by J. D. Weston
She stepped into the kitchen and Harvey heard the sound of boiling water. Cupboards opened and closed, and crockery was moved about. Five minutes later, she emerged again with a tray of three bowls of what looked like porridge. She set them down outside room five, opened the door and set the tray inside without a word. She locked the door and did the same procedure for room four before returning to the kitchen, retrieving her handbag and walking to the door.
She stepped out and pulled the door closed after her. Harvey heard the lock click into place and the rattle of her keys as she stepped away to her car.
Harvey walked across the wooden beams and stepped on the steel joist. He walked along then hung down and dropped to the floor. He unlocked the door and opened it a fraction. It was clear, so he stepped out and locked the door behind him.
Moving quickly, he unlocked the BMW, climbed in and started the engine, then tore along the bumpy driveway. He turned right out of the farm entrance, the opposite direction to where he'd seen both Donny and the woman head to. He drove directly to Epping, through the town centre and passed where he'd parked his bike earlier that day.
With no sign of the VW, he pulled the BMW into the car park of a nearby supermarket and walked casually back to his bike. He was careful to avoid direct exposure to the cameras that were sporadically fixed to the street lights in the car park.
Harvey unlocked the back box, removed his helmet, and within thirty seconds was joining the light traffic on the road out of Epping. It felt good to be riding again; Harvey wasn't a fan of cars, they felt too claustrophobic.
He ran through the scenarios in his head. Ideally, he would find Donny in the farm on his own. But the mention of Bruno, who Harvey assumed was the man driving the Toyota SUV behind Donny the previous day, gave Harvey doubts. If Bruno was to be mucking out the stables and be around when the client was there, presumably he was not intellectually involved in the operation. He possibly provided some level of security. That was Donny's style. He would give the impression of wealth by having a minder to disguise his cowardliness.
In an ideal situation, Harvey would have surveillance hardware from the team, but he couldn't exactly call them up and ask to borrow some binoculars and a Diemaco sniper rifle. Hopefully, the capture of Brayethwait had stroked Carver's temper a little.
Harvey decided to overshoot the farm and spent the remaining daylight off-roading. He worked his way through the fields to come upon the farm from behind. If he could find somewhere to stash his bike, he could then sit and watch the play. Patience.
Julios, his mentor, had drilled into him the importance of patience and planning. Harvey would need to know routines, schedules and habits. He would need to identify the players, work out the pecking order and find a way to isolate Donny. It would be easy to pull up alongside Donny's Mercedes at traffic lights and shoot him through the glass, but suffering would be minimal. Harvey was not an unkind person. But, in his mind, the only way to really pay penance for an evil was to suffer in a similar fashion; it brought a certain balance to the world.
The house where Harvey and Donny had grown up and where Harvey had boiled Sergio alive wasn't far from the farm, perhaps fifteen minutes. Harvey was very familiar with the area and knew a way into the farmer's fields behind the barn.
His BMW motorcycle was as capable off-road as it was on tarmac, and soon it was spitting mud from the back end as Harvey wound his way along the edges of the surrounding fields. A thick copse of trees stood behind the farm. It was perhaps five hundred yards from the buildings, which meant that Harvey would have to crawl five hundred yards.
Harvey pulled his bike into the trees and removed his helmet. His view of the barn was far from perfect, he would definitely need to get closer. The fence that ran behind the barn spread far across the fields. All along the underside, there were thick wild grasses, nettles, and occasional blackberry bushes.
Laying on his front, Harvey made his way along the fence and pulled his weight with subtle movements of his feet and forearms. Each movement gained four to six inches. It took him two hours to reach the barn, but when he did, he was confident that nobody from any direction had spotted him. He parted the grass slightly in front of him, which gave a clear view of the barn's front side from thirty metres away. Even if somebody walked up to the fence, he would remain unseen under the growth that grew beneath it.
At six-forty-five, the BMW X5 turned into the farm's entrance and headed slowly up the track. Jamie climbed out. She was unlocking the single door of the barn when the Toyota SUV turned in and made its way up the drive in a far more reckless manner. It bounced in the potholes and large dust cloud formed in its wake.
Jamie didn't wait for the other car to arrive, she disappeared inside. The Toyota skidded to a halt in the dirt in front Harvey. The dust cloud followed it a few seconds after, so Harvey closed his eyes to protect them and covered his face with his shirt.
By the time the dust had cleared, the driver was already out of the car and opening the door to the barn. Harvey caught a glimpse of the man. He was big, very big. That didn't frighten Harvey, not much did, it just meant that if he came to blows with the big man, Harvey's approach would need to be tailored to suit. Large muscular men tended to have beef protecting their organs, so a throat attack was often more suitable. This was slightly more tricky as a forceful blow to the man's throat could kill him. Harvey didn't necessarily need to kill him. Unless, of course, he deserved it. Time would tell. For the time being, the man was just a barrier between Harvey and Donny. It made the challenge more exciting.
Another thirty minutes passed when Donny's gleaming Mercedes came into view. Donny took the bumpy track slowly, manoeuvring the large saloon around potholes. He came to a stop in the spot nearest the door. The engine was cut and the door opened, and Harvey saw his foster brother for the first time in six months.
7
Sneaky Peeky
Six months before, when Harvey had found and tortured Sergio, he had given up Donny's name. Donny had, at the time, been in the Maldives pretending to be dead following an attempt on his life by a rival gang, the Thomsons.
It had been the perfect timing for John Cartwright to stage his own son’s death, which effectively took the Cartwright family out of the running for the diamond heist that was being planned.
The heist attempt had not gone ahead. The Cartwrights had lost their weapons, and John Cartwright had gone missing. Donny returned a month later to find his best friend, Sergio, killed, his father missing, and his father's house a crime scene. The northern job was carried out by an unknown, and the family business was in ruin.
With what little capital he had left, Donny had to make a new start on his own. Without the financial backing of his father, and the support of his father's resources, it had been a struggle, but he'd met with an old friend, Barney, who had, in turn, introduced him to Jamie.
Donny still had a giant target on his back in the criminal society. So he'd hired some protection in the form of Bruno, a former bare-fist knuckle fighter in East London's underground scene.
Bruno wasn't just a bodyguard, he was Donny's conduit to the outside world. Before Donny went anywhere, Bruno would arrive up to thirty minutes beforehand to make sure the route was safe, and the location was secure. If it wasn’t, Donny would not move.
Bruno stood nearly six-foot eight and out reached most men in the ring. He weighed a formidable one hundred and forty kilos, most of which was solid bulk. His one flaw was that he was slow by boxing standards. His last few fights had been with smaller and faster opponents, and he'd taken many blows to the head. He'd still won, but his head had taken a beating. He often landed only one or two punches, but that was all that had been needed.
His career had left him slow in the head. He had some money, enough to live on, but it wouldn’t provide a lavish lifestyle by any means. Donny had seen him and stepped in, offering the huge man a way out.
Bruno's slow mental ability did not affect his instincts or his eye f
or danger. After nearly two decades on the underground scene in East London and South London, he'd had his fair share of vicious attacks, from bottles, knives and guns. Men who had lost money waited in the car park of the pub or in a dark back alley. He had a sense for danger and an immensely powerful body.
Donny was a business genius, but a shallow coward. The two were well suited.
Donny stepped into the barn. His aftershave overpowered the sandalwood air freshener that neutralised the odour of fifty years of horses and four months of Eastern European girls using buckets for toilets.
“Ah, you’re here,” said Jamie from the couch area of the barn. She had her laptop open and was finishing an email. Donny ignored her.
“Bruno, where are we?” he said.
“Just finished mucking out, boss. Need to hose them down, though yeah?” Bruno said with a grin.
"That's right, Bruno, the client will be here in half an hour, let's get them cleaned up." Bruno smiled and unlocked stable four.
"Knock knock, ladies, it’s bath time," he said in his slow, baritone, lazy grumble.
Donny turned to Jamie, “Who’s the new client?”
“Some hotshot lawyer from the city, has a place out in Ongar. Said he heard about this place from a client of his.”
“Who? Are we running checks on these people? We’re not letting any old Tom, Dick and Harry in are we?”
“We are certainly not letting in any old Tom, Dick or Harry, Donny. He’s been vetted, paid up front, cash. He said if it’s what he expects, then he’ll make it regular.”
Right then, Bruno came walking out of the stables with three girls in tow. He held a brown leather strap that was fixed to the first girl's neck, which in turn was attached to the next girl, and that one to the third. They could easily unfasten the collars, but they knew better than to try. They had all been stripped of their clothing and walked behind him, ashamed and embarrassed, to the far wall where Bruno took the leather strap off.
Donny stood and watched as Bruno handed each of them a bar of soap. Then he uncoiled the hose from the reel on the wall and tested the pressure.
“Are we ready, ladies?” he said.
The first girl was dark haired, with dark features but pale white skin. She was physically flawless. She had no fat on her body whatsoever. Her chest was small but pert, and her legs were slender. She was just sixteen years old, the youngest of the girls. She was also tough. She stared hard at Bruno as he turned the hose on her.
“Get washing, come on, you need to wash those bits and bobs, for Uncle Bruno and his massive-“
“Bruno, come on mate, he’ll be here soon, no time for fun and games. You can have a go later, once the client has gone,” said Donny.
“You can’t keep letting him do that, he’ll ruin them,” whispered Jamie in a harsh tone.
“Oh come on, Jamie, he don’t get many pleasures anymore, look at him. He leads a simple life does our Bruno, it keeps him going. Look how happy he is.”
“Hey, Bruno,”
Bruno turned, “Boss?”
“How happy are you right now?”
Bruno gave a low, clumsy laugh, followed by a large intake of air into his huge lungs.
“See what I mean? Leave him alone, he’d never hurt them.”
“I think Barney has been visiting a little too often too. Honestly, how you expect the girls to be in any decent condition by the time you guys have all had your way, I do not know.”
“Oy,” said Donny holding his hands up defensively but smiling. ”I haven’t been tainting the goods, I don’t need to, thank you very much. Anyway, where is Barney? Haven’t heard from him all day, it's not like him."
“I saw his car earlier, and I messaged him, but haven’t had a reply.”
“Let me know if you do hear from him though, I’d like to get the budget sorted out. I’m thinking we should expand the operation.”
“Expand?” said Jamie. “Into where?”
“A new place, Jamie. I’m thinking we should keep the location moving. Always into a bigger place. See if we can get six months rent on the next place, and double the number of rooms, then do that again after six months-”
“I thought this operation was only for a year, so we could all make a quick few quid. It’s not exactly a career for me, Donny. I can barely sleep at night.”
"Jamie, it's not my ideal career either, I can assure you, but let's face it. We can do this and earn well, or we could go work in an office, for peanuts."
“The money isn’t that good, Donny. I mean, it’s good, but it’s not going to make us millionaires. We keep having to buy new girls.”
“Bigger picture, Jamie girl. I want to bring more girls in, up the quota. Right now we’ve got six rooms, two of them are bedrooms, the others are for the clients. So we can have four clients come in at any one time. I want to put the girls out to farm first. Have them earn their cost. So clients who don’t want to go for the premier package as it were, can still get their rocks off. Once the girl has earned her cost back, she can move to the next room, ready to be offered to the premier clients. Then it’s the big bucks
“Its a barn, Donny. It stinks.”
“I’m putting the prices up too,” said Donny, ignoring her. “Premier is seventy-five thousand. The pikey package will be a grand for an hour. She’ll only need ten pikeys, and then we can offer her to a premier client, Jamie. Come on, you don't look impressed.”
“Did you hear what I said?” Jamie put her hands on her on her hips and furrowed her brow as she looked at him, “It’s a barn, it stinks.”
“Well, so what, we have to start somewhere, Jamie. Look at Bill Gates, he started in his parent’s basement or something. We can turn it into some kind of wild west theme, that way we wouldn’t have to do a lot to it. Maybe have a bar as well, punters would love that.”
"He was making computers, Donny. You're offering prostitution services to wealthy gentlemen who get their kicks from killing the girls. The idea behind prostitution is one that has stood the test of time. Girls sell their bodies for sex, over and over. It's a reusable commodity. Your whole methodology sucks. Are you going to implement some kind of just in time inventory management? How do you plan on keeping a steady flow of girls coming into the country?"
“Jamie, you bring the clients, I’ll bring the girls. I told you. I have a good contact, and he hasn’t let us down yet has he?”
“The last batch were nearly dead when they got here, how the bloody hell is he getting them in the country?”
“Jamie, do I ask you how you get your clients?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, you did about ten minutes ago.”
“Okay, well do I criticise your methodology?”
“What’s to criticise?”
“Did you hear about Oscar Shaw?”
“Oscar Shaw?”
“The very famous stage actor who was in here about three weeks ago, you remember him?”
“Yes, of course I remember him, he tipped very well, had two girls didn’t he?”
“He bloody died. Police found him in his dressing room didn’t they? Naked with some actress. They’d snorted ant killer or something, anyway, police found a flash drive with a video of him here with the two girls.”
“No way.”
“Yep, it was in the papers.”
“Can they trace it back to here?”
“No, impossible. He called a burner.”
"Boss, I'm done, they're all clean," called Bruno from the other side of the barn.
"Righto, Bruno," Donny replied, then lowered his voice again. "Just relax, Jamie. Trust me, I've been on the wrong side of the law my entire life, it’s in my blood. And I'm not stopping until my bank account says I don't have to work another day in my life." He left her with a serious stare and turned to Bruno.
“Good work, Bruno, my son. Good work.” The six girls were lined up and connected by their necks again with the leather straps. “Right ladies, let’s see those smiles then. Who’s going
to be the lucky one tonight then, eh? Which one of you beautiful girls is going to meet the man of your dreams tonight? Because you do know the rules don’t you?”
They looked at him, scared but defiant.
"Whoever gets picked, gets to go home, you get to say goodbye to your little family here. So, go on, when the client arrives. Make him welcome. Won't you?"
Bruno stood behind him grinning. Donny noticed him. “Okay girls, new approach, whoever doesn’t get picked tonight will have to take this fella on, and I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that, I can tell you.”
Jamie grinned at his joke from the other side of the barn and caught Donny's eye. He’s a sick bastard, she thought.
The sound of tires of the dirt outside silenced the room. “Bruno,” said Donny, and with a slight movement of his head, Bruno was out of the barn and standing guard at the door.
Jamie slipped out beside him, “Ah, Mr Narakimo, how are you, sir? Did you find us okay?”
"Stone is down to one chip," said Reg from the back of the van. “He must have tossed it back there.”
"It's okay, I figure we know where he's going," said Melody.
"How about us? We can’t drive around with this guy. Can’t we drop him off at a police station or something?" Reg was forced to sit close to his bench with Brayethwait laid on the floor behind him.
Melody called Frank, he picked up on the first ring.
“Carver.”
“Sir, we have one IC-1 male in custody, name of Barnaby Brayethwait. We have an audio confession pertaining to the rape and murder of a minor and also highlights Cartwright and one other, a Jamie Creasey.”
“Good work, well done. What’s the plan now?”