They wound down through the back corridors of the theatre. What a shit-hole, thought Miles, looking at the peeling paint and concrete floors. Finally the lad pointed at a door and stuffed the money in his pocket.
‘He’s in there.’
Miles knocked and entered without being asked. Euan O’Neil was sitting in front of a long illuminated mirror where a young girl was carefully taking off his make-up. Get yourself a new agent, thought Miles, looking around at the shabby dressing room. It was small, simple, dotted with a couple of vases of wilting flowers, and a portable TV and video on the counter. Ah, that was good, thought Miles.
‘Can I help you?’ said Euan, turning to look at him.
Miles extended a hand. ‘Miles Ashford. From the Globe Club.’
O’Neil glanced at the make-up girl, then waved her away.
‘Of course, Miles,’ he said, shaking Miles’ hand, back in full PR mode. ‘Thanks for the membership, it’s a great little club.’
‘Did you have a good time the other night?’ Miles said.
Euan’s Hollywood smile faded.‘How can I help you, Mr Ashford?’ he asked. ‘I’m very busy.’
Miles placed a padded envelope on the counter in front of the mirror.
‘At the Globe Club we value discretion, privacy, but also security. As you probably know, our membership is wealthy and private, and we make every effort to ensure it stays that way.’
In the reflection, Miles watched Euan’s handsome face frown, the panstick making the lines on his face look darker, thicker and troubled. He reached into the envelope and pulled out a black, unmarked video cassette.
‘What’s this?’
‘Footage from the club.’
He stepped over to the TV and slotted the tape into the machine, waiting as a grainy black-and-white image of Euan and the brunette crackled on screen. The accompanying soundtrack was a series of moans and urgent panting. Impatiently, Euan reached over and clicked it off.
‘OK, enough. I get the fucking message. Who’s seen this?’
‘No one besides myself and the Globe’s head of security.’ Euan looked relieved and then irritated.‘I’m assuming you’re here to give me this back?’
‘Of course.’
His face softened. ‘Thanks.’
‘As I say, the privacy of our members is paramount. You can imagine if that tape got into the wrong hands it would be worth millions.’
Euan’s face changed instantly. ‘Are you trying to screw me?’ he said angrily. ‘Because I warn you, Ashford, my lawyers will have you in court before you can blink.’
Miles smiled to himself. He hadn’t expected the actor to be a complete pushover. He’d met enough celebrities in his time to know that you didn’t get well known without being tough and ruthless.
He shook his head slowly. ‘I don’t want your money, Mr O’Neil. Ask around, I’ve got enough of my own.’
‘So what do you want?’
‘Nothing. I just wanted you to know that this will go no further.’
Miles had been sceptical, but Chrissy had been right once again. They couldn’t blackmail Euan O’Neil, especially when he’d already been caught with his pants down. Instead, they needed him on side, spreading the word to his Hollywood friends about this hot new club where the women were sexy and discretion was guaranteed. And where the A list came, so would lesser mortals. They wouldn’t be joining some club owned by London rich kid Miles Ashford; they would be joining a secret cabal made up of the industry’s hottest movers and shakers.
‘This is yours,’ said Miles, ejecting the tape and handing it to the actor. ‘There are no copies. This will just be between us.’
‘Oh,’ said Euan, looking down at the tape. ‘I’m sorry if I was a little hasty there. This is very good of you.’
Miles nodded sympathetically. ‘My pleasure,’ he said and began to turn towards the door.
‘Hey, listen,’ said Euan. ‘At least let me buy you a drink? I’ve got a few hours to ki