by Jacqui Rose
During her pregnancy she’d allowed him to look after her, letting him rent the flat in Soho and treat her like she’d never been treated in her life, but the minute Star had been born, she’d gone back to work, albeit in the flat.
Del had been furious. Ignoring her one minute, coming round to smash up the place in a jealous rage the next, begging her to stop work. Her heart had gone out to him, but no matter how much she’d wanted to make him happy, she couldn’t do the one thing he wanted her to – give up work – because Bunny knew giving up work would’ve meant letting her nemesis come into her life; her nemesis being trust.
One day she’d got fed up after he’d yet again barged into the flat, throwing out the punter she’d been with. They’d had a row. Him screaming at her and she at him. It was then she’d decided to turn the tables. ‘Okay Del. I’ll do it. I’ll give up bleedin’ work if that’s what you want, but on one condition.’
‘Anything darling; name it.’
‘Leave Edith and tell her about Star.’
His face had drained of colour and it was then Bunny had known she’d been right not to trust him. Del would never leave Edith, no matter how much he loved her and Star, and she would never trust him, no matter how much she loved him and wanted to have a life like she read about in books. So they’d come to an unspoken agreement that no matter how much they didn’t like the situation, that was the way it had to be.
Of course, Del still got jealous and he still made noises asking her to give up work, but there’d been a shift in balance. Del now knew what the condition had to be and, as Bunny knew he’d never agree to it, she felt safe in the knowledge that her having to trust someone would never be put to the test.
‘So are you all packed then, Bun?’
‘No, I ain’t even got me suntan cream sorted out. Maybe you should go on your own; I’ll come with you another time.’
‘You ain’t going to get out of it that easily.’
Bunny’s tension came back in her body and a frown creased her forehead. ‘What about Star? I don’t want to leave her.’
‘She’ll be fine with Claudia. That women will look after her like she’s one of her own.’
Bunny looked down, changing the subject quickly. ‘There’s some new girls on the block, apparently there was a bit of trouble with them. Chased off the regular girls: they’re not happy.’
Del scowled. ‘Who did you hear this from?’
Bunny shrugged her shoulders. ‘Just one of the girls who covers the Berwick Street area. I use to work with her. She’s a good un; don’t cause trouble or go looking for it, but she’s worried. Business is down because of it, so she asked me to have a little word in your ear. She said she thought it was the Russian lot. You know anything about it?’
Without answering, Del walked over and kissed Bunny on her head, before turning to Star and doing the same. It was all well and good letting the Russians come onto his patch and doing deals with them, but when they took the piss that was something else entirely. He turned and walked out, waving goodbye, then grabbing his car keys off the side.
Deep in thought, Del marched out into Brewer Street, not noticing Teddy Davies watching him.
11
Del Williams sat in Whispers club waiting for Milo Burkov to arrive. He didn’t mind waiting for people – shit went down sometimes – but he knew Milo was late just to prove a point, and the point was to make Del sit waiting like a fucking muppet.
There’d been lots of times Del had tried to turn up later for their meetings than Milo; hovering outside or driving round Soho a couple of times, even having an unwanted brew in Lola’s Cafe, all in an attempt to make Milo wait for him. But somehow Milo Burkov always got the upper hand, walking in a few minutes after Del did, a cheesy grin on his pocked Russian face.
It was an ongoing stand-off between the two of them, even though they both knew it was childish.
Sitting drinking neat malt whisky and trying to ignore the fact that he’d been waiting now for the past twenty minutes, Del thought of Bunny. There wasn’t really any time he didn’t think of her. It was all consuming. Each waking moment he wasn’t with her he wondered what she was doing, where she was going and who she was with. It was like an obsession. This thought had crossed his mind before and he’d quickly dismissed it, not wanting to think of himself as some pathetic cunt, but if he were truthful, that was exactly what it was. Obsession.
So many times he’d snuck past the formidable presence of Claudia to break in and see Bunny, wanting to catch a punter with her so he could take out his frustration and batter him senseless. There were times when the red mist descended and he could’ve quite easily squeezed the life out of them – and if it wasn’t for Bunny stopping him, he would’ve done.
It tortured him. Bunny fucking other men had almost broken him. Him. Del Williams. A man most men would be terrified of was broken by his woman.
Knocking back the rest of the whisky, Del sighed. He knew what he had to do if he wanted it all to stop. He had to leave Edith. But how could he? Edith would talk like a jack fucking rabbit. The only thing that would stop that mouth of hers was a bullet in her head.
The thought jolted Del. He sat straight up in the chair, putting down his glass carefully on the sticky table. He stared ahead at the velvet walls, replaying his words. A bullet in her head.
He’d often joked about doing away with Edith to his mates, but could he really do it? Really get rid of her once and for all? Of course he’d killed loads of people and had had loads of people killed, it wasn’t the actual practicality of killing that bothered him. Once you’d done it once then the other times were never a big deal, not even when they begged and cried, wetting themselves like a baby. Business was business.
No, with Edith it was different. It was more about sweeping away any last bits of loyalty he still had for her. But it would be the solution. He could be with Bunny properly. More to the point, Bunny would give up work and he could get back to form, properly concentrate on the big deals he had coming up with the Russians. Not worry about Edith opening her big trap. He could feel like he was number one again.
Just as quickly as the idea began to form, it petered away again. He shook his head to himself. What the fuck was he thinking? Of course he couldn’t do it. Though it was a nice thought.
Turning his head at a sound, Del saw Milo walk into the empty club. He was tall and skinny with blonde, almost white hair, which looked startling against his dark brown eyes and olive skin.
Del nodded, raising his hand, but his mind was far from the business he had to attend to, it was on Edith – or rather, the disposal of her.
‘Del. My friend. I’m sorry I’m late. You know how things are. Have you been sitting here long?’ Milo Burkov spread his arms, embracing Del. His thick Russian accent cut mockingly through the air.
‘No, not really. I got here late. Only just arrived myself.’
Milo slapped Del on the back and laughed, fully aware, thanks to his informant sitting in the far corner of the club, that Del had been waiting for him for almost forty minutes.
‘Well, I’m pleased to hear it. I couldn’t have you waiting for a Russian peasant like me.’
Trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, Del spoke. ‘Can I get you a drink? Vodka perhaps?’
Milo grinned again. ‘Ah, the English stereotyping of the Russians. I’m good. I like to keep a clear head when I do business.’
As Milo pulled up a chair, Del began to talk.
‘Let’s get straight to it then. There’s been problems with your girls. They’ve been chasing some of the regular Toms away. People aren’t happy with it. There’s been a lot of unrest.’
Milo shrugged his shoulders. ‘And what would you like me to do about it? You know what women are like. Very territorial. I can’t control what the girls do.’
Del leaned in. ‘Bullshit Milo, you run those girls with an iron bar. We both know that. Don’t play games. I let you come onto this patch as a favour for su
pplying the powder, not to let your girls crawl all over the place like fucking cockroaches.’
‘I don’t think your memory’s serving you so well these days, my friend. You need to get your nose out of the pussy, too much can be bad for the old grey cells.’ Milo winked at Del who gritted his teeth, listening to what else Milo had to say. ‘The way I remember it, you didn’t have a choice.’
Del bit his lip. ‘You know that ain’t fucking true. I saw a good deal and decided to run with it. I cut Teddy Davies out of the picture so we could do business directly and now you’re mugging me off with the girls. Taking the piss. You need to back off Milo, or the powder deal’s off. I’ll find another supplier for both here and the Costa.’
Milo Burkov’s face scrunched up into a sneer. ‘Both you and I know there’s no backing out. The shipment’s already underway. Don’t bring trouble on yourself, Del, not for a few whores.’
‘Then don’t fucking play me for a mug mate. Get your girls to back off and there won’t be any problem.’
Milo shrugged his shoulders. ‘You need to relax. The girls are small fry; they’re not worth worrying about. But if it makes you happy, I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Don’t see. Just do it.’
Milo clicked his fingers, gesturing the barman to come over. ‘Fine. It’s not good for women to come between us, especially when they’re only whores. How is Bunny by the way?’
It was all too much for Del; he sprang up from his chair, knocking the barman who was standing nervously beside Milo out of the way. He bellowed, feeling the vein in his neck pulsate.
‘Don’t push it, Milo. If you don’t want to bang me up the wrong way, some things are well and truly off limits and Bunny is one of them.’
From the far corner Milo’s sidekick came running up. It was Del’s cue. From the inside of his jacket he quickly pulled out a knuckleduster, aiming it at the sidekick. It struck the man’s face – drawing blood immediately – and, as it did so, Del twisted it around, grinding the man’s eye almost out of its socket. Blood oozed from his face as he screamed, falling onto the floor in agony. Bringing back his boot, Del kicked the man hard in the ribs to finish him off.
Out of breath, Del turned to Milo, expecting more trouble. Without reacting, Milo spoke to the barman, his voice soft and even. ‘A double scotch and the same again for my friend.’ Turning back to Del, Milo gestured his hand to the man groaning on the floor, and smiled. ‘Forgive my men. As you see they’re very loyal and sometimes a little, how shall I say it? … A little too enthusiastic for their own good.’ With that, Milo kicked at the bloodied man who staggered up, stumbling and holding onto his face in an attempt to stop the blood flow.
Del watched Milo carefully as he signalled for him to sit back down. He was a cool character, he’d give him that much. Always playing his cards close to his chest. Milo was a nasty piece of work. He’d seen him in action. Cold, ruthless and calculating but he chose his fights carefully. And unlike Del, Milo was clearly able to think first and react afterwards.
He wasn’t sure if he could trust Milo, but that was the nature of the business they were both in. Always looking behind your back. Always trying to be one step ahead. And he’d rather deal with Milo than with Teddy.
Teddy had got greedy – both for money and in his liking for powder. He seemed to be on the edge, which made Del very nervous. The man was a loose cannon and in the business they were in you couldn’t afford to be one, or for that matter to be around one. Not if you valued your life.
Del knew he had to distance himself from Teddy if he wanted to stay on top. The man had been all right at first. Another bent copper looking for his cut of things, and Del, like some of his associates, had been happy to pay him his due to keep the law off his back and run out any toerags who thought they could come on the turf.
It’d made his life easier. One less thing to worry about, but that had been then. Del didn’t need the likes of Teddy now. He was too big for that. He had his own men watching his back. And so great was his reputation around the country, even his enemies weren’t fool enough to try and take him on.
The main problem was that, somewhere along the line, Teddy had decided he wanted to be bigger than him. It was clear the man had become dissatisfied with the wad of money, drugs and girls that had been placed freely in his hand each week by Del and the other faces and dealers of Soho. He’d wanted more and now he was going to get nothing. Greed would be Teddy’s downfall and Del for one wasn’t prepared to go down with him.
Putting his glass down, Del spoke to Milo.
‘When’s the shipment hitting the Costa?’
‘Any day now. Are you still going over there this week?’
‘Perhaps, or I might leave it to my men to deal with it,’ Del answered in a non-committal manner. Even though he was in business with Milo, he didn’t want the man to know all his comings and goings. It was safer that way. The less people knew what he was up to the better; that’s the way it’d always been and that’s the way it’d carry on.
Looking at the time, Del got up. ‘Shit. I’ve got to go, but Milo, sort those girls out. I don’t want to be having this conversation again.’ He nodded his head towards Milo’s sidekick who was slumped in the corner. ‘Take him to Doc’s in Wimpole Mews and have him send me the bill.’ Without waiting for a reply, Del walked out of the club.
From the other side of the darkened room the emergency exit door opened and Teddy Davies walked in. His face was flushed and sweaty from the quiver he’d just taken, but he felt good. Very good. Del Williams had thought he was going to pull a fast one and keep him out of the loop; well that was his first big mistake. And his second? Trusting Milo Burkov.
Sitting down at the table, Teddy smiled at Milo. ‘Thanks for meeting me Milo. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while. I’ve got a proposition for you; I was hoping we could come to some sort of arrangement.’
12
Julian Millwood suppressed his laughter as he walked up to one of the other residents of his estate. Gary Cole. He brushed his brown curly hair out of his eyes as he spoke.
‘Gal. Have you got a moment?’
With hollow eyes, Gary nodded, listening but struggling to concentrate on what Julian was saying.
‘I’m sorry Gary, about Julie. She was such a sweet kid. If there’s anything I can do, just let me know.’
Gary nodded but said nothing, and with his head down he failed to notice the slight smirk on Julian’s face.
‘Well, I’ll let you get on and like I say, Gal, just let me know if I can help in any way.’
With large purposeful strides, Julian turned away, a huge grin appearing on his face.
Walking towards Camden Road, Julian opened another shirt button, exposing the mass of brown chest hair. He wasn’t sure if it was the heat of the summer that was making him sweat or just the thought of it. The thought of her.
It was almost too much to bear; his excitement in the last week or so had put him on such a high he knew he could easily get careless. And he certainly couldn’t afford to be that. He wasn’t prepared to go back inside.
Hailing a cab, Julian’s mind flicked back to earlier that morning when the police had knocked on his door. Routine checks, they’d told him. But he knew, like they’d known, it was far from routine.
They knew who he was and they’d been determined to find something, but like he’d told them, ‘There was nothing to find.’ Not there, anyway.
He’d watched them pulling his already filthy flat apart; tearing the back of the cupboards out, chucking cushions and throws onto the floor, frustrated they couldn’t find anything. He’d wanted to laugh at them as he listened to their snide comments and saw their cutting stares. But he’d said nothing, allowing them to get on with their job as he’d stood there. Stupid ignorant pigs sniffing about in the wrong place.
He’d presumed they’d come, but now that they had it meant he needed to get away. There was no way Julian was waiting around for them to keep coming
back.
The best thing he could do was to get out of the country. He’d planned on it anyway, but it looked like he was going to have to do it sooner rather than later – and he knew exactly the person he needed to see to help him do that. His lawyer, Alan Day.
Ten minutes later, Julian’s cab pulled up outside the drab offices off Gray’s Inn Road. Even on the sunniest of days, the building looked cold and bleak.
Marching into the office, Julian stared at the receptionist. Tits, hair and no brains.
‘Can I help you, Sir?’
With as much hostility as he could muster, Julian eyeballed the woman, before walking towards the double oak door.
‘No, it’s fine; I know where I’m going.’
‘I’m afraid you can’t go in there, Sir.’
‘Watch me or try to stop me.’
Julian stood in the doorway and laughed out loud at the sight of Alan Day getting his dick sucked by a hooker.
Red-faced, Alan jumped up, annoyed not only by the interruption, but by the fact he was just about to come.
‘Close the fucking door,’ Alan roared as he saw the faces of the amazed clients waiting for him in the expensive, newly decorated waiting area.
Doing up his trousers, he pushed some money into the girl’s hand, shoving her out of the door, along with the startled receptionist who followed closely behind.
Furious, Alan poured himself a large drink, his hand shaking.
‘Look, I don’t know what you want me to do, but it isn’t a great idea for you to turn up like this.’