by Bill Ward
“What the fuck,” Victor reacted to the site of the weapon.
“Sit down, Victor,” Powell instructed, pointing towards the sole chair positioned behind the desk.
Victor didn’t move at first. “You are both going to regret this,” he threatened. “Especially you Afina. I’m going to enjoy giving you one hundred strokes of my cane. Do you have any idea what…?”
“Shut the fuck up, Victor and sit down,” Powell interrupted. He waved the gun towards the chair.
Afina was hanging back behind Powell. “What do we do next?” she asked. She had been as shocked as Victor to see the gun in Powell’s hand.
“Ten minutes isn’t much time to come up with a plan.” Powell replied. “You did the right thing bringing him here though.”
“Stefan will be expecting us back,” Afina said, obviously worried.
“You are both dead,” Victor laughed. “You can’t hold me here for ever. And if you run I will find you.”
“I think you’re probably right, Victor. So you don’t leave me with much choice.”
“You aren’t going to shoot me,” Victor said confidently. “Shooting someone is much easier in the movies than real life.”
“That’s true but I’ve shot more than my share of people in the past.”
Victor looked surprised by Powell’s revelation. “You were in the army?” he asked.
“Let’s just say I worked for the government.”
Victor started to look uncomfortable.
“Victor is good friends with Dimitry,” Afina interjected.
“Is that so?” Powell asked.
“I have known Dimitry a long time. Yes, we are friends.”
“Did you see the name of this bar when you entered?” Powell asked.
“The name. No I didn’t see the bloody name.”
“It’s called Bella’s after my daughter. She was a young police officer out one night with a colleague when she came across your friend.”
It took Victor a few seconds to understand what he was hearing then all the blood drained from his face. “I had nothing to do with what happened to your daughter. It was that stupid bitch’s fault.” He pointed accusingly at Afina.
“No Victor, it wasn’t Afina’s fault. She wasn’t the one organising human trafficking. I hold Dimitry, Stefan and now you, responsible for my daughter’s death, so understand I will have no compunction about shooting you if necessary.”
“It was nothing to do with me. I would not be so stupid as to kill a police officer.”
“Perhaps not but you are still guilty by association. Now put your phone on the floor and slide it towards me,” Powell instructed.
Victor silently did as asked. His eyes were fixed on Afina.
“What are you looking at?” Afina asked, becoming unnerved by Victor’s stare.”
“Don’t let him get to you,” Powell cautioned. “He won’t ever hurt you again.”
Powell checked the contacts in Victor’s phone and satisfied it contained a number for Dimitry, he put the phone inside his back pocket. He wasn’t sure what to do with Victor but knew he had to make him disappear. Killing him in cold blood wasn’t an option. It had been a long time since he would consider such an action even remotely morally acceptable.
He could think of only one short term solution. The bar had a secure basement and an even securer cellar area within the basement, where the expensive champagnes and vintage spirits were kept permanently locked. It was known to the staff as Aladdin’s cave.
“We are going downstairs,” Powell announced. “If you behave yourself, your life is not in imminent danger but if you ty to make a run for it, I will be left with no option but to shoot you.”
Victor offered no response other than a glare. He didn’t look happy but realised he had few options.
Powell made Victor walk ahead of him as they left the office, turned a corner and took the steps down to the basement. They were hidden from the view of customers but not staff so Powell was happy they didn’t bump into anyone, it might prove difficult to answer questions about why the owner was wielding a gun.
Once down the stairs, Powell pushed Victor towards one end of the basement where the cage like feature protected the valuable drinks. He removed the key from his pocket and kept his distance from Victor as he ushered him inside.
“I shall be just upstairs and if I hear any noise from you I will have to take steps to silence you,” Powell warned. “I’ll even feed you later if you behave yourself.”
“You can’t keep me here for ever,” Victor warned.
“True but if I was you I’d behave as the minute you start making a nuisance of yourself, I will start rethinking whether you are worth keeping alive.”
Returning upstairs Powell locked the basement door. He went and found Neil and told him the basement was out of use for the rest of the evening. He looked surprised but knew trips to the expensive cellar were relatively rare so it was only a small inconvenience at worst.
Powell took Afina back to his office. “Afina, you can’t go back to Stefan. I am going to have to make Victor disappear for some time and Stefan knows you left with Victor, so if you go back alone he will be deeply suspicious. It’s too dangerous.”
“What will you do with Victor?”
“I’m not sure. At some point he has to be set free and he is then going to be like a wounded Bull looking for revenge against all of us. I don’t have the answer at the moment.”
“If I’m not to go back, where can I stay?”
“I have an apartment upstairs you can use.”
“I’m not sure.”
“It will be your own apartment. I have a house nearby where I stay. The apartment was Bella’s place for the last couple of years and it’s probably a bit of a mess.”
“I don’t have much money.”
“If you want a job we always need waitresses and bar staff.”
Afina smiled broadly, “I came to England to work in a bar, now I have a proper job at last.”
“I think it best you don’t go out much for the time being. I need to decide what to do with Victor and tomorrow I‘m going to see Stefan and push him for me to meet his contact in Romania. I’m hoping that will be Dimitry.”
“What about my mama and Adriana? When I don’t go back they will be in danger.”
“Can they go stay with some family temporarily?”
“I have an aunt but her apartment is not very big. They can’t stay long.”
“I just need to buy some time while I decide what we do next. Would your mother and sister like to visit England perhaps? There is enough room upstairs for them.”
“Mama doesn’t speak English. And what reason am I going to give her for having to leave?”
“The truth. You witnessed a murder and though you are safe, you’re worried for them.”
“I will call mama and see what she says.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Powell called Stefan and informed him he had transferred the fifty thousand pounds. He then asked to see Afina. Not surprisingly, Stefan said she was unavailable as she had gone away for a few days. Stefan suggested he see Mara and Powell said he would if Afina didn’t return within a few days. Powell then arranged to meet Stefan a couple of hours later.
“Afina didn’t mention she was going away,” Powell said, when he arrived at Stefan’s.
“It was a sudden decision. Her mother was taken ill.”
Powell smiled inwardly because he knew Afina’s mother was perfectly well and on an aeroplane to England. “I have been speaking with my investors and they feel I should make a trip to Romania to meet your contacts out there. After all, we have now given you a lot of money and if something was to happen to you, I would have no idea who to speak to or anything.”
“That makes sense. When were you thinking of going?”
“Sooner the better really. I have nothing stopping me being on a plane tomorrow. Would you come with me or should I just meet someone over there?�
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“I can’t really get away at the moment but I can arrange for my business partner to meet you and show you around a little, answer your questions and maybe introduce you to some of our nice Romanian girls.”
“That would be great.” At the mention of meeting Stefan’s business partner, Powell was very hopeful it would be Dimitry.
“There is a flight from Gatwick tomorrow afternoon with Easyjet, which I sometimes take when I want a weekend back home. It arrives about nine in the evening so I can arrange for you to be met and taken to a nice hotel. Then my partner can pick you up about ten thirty and show you our night life.”
“Sounds good. I’ll book the flight and text you to confirm when it’s done. What’s your partner’s name?”
“Victor.”
Powell was a little taken aback by the name he least expected to hear. Victor was still in the cage back at the bar nursing a very bad hangover. Powell had taken him some food the previous evening and found him three quarters of the way through an expensive bottle of brandy. Victor’s sorrows were well and truly drowned. Powell had thought it a small price to pay for the lack of trouble he was getting from Victor. Even so, he knew he couldn’t keep him locked up in his basement for much longer. He had threatened him that if he drank more than one bottle per day he would break every finger on one hand the first time he did it and if he did it again he wouldn’t be lifting any glass unaided for a very long time.
Powell doubted Stefan had two close associates called Victor so he wasn’t sure how to interpret Stefan’s choice of name. Perhaps it was Dimitry but Stefan thought it safer to use a different name. Anyway, in thirty six hours he would know the answer.
“Stefan, I think I am going to enjoy working with you. You seem to know how to look after your business partners, plenty of girls and some fun alongside the business. Definitely a recipe for success!”
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to see Mara? She is free right now and it would be on the house.”
“Not this time. I’d better get back and book my ticket. Next week if Afina isn’t back, then I’ll be paying Mara a visit.”
“Good. I will call Victor and organise your visit.”
Once back at the bar Powell booked the flight and then a quick check on Victor revealed he was feeling better after a late brunch and plenty of coffee. Powell had given him a couple of newspapers to read and told him he would be allowed to leave the next day. Victor looked a bit dubious but Powell had lied, telling him he had only been holding onto him long enough for Afina and her family to escape the country. In truth, Powell had to move him before the staff asked any more awkward questions. He was also getting fed up of managing the regular visits to the bathroom, which were required as he didn’t fancy a mess in his cellar.
Powell bundled Afina into his car and headed for Gatwick to collect her mother and sister. He didn’t like leaving Victor unattended but Afina had begged him to accompany her to Gatwick. The round trip would be less than two hours and with Victor locked in the drinks cellar, inside the locked basement, he thought everything should be okay.
The plane was on time and Powell enjoyed seeing the family reunion as Afina greeted her mother and sister. It was a warm moment in what had otherwise been a very bleak couple of weeks. Afina introduced Powell in obviously glowing terms. Though he couldn’t understand a word that was said, the crushing embrace from Afina’s mother and the look in her eyes said everything.
Once back at the bar, Powell left the family to settle in to the upstairs apartment. He had finally decided what to do with Victor. It would involve asking Brian for an enormous favour but they had done something similar in their younger days. Of course, that had been sanctioned by the government and this was a completely different situation but Brian owed him and it was time to collect.
Brian answered immediately and brief pleasantries out of the way, Powell came straight to the point. “I need your help with something important.”
“It sounds serious. What do you need?”
“Remember Jimmy Govern?”
“That scumbag enforcer we had put away for self-harming? Of course I do, it was one of our cleverer ideas.”
“I need something similar.”
“Powell, you have to be joking.”
“I’m deadly serious. Right now I have someone locked in my basement who isn’t dissimilar to Govern. I need him held out of the way for at least two weeks.”
“Powell, these are different times. Who is this guy?”
“He’s a very nasty Romanian gangster. If I let him go we’ll never find Dimitry.”
There was silence for a few seconds at the other end of the phone.
“Okay,” Brian finally said. “We have a secure unit near Portsmouth. If we have him admitted for attempted suicide with an ongoing risk of self-harm, we can probably keep him locked up in isolation for at least a couple of weeks. Like with Jimmy Govern, he needs to be delivered sedated and pretty much out of it. When we eventually let him go he’ll have a medical history that says he attempted suicide and is delusional. He will also have a warning that should he make any wild claims, it will be taken as further proof of his delusional behaviour and he’ll be locked up again.”
“I owe you for this, Brian.”
“Please don’t ask for anything else. I’ll send a car to collect him. Say about eight tonight?”
“Perfect. I’ll have him ready and compliable. His name is Victor but I don’t know his surname. If you run a check on him it’s possible he’ll be wanted for crimes either here or back home.”
“I’ll have him checked out. We need to talk soon about what you’re up to.”
“Agreed but I’m out of the country for a few days. We’ll talk when I get back.”
“Romania by any chance?”
“I’m following a lead which I hope will take me to Dimitry. Actually I need one further favour. ”
“Blimey, Powell. It might be a good thing you haven’t been around the last twenty years, I have a feeling I might not have had such a glittering career, continually helping you out. Go on, what do you need?”
Powell proceeded to explain the assistance he was going to need.
“Good luck and keep in touch,” Brian said, after agreeing to provide Powell with what he needed and hastily ending the call before his friend came up with any further requests, which would put his pension at risk.
Running a popular bar in the Brighton area meant Powell had more than once had to keep a close eye on someone he thought might be dealing in drugs and evicted them from the premises. He didn’t want Bella brought up around drugs or his bar getting a reputation as a place where drugs were easily available. However, he did know one person he had suspicions about but had never actually seen him sell anything. His name was Scott something and Powell knew he was known to a couple of the bar staff. He was lucky that Dave, who worked behind the bar most nights had his phone number. A quick phone call and an arrangement was made.
Powell collected what he wanted two hours later. Scott hadn’t had what he specifically wanted but had known where to get some. Powell returned with his purchase and included a liberal amount in some coffee he took down to Victor along with a sandwich.
It took only thirty minutes for the sedative to take effect and he knew the effects would last for about four or five hours. Victor was acting not much differently to the previous night when he was blind drunk but this time he hadn’t had any alcohol. He was unsteady on his feet and Powell had to help support him, which meant putting his weapon away in his jacket. Fortunately, Victor was in such a state he obligingly staggered out to the waiting car just on the promise he was going home. Two men jumped out the car and helped Powell bundle Victor in the back seat, where he immediately laid down. A minute later the car was speeding away and Powell hurried back inside to plan with Afina what they were going to do next.
The thought of Victor waking up to find himself in a secure hospital made Powell smile broadly. Victor would probably no
t make a great patient. In fact, he’d be screaming blue murder once he was conscious but it wouldn’t do him any good. If he made too much noise they would simply sedate him again.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Powell had given Afina strict instructions not to go out and certainly not allow her mother or Adriana out until he returned. They had a natural curiosity to visit the town but Powell had been firm, it was too dangerous. He would be away for just the weekend and they could stay inside. He promised he would then take them to London sightseeing as soon as it was safe.
The flight was uneventful and he showed the passport describing him as Danny Jones, a relic of time spent undercover more than twenty years ago when a second identity had been a necessity. He was glad he’d renewed the passport despite no obvious need for it over the last few years. As he emerged from customs at Bucharest airport, he saw the man waiting for him holding the sign saying Danny. Powell knew immediately it wasn’t Dimitry. This man was rounder than he was tall and waddled rather than walked. Powell immediately assumed he was just a driver sent to collect him and take him to his hotel. Dimitry wouldn’t take the risk of coming in person and possibly being identified by a vigilant local policeman.
As it turned out, Powell was correct in his assessment and the man he was due to meet, who went by the name of Victor, had indeed arranged for him to be collected and taken to a hotel in the city centre, with the deserving name of Grand Hotel. Deserving because the hotel was truly luxurious and adorned with antiques and beautiful works of art that wouldn’t look out of place in a Palace. It certainly wasn’t the type of hotel Powell regularly frequented.