by Sam Michaels
‘I’ve heard Johnny Dymond is turning good profits at the Clapham house and that poofter club is doing well. When you get out of here, I reckon she’s set up some nice little earners for you to take on.’
‘Fucking club for bent blokes. I’ll be changing that once I get my hands on it. I’ll have them Russian whores dancing down there. That’ll keep the pervs away.’
A man visiting a patient in the next bed turned around and politely requested, ‘Mind your language, ladies present.’
‘Piss off,’ Mickey growled and pulled his lips back to bare his teeth at the man.
The well-dressed gentleman recoiled and quickly spun back the other way.
‘Fucking cheek of it,’ Mickey said and they both laughed.
‘Your mum sends her love. She said she’ll be up to see you in the week and your brother is coming next weekend.’
‘Are they all right?’
‘Yes, mate, don’t worry about them. I’m checking on them regularly and me and Claire’ll bung ’em a few bob.’
‘Thanks, Frank. You and your missus are good sorts.’
‘We’re family, Mickey, blood bonds.’
‘How the fuck you ever got into the police force is beyond me. Our family have never been on the right side of the law. They must have slipped up when they did their checks on you.’
‘I know. My old man’s been in and out of jail more times than a priest’s dick has been in and out of a choirboy,’ Frank said and chuckled.
‘Is he staying out of trouble now?’
‘Yeah, but only ’cos the old codger has got dodgy lungs and can’t leg it anymore.’
‘Ah, I’ve always had a soft spot for Uncle Ron. Tell him I said hello when you see him next.’
‘Yeah, will do, Mickey. Have they said when you’ll be getting out?’
‘Nah, it’ll be a while yet and they said I’ll have to be wheeled out in one of them chair things. Sod that, I’ll be walking, Frank. A poxy bullet lodged in my spine ain’t gonna stop me. And when I walk out of here, I’m gonna fucking kill that Garrett bird. You’ll see. It’s her fault I’m in this mess and I’m gonna make sure she’s sorry for crossing me.’
20
Varvara had been mulling over her thoughts all weekend. The incident with Elmer Newman was nothing new to her. In fact, over the years, she’d experienced a lot worse at the hands of depraved men. But since meeting Miss Garrett, Varvara had been inspired by the woman’s strength and her confidence had grown. She no longer wanted to tolerate abuse handed out by men. And she most definitely didn’t want to have sex with one again. She had a newfound passion, feelings that overwhelmed her yet felt exhilarating and warm. It was love, something she’d only heard of but had never known before meeting Georgina. But every time a man violated her body, it marred her love and enough was enough. She hoped she wasn’t cutting off her nose to spite her face, and if things didn’t go how she hoped, she’d have to leave, taking Dina with her.
Varvara waited patiently on Monday morning for Miss Garrett’s associates to leave and then the policeman came and went. As Victor closed the front door behind the visitors, Varvara seized the opportunity and told him, ‘I’d like to speak to Miss Garrett.’
Victor showed her through and before she sat at the desk, she glared at Lash.
‘Yes, Varvara, what do you want?’ Georgina asked.
‘I am a free woman, this is correct?’ Varvara replied.
‘Yes, you are. You can come and go as you please.’
‘And if I so choose, I can leave without any consequences to my health?’
‘Yes, if that’s what you want.’
‘Fine. In that case, it is with regret that I have to inform you of my departure.’
‘You’re leaving? But I thought you was happy working for me?’
‘I am, Miss Garrett, but I no longer want to be a prostitute. It is all I have done since I was a child. I do not like it but I do like working for you.’
‘I see. What will you do, Varvara?’
‘I do not know yet, Miss Garrett, but I will not sleep with men.’
‘When are you planning on leaving us?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘That’s a bit quick. It’s a shame. You’re an asset to the business and very loyal. I’ll be sorry to let you go.’
‘Yes, it is sorry for me too. I would like it if you would offer me an alternative job, one in which I am not a whore. You know I am strong and am not afraid of men. I could help Victor, yes?’
It was a bold move for Varvara to have spoken so bluntly and she covertly crossed her fingers. Please, she thought, please agree. She wished now that she hadn’t been so quick to say she was leaving. If Miss Garrett didn’t offer her an alternative, she may not ever see the woman again and sudden panic surged through her veins.
Georgina sat back in her chair and chewed on the end of her pen. Varvara thought this was a good sign as Miss Garrett was obviously considering her proposition.
‘I’m not sure, Varvara. As much as I like you, this is a business I’m running and if I’m to keep you on, I need you to be financially viable.’
‘I would die for you, Miss Garrett, my life for yours,’ she said with conviction. ‘How much is that worth to you?’
‘That’s a very persuasive argument. I suppose I can probably find work for you. In fact, I’ll be visiting a night club in the West End tonight. You will come with me and we will test your worth. It’s business, Varvara, not pleasure and you will do exactly as I tell you. I’ll have to find another woman to take your place here and you’ll need accommodation elsewhere. You can take the attic room at the house in Clapham.’
‘But I’d rather live here.’
‘Where? I’ll need your room and whoever is in it to earn money.’
‘It is a very big room. Perhaps it could be divided? I want to be here, Miss Garrett. I can protect you from here.’
Georgina sighed. ‘Fine, I suppose that could work. Lash will arrange that. Be ready at eight tonight. Oh, and you’ll be needing this but only use it if absolutely necessary. Lash will show you how.’ Georgina unlocked a drawer in her desk and handed Varvara a pistol. ‘It belonged to Knuckles,’ she said.
‘Thank you, Miss Garrett. I promise you, I’ll work hard,’ Varvara said as she pushed her seat back.
She walked out of the office elated and could hardly believe what had just transpired. She was finally working with Miss Garrett. She’d be spending more time with her, and travelling with her too. She’d risked losing everything, but luckily, taking a chance had paid off and now her dream had come true.
*
‘Where are you going tonight?’ Lash asked Georgina once Varvara had closed the door.
‘I have some business to sort out at Charlie Chops’ club. In the meantime, I need you to find Elmer Newman, the bloke who roughed up Varvara.’ She realised she probably should have mentioned it sooner but couldn’t be doing with the onslaught of questions from Lash.
‘But I’ve already seen to him,’ Lash protested.
‘I know, but I want you to see to him again. If not Elmer, someone else who’s just as horrible.’
‘Why do you want this done? Am I missing something here, Georgina?’
‘No. I just want you to make sure whoever you find is unconscious and lying in the middle of the street on Battersea Bridge. Johnny will take you in his car, he knows what to do. I’ve instructed him to do a drive-by and push the body out, that way, no-one will see you.’
‘Why? What’s this all about, Georgina, and why are you going to Charlie Chops’ club when I heard him specifically ask you to stay away?’
‘I can’t tell you yet, Lash, but I will. Please, just trust me and do as I ask.’
‘As always, you’ll expect to have your own way,’ Lash muttered as he stomped across the office and left, slamming the door behind him.
‘Victor, go after him. Make sure he’s going to do what I’ve asked. Go, quick!’
Georgi
na glanced over at Benjamin who was peering at her over the top of his spectacles.
‘What?’ she snapped. ‘Out with it. You’re obviously thinking something.’
‘It’s erm, none of my business, Miss Garrett.’
‘Just say it!’
‘You’re, erm, undermining Lash. I think he’s finding it difficult, yet it’s plain to see he adores you.’
‘Yes, thank you, Benjamin. Tell me something I don’t know!’
‘If you don’t mind me saying, perhaps you could try being a bit nicer to him? As an outside observer, I do think you’re a little short of patience with him.’
Georgina sucked in a deep breath. She didn’t like to admit it but Benjamin was correct. Lash’s masculinity was what had first attracted her to him but now she found him irritating. He made it clear that he didn’t like the way she did things. He thought he should be in charge, but it was purely based on the fact that he was a man – that it was his so-called right. She loved him, more than she cared to admit, yet was fully aware that her role in the Wilcox business was a bone of contention between them. Very soon there’d be another one – surnames. Lash would expect her to take on his name but he was going to be in for a shock.
Georgina Garrett, married or not, would always be Georgina Garrett.
*
Later that evening, Varvara sat next to Georgina as Victor drove them to Charlie Chops’ club. Georgina had been impressed with how Varvara had dressed and thought she looked quite the part. Though her trouser suit was very masculine, it was smart and gave her an air of sophistication. It crossed her mind that she would make a very worthy Maid of Battersea. Thankfully, Lash had calmed down and had agreed to go along with her plans, though he’d made it clear that he didn’t like being kept in the dark.
‘You can drop us at the door, Victor.’
‘But you’ll need…’
‘No, thank you, Victor. Pick me up at midnight. I’ll see you later,’ she said sternly.
Georgina ignored Victor’s confused expression and walked up to the club entrance with Varvara at her side. Several people, mostly couples, were queuing at the entrance, but Georgina by-passed them and approached the doorman.
‘Mr Brennan is expecting me,’ she told him.
He stepped to one side and allowed her through where another man, the size of a mountain, took her to one side. ‘Miss Garrett, I presume?’
‘Yes.’
‘Are you carrying?’
‘Of course.’
‘May I ask you to leave your gun in our secure locker?’
‘No, you may not.’
He didn’t argue with her. ‘This way,’ he said and led them along a corridor plastered with framed photographs of famous actors and singers, all of them personally autographed to Charlie.
‘Grotesque,’ Georgina whispered to Varvara. ‘It’s all for show.’
The upbeat music from the orchestra played out along the corridor and got louder as they approached the main club area. Double doors were opened wide and Georgina looked in, momentarily dazzled by the lights from the stage area. The man handed Georgina over to another, much smaller man dressed as a waiter.
‘Miss Garrett, welcome. Mr Brennan has reserved a special table for you. He’ll be joining you shortly. Can I get you a drink? Champagne or one of our specialty cocktails?’
‘Champagne,’ Georgina answered and as she took her seat she pulled off her long gloves to place on the table in front of her. Leaning forward she whispered to Varvara, ‘Don’t drink too much booze. You have work to do shortly.’
The waiter returned with the bottle in an ice bucket. ‘Our finest, compliments of Mr Brennan.’
As the champagne was poured, Georgina looked around the club impressed with what she saw. This looked like the place where the rich and dandy liked to be seen.
‘Georgina, I’m so glad you’ve graced us with your presence.’
‘Charlie, hello,’ she answered and extended her hand to shake his but he took hold and gently kissed above her knuckles.
‘This isn’t what you were expecting, is it?’
‘No, Charlie, far from it.’
‘I bet you thought it’d be a dingy little back-street place with strippers and dirty old men, didn’t you?’
‘I’m ashamed to say that’s exactly what I was expecting.’
‘I’ve got a few clubs like that, but this one is for my more refined customers. It’s classy, ain’t it?’
‘Yes, though you manage to lower the tone,’ Georgina said and laughed.
‘I like a woman with a sense of humour. And who’s this beauty you’ve brought with you?’ Charlie asked as he eyed Varvara.
‘Eyes off, she stays with me.’
‘Fair enough. How’s your champagne?’
‘It’s acceptable,’ Georgina answered, knowing that Charlie now used the same supplier as The Penthouse Club.
‘Excuse me, Mr Brennan, there’s a matter that requires your attention,’ the waiter interrupted awkwardly.
‘I’m sorry, ladies, duty calls.’
‘Not at all, Charlie. We’re quite happy listening to the band. Take as long as you need.’
Once Charlie was out of earshot, Georgina snuck a large pouch under the table to Varvara. ‘Quickly, put this in your bag. Now, I want you to go the toilets and wipe your lipstick off. Come back looking ill. You’re going home. I’ll get Charlie’s man to take you. That bag I’ve just given you – make sure you hide it in the car but somewhere where it can be easily found. It’s very important – do you think you can do that?’
‘Yes, but I’m not a good actress.’
‘Your acting is fine when you pretend to be enjoying sex with the customers. Varvara, can you manage this job or not?’
‘Yes… pretend to be sick and sneak this bag into the car somewhere to be found.’
‘Don’t let me down. Go on, off you go.’
Varvara went to the ladies’ toilets whilst Georgina sat alone and slowly sipped her drink. She could feel her heart hammering in time to the music and hoped she didn’t look as nervous as she felt.
Charlie appeared again and sat down. ‘Sorry about that. Where’s your friend?’
‘I don’t think she’s feeling very well. She’s popped to the ladies’.’
‘Are you enjoying yourself, Georgina?’
‘Yes, Charlie, it’s fabulous. I hope I don’t have to cut the night short if my friend is poorly.’
Varvara returned and having cleaned her face of lipstick and rouge, with her blonde hair, she now looked pale, and swayed as Charlie jumped up and pulled out a seat for her.
‘Oh, Varvara, you look awful. How are you feeling?’ Georgina asked, feigning concern.
‘Dreadful.’
‘You should be in bed at home but how silly of me to have given Victor the evening off.’
‘You’re not with your driver?’ Charlie asked, sounding surprised.
‘No, I knew I’d be fine here with you to look after me,’ she answered with a little flutter of her long dark lashes, knowing that playing to his ego would charm him. ‘Would you be a sweetie, Charlie, and send Varvara home in your car? I don’t think she’s well enough to wait for a taxicab. That way, I can stay and have some fun.’
‘Yes, of course. She’ll find my motor far more comfortable than one of them cabs. Take her out the back door. I’ll get my driver.’
Georgina held an arm under Varvara’s and helped her through the club. ‘When you get to Battersea Bridge, there’ll be a police roadblock. Get out of the car and don’t let anyone get a picture of your face. The police won’t ask you any questions so just walk away. Got it?’
‘Yes,’ Varvara answered.
Georgina was pleased that Varvara didn’t bombard her with questions. The fewer who knew about what was going on, the better.
Once in the fresh air, Charlie held the back door of his car open for Varvara.
‘I think she’ll be better in the front,’ Georgina told him.
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Varvara climbed in and once again, Georgina was impressed with the woman’s composure. If Varvara was feeling nervous, it didn’t show.
‘I’m glad you’re staying,’ Charlie told Georgina as the car sped off. ‘It’s nice to have the company of a woman who can hold a decent conversation, for a change.’
‘I’m glad too,’ Georgina lied, and hooked her arm through his to walk back into the club.
Georgina took her seat but had a job to stop her legs from jigging with nerves. She twisted her mother’s wedding ring and plastered on a big smile though she was sure Charlie could see through her act and that her smile didn’t reach her eyes.
She tried to sneak a glance at the watch on Charlie’s wrist. Any minute now, it’ll be happening any minute now, she thought, hoping everything would go according to her meticulous plan. If it didn’t, there was a strong possibility that Varvara may already be dead and Charlie would drag her outside and put a gun to her head.
She wouldn’t know until midnight when Victor returned to take her home – if she lived that long.
21
Two weeks later, Georgina sat in David Maynard’s office and accepted a celebratory glass of champagne.
‘We’re all square now. You stuck to your side of the bargain so Victor and my car are officially yours,’ David said and raised his glass. ‘Well done, Georgina. The world will be a better place without the likes of Charlie Chops walking it.’
‘You can be honest with me, David. You didn’t believe I could pull it off, did you?’ Georgina asked.
‘I had my doubts but hoped you could. I should have had more faith in you. You’ve proved yourself time and again. Let me get it straight though. Firstly you arranged for a bloke to be battered and left on Battersea Bridge. You then paid off your copper to find him and put up a roadblock. Next you arranged for your Russian woman to be driven home in Charlie’s car, giving her the opportunity to stash the diamonds, and of course your copper had been tipped to know exactly what car to stop and search. It was a stroke of bloody genius to have a news reporter there. He got a photo of the diamonds in the pouch and a good shot of Charlie’s driver. Once the story ran on the front page, the Portland Pounders saw it, assumed Charlie Chops had done them over so they gunned him down and his doormen with him. No-one to talk. No-one can put you at the scene. But what about his driver, the one who got nicked on the night?’