Finders Keepers Edie Baylis (phonics readers .TXT) 📖

was he to argue? Keith’s brows knotted. Saul had made it very clear with non-too subtle reminders that he was in charge and no one else had the right to an opinion.

Trying the handle on the off chance, Keith was surprised when the door opened, but nowhere near as surprised as to what he saw in front of him.

NERO HAD TAKEN A CHANCE parking where he did. Keith could have gone to any of the flats in this block, being as the Powells owned all of them, including the ones not visible from the road, but he’d got lucky. He’d seen exactly which one on the third floor Keith entered.

Admittedly, he hadn’t relished the prospect of waiting whilst Keith got his end away with whichever tom he’d chosen, but at least he could report back to Jonah that Keith wasn’t up to anything, apart from being somewhere he should have been on his own time, rather than the firm’s.

Nero couldn’t say the same for Saul though. He had no idea where he was.

He opened the can of Fanta wedged in his drinks holder, wishing it were something stronger and toyed with trying Saul’s mobile on the off chance or perhaps even swinging the car around and heading back to the club. There was little point sitting outside whilst Keith poked some hooker, although in retrospect it was best to hang around in case he went on somewhere else afterwards.

He was about to flick through the paper when movement above caught his eye. Looking up, he squinted, seeing Keith leaving the flat, closely followed by Saul. Saul was in there too?

Nero watched the two men stride along the walkway towards the stairwell. Although he was a fair distance away, he could still recognise the thunderous look on Keith’s face and the equally rabid look on Saul’s.

Losing sight of them as they entered the stairwell, Nero shuffled down in the driver’s seat even though he’d taken great pains to park nowhere near Keith’s car. But where was Saul’s? He was pretty certain he’d have spotted a shiny new beamer gleaming like a star amongst the motley collection of motors in this estate. That he did know.

Nero clocked Saul and Keith appear from the stairwell, Saul’s arms waving around wildly. They were clearly having words. Whatever was going on had undeniably caused friction between the two of them.

As to what that was, he had no idea, but had the sneaking suspicion he would need to find out.

Thirty One

HEATH SAUNTERED UP to the Feathers entrance in his tuxedo, knowing he looked the bee’s knees. Although outwardly exuding confidence, inside he was jittering like a bag of leaves.

He was finally going inside the infamous Feathers club. Well-known in its own right for being one of the oldest, most esteemed clubs in Soho, there was also the personal connection from his side. This was the very club his grandfather had worked at and the very same club which was still owned by the family who, according to his sour-faced grandmother, had killed her husband.

Furthermore, if his speculations were correct, somewhere inside here were the jewels that, by rights belonged to his father and so, by proxy, him. This was the closest he’d come to getting his hands on them since everything had gone Pete Tong with the Helen Shepherd plan.

Heath took a deep breath as he loped up the gold steps. Flashing his email membership confirmation to the intimidating bouncer, he made his way inside, hoping he hadn’t trodden in dog shit, picturing clumps sticking to the deep pile burgundy carpet in a trail after him, leaving no question who the culprit was.

He’d have been less self-conscious with a woman accompanying him, but who could he have asked? He’d have asked Teagan if she’d bothered answering his messages, but she was probably getting far too much grief off that miserable bastard, Robert Adams. Still, he was here and the whole point was to get a decent inside look at the place in the hope that it might offer answers or at least hints as to which way to go next.

Heath glanced around the large reception, inwardly applauding the sumptuous décor; massive gold chandeliers oozing class as well as illuminating the lavish gold and burgundy colour scheme and the impressive feathers emblem, resplendent and gleaming on the wall behind the front desk.

He nodded at a couple milling around, glad to see that they too were dressed to the nines; the man in a well-tailored tuxedo and his attractive companion, splendid in a red evening dress.

‘Good evening, Sir.’

Following the voice, Heath moved to the reception desk and smiled confidently at the doll-like woman standing motionlessly behind it. He blinked, unsure whether the woman’s mouth had actually moved, fleetingly wondering whether she was a mannequin.

Throwing caution to the wind, he kept his smile fixed. ‘I’m a new member – Platinum VIP.’ He fished in his pocket. ‘I have the confirmation here somewhere and...’

‘If you take the first staircase on the left Sir, the VIP area is up there,’ the woman said, proving that she was a real person after all. ‘They’ll have your new membership card and be able to show you what’s what.’

‘Thank you,’ Heath nodded, moving in the direction the girl indicated.

Pushing through the double doors, he made his way up a darkened flight of steps, each stair illuminated by neon strip lights; the mirrored walls creating a strange sense of surrealism. The top of the staircase opened into another square lobby, complete with black chaise loungues and a gold and black reception desk - the edges lit with tiny lights.

This really was the business, Heath thought, heading towards a desk manned by a woman with perfectly styled long blonde hair.

Lena eyed the handsome young man, unable to stop herself from drinking in the cut of his tuxedo jacket that emphasised his wide shoulders and narrow waist. She hadn’t seen him before, but he looked like