by Bill Ward
Powell had been told by the driver to be in reception at ten thirty and was duly waiting downstairs when in walked a further stranger.
“Danny?” the stranger asked.
“That’s me.” Powell hid his disappointment that this man wasn’t Dimitry.
“I am Bogdan. Come with me.”
Obviously a man of few words. Powell followed the man outside to a large, shiny looking Mercedes and began to reassess whether his first assessment this was a grunt not someone more important was correct. They drove for about ten minutes without conversation and pulled into a side street in an old part of town. There had been a large number of busy bars and clubs on the main road, which suggested it could be the centre of Bucharest’s nightlife.
The driver led the way, striding out quickly without saying anything further, obviously expecting Powell to follow. He turned back onto the main road, which was a wide Boulevard busy with people despite the late hour and after a short distance they arrived at a café come bar. Powell followed the man inside, who nodded in recognition at a large man blocking the top of some stairs leading downwards and he stood aside, letting them pass. At the bottom of the stairs was a small and intimate club with a dance floor area, where two attractive young girls were doing a strip show. Other girls were performing lap dances for customers in small booths. Music was playing and there was a bar running down one side of the room.
A group of three men were sitting in a semi-circular booth around a table containing drinks. They looked up as Powell approached. He had no doubt the man in the middle was Dimitry and he felt an immediate, immense desire to take him by the throat and crush the life from him. This was the man who stabbed Bella and ended her life just when it should have been beginning. Powell fought with his emotions not wishing to reveal his true feelings and contented himself with the thought that now he had found Dimitry, he would soon claim justice for her death. The problem was that wasn’t actually enough to bring him much comfort, nothing would ever heal the feeling of loss.
“You must be Danny,” Dimitry said with a welcoming smile.
“Are you Victor?” Powell asked.
“No, I am Dimitry. Victor couldn’t be here but don’t worry I am also the business partner of Victor and Stefan.”
“Nice place you have here,” Powell said, sitting beside Dimitry as space was made for him.
“Not bad,” Dimitry agreed. “Would you like a drink?”
“A beer would be good.”
“We can’t drink beer!” Dimitry raised his hand and immediately a girl appeared to take their order. “A bottle of the good champagne and a bottle of Tuica.”
“So Danny, you are our new business partner. We will find you some good girls. It shouldn’t be too difficult, we have many nice girls in Romania who want to travel to England. We will find you some to try out before you leave.”
“I’m sure Stefan has told you I have specific requirements.”
“Not a problem, you want girls like Afina when she first arrived in England. Stefan tells me you have been fucking her.”
“Yes I like Afina. I guess when she first came to England she was the type of young rather innocent girl I am looking for. She is not so innocent now.”
“That is partly my fault. I had to teach her what it is to be fucked by a real man not some boy.”
The drinks arrived and the waitress poured a glass of champagne and a shot of the Tuica.
“Tuica is a bit like vodka,” Dimitry explained. “But made from plums, stronger and is our national drink.” He raised his glass in a toast, “To new partners.”
Powell noticed the others all downed the shot in one so he did likewise. Owning a bar for ten years he had tried most drinks but this really burned and made him wince. “That certainly has a kick,” he confirmed.
Dimitry laughed and refilled the glasses. He raised his glass in a further toast, “To girls.”
Once again Powell downed the drink in one. “My turn for a toast,” he said, as the glasses were refilled. “Here’s to a long life and a merry one, a quick death and an easy one, a pretty girl and a true one, a drink called Tuica and another one.” The third drink tasted a great deal smoother than the first one.
“A great toast, Danny. I can see you like our drink.”
“I do but I’ll stick to champagne now, if you don’t mind, otherwise you’ll be carrying me out of here.”
Dimitry raised his hand and waved at a couple of girls standing at the bar. “This is Danny,” he said when they walked over. “He is visiting us for the first time. Take him in a booth and give him one of our special private dances.”
One of the girls held out her hand and Powell took hold of it and followed the two girls to a booth with a curtain in front. He felt it would have been rude to refuse Dimitry’s hospitality. Once behind the curtain he was seated and the girls started seductively dancing in front of him as they removed their clothes. One was blonde and the other brunette. Both were beautiful and it was no hardship to watch them or let them start to give him a very intimate lap dance. One of the girls had her breasts in his face and he couldn’t see what the other was doing but he felt his belt undone and her pulling on the zip to his jeans.
“Hold on,” he said, pulling his zip back up and sitting up straighter in the chair. “The dance is enough, thank you.”
The girls looked concerned. “Don’t you like us?” the blonde asked in good English.
“I think you’re both amazing but a dance is enough,” he reiterated.
“But Dimitry said to give you the special private dance. That means a blowjob as well.”
“And I’m sure you both give great blowjobs but I’m not in the mood. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Dimitry you were both excellent.”
The girls seemed happier and relaxed. “I’m Daniela,” the blonde introduced herself. “And this is Nicola.”
Both girls kissed him on the cheek, which Powell found faintly amusing as they were both completely naked and only just introducing themselves.
“Can I get you girls a drink?” Powell asked.
“Not sure,” Daniela answered. “Ask Dimitry. He owns the place and we work for him. We can join you at your table if he wants.”
“I’ll do exactly that,” Powell answered and strode back to the table where Dimitry was sitting.
“You were quick,” Dimitry laughed.
“Can the girls join us?” Powell asked.
“Sure.” He beckoned to the girls to come over. “Get some more glasses and another bottle of champagne.”
“Thank you, Dimitry. You have a great club. And of course, great girls!”
“What did I tell you? We have beautiful girls in Romania.”
The girls returned carrying champagne and glasses. They squeezed either side of Powell.
“I have to be going now,” Dimitry announced. “The girls are my gift for the evening so enjoy them and the drinks are on me. Order some more champagne or whatever you wish. I think you may have a sore head in the morning so I will see you in reception at eleven.”
Powell shook hands and watched Dimitry and his friends leave. As he sat back down the girls were both smiling excitedly.
“You must be important,” Nicola said.
“Not really.”
“Dimitry just gave you both of us for the night. Do you know how much that costs?” Daniela asked.
“No doubt a huge amount of money but for now let’s try and drink as much of his expensive champagne as possible.”
The two Englishmen at the nearby table had been getting louder the more they drank and were suddenly shouting at the girl who had brought them their bill, complaining they had been overcharged. They both had south London accents.
“I know we’re tourists but we’re not bloody stupid,” the older of the two men was saying in a decidedly slurred manner, testimony to the amount he had drunk.
“Sir, the bill lists everything you drank.”
“It’s not the number of drinks I’m disputi
ng, it’s the bloody price of the drinks. Three hundred pounds for a cheap bottle of champagne is ridiculous.”
“The price includes the entertainment.”
“Well we’re not paying,” the younger man said, who had so far remained silent. “It’s taking the piss to call what you offer, entertainment! I’ve seen better in my local pub.”
Powell noticed the girl look in the direction of the bar in an obvious request for some help. The man behind the bar picked up his phone and said something brief.
One minute later two large men, obviously the equivalent of English bouncers, walked down the stairs and towards the two men.
“Time to pay your bill and be on your way,” the first bouncer, who had a goatee beard said, in surprisingly good English. “We don’t want any trouble.”
“Trouble, don’t take the piss you oversized fairy. Get the fuck out of here,” the older drunk replied.
“You have ten seconds to provide a credit card to pay your bill or you are going to wake up in hospital,” goatee threatened.
“Okay, okay,” the older drunk said, staggering to his feet. “No need to get nasty.” He reached into his inside pocket to withdraw his wallet but instead there was suddenly a gun in his hand.
Both the bouncers took a quick backward step. The second drunk suddenly seemed much more sober as he also took a gun from inside his jacket.
“So now who is going to end up in hospital tomorrow?” the younger drunk asked.
The unarmed bouncers looked worried. “Just leave,” the goatee said.
“What, without paying our bill?” the older drunk asked with heavy sarcasm. “What sort of people do you think we are?”
The young drunk seemed to notice Powell for the first time. “How come you get two beautiful ladies?” he asked. He addressed the girls, “Why don’t you come and sit with us and we’ll order some more champagne.”
“They’re with me,” Powell said simply.
“You English?” the older drunk asked.
“Yes.”
“If you know what’s good for you, I’d get out of here,” the older drunk threatened, waving his gun at Powell.
“I think you’re probably right. I have an early start in the morning.” Powell stood up. “It’s been fun,” he said to the girls and made to leave.
“They’re all yours,” Powell said to the drunks as he came level.
He moved so fast it was over before anyone understood it had started. He grabbed the wrist of the young drunk, who happened to be nearest, and twisted, at the same time forcing the man’s arm back in a move that made it easy to ease the gun from the man’s hand. He released the man’s arm, pushing him aside in the same instant and kicking his legs away so he fell to the floor. Before anyone knew what had happened, Powell was suddenly pointing the gun at the older drunk, who had a look of disbelief on his face.
“Drop the gun,” Powell ordered calmly.
The man was indecisive for about five seconds and then placed his gun on the table in front of him. “Look, we were just having a bit of fun,” he said. “We weren’t really going to hurt anyone.”
“You should be careful where you choose to play with those things,” Powell warned. “I could have simply shot you when I disarmed your jerk friend.”
The second drunk was lying on the floor, watching proceedings. He managed to get up by holding on to a chair.
“Now give the nice girl your credit card and you can be on your way,” Powell said. The older drunk hurriedly withdrew his wallet and handed a card to the waitress.
“They’re just drunk,” Powell said to the two bouncers, who looked ready to cause trouble. “I apologise on behalf of my countrymen. They probably drank too much of your Tuica.” He gave his friendliest smile. “That stuff’s got a real kick!”
The girl took only a minute to insert the credit card in the machine she had been holding and then she handed it to the man to enter his pin number. “I added a generous tip,” she said with a smile.
The man grudgingly entered his number and returned the machine to the waitress.
Once the girl had returned the credit card receipt, Powell said, “Let’s go,” indicating the stairs.
The bouncers stood back and Powell followed the drunks upstairs. He lowered the gun and put it in his trouser pocket to avoid attention from the other customers.
There were a couple of taxis waiting outside for business. The two men climbed into the first even as Powell was saying, “I’d get as far away from here as possible and don’t come back.”
He headed back downstairs and passed the two bouncers on the stairs. “Thank you for your help. I’m sure the boss will be very grateful,” goatee said.
“If you mean Dimitry, we are business partners in England so it was nothing. I was just helping a friend.”
“Thank you. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thanks.” Powell shook the offered hand and that of the other bouncer, then headed back to his table.
The girls were excitedly laughing when Powell sat down. “Sorry about the interruption,” he said. “What’s so funny?”
“The look on the face of the Englishman when you took the gun from his friend,” Daniela explained.
Powell reckoned the girls were also laughing out of a sense of relief they were no longer in any danger. “I think we need more champagne,” he said.
They spent another hour drinking champagne and appearing to get progressively merrier. At least that was how it would appear to anyone watching. However, he spent far more time filling the glasses of the girls with champagne rather than his own. Fortunately they seemed to have an unlimited capacity for consuming drink so several bottles were delivered to the table.
Powell imagined that someone left in the club would be watching him and giving a report to Dimitry, so he appeared drunker than he actually was and for most of the evening he kept up the pretence of wanting a threesum with both girls. It was an enjoyable evening and both girls gave him further very hot lap dances.
About one thirty he was feeling tired. “I need to get some sleep tonight,” Powell said. “And I fear if I take you back to my hotel room I won’t be getting any sleep so I’m going to call it a night and head back alone.” The idea of spending further time with them was very attractive but ultimately they were tainted by their association with Dimitry.
“But we won’t get paid if you don’t sleep with us,” Nicola complained.
Powell had forgotten they were with him to make money not any other reason. So they left together and took a taxi back to his hotel where he put them in further taxis back to where they lived. They had all agreed in the taxi to say they spent the night together but Powell had been very tired and fallen asleep after some very quick sex.
Powell went up to his room, inserted the card key and entered. He almost jumped out of his skin, when the two drunks from the club stepped out from behind the bathroom door.
“Christ,” Powell swore. “Where’d you two come from.”
“Sorry,” the older drunk said, now quite sober. “We were just hiding in case it was someone other than you.”
“Great job, guys,” Powell said. “That should cement my relationship with Dimitry. Give my thanks to Brian.”
“Our pleasure. Will you be needing anything else?” the older drunk asked.
“No, that’s more than enough, thanks. You better make yourselves scarce. I wouldn’t want you bumping into Dimitry or any of his crowd.”
“In that case, if you’re sure we’re not needed, we’ll be on the first plane back to England. Good luck with whatever it is you’re doing.”
“Thanks,” Powell said, shaking hands. “Enjoy your flight.”
Powell went to sleep a happy man. He had found Bella’s killer and so far the plan was working. He didn’t yet know exactly how he was going to get Dimitry back to England, which was still his ultimate aim, so he could be arrested and tried but he was confident he would find a way. He hoped t
he night’s events in the club would earn Dimitry’s complete trust, which in turn would afford him the opportunity to manipulate him into returning.
Powell had decided he didn’t want to involve the local Romanian police because he didn’t understand or trust the local legal system. If they put Dimitry on bail, he would undoubtedly disappear, perhaps never to be seen again.
His only fall-back plan if everything else went wrong was to eliminate Dimitry but that came with potentially significant risks to himself and ultimately also to Afina and her family, who he now felt a huge responsibility to protect.
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
Powell was in the hotel reception waiting for Dimitry at eleven. After a few minutes Bogdan appeared and once again led him out to the Mercedes. Dimitry was sitting in the back and there was a man Powell recognised from the previous evening sitting in the front.
“I hear you had an exciting evening,” Dimitry said, as Powell joined him in the back seat of the car.
“I guess you’re not just referring to the girls?” Powell asked with a smile.
“I heard some of your countrymen were causing trouble and you dealt with it very well.”
“Least I could do to help, considering how much of your champagne I was drinking.”
“Thank you, Danny. I am indebted to you.”
“My pleasure. So what’s the plan for this morning?”
“We take you to meet some girls we are planning to send to England in the near future. You can tell us if you think they are suitable. We will tell them you help us find the jobs in England.”
Powell was overcome with a terrible sense of foreboding. How could he meet these girls and not warn them they must not consider going to England. He wanted justice for Bella but she would never forgive him if he allowed other girls to be put in harm’s way in search of that justice. The fact he was even considering that option meant he was losing sight of what made Bella special. He could not put revenge and any personal satisfaction that might provide above what he knew would be Bella’s wishes. First and foremost he had to do what she had done, protect the innocent from Dimitry’s evil.
“Is it possible for me to have these girls if I like them?” Powell asked.