that to me again! How did you get in here?’
In front of her was a tall man with thinning silver-grey hair, and an extraordinarily handsome face. When he began to speak, it became clear that behind the distinguished façade was a vapid, unstable personality. There was only one thing Raymond Vallance could ever have been, and that is what he was: an actor.
‘Through the pool doors. I still have the key to this fairy bower, Rapunzel, remember?’ He had the mannered and over-emphasized diction of the lifelong performer, and shook the key at Cindy before he put it back in his pocket.
‘Well, long time, no see,’ Cindy said, trying to ignore his apparent froideur and assuming a coquettish air as she moved across to him. She made to slide her arms round his waist, but Vallance stepped away immediately. Close to, she could see that he was grey in the face, haggard, as though he hadn’t slept in days, and his clothes were creased and dirty. Not that that was necessarily anything new with Raymond, she thought, but he was clearly in no mood for fun and games.
‘Cindy,’ he said, ‘we have to be very careful now, you know that.’
‘For Chrissakes, Raymond. Harry’s being pickled in brine at Forest Lawn right this minute!’ Cindy cried. ‘We don’t have to hide anything.’
‘Don’t talk that way about him, you tacky little piece of trash,’ Vallance snapped, and Cindy recoiled from the cold anger in his voice. For a moment she had the impression that he was genuinely in the grip of strong emotion, almost as though he were fighting back tears – but if Raymond was so crazy about Harry, what had he been doing fucking the ass off Harry’s wife every time his back was turned:
‘Raymond, I haven’t seen you in weeks. I’m, like, totally strung out and I’m pregnant , Raymond. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’ she began, her voice trembling.
‘Not particularly,’ Vallance said, in the same odd, cold tone she had never heard from him before. ‘Other people’s children have never interested me much.’
‘Raymond—’ Cindy wailed.
Vallance cut her short. ‘I came here to ask you only two things, Cindy,’ he said. ‘First, what happened to the tapes?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, her eyes sliding away from his.
‘Did the police take them?’
‘I can’t find them – I mean the videos. They were in the safe and now they’re gone. I took the tapes from the phone out and—’
He interrupted her again. ‘And where are they?’
Cindy squirmed. ‘I . . . put ’em somewhere safe.’
‘Cindy,’ Vallance said, grabbing the girl by her upper arms, ‘tell me where the fucking tapes are right now or I’ll break your arm.’ He shook her hard, and she saw a darkness in his eyes she had not seen before. It chilled her to the bone.
‘I – I hired a PI to, like, look after us,’ Cindy stammered, beginning to cry. ‘I gave them to her. I had to, Raymond, it would’ve looked worse if I hadn’t, and I checked ’em all.’
Vallance thrust her violently away from him. She stumbled in the high, unwieldy shoes and fell backwards onto the floor. ‘You sent those tapes to a private investigator?’ he said, now white with rage. ‘Tell me her name.’
‘Page,’ Cindy sobbed. ‘Lorraine Page. On . . . West Pico.’
‘Well, I’ll take care of that,’ he said. He stood looking at the girl’s huddled body on the floor, listening to her cry. He turned to go, but then bent down beside her.
‘Cindy?’ His voice was oddly gentle. ‘Just one last thing I need to know, Cindy.’ She lifted her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing the blue eye-shadow in streaks across her face.
‘You killed Harry, didn’t you, Cindy?’
She sensed danger immediately and tried to roll away from him, but in one movement Vallance caught her by the hip, turned her onto her back and sat astride her. ‘Did you kill him, Cindy?’ he asked, as though they were exchanging pleasantries
In front of her was a tall man with thinning silver-grey hair, and an extraordinarily handsome face. When he began to speak, it became clear that behind the distinguished façade was a vapid, unstable personality. There was only one thing Raymond Vallance could ever have been, and that is what he was: an actor.
‘Through the pool doors. I still have the key to this fairy bower, Rapunzel, remember?’ He had the mannered and over-emphasized diction of the lifelong performer, and shook the key at Cindy before he put it back in his pocket.
‘Well, long time, no see,’ Cindy said, trying to ignore his apparent froideur and assuming a coquettish air as she moved across to him. She made to slide her arms round his waist, but Vallance stepped away immediately. Close to, she could see that he was grey in the face, haggard, as though he hadn’t slept in days, and his clothes were creased and dirty. Not that that was necessarily anything new with Raymond, she thought, but he was clearly in no mood for fun and games.
‘Cindy,’ he said, ‘we have to be very careful now, you know that.’
‘For Chrissakes, Raymond. Harry’s being pickled in brine at Forest Lawn right this minute!’ Cindy cried. ‘We don’t have to hide anything.’
‘Don’t talk that way about him, you tacky little piece of trash,’ Vallance snapped, and Cindy recoiled from the cold anger in his voice. For a moment she had the impression that he was genuinely in the grip of strong emotion, almost as though he were fighting back tears – but if Raymond was so crazy about Harry, what had he been doing fucking the ass off Harry’s wife every time his back was turned:
‘Raymond, I haven’t seen you in weeks. I’m, like, totally strung out and I’m pregnant , Raymond. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?’ she began, her voice trembling.
‘Not particularly,’ Vallance said, in the same odd, cold tone she had never heard from him before. ‘Other people’s children have never interested me much.’
‘Raymond—’ Cindy wailed.
Vallance cut her short. ‘I came here to ask you only two things, Cindy,’ he said. ‘First, what happened to the tapes?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, her eyes sliding away from his.
‘Did the police take them?’
‘I can’t find them – I mean the videos. They were in the safe and now they’re gone. I took the tapes from the phone out and—’
He interrupted her again. ‘And where are they?’
Cindy squirmed. ‘I . . . put ’em somewhere safe.’
‘Cindy,’ Vallance said, grabbing the girl by her upper arms, ‘tell me where the fucking tapes are right now or I’ll break your arm.’ He shook her hard, and she saw a darkness in his eyes she had not seen before. It chilled her to the bone.
‘I – I hired a PI to, like, look after us,’ Cindy stammered, beginning to cry. ‘I gave them to her. I had to, Raymond, it would’ve looked worse if I hadn’t, and I checked ’em all.’
Vallance thrust her violently away from him. She stumbled in the high, unwieldy shoes and fell backwards onto the floor. ‘You sent those tapes to a private investigator?’ he said, now white with rage. ‘Tell me her name.’
‘Page,’ Cindy sobbed. ‘Lorraine Page. On . . . West Pico.’
‘Well, I’ll take care of that,’ he said. He stood looking at the girl’s huddled body on the floor, listening to her cry. He turned to go, but then bent down beside her.
‘Cindy?’ His voice was oddly gentle. ‘Just one last thing I need to know, Cindy.’ She lifted her head and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing the blue eye-shadow in streaks across her face.
‘You killed Harry, didn’t you, Cindy?’
She sensed danger immediately and tried to roll away from him, but in one movement Vallance caught her by the hip, turned her onto her back and sat astride her. ‘Did you kill him, Cindy?’ he asked, as though they were exchanging pleasantries
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