Private Oz (Private 7)

Johnny glanced around, saw Chris Martin from Coldplay talking to Russell Crowe. At the other end of the bar half of INXS shared a joke with Michael Bublé

Darlene wasn’t paying much attention. She caught the eye of the bar tender. She was good at doing that.

“Hello, darlin’,” he oozed. “What can I interest you in?”

She switched on the charm. “I’m a close friend of Micky’s.”

“Of course you are, sweetheart!”

She flashed her invite and the guy changed his tone.

“Okay. Cool. So, what do you want, honey?”

“Where’s Micky right now?’

The man shrugged. “How should I know?”

“I really would like to know,” she hissed. “And I really think Micky would like me to know too. Get me?”

He straightened. “Upstairs in his suite. 212. Second floor, far end … I’d use the stairs, the heads are taking the elevator straight to the washrooms on second.” And he tapped his nose.

Chapter 127

MICKY’S SUITE LOOKED like the set of Satyricon … precisely what would be expected of a rock star on his twenty-seventh birthday. Scantily clad, kohl-eyed women tottered around clasping champagne glasses, a dealer sat in one corner looking pleased with himself, a female dwarf in a tutu carried around a tray heaped with cocaine.

Micky and Katia held court surrounded by admirers. He strummed an acoustic guitar and sang one of his lesser known songs. A spliff dangled from the corner of his mouth.

Hemi filled an armchair close to where the bedroom flowed into a vast lounge. He’d positioned himself there deliberately so he could follow the action. He was drinking his usual sparkling mineral water and nobody spoke to him.

Micky was on the last repeat chorus of his song when he saw Hemi roll forward and collapse to the carpet in a wobbly groaning heap. He stopped strumming immediately, turned to Katia. She hadn’t seen the big man crumple, but heard the sound of him reaching the floor. She was first up and across the room. Micky came round the end of the bed still holding his guitar.

Katia crouched beside Hemi and managed to roll him over. He was out cold and began to snore. She raised her head to Micky, and burst out laughing. The rock star looked concerned for a moment but then found it very funny. “Too much sparkling water, Hemi,” he mumbled.

Katia stood up and came round to hug Micky. “Let’s get outta here.”

He looked down at her, eyes swimming. “But it’s my party.”

“I want to take you somewhere quiet and lick you all over.”

Micky giggled stupidly. “Well, that’s an offer I ain’t gonna refuse … am I?”

“Graham’s room is empty. He’s banned everyone …”

“Graham’s?” Micky suddenly looked scared.

“Don’t worry … He’s downstairs schmoozing. I got the key earlier from reception … I wanted us to see in your birthday together … just you and me. I want to protect you. No one can touch you ’til after midnight.”

Chapter 128

THEY STUMBLED ALONG the corridor giggling. Reaching the door, Katia slipped the key into the lock, opened the door slowly, pulled Micky inside. Graham Parker was getting up from the end of the bed, a bottle of Bourbon in his hand. He looked smashed, had a split lip and a line of Steri-strips across his cheek.

“Ah!” Katia said.

“Don’t mind me,” Parker slurred.

Micky began to jabber incoherently pointing at Parker.

“What’s he saying?”