Donna didn’t answer.
‘I don’t think your old man would thank you for aggravating Christopher - in fact I know he wouldn’t. Neither would Stephen. He’s in Chrissy’s bad books as it is.’
‘Does my husband work with Christopher, in those flats, I mean?’
The woman shook her head and laughed. ‘Nah. Georgio is nothing to do with the flats, love. That’s between Christopher and Stephen.’ She saw Donna’s relief and smiled again. ‘Happy now?’
Donna didn’t answer.
‘Forget about tonight and the flats,’ the woman urged again. ‘Believe me when I say that I am giving you sound advice. Christopher Scott is not a man to cross.’
Feeling better now, Donna said pointedly. ‘How come you know so much about Christopher, Stephen and my husband?’
The redhead lit another cigarette with the butt of her old one. ‘Christopher is my son, love. I’m Violet Scott.’
She saw Donna’s eyes widen in shock and laughed. ‘I own The Heartbreaker. Christopher works from there, but it’s my club. I had five sons, and Chrissy is the eldest. I was a tom for years, didn’t know who any of their fathers were, but I ain’t telling you anything you wouldn’t hear around the West so don’t think this is a confessional. I’m well-known, love, very well-known. Now you look like a nice little body and I don’t want to see you get hurt. Ask Stephen about the flats, but don’t you ever come near or by me or my son again. I can’t be responsible for what he would do to you, OK?’
Donna stared at the woman, but didn’t answer.
Violet Scott sighed heavily. ‘You’re a foolish girl. There are certain people you just don’t cross, right, and my son’s one of them. Leave it. Just leave it.’
Standing up she left the café but Donna remained there, cold and tired and drinking coffee, as she tried to sort out exactly what she was going to do next.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Donna arrived home at four-fifteen in the morning, to find Dolly still awake and waiting up for her.
The older woman’s face was a picture of tragedy and Donna, remembering her cruel words earlier, felt shame wash over her. Dolly had always been there for her over the years, had been like a surrogate mother, and she had repaid her lately with harsh words and threats.
Dolly poured out a cup of coffee for her and then sat at the kitchen table.
‘What happened, love?’
Donna stared into the strained, lined face and felt the futility of it all mount up inside her. Swallowing back tears, she said, ‘I went to a club called The Black Dog. It was a peepshow place, full of dirty old men, prostitutes and transvestites, to name but a few. I wanted to see if there was any connection to Sri Lanka there, but I struck out. All I saw there was human degradation - the result of men’s needs, Dolly, not women’s. The only need the women there had was for money. Anyway, from there I moved on to a club called The Heartbreaker, where I was threatened by a large black man called Christopher Scott, and given coffee and more threats, nice ones, this time, from his mother, Violet.’
‘I know her, or should say I know of her. She ain’t a bad old stick really. It’s her sons who are the maniacs.’
‘Well, nice old stick or not, she warned me off, Dolly. There’s some flats in Wardour Street with Chinese kids in. I know it’s kids, I have a feeling on me that it is, you know. One thing I did find out from this woman is that Georgio has nothing to do with them anyway. The flats, I mean. It’s Stephen. It’s always bloody Stephen.’
Dolly bowed her head and sighed.
‘What really gets up my nose, Dolly, is the fact that Georgio is doing eighteen years and that prat is out and about in Sri Lanka. Probably setting up more little kids. Maybe he even gets his rocks off with them, I don’t know. But I can tell you this much. As soon as I can get a flight, I’m off out there to find out the truth for myself.’
‘You’re not seriously going over there?’ Dolly exclaimed, rattled.
Donna nodded vigorously. ‘I certainly am, Dolly. I am going to see just what the hell is going on over there, in this so-called Bay View Hotel, find out once and for all if Georgio is involved. I’ll tell you something else for free. If he is, I’ll see him rot in that place, with his brother beside him. Stephen the Wonderboy is about to get a surprise visit.’
Dolly stood up and said sternly, ‘You are not going out there alone. No way. Are you bloody stupid or something! ’
Donna laughed heavily. ‘Oh sit down, Dolly, for Christ’s sake. I have to go. Who else can do this, eh? Are you going to go? Big Paddy? Who else would do this except me?’ Her voice softened. ‘Don’t you understand, Doll, I have to go. I need to know exactly what’s going on and who the hell is behind it all.’
Tears in her eyes, Dolly said sadly, ‘You’re making a big mistake. Take this lot to the police, Donna, let them sort it out.’
‘I can’t, not yet.’
Dolly sat back down, her old bones protesting at being up all night. ‘What you mean is, you have to know if your man is involved?’
Donna looked into her eyes and nodded sadly. ‘I have to know one way or another, Dolly. I have to see for myself.’
Dolly was silent for a while and then she said, ‘I remember you when I first came to work here - a pretty, quiet little thing, madly in love with her husband and trying to be a good wife. You wouldn’t say boo to a goose. I saw you overcome your natural shyness to be a good hostess for Georgio, saw you grieve over your babies, saw you keep your head held high, saw you keep your self-respect. Lately, I wonder where that little girl has gone.’
Donna replied in a voice filled with pain, ‘That girl grew up, Dolly, the day her old man got eighteen years and she was forced to live in the real world. Shall I tell you something? If nothing else good comes out of all this trouble with Georgio, at least I grew up, Dolly. And not before time! Now I have to find out what’s going on. I have to know the score, and to do that I have to go out to Sri Lanka in person.’
‘And what if you find out something you don’t want to know? What if you find out something that’ll break your heart?’
Donna swallowed and said, ‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’
Dolly walked from the kitchen. Looking back from the doorway she said, ‘Well, I hope it keeps fine for you.’
Donna watched her walk away and felt the familiar lurch of fear in her chest.
She opened her bag and looked at the photo of Georgio she always kept with her; as her eyes travelled over his handsome features she told herself, over and over, that Stephen Brunos was behind everything . . . not her Georgio, who would soon be home with her. Then everything would be all right once more.
At Heathrow, Donna boarded the plane alone. She had bought the seat beside her as well to ensure she was not troubled with conversation on the flight. She was bone weary, tired and irritable. As she took her seat she placed a small briefcase on the seat beside her and settled herself for the long flight.
No matter what Dolly said or insinuated, Donna would never believe that Georgio was involved in anything to do with child pornography - even though common sense told her that Dolly not denying it was strange in itself. Dolly thought the sun shone out of Georgio Brunos, she always had. It was Maeve who had always harboured suspicions about her son. Maeve with whom Donna would never have discussed this present crisis. Because she would probably have agreed with Dolly.
A man sitting in the aisle seat opposite smiled at her briefly. Donna ignored him and looked out of the window once more. She sensed his discomfiture and found herself enjoying it. It was men who bought the filth she had seen displayed on her kitchen table. Without men, there would be no demand for it. You never heard of women buying child pornography.
The discs had been at the car lot, so that meant Davey at least knew something about it. Whether he knew the contents was a different matter. Computer porn was big business these days. It was what the newspapers were always shouting about. From what she had read over the last two days, there was no ac
tual legislation concerning it. It came down the phone line to be reproduced in stunning colour at the other end. Men could even use a mouse and change the look of the pictures. There had been a case in America where one man was sending the stuff to over thirty different countries.
Child porn was big money, because unlike Penthouse or Mayfair, you had to pay for its very illegality as well as the product. But it was hardly a furtive business any more, more of a worldwide market.
In her heart of hearts, Donna knew that this was the business for Stephen Brunos. Technology was his forte. Women were also his forte, whether for telephone sex or his escort agency. He would have no qualms about selling these children worldwide. Corrupting them, using them.
All she had to find out was whether or not her husband was a part of it. Find out for definite, because until she knew, she couldn’t even look him in the face again. The worst of it all was knowing that someone like Christopher Scott, a complete psychopath, was involved. But she would find out what was going on and then blow the whistle on it all, no matter who she brought down.
The plane taxied down the runway and Donna lay back in her seat, watching as it rose into the air and the lights of Heathrow spread out below her like fairy-lights on a Christmas tree.
Opening her briefcase, she took out the artist’s impression of the Bay View Hotel. It was drawn in beautiful living colour, making it look more like a photograph than a pencil drawing. The building had the most stunning façade: rounded windows, adorned with teak shutters; immense double doors leading into a foyer that held a fountain, surrounded by plush seating.
It really looked beautiful, and Donna was planning to base herself in one of the palatial rooms while she tried to find out what Stephen Brunos was doing there. The hotel was in Hikkadoa. Stephen would be using it as a blind. Taking their investment and tainting it as he did everything he touched.
Holding the picture to her breast, she pictured herself and Georgio lying in one of the larger bedrooms overlooking the sea. Both tanned and fit. Both enjoying the sea breezes and the easy life in Sri Lanka.
She remembered Georgio telling her it was stunning, the women incredibly beautiful and the island itself green and lush, with temples and elephants everywhere.
In her heart of hearts, she knew that Georgio might have been involved in the robbery, and she had accepted that. After meeting people he had mixed with, she acknowledged she would have to be a complete fool, not to accept it. But so far as the child pornography went, she wouldn’t believe her husband was involved in a million years. What was really worrying her was the fact that Stephen could have involved both her husband and herself without their knowledge. If he was using another subsidiary of Talkto . . . Christ Himself knew there were enough of them.
Her name as well as Georgio’s could well be on the filth she now carried in her bag.
Ricky was sitting in his cell reading the paper when Georgio tapped on his door.
‘All right, Ricky? Don’t tell me you can read and all?’
Ricky laughed loudly. ‘I can count as well, Georgio, when I have to. Now what can I do for you? You don’t come scratching on my door for a friendly chat.’
Georgio sat on the small plastic-backed chair and grinned. ‘I need a weapon, old son. I’m willing to pay for it.’
Ricky folded up his Guardian neatly and placed it on the bunk beside him.
‘What kind of weapon?’
‘Something dangerous. Something small, that can maim.’
Ricky relaxed back on his bunk his thick dreadlocks obscuring his face. Georgio saw the thirty-inch biceps and the flat stomach and shook his head. The man was huge.
‘What do you want it for? Or, more precisely, who do you want it for?’
‘That’s for me to know and you to find out, ain’t it? As long as it ain’t for you, what you worried about?’
Ricky smiled, displaying large white teeth. ‘Is it for Lewis?’
Georgio shook his head furiously. ‘No, it bleeding well ain’t for Donald. Me and him have come to an understanding—’
Ricky interrupted, ‘I know the chat on the Wing, boy. You have to pay him his money. Well, it occurred to me that maybe you don’t want to pay him. He’s weak, he’s not that well-protected really, is he? You could harm him now. He’s vulnerable.’
Georgio saw the light and laughed. ‘You black ponce! You want some, don’t you?’
Ricky uncurled a dreadlock slowly and removed a joint. He lit it with a silver Zippo. Taking a deep draw, he held the smoke in his lungs for a few moments before he spoke.
‘I’ll concede the black part, Georgio, but I ain’t a ponce.’ He laughed and passed the joint to Georgio who took it. ‘The thing is, I think you are up to something, and I would very much like to know what it is. Tell me your story, Greek boy, and maybe, just maybe, we can do a deal here.’
Georgio smoked the joint for a while before passing it back to Ricky. His brain was working overtime. Eventually, he said, ‘You must not repeat any of this. We’ll be in on it together, OK?’
Ricky nodded, leaning forward on his bunk to listen better.
‘You know the two blokes brought in the other week, Tweedledum and his mate. The Olds?’
Ricky nodded.
‘Well, they’re nonces. Not just perverts, but real honest-to-goodness nonces. They are part of that paedophile ring that got sent down recently. They’re the two who made the deal. Sadie knows of them, and she tipped me the wink. Apparently, they done her over when she was a kid. I want to make sure they never forget what they did. Ever. I want to hear them screaming this fucking Wing down.’
Ricky’s face was hard. ‘The dirty bastards!’ His thick cockney accent was to the fore now, all pretence at a West Indian timbre forgotten. ‘The filthy dirty bastards! They killed those little kids, didn’t they?’
Georgio nodded. ‘Amongst other things. The big one, Hall, he’s been at it for years by all accounts. He’s the main man, like. They torture the kids first, video it and all. They made a fortune out of selling the gear. The other one, Denning, is a bit of a dimbo though. Thick as shit. But still as bad. He’s the one that lured them away.’
Ricky shook his head at what he was hearing. ‘And they’re sitting down to eat with us? I fucking accepted a fag off that Denning yesterday. Fucking hell! There’ll be murder done once this gets out.’
Georgio sighed. ‘That’s why it mustn’t get out, see? I want to do them meself. That’s why I need a weapon. Now I am willing to bring you in on it, Ricky, because I trust you. Lewis knows I want them, and he’s happy for me to do the honours. And if you decide to do Lewis on the same day . . . there’s nothing I can do about that, is there?’
Ricky smiled again. ‘So you wouldn’t feel you had to do anything to help old Donald, like?’
Georgio shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t have thought a big boy like you would have needed help with a runt like him. But his minders now, that’s a different ball game . . .’
Ricky pinched out the joint with his finger and thumb and put the roach into his tobacco tin.
‘I get what you’re saying, Georgio, and I think between us we can work something out. When’s it to be?’
‘In ten days’ time, OK?’
‘We can do it sooner. I can have a weapon in three, maybe four days.’
Georgio shook his head. ‘In ten days’ time. That’s the plan for me and I don’t want it changed. I’ve trusted you on this, Ricky. Just bear with me, OK?’
The black guy nodded. ‘Fair enough. You must have your reasons. Now, about a weapon. I can get you a blade, a dangerous blade. Will that do you?’
Georgio nodded happily. ‘We can really have the place jumping over this.’
Ricky laughed. ‘Just watch out for that big Scouser. He’s out to assert himself soon, I’ll lay money on that.’
‘Chopper’s the least of our worries - we can do him with Lewis if we want.’
‘That sounds just right to me, Georgio. After all, we don�
��t want to overdo it, do we?’
The two men laughed together.
Georgio looked serious as he said, ‘One last thing, Ricky. Don’t let on to anyone by thought or deed what Hall or his mate are. We want this to come as a complete surprise to all concerned. You can bring your posse in on it on the day, not before, OK? If the screws get wind we’ve sussed them out, they’ll be moved off here like lightning.’
‘You know what young Benjy calls them, don’t you? Beavis and Butthead.’
Georgio sniggered. ‘That sounds about right to me. But promise me you won’t call the shots till the day?’
Ricky smiled nastily. ‘Don’t worry, Greek boy, no one will know a thing until I deem it necessary.’
Maeve, Pa and Mario were setting tables in the restaurant for the evening’s business. They worked in companionable silence. Pa had put the finishing touches to the linen napkins and stepped back to survey his work. Even though by daylight the restaurant looked shabby, in the muted light of evening it felt cosy, the deep red lampshades on the wall lights giving it a feeling of warmth.
‘In the New Year, we ought to think about a redec.’
Pa nodded slightly.
‘What do you say, Mum?’
Maeve stretched upwards, her back creaking painfully. ‘Jaysus, I could do with one of those meself! But you’re right, Mario. The place is getting a bit too shabby, even for us!’ She laughed as she spoke. A thick, false laugh.
Mario and Pa stared at one another for a few seconds and she watched them, watching her. Pa sighed and led his wife to a chair by the small bar area.
‘Come on, Maeve, out with it. What’s wrong with you?’
She shrugged. ‘Everything. Honestly, Pa, you know what I’m like. Ignore me. I’m up to ninety today what with one thing and another.’
She looked into his broad, honest face and felt a wave of love wash over her. Pa Brunos was a good man, a basically honest and kind individual. How had he sired Georgio and Stephen? Stephen especially. Mary was all right, even if she was a bit of a snob, Nuala was a mouthy bitch, but she was a good girl all the same. Even Mario, the apple of her eye and as queer as a two-bob clock, was all right in his own way. Patrick was as honest and boring as the day was long, so where did they get Stephen and Georgio?
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