Читать книгу Sinner - Jacqui Rose - Страница 10

Charlie smiled as he held a small machete in his hand. ‘So, come on then, ladies and gentlemen, who’s first?’ He tapped the weapon in his palm as he nodded to one of his men to lock the door. Terrified by the intrusion, the club girls and clients began to scream, running in panic towards the fire exit, but their way was soon blocked by a handful of Charlie’s men, who herded them into the corner like sheep.

Having just come back from the bathroom located at the back of the club, it took Alfie a few moments to realise what was happening. Directly, he jumped into action, catching a glimpse of Vaughn smashing a bottle into the face of one of the intruders on the far side of the room.

About to go and help, Alfie felt a hard punch to his head, which had him spinning round to come face-to-face with a short, Mediterranean-looking man, holding a large knife. Undeterred, Alfie grabbed the chair next to him. He swung it round, hitting and opening the side of the man’s face who cried out in agony, but spurred on from the pain, the man, now covered in his own blood, threw his weight on top of Alfie, sending them both crashing to the floor.

Quickly, Alfie scrabbled along the polished floor on his knees, lunging forward to grab the man’s neck and twisting him round in a headlock. He forced his fingers into the man’s eyes until he heard the squelching of flesh. Panting, he shoved the man away and watched for a moment as he squirmed about on the floor in agony. Then Alfie barked, ‘You prick – who sent you? You think you can come into my club and try to scare off my punters? I’ll show you.’ Raising his fist ready to finish off the job, Alfie froze as a piercing scream filled the air. He turned and was shocked to see Charlie Eton – who he hadn’t realised was behind this until that very moment – standing and grinning as he held his machete against the neck of one of the girls.

Seeing the expression on everyone’s faces, Charlie filled the room with a wheezing laughter. ‘At least now I’ve got everyone’s attention …’ He stopped as he noticed Alfie on the far side of the club. ‘Hello there, Alf, good to see you. I thought for a moment I’d miss you …’ Charlie sniffed then drew the machete slowly down the woman’s chest.

‘Pretty little thing, isn’t she? I must say, Alf, you know how to pick your women.’

Alfie stood up, eyes firmly fixed on Charlie who walked slowly towards him. Alfie was aware that Vaughn, as well as the other men who worked for him, had been blindsided by Charlie’s attack.

‘Leave her alone, Charlie. I don’t know what this is about, but I do know your beef isn’t with her.’

Charlie Eton grinned again, his fat cheeks folding up in layers. ‘You’re right, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to cop a feel.’ Still holding the machete in one hand, Charlie’s other hand went under the woman’s skirt and between her legs. She shuddered in disgust, tears beginning to roll down her face as Charlie’s lardy fingers pulled and grabbed at her knickers.

Sliding his fingers inside her, a lecherous smirk on his face, he groaned in pleasure.

‘Mmmmm, that’s right baby, big daddy’s here. Does that feel good, sweetheart?’

Alfie’s face screwed up in rage. ‘For God’s sake, Charlie, let her go! Whatever it is you want, I’ll give it you. Just name it.’

‘Now that is a big promise, Alfie.’

Alfie, feeling desperate but trying to sound calm, said, ‘Please, Charlie. I’m begging you, just leave her alone. Come on, mate, what do you say?’ Getting no response, Alfie brought down his voice to a warm murmur. ‘Charlie. Charlie, for me … just let her go … as a favour, to me … you know what I’m talking about.’

A tiny flicker of acknowledgement passed over Charlie’s face for the briefest moment before it disappeared again. He considered the girl for a second, sneering, then pushed her forcefully aside, sending her flying into the bar and causing her to hit her head on the sharp corner.

Ignoring the blood now pouring from the girl’s head, Charlie stared hard at Alfie. A small vein pulsated on his temples. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I do know that you’re getting soft and maybe that’s why you think it’s okay to run this club right underneath my nose. You know me, I don’t like anyone taking away my business, so I thought I’d come and pay you a visit. Aren’t you going to offer me a drink, Alf?’

In the silence of the club, Alfie, feeling the pressure beginning to mount and knowing he had to play the game before someone got really hurt, walked behind the bar, his eyes still on Charlie, and grabbed a whiskey bottle off one of the silver shelves.

He unscrewed the top and poured a large measure into one of the glasses before walking back across to Charlie, offering him the drink as he struggled to control his trembling hands. ‘What are you on about? I’m not taking your business. We haven’t got the same clientele, and we certainly haven’t got the same kind of girls as you. I’d say yours were rather specialised, wouldn’t you?’

Knocking the whiskey back in one, Charlie winced as the burn of the drink reached the back of his throat. ‘You must be doing well if you can serve this stuff, which goes back to my point really. There isn’t room for two of us. Times are hard, it’s not like it used to be, so the way I see it is, I was here first.’

Fighting his sense of alarm, Alfie tried to play it down. ‘Come off it, Charlie.’

Charlie narrowed his eyes, giving Alfie a cold stare. ‘No, you come off it. You and I go back a long way, Alf, and that means something, so I’m going to do something I wouldn’t normally do; I’m going to give you a choice. You either shut this place down … or you work for me.’

Amazed, and knowing this was the last thing he needed to deal with, Alfie cut in. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

Glancing around, Charlie smiled. ‘If you let me finish, Alf, then you might understand. The fact is that even I can see it’d be a shame to see this place closed down. I mean it’s got a bit of class; you and Vaughnie have done a good job with it. So, I reckon – and this is only because I like you, Alf – that if you kept this place open and do what you gentlemen do best, then we could split the profits, say seventy-thirty to me, then everyone’s laughing. Well, I will be anyway.’

Alfie spoke bitterly through gritted teeth, his head beginning to pound. ‘You’re having a bubble. I would never give you a penny.’

Straight-faced, Charlie lowered his voice, his tone toxic. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I’m afraid, Alf, whether you like it or not, you’ve got a decision to make … Let me know as soon as possible what you decide. The offer won’t be on the table for long.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘You’ve known me long enough to realise that wouldn’t be a good idea.’ Then without warning, Charlie purposefully dropped the empty glass he was holding onto the floor, shattering it into tiny fragments before inexplicably leaning forward to give Alfie a kiss on the cheek. ‘It’s good to see you, Alf, it really is. Next time we shouldn’t leave it so long.’ And with that Charlie turned and left, and as Alfie watched, stressed and tense, his mind wandered to the anonymous letters and a shadow of fear crossed his face.

Five minutes later, Alfie was running down Frith Street, pushing past a large crowd of Chinese tourists who were busily taking photos of the outside of Ronnie Scott’s jazz club with their iPhones.

Catching up to Charlie’s leisurely stroll, Alfie breathlessly blurted out his words. ‘Charlie, hold up. Wait! I need to talk to you. It’s urgent.’

Surrounded by his men, and looking surprised, Charlie turned around, beads of sweat pricking at his forehead, his overweight body heaving from the exertion.

‘I’ve already told you what the deal is, Alf, it’s non-negotiable. I’m not going to change my mind, but of course if you’ve already made a decision and you know what’s good for you, then I’m all ears.’

Turning pale, Alfie shook his head. ‘It’s not about that.’

Charlie shrugged his shoulders, the weight of his body making it look like a strain. ‘Then what?’

Glancing at Charlie’s men, Alfie stepped closer in, not wanting anyone but Charlie to hear. He spoke in what was almost a whisper. ‘Have you got them? Have you got them as well?’

Unable to fully turn his head to look at Alfie due to how close he was, Charlie, clearly curious whispered back, ‘Got what, Alf?’

‘You know: Have you got them?’

There was a long pause from Charlie before he said, ‘Are you asking what I think you’re asking? You want some young, fresh meat?’

Charlie’s words were like an electric shock to Alfie. He jumped back, staring at him in horror. ‘Jesus Christ, no! Who do you think I am? You know I’m not into that shit.’

Chuckling, Charlie spoke leeringly as he licked his lips. ‘Things change. People change. Tastes change.’

Wiping his face almost as if he could wipe the strain away, Alfie snapped, ‘Well not my tastes, and certainly not for that.’

Stepping back to let a kid on a bicycle go past, Charlie laughed, though his expression showed interest. ‘Then what are you talking about?’

‘I just … I just …’ With his hands in his jacket pockets, Alfie stopped, nervously curling his fingers around one of the anonymous letters he’d received last week. ‘I just … well I just wanted to know if you’d got them as well. If he’d sent …’

‘Got what, Alf? Sent what? For God’s sake, you aren’t making any sense.’

Retreating and feeling overwhelmed, Alfie, unable to bring himself to say what he wanted to, shook his head. ‘You know what, it doesn’t matter.’

Charlie stared at Alfie as he backed away. ‘Are you okay? You don’t look so good. In fact, mate, you look terrible.’

Feeling his heart race, Alfie shrugged. His voice was small. Tight. Strained. ‘I’m fine. Are you? Are you fine?’

‘Well I’m certainly not acting weird, if that’s what you mean.’

Almost in tears, Alfie gave the tiniest of headshakes. ‘You know it’s not, Charlie, but you know exactly what I’m talking about. You know why I’m asking if you’re okay.’

Again, another flicker of acknowledgement crossed Charlie’s face and again, it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Then matching Alfie’s small, strained voice, Charlie mimicked, ‘No, Alf, I don’t know. I have no idea what you’re talking about, and if you want my advice, I’d lay off whatever it is you’re sticking up your nose. I’ll see you around … Oh, and make sure you come to that decision soon.’

As Charlie quickly turned around, feeling a stab of anxiety, he knew exactly what Alfie Jennings had been talking about.

At the same time as Alfie Jennings was heading back to his club, Franny was on the other side of town. Panicked, she hurried along the deserted street that ran parallel to King Henry’s Dock in Woolwich, checking behind her every few yards as she made a right turn into Ruston Road.

As she crossed a small bit of wasteland, a loud rustling noise coming from near the derelict warehouse startled her. Her chest went tight, and her breathing became shallow as she nervously took a step back, crouching down behind a large discarded oil drum and feeling the chill of the wind coming from off the river Thames.

Hearing the noise again, Franny tried to slow down her breathing, desperate to stop panic overwhelming her. She pushed herself further against the rusty oil drum, not moving for fear of being seen by whoever it was. She stayed crouching for a moment, listening carefully. There it was, and it seemed like it was getting nearer.

Trembling and bracing herself, she slowly peered around the drum, still trying to keep herself as far back as she could, but suddenly she let out a long sigh of relief as a brown, mangey cat rummaged in a pile of rubbish.

Standing up, relieved but annoyed with herself at how on edge she was, Franny felt her phone vibrate. Quickly pulling it out of the pocket of her beige suede jacket, she saw it was Alfie. She ignored it, but it rang again … And again. Deciding it was better to take the call, Franny took a deep breath, answering as casually as she could.

‘Hey, Alfie! You okay? How’s it going?’

‘How many frigging times does it take for you to answer?’

Sensing the irritation in his voice, Franny held her own temper and kept her tone as light as possible. She trilled at him. ‘Sorry, babe, I didn’t hear it. Anyway, what’s up?’

‘Where are you?’

Absentmindedly, Franny spun around, staring at the small new-build block of flats in front of her. She could hear the tension coming into her own voice. ‘Me? Where am I?’

‘Well who else do you thinking I’m talking to?’

‘I’m … I’m …’

On the other end of the line, Alfie impatiently cut in. ‘Look, it don’t matter. Just get yourself down to the club straightaway. We’ve had a bit of trouble. How long will you be anyway?’

Awkwardly, Franny said, ‘The thing is, Alf, I’m a bit busy right now. I mean, do you really need me? Can’t you and Vaughn handle whatever it is?’

There was a long pause and Franny could hear Alfie’s breathing down the phone as he seethed. Eventually he spoke.

‘Listen to me, Fran, I ain’t in the mood for this, so whatever the hell it is that you’re doing at this time of night: having a bath, painting your toenails, watching a bit of Netflix … I. Don’t. Care. Because all I care about is you getting yourself down here asap. Understand?’

‘Alfie, like I say …’

Franny frowned at her phone as Alfie cut off the call. Sighing, she glanced at the time. It was just gone one-thirty in the morning. The night-time traffic in London was almost as bad as it was during the day, so she knew it’d take her at least an hour and a half to get back to Soho, and by that time, she had no doubt Alfie would be gunning for her, and that was even before Vaughn got involved. As she saw it, it would be pointless even trying to rush back and pretend she’d just been in the bath. And okay, when she did finally get there, Alfie would have a hundred and one questions for her. Still, what else could she do? She’d just have to man up and face that when she saw him, but for now, she figured she might as well stay and do what she was here to do, because after all, she was already in trouble. Big trouble.

With her mind made up, Franny defiantly turned off her phone, shoving it back into her pocket as she headed for the row of maisonettes across the road. She tried to push the thought of Alfie, and the guilt, from her mind.