The Jump (24 page)

‘You look rough, girl, you should lay off the gear.’ ‘Piss off, Alan. It’s too early in the morning for lectures, even from you.’ She sat up in the bed, making no attempt to hide her nakedness. ‘Give me a cigarette, Al.’

He passed her a pack from her handbag, which she had dumped on a chair by the window. She lit up and breathed the smoke deeply into her lungs. As the coughing attack hit her, Alan shook his head. ‘You abuse yourself, Lally, but you know that, don’t you?’ She nodded her head, coughing with all her might, her face red with the effort. ‘Cup of tea and a cough, the great British breakfast!’ Alan picked up the mug and gave it to her. ‘This is coffee, Lally. You don’t drink tea, remember?’

She took another drag on her cigarette and sipped at the steaming coffee.

‘Where were you last night? I thought you’d have closed up by two-thirty.’

Alan walked out of the bedroom without bothering to answer. As he sat at the kitchen table she ambled through with coffee, cigarettes, and his bathrobe draped over her body. She hadn’t bothered to tie it up and he knew it was a calculated gesture. He tied it for her.

‘Listen, Lally, I don’t want you coming and going here as if it’s your place. I gave you the key for emergencies only. Now, if you don’t mind, I want it back.’

She sat at the table and smiled. ‘Why do we always have to go through this, Alan? You’ll get in the shower and I’ll follow, you’ll make love to me, and .then I’ll watch while you cook us a bit of breakfast. Then we’ll be all right until the next tune.’

Alan shook his head vigorously. ‘There ain’t going to be a next time, Lally. I don’t like this. I don’t like my space being invaded. You know what I’m like, love. I don’t want anything permanent.’

Lally sniffed disdainfully. ‘Who said that I do then? Don’t fancy yourself too much, Alan Cox. I don’t want anything permanent either. You’re not the only bloke I see.’

Alan looked into the clear blue eyes and said softly, ‘But you’d like me to be, wouldn’t you?’

Lally had to drop her eyes then, aware of the truthfulness of the statement. She stamped her foot like a child. ‘Why do you do this to me, Alan?’ Her voice was a low whine.

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them ‘Why do you shut me out? Can’t we just try it together?’

Alan softened but shook his head nonetheless. ‘Not in a million years, darlin’. I don’t want anything permanent, and if I did it wouldn’t be with a torn, no matter how high-class she was.’

He felt bad saying that to her, because in reality he couldn’t care what her job was,xbut he knew it was the only thing he could say that would wound her Enough to make her leave him in peace. Over the years he had known toms he would rather have over fifty so-called respectable, housewives, and he’d had a few of those as well, which was why he preferred the toms. They didn’t pretend, they were real, you knew exactly what you were getting.

He’saw the shine of tears and sighed again. ‘I’m sorry Lally.’

She stood up, her dignity all she had to shield herself with. ‘I didn’t deserve that, Alan, and you know it.’

She watched the man before her, his blond hair tousled from sleep, his broad shoulders held back as if warding off a blow, his deep blue eyes with the perfectly placed laughter lines around them, and felt the pull of him. Never before had she wanted anyone so badly.

‘We can still be friends, Lally, only I want us to be proper friends who ring each other before they drop in, who don’t just land on each other’s doorsteps.’

She nodded. He had never rung her, not once. He had never dropped in to see her ever. He was trying to save her dignity and it hurt her more knowing that.

He pulled her into his arms, contrite now because he had wounded her, but sure enough of himself to know she had finally got the message. He could be the big man now, could comfort her.

‘I’m sorry, Lally, you’re wasting your time on me. No woman will ever share my bed or my life again. If any woman was going to, it would have been you, I swear. I just don’t ever want all that again.’

Lally pushed her body into his, feeling the strength of him, smelling his particular odour.

‘I understand, Alan, I won’t ever do anything like this again. I’ll still see you though won’t I?’

He smiled down into her eyes. ‘Course you will.’

But they both knew he was lying.

An hour later there was no trace of Lally in the. flat, and Alan was on the telephone organising his day. He was excited about what Georgio had asked him to do. He had been too long away from the stimulus of the criminal world. Alan was actually enjoying himself.

Donna woke at one o’clock. She lay on the bed, her eyes heavy, her limbs weighted with tiredness. As she sat up she saw herself in a

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mirror and frowned. Her hair had dried all over the place. Pulling herself from the bed, she went into the shower once more.

She felt lighter as the water hit her in hot jets. The last of the sleep left her body and life tingled back into her muscles.

At two-thirty she was walking downstairs, dressed, made-up and immaculate. As she entered the kitchen Dolly sat at the table shelling peas. She smiled at Donna.

‘Have a good sleep?’

Donna smiled back. ‘I take it you knew about Paddy keeping guard on the house, Dolly?’

Dolly had the grace to look ashamed.

‘It’s funny, you know, but you keeping this from me hurts more than anything that Georgio or anyone else could do to me. Because I really thought we had a deep friendship, a mother and daughter relationship even. It seems I was wrong.’

Donna flapped a hand at the older woman. ‘No, don’t bother getting up. I’m going out now and I don’t know when I’ll be back.’ She smiled maddeningly as she added, ‘So don’t wait up, will you?’

Picking up her car keys she marched out of the house, leaving Dolly stunned at her words.

Two hours later, Donna was sitting in Amigo’s, nursing a white wine and soda and listening to Alan Cox as he explained why he thought someone else should be the go-between.

Alan’s eyes were all over the restaurant as he spoke to her. Even deep in conversation he kept his eye on his staff and his customers.

The thing is, love, I don’t think you’re cut out for this kind of thing. That’s no offence or anything, in a way it’s a compliment. But this could get a little bit scary, you know? There’s people I need to involve who’d scare Old Nick himself, do you get my drift?’

Donna watched him without saying one word.

His eyes stopped their wandering jo look at her properly. ‘Are you listening to me?’ His voice had risen two octaves and he looked cross. Donna guessed most women hung on to his every word, and he wasn’t used to the reaction he was getting from her. Boredom.

‘I don’t have much choice, do I? You talk enough for a battalion. You’re like Georgio in a lot of ways. You expect people to listen, especially people like me: women, menials. Well, Mr Alan Smart Arse Cox, I’ve been’listening to you for ages. If you bothered to make eye-contact now and again instead of looking at every other person in the place, you’d have noticed that much yourself.’

Alan frowned, taken aback at her words. ‘Aren’t you feeling all the ticket, love?’

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them Donna shook her head slowly in consternation. ‘You make me laugh, do you know that? You sit there with your handmade suit and your expensive cigar as if they’re props that will make you someone, a somebody. You talk at me, not to me, and calmly expect me to jump immediately to your way of thinking. Well, Mr Cox, I won’t. In fact, I am just about getting sick and tired of being told what I should think, what I should do, and how I should ruddy well do it.

‘I have a house that is like Fort Knox, I have a man called Lewis apparently threatening me. Oh no, not me, he’s threatening my husband with hurting me - another man who hasn’t the decency or brain capacity to mention it to the person concerned! I have a housekeeper who’s in on the conspiracy, the great “Let’s not let Donna know anything” conspiracy. Even though I am being asked by my errant husband, a man who at this moment in time is hardly in a position to call the shots, if I will kindly break him out of prison. Break the law, put my life, my freedom, and my natural honesty on the line. All for him of course, not for me.

‘And you have the gall to sit in front of me and talk at me like I’m a child, and expect me to be grateful and fall in with all your plans without a by your leave. Well, you can go and take a running jump! Is that in language you understand? Only I was never much of a swearer. Unlike you, my husband and others of your ilk.’

Alan Cox sat back in his seat flabbergasted. Then, to make matters worse, he laughed at her: a deep rollicking laugh that caused other diners to turn their heads.

Donna sat, stiff-backed and straight-faced, and stared at him. It suddenly occurred to her that she didn’t like the man before her. She didn’t like his arrogance, his manner or his clothes. Didn’t like his acceptance that anyone and everyone would automatically fall in with his plans. The way his eyes swept over every woman in the room and silently graded them on a scale of one to ten. She didn’t like him at all.

She had been going to tell him to find a replacement, but now she couldn’t. Because that would make her, in his eyes, what he already thought she was. A bit of skirt, a bit of fluff. Just a woman.

His laughter stopped as abruptly as it had started and Donna saw the Alan Cox that most men saw. His face was now stony, hard looking. The lines were no longer soft and endearing but now gave his appearance a chiselled quality. He looked for all the world like a man who had indeed kicked another man, another human being, to death and she felt the first prickles of fear.

‘You’ve got a smart mouth, lady.’

Donna smiled, forcing herself to relax. ‘It’s probably the only thing

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we have in common, Mr Cox. Let’s try and build on that, shall we?’ She picked up her drink and sipped it nonchalantly, aware of his eyes boring into hers.

‘Let’s get something straight, Mrs Brunos. I don’t want you as my number two. I want a geezer, someone in the know. I need someone with experience, acumen and bravado. I want a known face.’ All pretence of being a businessman was gone now and Donna noted the fact.

‘Well, take a good look at mine, Mr Cox, because this is the only one you’re getting.’

Alan Cox looked into the white strained face before him, and his first reaction was to bellow with rage. Alan Cox was used to women like Lally, women who wanted him so badly they automatically fell in with whatever plans he had. In his mind’s eye he had envisioned telling her the bad news, giving her a bit of lunch and getting on with what he had to do. Donna Brunos, however, had pissed over his firework, as he put it to himself, and he wasn’t happy about it. He wasn’t happy about it at ah1.

Swallowing down his anger, he forced a smile. ‘I don’t think you understand, love …’

Donna pushed her hand through her hair in a gesture of utter weariness.

‘I am not your love, Mr Cox. Please don’t patronise me with useless terms of endearment which you probably use on the telephone to faceless operators and to your waitresses. I am a grown woman, in case it had escaped your notice. I came to you because my husband looked after your wife and children, probably with far greater respect than you are according his wife. He specifically asked me to be his go-between. I have no criminal record, not even a parking ticket. I have acumen, and I have bravado. I also have a terrible feeling that I don’t like you, Mr Cox, I don’t like you at all. That feeling is growing stronger by the second.’ ‘

Alan was aware that he had been bested. A feeling so alien,to him that”for a few seconds he wasn’t sure what to do.

Realising this, Donna stood up. Holding out her hand, she said, ‘I’m so glad we had this little chat. Now, when you are ready to talk business, I’ll expect to hear from you. I do hope you don’t hold grudges? I find that rather a tiresome trait in older men.’ Shaking his hand, she walked stiffly out of the restaurant.

Alan Cox sat back in his seat and watched her leave. Half of him wanted to catapult from the chair and clout a heavy hand across her face. The other half wanted to laugh. The laughter won. Alan prided himself on the fact he had never,

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them ever raised his hand to a woman. But Georgio Brunos’s little wife had very nearly made him break that vow.

On his dignity now, like Lally before him, he stood up and, as casually as possible, walked up the stairs to his office. In his small bathroom he looked at himself in the mirror. The jibe about the handmade suit and being a somebody had hit home. Basically an honest person, he knew that was why he was so angry. Why he had wanted to slap her.

He was fuming.

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Chapter Seventeen

Anthony Calder was a big man. He weight-trained every day of his life, shutting himself in his personal gym and working out all his stresses with the pumping of iron. His head was bullet-shaped, his hair grey and cut into a very short crewcut. His teeth were expensively capped, his complexion ruddy. His nose would have given W.C. Fields a run for his money.

Anthony was fifty-eight years old, with the body of a much younger man, the brain of an ancient, and a wife of twenty-two. He admitted to his ugliness every time he glanced in a mirror, his thick bull neck adding to his overall brutishness. Yet he knew he was attractive to women, always had been, and hopefully always would be. It was the sheer force of his strength and personality that drew them. He looked dangerous and, he admitted to himself occasionally, he was dangerous.

Anthony Calder was a fixer; he could fix anything. If a man needed a lighter prison sentence then Anthony Calder was his man. He knew every policeman worth knowing, from the Met to the Merseyside. He knew their prices, knew whom to approach and whom not to approach. He knew whether they wanted cash or holidays, whether they were gamblers or if their tastes ran to women or nice cars. It was his job, his career, and he gave it his all.

Calder was now a millionaire and he didn’t have to raise a finger in anger to anyone any more. Gone were the days when he was a paid heavy who would break an arm or a leg for a certain sum of money. His big chance had come when he made the acquaintance of Detective Inspector Billings from the Serious Crime Squad. Billings used Anthony as a go-between in a deal he was setting up with two notorious brothers who wanted suspended sentences instead of life terms. It was at this time he found he had a natural flair for negotiation.

DI Billings had written to the judge saying the brothers were narking for him, and that they were more use on the street than behind bars. The judge had given this careful consideration and, for

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them the princely sum of twenty-five thousand pounds per brother, had allowed them to walk from the court on suspended sentences. Anthony had done his job - and in so doing had found his vocation. Now Calder resided in a large leafy suburb in Chigwell with his little wife, his newborn daughter, and two large Dobermanns. He ran his business from home and socialised with both police and criminals. He was respected by all concerned, especially the police, who saw him as a way of subsidising meagre salaries.

Anthony was pleased with life, and he gave a grin of deep-felt satisfaction as he saw Alan Cox walking across his manicured lawn towards the gym annexe where he spent most of his day.

‘Hello, Alan, me old mate, long time no see.’ Anthony’s voice still had a thick cockney twang.

‘All right, Tone? You’re looking well.’

Anthony shook his hand. ‘What can I do you for then?’ The business was starting and Alan was aware of the fact. It was one of the things he liked about Anthony Calder: the preliminaries were few and far between.

‘I need a few whispers from you, me old son. I am in the throes of planning a little get-together with an old mate and I need the ear of a few Old Bill.’

Anthony replaced the heavy weight into its carriage and wiped his face and neck with a pristine white towel.

‘Where’s the setup?’

Alan smiled. The Isle of Wight.’

Anthony laughed then. ‘I see. Well, that’ll cost a few bob, but I expect you know that. Any particular face in mind?’

Alan sat down on a small bench and loosened his coat buttons. ‘I need your word on strict security. This could become very nasty.’

Calder shrugged. ‘I never open me mouth - you know that, Alan.’

‘Not even if it steps on Donald Lewis’s toes?’

Alan was aware of the big man’s shock.

‘What’s Lewis got to do with this?’

‘Nothing, Tony, and that’s how I want it to stay. I don’t want him to know anything. He owns most of the Old Bill on the Island, and I want to spring an old mate without Lewis sussing anything about it.’

Tony stared down at him for a moment. ‘That’s a dangerous proposition, Alan. It’ll cost you. Big money.’

‘I’m good for it, Tony, you know that. But I have one thing to tell you: if Lewis even gets a faint whiff that something’s going down, me and you are going to fall out, do you understand me?’

Tony nodded, serious now. ‘I hear what you’re saying. But you

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know that Lewis has his fingers in more fucking pies than little Jack Homer.’

Alan shrugged the,statement off. ‘That’s his prerogative. He’s a ponce and I don’t like him and he’s stepping on a dear friend of mine’s toes, which means he’s stepping right on one of my corns at the same time. So you tell me who to see and where to see them and I’ll do the actual negotiating. That way you’re not too involved.’

Anthony sighed deeply. “I’ll have to have a think about all this, mate. It’ll take some arranging.’

‘I’m well aware of that.’

Anthony was nonplussed for a few seconds.

‘I thought you was straight these days’, he said eventually. ‘I heard you was raking it in with legitimate businesses?’

Alan grinned. ‘I am. But like the old saying goes, yours is not to reason why. Especially where I’m concerned.’

He took a thick envelope from his inside pocket and placed it on the bench beside him.

There’s fifteen grand in there in fifty-pound notes. That’s just for starters. There’s plenty more where that came from. I want this arranged with the best of care and money’s no object, OK?’

Anthony picked up the envelope in his meaty fist and weigh’ed it in his hand before he answered.

‘Fair enough, but I must warn you, Alan, Lewis’s arm is long.’

Alan shook his head slowly.

‘And so, my dear Tony, is mine.’

j Donna had just emerged from the shower when the telephone rang.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello, Donna, just a quick call to let you know the books are ready for your perusal,’

‘Fine. I’ll be over about nine tonight.’

‘How’s Georgio?’

‘Bearinglip. Will you try and get in for a visit?’

Stephen’s voice was clipped. ‘It’s difficult, his VOs to me are few and far between. I expect you’re the one he wants to see.’

Donna felt the animosity coining in waves down the telephone. ‘I am his wife Stephen.’

‘Of course you are. It’s just I was supposed to be helping you run the businesses and now it seems you don’t want to know. I feel very upset at you checking up on me …’

Donna’s mouth was a perfect O as she listened to her brother-in law’s voice.

‘Checking up on you? Now come on, Stephen, I am just exercising

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them a right. I am a partner in your business, naturally I want a working knowledge of it.’ Donna’s voice was rising and she forced herself to calm down.

It was Stephen’s turn to sigh. ‘You own a twenty-five percent share, that’s all. I have the controlling interest. I think you have a bloody bare-faced cheek, to be honest, and I’m only humouring you because you are my brother’s wife. Now let’s drop the subject, shall

we?’

Donna was amazed to find he had put the phone down on her. Wrapping the thick pink towel tightly around her, she sat on the bed

in a daze.

Whatever was wrong with Stephen couldn’t simply be the fact that she wanted to see his books. She asked herself now why she was so adamant about seeing them. It didn’t really matter either way. But as she sat there, Donna realised exactly what was wrong with her, what had been wrong with her for a good while. She didn’t trust Stephen Brunos.

It was a startling revelation.

Hattie had listened patiently to Stephen’s ranting and now she shook her head sadly.

‘She’ll find out soon enough, and then it’ll be the worse for you and everyone concerned.’

Stephen forced a smile on to his face.

‘Nah, she won’t. None of them will. I’m too clever by half.’ He grinned to lighten the mood, but Hattie just shook her head once more.

‘No one’s that clever, and you’re playing with fire, my lad. You can’t run with the fox and hunt with the hounds. No one can.’

He stood up impatiently and kissed Hattie on the top of her head.

‘Stop worrying, Hat, I’m as safe as houses.’

Hattie sipped at her vodka and tonic. He was too handsome by half. All her life she had been a sucker for a pretty young man and she realised now that, even going into old age, she wasn’t going to change.

‘Does she know everything about Talkto Enterprises?’

‘No, she doesn’t, and there’s no reason why she should. Now I’ve got to go, Hats. I’ll pop in later tonight if you’re not too busy?’

Hattie couldn’t refuse him.

‘I’m never too busy for you.’

Smiling widely, he left and Hattie stood where she was in the centre of the room, brooding. He was playing a dangerous game. She only hoped it didn’t backfire on him.

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Donna walked into the Talkto offices at nine-thirty as arranged and was surprised to see no sign of Stephen, only a young woman in a tight black cocktail dress waiting for her. ‘Mrs Brunos?’ Donna nodded, smiling.

‘I’m Cathy Harper. Mr Brunos asked me to let you in. The books are here on this desk. Can I get you a cup of coffee?’

Donna nodded at the earnest young girl in front of her. Cathy was plastered in make-up, taking the edge away from her natural fresh-faced good looks. Her plump young body encased in a black beaded dress gave her an air of tartiness, and Donna wrinkled her nose at the overwhelming smell of Charlie perfume and fresh sweat.

She sat behind Stephen’s secretary’s desk, noticing that the rest of the offices were locked up and aware that this was a subtle insult to her. The girl plonked herself down on a settee and lit a cigarette. ‘Are you going to wait for me?’ Donna asked. She nodded absentmindedly. That’s what Mr Brunos said. He told me to let you in and to sit and wait until you’d finished. Then I was to let you out and lock the door behind me.’

Donna smiled once more. ‘Is he nearby, waiting for the keys to be delivered back?’

‘As far as I know, he’s still in the club in Wardour Street,’ the girl told her, ‘but he could have gone by now. I’ll just give the keys to Daragh.’ ‘Daragh?’ .

Cathy Harper smiled at the question in Donna’s voice. ‘Daragh O’Flynn. He’s an Irish bloke who runs the club for Mr Brunos, Funny name though, ain’t it? We all laugh at it - behind his back, of course.’

Donna laughed with the girl and said conspiratorially, ‘Of course.’ Cathy beamed, happy to find that the woman was fun. She had been wary of her mission, knowing that some of the people Mr Brunos dealt with were not exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayer, being rough, determined, and for the most part vicious. This pretty woman, with the chestnut hair and the subtle make-up, was like a breath of fresh ah-. Cathy settled herself further into the sofa and picked up a magazine.

Donna took her cigarettes out of her bag and lit one, slowly Savouring the smoke as it was drawn into her lungs.

‘Where do you work, Cathy?’ The question was innocent enough, but hinted that Donna knew more about the operations than she did.

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them ‘I work in the clubs and I do the peepshow on Mondays and Fridays. It’s easier for me like this, gives me a bit of time with the kids, like. I prefer the peeping to be honest. I ain’t got to actually do nothing and the money’s regular. In the club you can sit all night with some bloke and only come out of it with the hostess fee. Some of the customers are as mean as catshit, know what I mean?’

Donna nodded, looking as if she had been there once or twice herself. Cathy warmed to her even more.

‘What peepshow are you working in?’

-La Boheme, just off Dean Street. A right shithole it is and all. The smell! It’d knock you down, but you get used to it, like.’

‘You work there for Stephen … Mr Brunos?’

Cathy nodded. ‘I’ve worked for Brunos since I was nineteen. He ain’t too bad, none of them are. But I expect you know that, being married to one yourself.’

Donna felt that she was only being treated as she was by this girl because her name was Brunos. She spoke the name with respect. Donna smiled again.

‘How about that coffee?’ She took a ten-pound note from her bag. ‘I’d also like a cheeseburger. Would you mind nipping round to McDonald’s?’

Cathy took the proffered money and hesitated for only a second. Mr Brunos had told her not to leave the office while this woman was looking over the books.

Donna saw -her hesitate, and pulling out another ten-pound note, she gave it to the girl, saying, ‘No one need know you left me here, and I’m dying for a cup of coffee and something to eat.’

The girl snatched the other ten-pound note and left the offices. Donna smiled as she saw the keys still on the settee where Cathy had left them. Getting up from her chair, she stubbed out her cigarette, picked up the keys and let herself into Stephen’s office. Turning on the lamp on his desk, she began going through his drawers, looking for anything that might catch her eye. She was certain now that Stephen was hiding something from her, and she also had a premonition that whatever it was, he was hiding it from Georgio as well. She couldn’t put a finger on why she felt as she did, it was just a gut reaction. Stephen was acting out of character. Maybe it was because she’d found out that his business dealings were not strictly kosher, maybe it embarrassed him, but she didn’t think so.

Pulling on the last drawer in the desk, Donna was met with resistance. T”aking the keys, she tried two before the drawer lock clicked open. Lying at the bottom of the drawer were two black bound ledgers. Picking them up, Donna stiffened. Seating herself

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behind the desk, she began looking through them.

Twenty minutes later when Cathy arrived back breathlessly with a couple of cheeseburgers and a large Polystyrene cup of coffee, Donna was once more in the outer office, looking over the books left out for her by Stephen. Cathy was aware that Mrs Brunos had something on her mind; she wasn’t as chatty as she had been. ,

Locking up after the visitor, Cathy made her way to O’Flynn and after a gram of amphetamine felt much better. By eleven o’clock Donna was gone from her mind.