It was an hour before the fuzz decided to let us go. At last we get to the car park and walk towards the cars. There's an ambulance in the car park and two beefy men are leaving the club carrying someone covered in blood, with torn clothes on a stretcher.
I say goodbye to Greta and the girls, light a Marlboro and go over to Tony.
"Do you want to go to an interesting place?" I ask him in a whisper.
Tony looks at me, he's curious.
"Shan't we wait for Max?" asks Leo.
"What if he's in prison?" I object.
Leo thinks about it for a minute, then he says, "Will you give me a lift?"
"I've got a better idea," I say.
"Not this evening," says Leo. "I'm done in."
"You're up for it, right?" I turn to Tony.
"Lead the way."
Leo gets into the Maserati with me and Tony follows us in the Porsche. We speed through the night traffic. I stop in front of Leo's house. He thanks me and gets out. I start off again and ten minutes later Tony and I stop the cars beside each other in the private car park of some blocks of flats in the suburbs.
We get out and stride towards number 6, I ring the bell without a name. I hear the door buzz as it opens.
"What floor is it?" asks Tony when we enter the hall of the building and press the button to call the lift.
"Second," I answer. "It will be quicker to walk up." And we head for the stairs.
On the first floor landing we meet a well-dressed bloke walking down the stairs. He works at my father's company... He looks away and pulls up the collar on his coat in embarrassment. He's recognised me.
When we get to the second floor, I ring the bell of the door at the end of the corridor.
YOU ARE READING
LAST CUBA LIBRE
General FictionIf you're looking for a gripping read, look no further than "Last Cuba Libre". Meet Jessica, who's a bit of a slag. Claudio, who rocks designer threads and snorts lots of cocaine. Then there's Tony, cruising in his Porsche, leaving a trail of broken...
