s wages tonight, buying her drinks so she’ll let him put his hand up her top. Look at me, I’m just an old git yet I saw the lot – and she’s paying me!’ and he laughed like it was the best joke ever, and maybe it was.
As soon as I told Miller why I was there, he stopped laughing, ‘I heard about it,’ he admitted as he handed me a mug of tea. We were sitting at a table in the studio. ‘Been worried. I know it sounds a bit lame but me and Geordie Cartwright go back a lot of years. He’s a good lad. We used to take our boys to play football on Sunday mornings. He’d be there in all weathers,’ he shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what the world had become. ‘So what have you heard?’
‘The same as you,’ I said, ‘Cartwright’s gone missing.’
‘With some of Bobby’s money,’ he added, so the word was already out. Shit.
‘Yeah,’ there was no point denying it.
‘Jesus,’ he said.
‘Won’t help him if he’s taken it,’ I assured him.
‘It’s got to be a misunderstanding,’ he said with conviction and I just looked at him. ‘I know but he isn’t like that is he, not Cartwright? He wouldn’t do it, wouldn’t have the nerve to cross Bobby.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ I assured him without pointing out that the alternative was probably worse for Cartwright, as it was more than likely he’d be dead already. At least if he had stolen Bobby’s money he had a chance of getting away with it; a very small chance but a chance nonetheless.
‘What have you heard about Geordie and this Russian?’
‘Come again?’
I shrugged, ‘I heard he’d done some business with a Russian, that’s all.’ I was stretching it a bit but I wanted to see how it would play, ‘wondered what you knew about it?’
‘Sorry mate,’ he said simply, ‘not heard that one,’
Miller was pretty helpful though and I didn’t leave empty-handed. He gave me a sizeable list of names to look up and places to check. Surely one of them would have a lead on Geordie. The drive out here had been worth it.
‘Good luck,’ he told me, ‘and I mean it. Geordie Cartwright’s a gent. I hope he’s alright.’
‘So do I Mark,’ I said, ‘so do I.’
I spent the rest of the day and most of the night getting round Miller’s names with Finney. It was the same wherever we went. Nobody had seen Cartwright. Nobody knew what he’d been planning. We were drawing a complete blank.
More in hope than expectation, we called in on Jerry Lemon. I thought he must have heard something. He went back as far as any of Bobby’s crew, had known the big man for years, Cartwright too. He was one of Bobby’s originals. Unfortunately he was also a complete tosser but I was hoping loyalty to Bobby might prompt him to help me. I was badly wrong.
Jerry operated out of a pool & snooker hall, imaginatively named ‘Lemons’. There was a big wooden sign over the front door which had two crossed snooker cues and two lemons painted on it, above his name. Clearly Jerry was a marketing genius.
‘What the fuck do you want?’ he said loud and aggressively and a lot of people in the room started to pay attention, which was exactly what the big mouth had intended. The great man was holding court. He was dressed in a style of bleached jeans that went out of fashion around 1985 and a T-shirt with no arms that showed off his bulging biceps and fading tatts. He went back to his shot, missing an easy pot into the middle pocket, which made me realise he was pissed.
‘A quiet word, if it’s alright with you.’
‘No, it’s not alright with me. Can’t you see I’m playing pool? I thought you were supposed to be the clever one Davey. If you want to say something to me, say it now, I’ve nothing to hide.’
The place was half full of the old villains and apprentice wannabes Jerry liked to have hanging round in case he could find a use for them. He was a regular Fagin and his tales of the old days always had them hanging on his every word, which he loved.
‘I never said you did Jerry. I wanted to speak to you about our mutual friend,’ I wasn’t going to mention Cartwright’s name out loud in here.
‘ “Our Mutual Friend”, that’s Dickens that is,’ he was very pleased with himself, ‘bet you didn’t think I knew that. Well, you’re not the only one round here who’s read a book. You mean Cartwright I suppose. How long has Bobby given you to find his money eh, until Monday wasn’t it?’
‘Jerry,’ I said his name as a warning.
‘Don’t you try and shut me up in my own place,’ he told me, straightening and pointing his cue at me, ‘you’ve got no chance. You don’t know what you’re doing, you never have done. If you did you wouldn’t be down here wasting my time, you’d be out looking for the real guilty party.’
‘I know you don’t like me much these days Jerry, but can we not put that to one side while we try to find Cartwright?’
‘Correction,’ he told me, ‘I have never liked you son. I don’t even know who you are.’
‘You’ve known me for years.’
‘What do I know? That your name is David Blake and you appeared out of the blue one day and next thing I know you’re part of the crew. You set yourself up fair with Bobby while we weren’t looking. You kissed his arse and all of a sudden you’d risen through the ranks while better men made their money the hard way, on the doors of Bobby’s clubs. Well, we don’t want any of that whiz kid stuff around here. Cartwright’s gone missing? Tough, that’s your responsibility, you find him. The Drop’s gone? Tough, it’s your fault so it’s your arse on the line and when Bobby finally realises you’re all mouth and no action, no one will be laughing harder than me. You’re a plastic gangster and you’re going to get what you deserve boy. Your big words and your bullshit won’t help you. You’re shitting it aren’t you? Well you should be, you cocky little fucker. You’re gonna learn what it means to be a face in this city. It’s not just about wearing a sharp suit and getting the best table in the restaurant. I’ll bet Finney here can’t wait to get to work on you. Isn’t that right Finney?’
It would have been better for me if Finney had said something at this point, anything really – though I was actually hoping he would tell Jerry Lemon to shut his big mouth – but it didn’t happen. His silence told me everything I needed to know about the accuracy of Jerry’s little prediction. Everyone was waiting for Bobby’s cocky young protégé to come crashing down.
‘Thanks Jerry,’ I told him quietly, ‘you’ve been a big help,’ and I walked towards the exit, all the while wondering if he was going to break his cue over my head. Finney ambled after me. It must have looked like I was being followed by the Grim Reaper.
When I reached the door I turned back. Jerry Lemon was still watching me intently, every eye in the room was on me. I gave him what I hoped looked like a faintly amused, half smile. ‘I’m glad you like my suit Jerry.’