The Qadesh Club

by David Lashmar

  “Can I help you, dears?” she asked not really meaning it but it was more polite than demanding to know what they were doing standing on her landing.

  Ernie stepped towards her and flashed his i.d. card at her slow enough for her to see the Metropolitan Police badge on it but to fast for her to read his name. “I’m trying to reach the gentleman who lives here,” he said, the professional policeman in him coming out, “have you seen him?”

  “Oooh! Is he in trouble? You’re the second lot of people here to see him. What’s he done then? Unusual for Andrew to have visitors!”

  “When did you last see him,” inquired Ernie.

  “Let’s see,” her brow furrowed causing even more lines to appear, “day before yesterday. Yes, that’s it. Is he in trouble then? Always struck me as a nice young man. Always kept himself to himself.”

  “You said someone else was here to see him. Who?” asked Francesca.

  “Don’t know, luv. Two men were 'ere yesterday. Well dressed, mind you. I’m not sure but I think they must have had a key because I saw them coming out and I know Andrew wasn’t home. Can’t have been burglars, though, too well dressed. Didn’t look the sort,” she shook her head as if confirming to herself what she had said.

  “Well, thanks for your help and if I need to ask any more questions may I rely on your co-operation?” Ernie knew how to play people. Old people were usually lonely people and all lonely people liked to feel important.

  “Of course, luv. My names Mrs. Bellamy. If I can be of any help don’t hesitate to knock. I hope Andrews all right. He’s a nice man. Very kind, “she nodded as she turned and shut her door behind herself.

  She may have gone but Ernie knew the curtains would be twitching and no doubt as soon as they left the neighbourhood gossip-mongers would be hard at it. He looked at the red door.

  She saw the look and interpreted it immediately. “I have a key,” she stated simply. She shrugged with her left shoulder and shook her head a little, “but I don’t know if it `s for this door.”

  “Well, we won’t know unless we try!”

  Ernie went first cautiously peering into each room as they passed them until they entered the living room at the end of the short hallway. The first thing that struck Francesca was the tidiness of the place. When he was satisfied that there was no-one home he turned to her,

  “Where did you get the key?”

  “He sent it to me,” she answered truthfully.

  “Hmm,” the look told her he did not believe her, “do all your informants give you their house keys?”

  “Maybe I’m on better terms with my informants than you are!” she snapped back.

  He carried on as though he had not heard her answer, “You been here before?”

  “No.”

  He breathed out heavily, “Look around but don’t touch anything,” he saw the look she gave him. She was not accustomed to being given orders. He pulled out a pair of latex gloves from a pocket and handed them to her, “This may become a crime scene. I don’t want your fingerprints all over the place!”

  They searched as quickly as they could neither of them really sure what they were looking for.

  “The other two that were here, were they police as well?”

  “I doubt it,” he replied, “no-one, as far as I know, but me is interested in Thanos.” Damn it, he thought, he had done it again. What was wrong with him? Twice, now, he had slipped up in front of this girl. He could have kicked himself.

  “Our Mr. Thanos is a bit of an enigma. I can’t find out anything worth knowing about him. What can you tell me about him?” she had, unwittingly, dropped her guard as well.

  Ernie felt a sigh of relief go through him. Obviously, this inability to think before opening your mouth was catching. “He’s a dangerous man. You really don’t want to cross him!”

  Dangerous! She thought about the package Andy had sent to her. Her mind was racing as she contemplated breaking, what would possibly be, the biggest sex scandal to hit the UK but, and it was a big but, there was, apparently, according to this Inspector, a big danger to herself. Putting herself into dangerous situations was nothing new to her after all, it was a dangerous situation that had forced her not to just leave her beloved New York but also from America.

  “Can you tell me a bit about him?”

  Ernie thought about last night and her being outside Thanos` house. She knew more than she was willing to tell him. Fine, he thought to himself, if its mind games she wants to play. “Not here. There’s a coffee shop not far from here. The coffee’s not brilliant but it's not bad either.”

  “Another time, maybe Inspector. I’ve got a lot to do today.”

  Ernie escorted her back to her car. He handed her a card with his contact details on it. “Call me if you feel like talking,” he said and watched her drive off. He had a feeling that he would be seeing her again or at least he hoped he would be.

  Chapter 12

  Thanos held out the photo between his thumb and finger and waved it about two feet from her face. “Well,” he demanded again, “Who is she, slut?” the contempt in his voice was barely masked by his anger.

  They were standing in the kitchen of Anja Madinsky rather luxurious apartment provided for her by Thanos. It was solely a business arrangement and she knew that the moment that she stopped earning him enough money she would be out and the next girl would replace her. This was not only her home but also her place of work where she would entertain clients. Clients that paid her, or rather Thanos, large sums of money for her services.

  She flinched as he moved his hand in expectation of a blow that, fortunately for her, never came this time! “Honest, Mr. Thanos, I told you truthfully I don’t know,” the Russian beauty’s dark, wide eyes flicked from Thanos to Morton. She knew who frightened her more.

  He moved the photograph from her face. ”Francesca? Ring any bells?” he demanded menacingly, “Francesca? HAVE YOU HEARD OF HER?” their faces were now so close together that she got sprayed by the spittle from his mouth. At the mention of the name her scared, unblinking eyes locked with Thanos`s and he realised at once that she recognized the name if not the face. “Who is she? You know her, slut?”

  She thought fast. It was either tell the truth or be left alone with Morton and that was not an experience she wanted repeated. She had been punished by him once before when she had been caught working privately. It had taken her weeks to recover. “Where is Andy?” she asked quietly almost hoping that he would not hear but at the same time she needed to know.

  “JUST ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION!” shouted Thanos as his temper flared. He grabbed the thick hair on the side of her head and yanked her closer to him so that their faces now almost touching. “WHO THE FUCK IS SHE?” he bellowed.

  She tried to pull away from him but he twisted her long, thick hair around his chubby fingers and pulled downwards tilting her head to one side. Tears streamed from her eyes a mixture of fear and sadness, “I don’t know! I think it’s his sister!”

  The shock on his face was unmistakable. Sister, he thought, sister, he didn’t have a sister. He had no family! Frustrated and angry and not knowing whether to believe her he smashed a barrage of quick, vicious punches down onto the side of her unprotected head.

  Unable to defend herself from the hammer-like blows she started to fall semi-consciousness to the floor. Letting go of her hair he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall. The sickening thud as the back of her head made contact with the wall was enough to complete her slide into unconsciousness helped by the next cowardly blow delivered again to the side of her head hastening Anja`s fall to the ground. His nostrils flaring and breathing heavily he followed up by kneeing her in the same side of her head as she slid down the wall to the floor.

  Morton despised cowards. They were the reason he had turned out as he was. It was because of the cowards and bullies in the orphanage that he had first got into violence. It was a necessity if you wanted to survive and live under you
r own rules. It was a case of kick arse or lick it and he decided after a particularly severe beating from three older boys that he would never let anyone hurt him again. Being a large lad for his age, even then, he soon learned how to look after himself and by the age of fourteen he was the dominant boy in the orphanage. It was then that his life changed. He knew that some of the girls in the orphanage where willing to exchange sexual favours for cash but it was after one young girl got beat up by a punter in a pub car park that he saw his opportunity and offered to protect her for a cut of her takings. And so began his life of crime.

  He felt a cold churning sensation in his stomach as he watched. He stepped forward quickly and grabbed Thanos by his jacket collar and violently yanked him backwards saving the girl from further unnecessary punishment.

  Furious at his lieutenant his temper boiled over. His wild, unblinking eyes stood out like two orbs against his now blood red face as spittle seeped from the right side of his mouth. He swung a wild punch in Morton’s direction which, more by luck than judgment, caught his lieutenant on the left cheek.

  It was a mistake that he was not going to forget. Morton’s reactions, honed from years of violence and self preservation were automatic. Without thinking his huge left hand balled into a fist and swung upwards in a vicious uppercut which caught Thanos in his soft, flabby stomach causing him to fall forwards winded as the next punch was delivered automatically. It was a short right-handed punch that had almost all of Morton's weight behind it catching him on the side of the head above his ear. He was unconscious before he joined Anja on the floor.

  Morton checked himself just in time as he was about to deliver yet another blow. He looked with contempt at the man on the floor. Stepping back he took some deep breaths to help clear his head before dragging Thanos into the living room and dumping him at one end of the sofa. He returned to the kitchen for the girl and carried her in placing her gently at the opposite end of the sofa.

  Thanos was beginning to come to. He looked around through bleary, unfocused eyes as his foggy mind processed what had happened. He tried to stand on his unsteady legs but fell back onto the security of the soft sofa. He held his head gently feeling the lump where Morton had just hit him.

  The girl stirred beside him and he turned his head to look at her. “If you ever fucking touch me again”

  “You’ll what?” growled Morton standing in front of him. He felt no regret at hitting Thanos just contempt for the coward. “You forget who you're talking to! You ain`t got the balls!”

  Thanos felt the change in their relationship. For the first time in their long friendship he felt threatened in Morton's presence. It was an uncomfortable feeling more importantly it was worrying. Could he no longer trust his old partner?

  “You’ve already fucked up once!” the blame was evident in Morton's tone, “She’s no good to us if she can’t talk.” he finished.

  As his head cleared he was able to think clearly again albeit a bit slower. Keeping a wary eye on Morton he turned his attention to the girl, “Sister. You said he had a sister. Where is she?” his voice sounded soft even to himself. Soft and weak.

  She told them in a haltering voice what she knew which was not much. She told them about Francesca and about the solicitor he was using to, hopefully, legitimise her stay in Britain.

  The mention of a solicitor Thanos got nervous. If he was trying to get this whore a permanent visa for this country was it possible that he was willing to sell him out to the authorities by providing them with information about his extra business activities. He knew that men in love would think with their penises and not their heads but then Richards had been a loyal servant for many years.

  He wondered what it was she saw in him. They say opposites attract but these two were at either ends of the spectrum; she was a young, dark haired beauty who men were paying a fortune to sleep with and he was a stereotype dork; tall, lanky, a social misfit and no real future prospects and old enough to be her father. The answer had to be an English passport. It had to be or why else would such a gorgeous girl like her be interested in him. Marrying an Englishman was her legal way into the country. She was not in love she was doing what all whores do and was selling herself for a price!

  He paced the room slowly on unsteady legs. It was not just the physical impact of the punch that had shaken him it was the stark reality that his trusted friend had actually hit him! He was trying to concentrate on what he should do next but found he kept getting distracted by Morton's presence. The same question kept buzzing round and round in his mind - could he trust him?

  They had faced tight situations before but nothing ever as serious as this. Would his right-hand man stand by him and see this through or would he, too, sell him out? He looked at Morton and for the first time saw an old man. Even though he was only in his late forties he was, maybe, just getting a bit too old for his chosen line of work. But first things first, he thought, “What’s the solicitor’s name?” his voice sounded thick and distant even to himself.

  “Tyner,” her voice was faint and quivering. She sounded as weak as she felt. Her head was pounding terribly and the vision in her left eye was still slightly blurry. Frightened as she was of Thanos she was even more terrified of Morton. She knew what he could do although she had no idea that he was her rescuer. “She’s a woman,” she volunteered this information although she did not know why.

  He stopped pacing, “You,” he did not look at Morton as he addressed him, his voice, though, was quieter than it would normally have been and lacked the authority and disdain with which he normally spoke down to people in, ordinarily he would never have spoken to him like this but he thought that it was important that he showed a brave face. He was, after all, the boss, “Think you can check out this sister? See what she knows.” Morton's cold eyes bore into him as he wondered for the first time just how far could he trust Thanos. He, too, could feel it. “Now!” Thanos muttered impatiently. He really did not want Morton around at the moment. What good was a lieutenant that you could not trust nor had any respect for you?

  ******

  Morton sat outside the expensive gated apartment complex deep in thought. He was not too worried about how he was going to gain access to her apartment. In his experience there was always a way in no matter how good the security was. He was concentrating on Thanos and realised that, maybe, today had been the breaking point in their working relationship. He had never one hundred percent trusted him and now he wondered just how Thanos would react after this afternoon. Over the years he had deliberately avoided any social gatherings that Thanos had invited him too preferring to keep their relationship strictly business. The question was how would Thanos deal with it? Take it like a man and move on or like the sly snake he knew him to be!

  Morton had brought his own man with him. Billy Roberts - his particular speciality was burglary when he was not working as a cab driver. They sat outside the expensive gated apartment complex. Morton looked at the high walls topped with security cameras that surrounded the place. He knew that this type of place would be fairly well protected. The rich or those that liked to think they were, lived under the impression that high walls, security cameras and patrolling guards set them apart from the rest of the populace that surrounded them.

  It looked like the only way in was through the main gate. He knew that somewhere there would be an emergency exit out of the property but that, too, would be electronically watched.

  “Looks like there’s no way in here,” said Roberts.

  Morton pursed his lips, “Wait here.” He left the car and approached the barrier. After a few words via a wall-mounted intercom a black iron gate swung open and he disappeared into the small, box-shaped guard’s room built inside the wall. Roberts could see him chatting to the guard inside, a bored old man in his late fifties, who was only too pleased for the distraction. He was only too welcome for anything to break up the monotony of his brain-numbing job. It gave Morton the chance to look around and a few minutes later he r
e-emerged clutching a piece of paper.

  “What’s that?” asked Roberts nodding at the slip of paper as soon as he got into the car.

  “My entrance ticket.” He offered no more information and Roberts knew better than to ask. If anyone knew of any empty apartments for sale then it would be the security guards.

  He dialed the estate agents number on the piece of paper and, using a fictitious name, arranged to meet the agent dealing with the property later that day.

  Thanos needed a ride. He never drove himself anywhere on business preferring to use one of his drivers as a chauffeur. Today, he chose Grimshawe but there was an alternative reason. Finding her address in the telephone directory had been easy and they drove over to her office in silence with Thanos deep in troubled thought.

  They sat outside the office of C.Tyner in almost exactly the same place that the BMW of Francesca Bianchi had the previous day and waited. Patience, though, was a human quality that had eluded Thanos.

  “How do you find working with Morton?” he suddenly asked the bored Grimshawe.

  Grimshawe was taken by surprise at the question not quiet sure how he should reply. “He’s okay,” he said cagily, “sometimes though,” he deliberately left it at that knowing that Thanos would want to know more.

  “Sometimes what?” demanded Thanos sharper than he intended.

  Grimshawe realised that this was his chance. It was not often that he got the opportunity to drive the boss around that was usually a job for the infamous Morton. “Well, it’s not really for me to say!” he left it at that.

  Thanos nodded his head slightly pretending he understood the young mans dilemma. Stay loyal to a co-worker or squeal to the boss. “If there’s anything I should know about. . . You know, running a business isn’t just about paying wages, in order to keep everyone happy the man at the top also needs to know what’s happening on the shop floor, if you know what I mean, if his employees are happy, that sort of thing.” He spoke softly and paused momentarily basking in the sound of his own importance, “Management is all about trust and trust is earned,” he paused again knowing that the young upstart was lapping all this up, “and management does not forget a faithful employee. Its how we get up the corporate ladder.” Even though his face remained unchanged inside he was smiling as he knew he had him hooked. Grimshawe was young, ambitious and, most of all, he wanted to be number one. When he and Morton had first got together Morton was already his own man and had his own way of doing things. This was possibly his chance to get his own puppet, someone who would carry out his orders explicitly without questions and, more important, respect and fear him as the boss.