David Field [Field - 17 Cavendish Square

Shirley Heathcote took a generous swig from her gin and tonic, placed the glass carefully back on the side table, thrust her wrists clear of the cuffs of her frilly blouse and broke into the first few bars of Aint Misbehavin. Then she allowed herself a slow smile of irony at her choice of music here in the Pelican Club, they were all misbehaving.

Even cute little Diane on Reception. Just out of business college, and skimming one in four of the credit cards that came her way over the counter, as the punters paid in advance for what the establishment had on offer. They were hardly likely to complain to the police after all, and little did their wives and girlfriends realise that the sizeable debits on their account records in favour of West Brampton Wholesalers was another little joke, this time invented by the boss Her Upstairs, as the staff called her Linda Clifford, who might well be past her own sell-by date, but knew exactly how to run a modern brothel in the age of electronic finance.

Shirleys eyes rose from the keyboard to resume ogling Tam the barman, that tall spunky Scotsman who was welcome to go roaming in her gloaming any time he liked, but who seemed to prefer to spend his time selling little packets of relaxation to the more nervous of his clientele, while ripping the boss off by adding a couple of quid to the price of every drink. The only one who never paid even the normal price was the bouncer, Jimbo, who was currently doing his best to chat up the dark-haired woman sitting up at the bar, who at the same time was trying to sell some sort of wholesale liquor deal to Tam and Jimbo, not realising that neither of them were even remotely management. She maybe thought Jimbo was the manager, and probably wouldnt be quite so keen on him cosying up to her as eagerly as he was if she knew that hed done time for GBH. At the same time she seemed to have eyes only for Tam, so she clearly had taste.

It was only early afternoon, but already it was getting busy, and nervous punters were sidling into the bar area by the minute, easing themselves into the plush chairs and eyeing the talent on display which, in this establishment, also meant on offer. In the far corner, the demure Chinese-looking girl calling herself Suzy was actually Vietnamese, and her clients would no doubt be very surprised to learn that the alter ego of Suzy Thong was in fact an overseas dental student whose parents had no idea how she supplemented their already generous allowance towards her career aspirations. Likewise, Voodoo Vanda, whose speciality was a fertility rite that featured dead chickens, was in real life a trainee physiotherapist called Gloria who had never got any closer to Haiti than a holiday to Barbados to be reunited with her cousins.

Shirley finished the number with one of her characteristic glissandos, and lit up a cigarette. A thirty-four year old schoolgirl put her wine glass down on the top of the piano for long enough to raise her box-pleated skirt and adjust a suspender.

Afternoon, Kim, Shirley said breezily. Another Oscar-winning performance as Samantha the Sex-crazed Sixth-former?

Its better than Sister Helen the Heavenly Head-job anyway, Kim replied with a grimace. Im still trying to get the jizz off my habit from last Friday. I reckon that bloke had been saving up for a month!

The saleswoman with the dark hair slid from her barstool, and Tam went out through the back door of the bar.

Since no-ones likely to be taking the money for the immediate future, whats that wine youre drinking? Shirley asked Kim. Kim smiled back as she watched Shirley slip behind the bar and help herself from the optic.

Youre going to get caught doing that one of these days, and then youll be out on your arse.

Trust me, Shirley reassured her. Ive been doing it for years, and Her Upstairs can afford it. Semillon Blanc, wasnt it?

With her reloaded gin and tonic glass in the other hand, Shirley retrieved her cigarette from the ashtray at the bass end of the keyboard and took a few heavy draws before extinguishing it.

Time for my meal break, she told Kim. Dyou fancy a kebab from down the road?

No thanks they give me flatulence. Cant go farting all over the paying customers.

Who knows? It might be the start of a new specialised service, Shirley grinned, then nodded towards her drink.

Keep an eye on that for me, theres a love. Ill be back in a couple of shakes. What times your strict headmaster due, anyway? she enquired, and Kim glanced up at the wall clock.

Not until around three oclock, or so Diane said. I only hope that hes not a real schoolteacher, dropping in for a quick one after schools finished.

School wasnt like that in my day, Shirley observed despondently. Mine was full of nuns anyway.

Please dont mention nuns! Kim pleaded as Shirley retrieved her handbag from under the piano and headed for the front door.

Kim was well down her second glass of wine when a succession of piercing screams echoed down the staircase, and a buzzing red light flashed behind the bar. Jimbo raced in from Reception just as Tam reappeared from somewhere near the cellar door and glanced down at the room number that was being displayed.

Twenty six! he shouted to Jimbo. Hey, hang on a wee minute is that no the bosss quarters?

Bloody right! Jimbo shouted, as he took the stairs two at a time.

It was all chaos on the next floor up, as men and women in various stages of undress and fantasy costume milled out of the boudoirs into the hallway to investigate the noise. Jimbo raced up the two flights as if taking part in an alpine marathon, and skidded to a halt in the open doorway of Room 26, where a speechless cleaner was pointing with horrified eyes and shaking hands at something lying on the bed. The something was Linda Clifford, and she had not died from any cause that might be remotely described as natural.

Her back was arched as if she had been limbo dancing, and her hands were clawed like talons as they reached for the ceiling. There was vomit all down the front of her tailored tank top, the tourniquet was still around her arm, and the hypodermic was lying on the floor at the side of the bed. After checking, and noting the absence of any pulse, Jimbo closed the door quickly and ordered everyone back downstairs. After reassuring the cleaner that she had seen nothing or else he ran back down to the bar and grabbed Tam by the bow tie.

What the fuck did you give the boss today?

The usual why?

Shes fucking dead , thats why. Im going to have to call the police, but keep your gob shut and play stupid. You shouldnt find that difficult.

He turned to address the curious crowd of punters and working girls who were still in the bar area.

Party times over for today, folks. The boss seems to have died in somewhat dodgy circumstances, and in a short while this place will have more cops in it than a pub after closing time. If you dont want to have to answer any inconvenient questions regarding your presence here, now might be a good time to return to your parking meters.

They needed no further persuasion, and by the time that the first siren became audible in the distance, the place was as empty as a synagogue in Beirut. Further down Cavendish Square, Shirley looked out from the doorway of the Olympus Kebab Palace, saw the first marked police vehicle skid to a sideways halt outside her place of unofficial employment, and decided that she would forfeit the remainder of her gin and tonic.