Private Oz (Private 7)

“Whoa!” she shrieked and pulled out the earplugs, grimacing at the noise.

“Sorry,” Darlene said. “Can you help? We’re looking for Micky Stevens.”

“Who?”

“The pop star?”

“Never ’eard of him,” the maid said irritably. “Just can’t stand this awful noise.” She paused. “Oh, I know who you mean! It’s his party … right?”

Darlene nodded.

“He’s got Suite 212. Terrible mess he always makes.”

“He’s not there.”

“I saw him only a few minutes ago. He went off with a girl.”

Johnny stepped forward. “Tall, skinny, black hair?”

The maid nodded. “They went that way. The older man … his boss.”

“Micky’s manager?”

“Whatever you call him … his room is down there … 215.”

Chapter 130

THEY RAN AT full pelt along the corridor. The door to 215 was locked. Johnny whipped a penknife from his pocket. Darlene stood aside as he levered up a blade and slid it into the lock. He twisted it right, left, back, then left again. They heard a click and the door opened.

Katia was on the bed crouching over Micky, her black eyes almost supernaturally huge. The rock star looked petrified, rigid, eyeing the tiny but deadly sword at his throat.

It took Darlene and Johnny a second to absorb it all. They saw Micky’s manager, Graham Parker, unconscious on the floor.

“What’s happening?” Johnny asked, trying to keep his voice as calm as he could.

“Yeah … what is happening?” Micky slurred. He had sobered up out of sheer terror, but his voice hadn’t caught up.

Katia blew the singer a kiss. “Dear Micky,” she said softly. “You see … just like all pop stars, you could never keep your cock in your pants, could you?”

“What?”

“You probably don’t even remember her, do you?”

“Remember who, Katia?”

“In 2010 Fun Park played a gig in Moscow. You must remember that!”

“Yeah.”

“After the show you met a young girl.”

“I’ve met a lot of …”

“Don’t!” Katia yelped and moved her hand forward a fraction.

Micky’s fists clenched. “Agh!”

“Oh stop being a baby!”