Disobey (15 page)

Vaughn fired at him. It missed, allowing him to dive behind the table before charging towards the stage and towards Franny. He bolted to her and as he did so, he saw Vaughn aim towards him … and Franny.

‘No, Vaughn!… Don’t!’ The cry was drowned out by the loud shot, but as the person rushed forward, it was too late for Vaughn Sadler to realise what was happening. Too late to stop the bullet as she dropped to the floor, a pool of blood around her.

‘Casey!… Casey! Oh my God, Casey!’

Vaughn cried out as the others charged forward, circling around Casey. With his eyes wide open in terror, Vaughn fell to his knees and cradled Casey’s head in his lap. He looked at the others’ equally horrified faces.

‘What have I done?… What have I done?’

21

Mr Lee watched the monitor. He was pleased. The girl had terror carved into her face, both metaphorically and literally. Things had been going well, and the streaming of online sadism was racking up the dollars in the bank.

The only problem was getting the girls to appear in it. He’d tried the druggies who’d do anything for a bit of crack cocaine, but they’d been so drugged up they couldn’t even feel the pain, which was of course no good. As for the trafficked girls, he’d thought about it but like the dealing of underage girls, it was too risky. He couldn’t be sure if the police or families were looking for them, and if they were spotted, there was no doubt they’d try to track them down and be on his trail.

No, Lee wanted girls who were willing but without anyone caring whether they were hurt or scarred or lived or died, and from what Jodie had told him of this girl she’d met at the pub, she certainly fitted the bill.

Mr Lee sipped his tea; black not green, he’d never been partial to green, too much like the taste of fish for his liking. He was a PG tips man; he’d never had a complicated palate.

Sighing, he turned his attention back to Jodie. He’d met her in much the same way as he was about to meet this new girl. He’d paid girls who’d worked for him in the past to go out and find some
fresh meat
. Jodie had been perfect.

The girl was a runaway from care, abused by her father, vulnerable and desperate for that eternal quest of feeling like she belonged. And because she’d been touting herself since she was a kid, she had been up for anything and everything. But things had got out of hand one night with one of the punters who got their kicks from fucking the girls with hard, sharp objects. He’d got carried away and left Jodie with multiple anal and vaginal injuries.

To his surprise though, Jodie had kept her mouth shut and refused to even converse with the police. She had been loyal to Lee. Loyal because she’d had no one else. He was her everything.

Jodie didn’t have Stockholm Syndrome, where the hostage expresses empathy and sympathy as well as positive feelings towards their captor, sometimes even to the point of protecting and identifying with them. No, it was clear to Lee that Jodie had traumatic bonding; strong emotional ties that develop between two people where one of them has all the power and intermittently harasses, beats, threatens, abuses, or intimidates.

As a result, she would do anything for him and for her reward he had recruited her to be
the
recruiter, and she had shown herself to be astute and intuitive to be able to spot the right girls. But then, they did say like attracts like, vulnerable attracts the vulnerable – or in other words, whores attract whores. Jodie was just another throwaway commodity to him, something that could be used, but Lee knew to Jodie he meant far more.

‘Mr Lee?’ Lin stood by the door.

‘Yes, what is it? Make it quick.’

‘I’ve just had word from one of our sources that the flies are going to eat the spider. Alfie Jennings’ days are numbered, in fact they’re over today. Apparently his own colleagues, the other faces, are making him pay. Do you want me to do anything about it?’

Mr Lee stood up, leaving his half-drunk cup of tea. He thought for a moment he should leave them to it, let them fight amongst themselves, but then, he could never resist putting the cat amongst the pigeons.

22

‘Chloe-Jane?’

‘Hey you! I didn’t think you’d call me.’

‘I said I would didn’t I? What do you take me for?’ Jodie laughed down the phone.

‘I dunno. You know how people say they’ll call but never do, I thought that’s what you’d do.’

‘But why wouldn’t I call if we’re going to be meeting at two o’clock tomorrow?’

Chloe-Jane didn’t say anything for a second. She was so used to people letting her down that she imagined she was going to show up at two and Jodie would be nowhere to be seen.

A big smile spread across Chloe-Jane’s face. ‘I’m glad you called, Jodie.’

‘Good, ’cos I’ve got some good news for you. I talked to that fella and he probably will have some work for you. I told him all about you and he wants to meet you.’

Chloe-Jane squealed with delight. ‘You ain’t fucking me about?’

‘No I ain’t.’

‘Promise. This ain’t a wind-up?’

‘No Chloe, it ain’t.’

Chloe-Jane’s eyes filled with tears. She felt stupid but she didn’t care, this was the best news she’d heard in like forever. She’d be able to pay her way without worry. Finally she’d be able to call a place home. ‘You really spoke to him. You really did that for me?’

Jodie answered, but her voice seemed more distant and reflective than it had been before.

‘Yeah Chloe-Jane, I did that for you … Listen, I better go.’

‘Hey Jodie? Are you okay?’

‘Yeah I’m fine … I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Okay, I—’ The phone went down and for a moment Chloe sat motionless before she jumped up and down on the bed, feeling like the happiest girl in the world.

Fifteen phone calls later, Chloe’s mood had turned from joyous to being well and truly fed up. She’d been trying to get hold of Franny but her calls kept going through to voicemail; she’d wanted to tell her about her good fortune, albeit sparing the details of what she was going to do; not that Chloe entirely knew herself, but whatever it was she was certain it wasn’t going to be something she’d want to tell Franny.

Having tried Franny, Chloe had then attempted to contact Alfie. And again it was to no avail. Deciding that she really
did
want to share her news, Chloe picked up her jacket and headed off to Whispers club.

Walking up to the main entrance of Whispers, Chloe found the door was shut, which was odd as she knew the place was supposed to be open on Tuesdays.

Going to the side entrance of the club, down the small side alleyway, Chloe banged on the door. No answer. She banged on it again. ‘Oi! Uncle Alfie, are you in there? Uncle Alfie.’ Chloe continued to hammer on the door. Sighing, she was about to walk away but she heard the clatter of footsteps coming from inside.

‘Uncle Alfie! It’s me, Chloe-Jane.’

The steel metal door swung open and Chloe gave a grin. It was Franny.

‘Hiya, Fran, I didn’t think …’ Chloe-Jane stopped as she looked at Franny’s drawn face. She saw the fear in her eyes, and then she saw the blood.

‘What’s happened?… Are you hurt?… Franny, you’re covered in blood. Franny! Is it Alfie? Did he do something to you; did he?’

Franny gazed at Chloe-Jane, she whispered her words in a trance-like state. ‘No, it’s not Alfie … He’s alright, it’s my friend … my friend, Casey.’

Chloe still didn’t understand. ‘What’s happened, Franny?’

‘You better come in. I don’t walk to talk out here.’

Chloe-Jane didn’t hesitate to follow Franny through the steel door but she jumped as it slammed behind her, which drew a curtain of darkness in the corridor. Never having been a fan of the dark, Chloe stretched out in front of her. ‘Franny, I can’t see, where are you?’

Chloe didn’t receive an answer, and knowing something was very wrong, she didn’t pursue it, only tried to stumble forwards as her eyes adjusted to the dark.

She followed Franny to the end of the hall, where there was a door, a crack of light shining from underneath.

‘Don’t say a word, Chloe.’ It was all Franny said to her as she opened the door to reveal the grouped circle of men standing across the other side of the room.

There was Del Williams, Frankie Taylor, Alfie and Vaughn Sadler but there was something strange; different about them. As Chloe approached she saw what it was. Like Franny, they were all covered in blood.

Chloe-Jane froze, and if it wasn’t for the fact Franny was now holding her hand she would’ve run, terrified at the scene in front of her. Before she had the chance to say anything, Alfie spoke up, though his voice wasn’t harsh.

‘Chloe-Jane, what are you doing here?’

‘I was looking for you; well, Franny. Neither of you answered your phone. What’s going on?… Uncle Alfie, what’s happened?’

Alfie turned to Franny, exhaustion in his voice. ‘Why did you let her in?’

‘She was hammering on the door. I couldn’t leave her outside, could I? I actually thought it was Doc.’ The doctor who Franny referred to had seen all there was to see in Soho; he’d healed the wounds of most of the men who stood in Whispers club, he’d tended to the wounds of Franny’s father, Patrick, to Frankie’s son, Johnny, to Lola’s ex and long-deceased husband, Oscar Harding. He was the first port of call, someone everyone trusted, someone who’d keep his mouth shut.

‘Shut up!… Shut up!’ Vaughn’s voice boomed out, tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked around at the assembled company, and shook his head. ‘What are you talking about … It ain’t the doc we need, it’s a mortician.’

The circle of men opened up and Chloe saw for the first time what everyone was talking about. There, lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood, was Casey.

Chloe put her hands over her mouth to stop the scream coming out. ‘Is … Is she dead?… Is Casey dead?’

No one uttered a word. About to ask again, more hammering was heard on the door. Chloe-Jane looked around; frozen in horror.

‘Shall I?… Shall I …’ Without bothering to finish her sentence, Chloe ran. Back along the corridor, back through the darkness, to the side entrance where she’d first walked in. She threw open the door, seeing a small man standing there. Guessing it was the doctor, she gestured him in. ‘Come in … Come in, they’re waiting for you. Please hurry!’

Chloe turned and ran back to the others. ‘He’s here!… The doctor’s here!’

She turned, wanting to scream at the pace of the man and having to fight against the urge to drag him along faster. Her words spilled out. ‘She’s here!… She’s over here!’ Chloe pointed at Casey.

‘I think it’s too late. Even from here, I can see your friend is dead … I’m sorry.’

Frankie Taylor stared. ‘What …’

The man smiled. ‘Sorry, I should have said; I’m Lin. I understand you were looking for Mr Lee.’

With the grace of a man who was honouring the dead, Vaughn Sadler scooped up Casey’s body. So light. So beautiful. So still.

‘Vaughn …’ Del reached out to him, but stopped, unsure, unable to find the words.

‘Vaughn …’ Franny tried, but her stomach knotted, gripped in a vice-like hold. She couldn’t bear to look.

‘Vaughn …’ Alfie attempted, but his words faded into unspoken pain.

‘Vaughn …’ Frankie ran up to his friend as he got to the far end of the room, but dropped back as Vaughn shook his head.

‘Leave him Frank, let him take her up to the flat to say his goodbyes,’ Del called out to Frank, who understood perfectly what was going to happen, and why Vaughn needed to have some time alone with Casey, because in less than an hour it’d be like she never existed. The cleaners – Vaughn’s clear-up guys – would come in, get rid of any evidence. Get rid of any trace, and then they would take the body. Casey’s body would go somewhere no one would ever find her. Where no one would ever know. There’d be no flowers. No gravestone. Nothing. And as hard as it was, however cruel it seemed, that’s how it had to be. They all knew it, Vaughn knew it, and even Casey had known that. Because that was the life. That was the life they had all chosen to lead.

23

‘You?… How do you have the fucking front to come in here? Get out, or I won’t even think about putting a bullet in your head.’

Lin, who was now surrounded by eight of Mr Lee’s men, who were all armed and had come in directly after him, smirked. ‘Or you’ll what? You know how it works. Do you really want to start a full-scale war? By all means, if that’s what you want. I know Mr Lee wouldn’t be averse to it. You see gentlemen, the troubles you have at the moment you’ve clearly brought on yourself. It’s very much of your own making; you do understand that, don’t you? This could have all been avoided.’ Lin paused, looking around, he stared at Alfie then slyly added, ‘Mr Jennings, isn’t it? Help me out here, I have a very bad memory for faces. Where is it we’ve met before? Perhaps you can put your
finger
on it?’ He grinned, making Alfie very uncomfortable. ‘No?… Not to worry, I’m sure it’ll come to me in due course.’

Alfie stared in horror. What was happening was worse than any nightmare. Casey laid dead … Dead! Fuck, only an hour or so ago she was trying to grab a drink off him.

Since he was young Alfie had surrounded himself with criminals who dealt in killings; gangland and otherwise, but ironically it still didn’t prepare you for it when it was close to home. And fuck only knew, Casey Edwards lying only a few feet away from him was certainly close to home. Too close.

And if that wasn’t nightmarish enough, Lin, the man who’d come storming in to his casino night, the man who’d chopped off his finger without a blink of the eye was standing there, goading him.

If his game was to cause trouble, then by the way Frankie and Del were glaring at Alfie, Lin was certainly doing a very good job.

‘I can’t believe she’s dead. Franny?’ Chloe’s voice wailed through the tense atmosphere of the room. ‘I thought … I thought he was the doctor. I thought he’d come to save her. Franny …’ Chloe’s eyes brimmed with tears as Lin stood quietly watching and listening.

‘I know … I know sweetheart, don’t worry. I can’t believe it myself. But I think you should get out of here. Go on, Chloe, go home. This is no place for you.’