Tap Dance Kidnap

  Tap Dance Kidnap

  By

  S M Mala

  Published by S M Mala

  Copyright © S M Mala 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication is to be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any forms or by any means, including photocopying, recording or any other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher/author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  All characters in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to any persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Visit my website: www.smmala.com to see other titles.

  All helpful advice and genuine comments are welcome.

  And if you liked what you read then please review on Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk or Goodreads.com. All positive comments are deeply appreciated.

  Dedicated to all of us who like tap dancing (even if we’re so shockingly bad it’s a terror to watch… like me).

  Just put your dancing shoes on and get into the groove…

  ‘What a tune!’

  … shouted out Kit Foley.

  He was unable to stop his feet from moving. It was a classic 70’s dance mix which he’d always loved.

  ‘Are we going to get served, mate?’ the small man, his hair covering his eyes, asked.

  Kit noticed the guy looked agitated while he continued to pour out the gin and tonics for two women who seemed to be impressed by his gyrating hips.

  ‘In a minute,’ grinned Kit in response. ‘I have to serve these beautiful ladies.’

  He smiled brightly, seeing them both give him the eye.

  Deep down he knew all his flirting was a waste of time but that’s what the punters wanted.

  ‘Jesus Kit, will you start concentrating on the customers and less on your fancy footwork? Is it that spicy curry I got you from ‘Hot Flush’ that’s making you shake your booty?’ sighed Sean, working the lager pump. ‘These people come to drink not watch you strut your stuff.’

  ‘It spices up the night and certainly gives me a hot flush,’ one of the women giggled, taking her drink and smiling seductively. ‘Kit knows how to brighten things up.’

  ‘What a tune!’ he shouted out again when another funk driven song came on.

  ‘You know what?’ smirked Sean, serving the irritated man at the bar. ‘If I was your boss, I’d sack you for not pulling your weight.’

  ‘I’d agree,’ Kit laughed out, moving his hips to the sound of the bass. ‘But as I am the boss I can’t actually sack myself, can I?’

  He walked out from behind the bar and looked at the array of customers. It was Thursday evening and the weekend had started. He weaved his way through the throngs of people and took the empty glasses and bottles.

  Then he caught his reflection and smiled.

  He was medium height, his shoulders and arms solid muscle from the amount of time he spent in the gym. Kit got his hair cut shorter and it suited him. His mother said it brought out the sparkle in his blue grey eyes but he realised he was receding a little and wanted to keep that less obvious.

  For a thirty six year old man, he looked fit and healthy.

  You could never tell that he was once a cocaine addict.

  His late twenties and early thirties had been a messy time and now he was a reformed character, thanks to his mother and older brother Justin.

  And never forgetting the real reason he turned his life around.

  His daughter Grace.

  Nine years old, going on forty nine from the words of wisdom that came from her lips.

  His ex-wife dumped him two years earlier when she had fallen in love with someone else. It hurt him then as it did now. He knew the man would look after her and, most importantly, his child.

  Kit had thought he’d turned a corner when he got clean only to find his ex preferred him when he was high on something or another. Kristin thought the cleaned up version was boring.

  The new and improved Kit could see she wasn’t the one for him.

  But there was a downside.

  It had affected his libido and for a few years his little Kit hadn’t been able to rise to the occasion or even the turning on of a light.

  He therefore took out all his frustration in the gym.

  The man was very pent up.

  And to protect his manhood and pride, he would often recoil when approached by the opposite sex. It had got so bad even his mother noticed his muscles would stiffen when she touched him. He didn’t mean to do it but now it was a normal reaction, the inability to be touched by another human hand.

  He smiled at his reflection and carried on picking up the empties. From the corner of his eye, he noticed three men walk in.

  Then he did a double take, instantly recognising one of them.

  Peter Tooley.

  The man his ex-wife was living with. A nice guy but with a very chequered background.

  He was in the know with some of the more successful villains in West London, though he’d never get his own hands dirty. Peter ran a string of bookies throughout London and it was common knowledge this was a front for more than that.

  When Kit found out that Kristin was seeing Peter, he didn’t know what to do.

  Peter was a small time crook, whether she wanted to admit it or not. But he knew she was probably aware and got a kick out of that fact she was with a bad boy, who was more like a middle aged dodgy geezer.

  The first thing he thought about doing, when he found out about them, was to kick the living shit out of Peter. Kit realised he’d only end up in a ditch if he did. To his shock, Peter had been very courteous about the whole thing, knowing Kit’s main concern would be the well-being of Grace.

  And he had been assured by the man in question that nothing would ever happen to his daughter. Knowing Peter would keep his word, this only slightly reassured Kit but it was out of his control, especially when Kristin announced she was carrying Peter’s baby.

  It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was sleeping with him while married to Kit.

  And, as per usual, he was the last one to know.

  Kit made sure he cited it in the divorce.

  ‘Hey!’ Kit said, walking up to Peter and shaking his hand. He glanced at the man with ginger hair and a pale complexion. He was a couple of inches shorter than him but seemed wider by the amount of muscle on his bones. ‘Good to see you.’

  ‘Hi Kit,’ smiled Peter, glancing quickly around. ‘Things look busy.’

  ‘Yeah, business is good. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Guys, can you go and get some drinks while I have a word?’ he politely asked his shifty looking friends. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk? Privately?’

  Knowing this sounded ominous, he gestured to Sean that he was going out as Peter followed.

  They walked into the back office. Peter sat down.

  ‘I just left Kristin and the kids,’ Peter smiled. ‘Grace seems hooked on those reality programmes at the moment especially the dancing one.’

  ‘She keeps saying she wants to see the show when it goes on tour,’ laughed Kit then smiled. ‘I said I’d think about it. How’s Duncan? Did he like the present? Gracie didn’t know what to get her little brother. Two years already! How time flies. Do you want a drink?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Peter replied and looked a little uncomfortable. ‘I need your help but it’s a bit complicated.’

  ‘I would never normally ask,’

  … began Peter, leaning forward. ‘But this comes from someone high up in the business I work in. I’m at a loss on what to do.’

  ‘You mean it’s one of the bigger fish, so to speak?’ Kit said, wondering what it had to do with him. �
��I’m certainly no big fry!’

  ‘I’d never get you involved. You know, I respect how you cleaned up your act. Me and Kristin, it sort of happened. I know you were really broken up but we fell in love,’ Peter whispered.

  There was a little stab in his gut which Kit ignored, so he smiled through it.

  ‘I know, man. No hard feelings,’ he lied. ‘These things happen. You’ve just got to move on.’

  For a moment Peter stared at Kit.

  ‘You’re good and you’ve got this place,’ began Peter, sitting back in his chair. ‘You know Kit, I’ve known you since you were a teenager and, let’s be honest, you took some flak for Justin.’

  ‘He’s my older brother,’ shrugged Kit, knowing what was coming next. ‘And he liked to dance but he’s not gay.’

  ‘But still, it’s a hard thing for the other kids to let go of. And then there’s you, always dancing and having fun. It must run in the blood.’

  ‘Are you implying that I’m queer now?’ he said, forcing a smile.

  ‘Well, once upon a time you weren’t without a woman but now? Seems you like to be on your own.’

  ‘I’m not bent.’

  Kit knew he was going red. People liked to talk and they had done about his brother for years. Unfortunately, Kit got the brunt of the teasing as Justin could stand up for himself, being nearly six foot. The kids thought it was funnier to pick on Kit instead.

  That’s when he took up Tae Kwando. He really had no choice.

  ‘Have you come here to discuss my brother’s dance moves as well as my sexual orientation?’ he grimaced. ‘I suppose Kristin filled you in with a few things.’

  Peter blushed and Kit knew his ex-wife had blabbed.

  ‘She did say while you were on the charlie you were finding things a bit difficult and … look Kit, I haven’t come here to discuss your problems.’

  ‘What have you come here for?’ he said, wanting to punch Peter, mainly to hide his own humiliation that the man knew he couldn’t getting it up. ‘I’ve got a busy bar out there.’

  ‘Does Justin still run a dance school in Ravenscourt?’ Trying not to look taken aback by the question, Kit nodded. ‘And he’s had it for five years, is that right?’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘This is going to sound strange but there’s someone who attends his classes and, well…’ Peter broke out into a sweat and wiped his brow with his fingers. ‘This person we need to keep an eye on.’

  ‘‘We?’’

  ‘I think I need a drink,’ sighed Peter, shaking his head. ‘I know this is going to be a strange thing to ask. You went to dance lessons too, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ huffed Kit, standing up so he could get a bottle of vodka from the fridge and some glasses. ‘And so what if I did? My mother loved musical theatre and because she used to tread the boards doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with her kids doing the same. Justin had talent and I had two left feet.’ He poured out a vodka and handed it to Peter. ‘Actually I wasn’t that bad but when other kids started picking on me, it changed everything. I stopped when I was thirteen. Girls and hormones got in the way. Justin? He was very successful in the West End and now he has his own dance studio. That’s what he always wanted.’

  ‘But you can dance? Tap dance?’

  ‘I’m pretty rusty but it’s still there. Grace was better than me when she was three!’ Kit started to laugh. ‘What’s this got to do with the person you need to keep an eye on?’

  ‘They need to take her into hiding for a few weeks.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Kidnap her.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  … spluttered Kit when he took a sip of his drink. ‘Kidnap?’

  ‘Look, I’m at a loss on what to do,’ Peter said, getting to his feet and looking up at him. ‘There’s been a lot of research done on the woman and I didn’t want to get you involved. The problem is that she attends your brother’s class twice a week and has done so for over two years. These people, they know about our link being Kristin and Grace.’

  ‘Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this!’ Kit replied angrily. ‘The whole agreement is that she was never to get involved in what you got up to. She was to be kept safe.’

  ‘I’m a bookie,’ Peter replied, deadpan. ‘But sometimes there are people who think they need a piece of you. Right now I’m that person which means so are you. No-one is going to get hurt but they need her to lie low in the not too distant future.’

  ‘Why are you telling me? You know Justin would never get involved in something like that! He’d go straight to the police.’

  ‘I know she’s made friends at the classes. What we need is get someone inside to-.’

  ‘No way!’ he said, shaking his head from side to side. ‘Firstly my brother will know something’s up if I start to take lessons now and secondly, I don’t want to get involved in anything like that! I don’t want to go to prison!’

  ‘Look, the chances of you getting locked up are minimal. The probability we’ll both be given a going over is max,’ he said, his hand starting to shake. ‘Do you think I want to do it? I’ve got a family and-.’ Peter bit his lip. ‘And so have you.’

  ‘How can I be of any help?’

  ‘Kit, someone wants to meet you to explain. Can you come with me now?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Mate, I can’t take that as an answer. Both you and I have no choice in this I’m afraid.’

  Knocking back his drink, Kit could feel his heart racing.

  Never did he think he’d ever be in this position.

  He thought Peter’s connections would almost certainly make them steer clear of him and the business.

  Now he realised he’d misjudged his extended family which meant he was shafted.

  ‘This is Kit Foley,’

  … Peter said when they walked out of the bar towards a dark blue car whose windows were blackened out.

  Slowly the screen came down and Kit held his breath, feeling a breeze take hold of his face.

  ‘Get in,’ a well-spoken reply came. ‘Just Mr Foley.’

  Glancing at Peter, he shook his head furiously at the man. Kit did as he was told and stepped into the car. Soon as the door was shut, he turned around to see an elderly gentleman smiling at him.

  ‘Firstly, I’m not happy about this,’ said Kit, not knowing who the man with thinning grey hair and a very skinny face was. The intense brown eyes were boring into him. ‘I don’t think you’ve got the right guy.’

  ‘Let me introduce myself. My name is Wilton, Jeremy Wilton. Mr Foley, we need your help. I understand your alarm but, believe me, you’re not in any danger. We need to protect this woman for a short time. Due to her living arrangements it’s very difficult to get close to her. She’s guarded around the clock. The only time she’s allowed to be on her own is when she goes to her tap lessons. My client wants to make sure that she can be held safely for a few weeks as they look into a few other matters.’

  The voice was very clipped and clear. Kit wondered what a man like him was doing getting involved in the seedy world of London crime.

  ‘Kidnapping is kidnapping and I’m not a criminal. Yes, I have done a few dodgy things in my time like-.’

  ‘Occasional drug dealing and not forgetting your addiction to cocaine, which I’m pleased to say you overcame four years ago,’ the man replied, in his softly spoken voice. ‘And this isn’t a kidnapping. We just want her to be in a safe place while we look into a few things. And sometimes Mr Foley, it’s a different sort of talent we need. It seems you can help.’

  ‘I really don’t know how?’ replied Kit, letting out a disgruntled sigh. ‘I just want a peaceful life.’

  ‘You seem to live a rather isolated one at the moment,’ the man replied and smiled, revealing extremely white teeth which didn’t suit his withered features. ‘I know you wake up early and go to the gym where you stay for approximately ninety minutes. Then you have breakfast in the local café, a
lways scrambled or poached eggs and you keep on a low carb diet. Afterwards you go home and get ready for work. At a certain time in the afternoon you leave to pick up your daughter and then you spend time together before returning her home to your ex-wife, Kristin.’

  ‘Have you been following me?’

  ‘Most evenings you work. On your rare days off, you spend with Grace or your family. Sometimes you even go to the cinema alone and watch a film. Very rarely do you go out and socialise and it seems, sadly, you do not spend a lot of time in the company of women.’

  ‘I like being on my own,’ he said defensively, not knowing this man from Adam. ‘Why did you check me out?’

  ‘You’re rather easy on the eye,’ the man suggestively smiled, making Kit stiffen. ‘And I need you to do something for me.’

  ‘I won’t break the law. I’m a licensee and I don’t want anything to stop me from trading.’

  ‘Your integrity will stay intact plus you will be rewarded well for your assistance. I know your bar is ticking over but you do need an injection of cash, I believe, for some refurbishments including a new kitchen area. Then there’s the child support. It seems you’re just about making ends meet but you need some financial input.’

  ‘What do you want?’ Kit took a deep breath and knew the man had done a thorough background check.

  ‘Justin Foley, your older sibling, runs the dance school which we need to infiltrate. What we would like you to do is join the class our target is attending.’

  ‘Target?’

  ‘I don’t want to reveal too much and ‘target’ is more appropriate than ‘victim’ as she will not be.’

  ‘Why take her away?’

  ‘I can’t say too much.’

  ‘And what if I say ‘no’?’

  ‘Mr Foley, we are aware that Grace Foley lives with Peter Tooley and your ex-wife. I would never threaten the welfare of a child but you have to see it from my point of view. It is Mr Tooley who is being asked to organise this. If you choose not to co-operate then his family, which is yours, might suffer. Not from me or my client’s but there are other people more, how can I put it? More passionate about this situation and determined that it will happen. They have been briefed.’