Beauty and the Dark (18 page)

Jack

M
y phone rings. It’s Guy.

“Yes,” I reply.

“There’s not much I could find. He has a brothel here in London, but as far as everyone knows he is still in Belgium. I have people working flat out to try and find out more.”

“Okay, let me know if you get any more information.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“Not yet. Call the police if I don’t contact you by the morning.”

“Jack, what are you planning?”

“I haven’t got time to explain, Guy.”

“Do you need me to do anything?”

“No. Just come around in the morning and take Mika back to Lena if you don’t hear from me by then. I’ll leave the key under the mat. I’ve got another call coming through, I’ve got to go.”

I get rid of Guy and accept Noah’s call.

“Tell me,” I say, walking into my bedroom.

“There are at least two pitbulls and a rottweiler patrolling the grounds, and three to four highly trained men on the premises at any given time. Business doesn’t pick up until a bit later so there will be girls, but probably no more than one or two johns for the next couple of hours. There is a closed-circuit security system and cameras in every room. The chance of you getting in and out alive are zero.” 

I let the comment pass, kill the call, and phone my friend Harry, the vet. We went to school together. I haven’t seen him in years, but he used to hero worship me. He was a grade A kid and I was the cool gangster.

“JackfuckingIrish,” he says. “What’s going on with you, my man?”

“Are you still at work?” I ask as I strip my wet clothes off.

“I’m married to the job, man,” he says with a laugh.

“Can I come around for some supplies?”

“Supplies?”

“Tell you when I get there.”

“Mi casa, Su casa,” he says with a laugh.

I cut the connection and call my mother.

“What you doing, Ma,” I ask as I grab a towel and start drying myself.

“Cleaning the downstairs cupboard. You won’t believe the rubbish I’ve been hoarding. I’ve still got stuff from your schooling days.”

“Yeah?” I can almost see her. Wearing her apron and her blue rubber gloves. Her hair tied back in a scarf.

“Did the stew turn out good?” she asks.

My hand clenches. “I don’t know. It’s not ready yet.”

“Did she manage to get the chocolate?”

My heart contracts. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. It’s a good thing I remembered in time.”

“Thanks for helping Sofia, Ma.” I throw the wet towel into the washing basket and, naked, head for the cupboard.

“Awww. I love that girl. When are you going to put a ring on her finger?”

I swallow the lump. “As soon as I can, Ma. As soon as I can.”

“She’s a good girl.”

I die a little inside at the injustice of life. “I got to go now, Ma. I just called to see that you were all right and to thank you for everything.”

“Thank me for what?”

“For being so kind to Sofia. For treating her like your own daughter.”

“Don’t be talking nonsense now,” she says gruffly.

“Bye, Ma.”

“Bye son.”

“Ma?”

“I love you.”

“Oh, Jack. I love you too.”

I terminate the call and open my wardrobe door. My last will and testament is all in order, and everything will go to her. She will be a rich woman. Not that she will want it. I guess she can give it all away.

A text comes through. It’s a photo of Valdislav. I look at him, my stomach filling with acid. Hate surges into me. I stare at him for a moment longer. The sly eyes, the self-satisfied smirk. We will meet soon, you sick bastard. Very soon. Then we’ll see how you smirk.

Then I click out of it. My hands are completely steady and I feel utterly focused on my mission.

I dial Lana’s number, and putting the phone down, step into a pair of underpants.

“Hi, Jack,” she says brightly.

I sit on the bed and pull on my socks. I’m always going to love this woman. Always. “Hey, Lana. I just wanted you to know that I’ll always love you. You’re truly the sister I never had.”

She laughs. “You’re getting soft in the head, Irish. What’s all this in aid of?”

“Nothing. Sometimes it’s good to tell people what they mean to you.”

“Well, you know exactly how I feel about you.”

“I do, Lana. Anyway, is Sorab there?”

“Right here, actually, but before I put him on, want to do dinner together next week? The four of us?”

My voice doesn’t falter. “Sure, why not.”

“Okay. I’ll arrange something and liaise with Sofia.”

“Fine.”

“Bye, Jack. Here is your godson now.”

“Hello, Uncle Jack.” His voice is bright and full of life.

“Hello, Dragon Slayer.”

“Are you coming over tonight, Uncle Jack?”

“Not tonight, but I hope you’re being a good boy.”

“I am,” he says instantly. “Uncle Jack?” His voice is full of excitement.

“Yeah.”

“I’m getting a dog tomorrow from the Rescue Center.”

“Wow! That’s brilliant.”

“He’s only got three legs, but he chose me. He came up to me and licked my hand, and I knew he was for me.”

For the strangest reason my eyes burn with tears. “What are you going to call him?”

“I’m going to call him Jack Double.”

I close my eyes. Sorab will show this world how it is done. I will die happy knowing that a child like him exists in this world. If my only legacy will be to lend my name to a three-legged dog belonging to him, I am content.

“I’ve got to go, Sorab, but I want you to always remember that I’m so proud of you.”

“Nite nite, Uncle Jack.”

“Goodbye, Sorab.”

Quickly, I get into a black turtle neck jumper and trousers. I pull my sneakers out from the bottom of my cupboard and lace them up. They are more silent than ordinary shoes.

Next, I go to my drawer and take out the knife I’ve had since I was a kid. Noah thinks I’m taking a knife to a gun fight, but not many people can do with a gun what I can with a knife. I slip it into the back of my jeans waistband. There is also another smaller knife in the drawer. I slip that into my right sock.

Going into the kitchen, I fish out the half-cooked meat from the stew, ladle the pieces into a plastic bag, and tie the top securely. Opening the fridge, I take out the expensive bottle of champagne that Sofia was saving for Valentine’s day. I stuff the bottle and the meat into a shopping bag.

With Mika following closely behind, I go into the living room. I pick up my phone and look up the address of Valdislav’s brothel on Google Maps. It is at the end of the road in a residential area. Navigating around the neighborhood, I find that the house opposite seems to be built in exactly the same design.

I leave the key under the mat and go out to meet my fate.

Jack

H
arry’s practice is not far from Victoria Station, so I get there quite quickly using the same bully boy method I employed earlier. I don’t see any traffic wardens so I brazenly park on the sidewalk outside his premises and dash inside.

He takes me to his office.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“I haven’t got the time to explain, Harry.”

“Fine. What do you need?”

“I need tranquilizers. Give me enough to put four men down.”

His eyebrows shoot up into his receding hairline. “Whoa. What have you got yourself involved in?”

My impatience must have flashed in my eyes because he lifts his hands up, palms facing me and backs off. “Don’t eat me. I’ll go get them for you.”

“Have you got a tranquilizer gun?”

This time he turns around and stares at me. “Are you serious?”

“I need to take down at least three dogs. Two pitbulls and one rottie.”

He shakes his head as if he just can’t believe what he is hearing, then nods. “Yeah, I’ll get it for you.”

He brings them to me and gives me a quick demo on how to use the gun. He hands me the tranquilizer injections. “Use them with care. Each one is enough to bring down a very small horse or a very big man.”

I slip them into my jacket pocket. “Thanks. Now can I have your coat and a nametag if you have one lying around?”

Wordlessly, he roots around in one of his drawers and finds a nametag. He takes off his white coat and gives both items to me.

I take the coat and pin the nametag on it. “Do you have a clipboard and pen?”

He puts both his hands up again as if he has quit trying to figure out what is happening and goes to a back room. He comes back with a clipboard and pen.

I take them from him and cast my eyes on the things on his table top. “Thanks. One last thing. Can I have an A4 paper with some lines or boxes on it. Something that looks like a form.”

He doesn’t say anything, just returns to the room at the back and comes back with a stack of forms with boxes, words and lines on it.

“Oh, and either your credit card machine or a calculator.”

“No way man. I need my credit card machine, but you can have my calculator. It’s out front at reception,” he says, leading the way there. He reaches behind the counter and comes up with a medium sized calculator. If I’m lucky it will do.

“Brilliant. Thanks. I owe you one, Harry,” I say.

“You owe me at least five,” he says.

I push open his glass door and see a stony-faced traffic warden writing a ticket for my car. I run to my car and jump into it.

“Once I have issued the ticket you still have to pay it,” he hollers as I roar off.

The journey to Tower Bridge takes me just under half an hour, even with me blaring my horn and acting like a total jerk.

I park the car, take my jacket off and get into Harry’s white coat. Buttoning it up, I take the clipboard and the calculator, and stride confidently to the end of the road. I don’t even glance at the house I am interested in. Instead, I walk to the house opposite. Thank god, there are lights on. Through the window I can see three kids sitting at a table doing their homework. I ring the bell.

A woman answers the door.  “Yes?” she asks with a frown.

I look down at my clipboard first then up at her. “Good evening, Madam. There has been a gas leak in the area, and I’d like to check that your house has not been affected.” I wave my calculator at her.

She stops frowning and looks alarmed. “Of course,” she says, stepping back and opening the door wider.

Until this moment I never imagined it was going to be this easy. I didn’t really believe the article I read that most people are so reassured with badges of authority that they would even let anyone with a clipboard or a uniform into their house without checking their identity first.

“Thank you,” I say, stepping into her hallway. “This won’t take long, and you can follow me around the house for your peace of mind.”

“All right,” she agrees immediately.

I angle the calculator so that she can only see the back of it, and start walking around her house. I note the cloakroom on my left and go into an open plan living room. The kids look up at me curiously. Holding my calculator aloft I smile politely at them and quickly walk through the room past the dining table towards the sliding glass doors.

“Can I open them?” I ask the woman.

“Of course,” she says, and rushes to open it for me.

I step out into the garden and observe the measurements. I re-enter the house through the kitchen door. It’s not big, but there is a side door which leads to a small pantry. I walk into the corridor that leads back to the reception rooms and the front door. There is another door to my right. I open it and find a smaller reception room. I go into it with my calculator held up high, look at it, press a few buttons, and turn around to smile at the woman.

“So far so good,” I proclaim.

She smiles back, relieved. I go upstairs with the woman following me anxiously and note the exact layout of the house while pretending to monitor the gas levels.

I turn to look at her. “Looks like all is well with your house.”

She appears happy.

“I’ll be off then.”

She follows me to the front door, and fucking thanks me for the privilege of casing her house before closing the door. If I make it through this, I’ll send her a note and tell her never to let a stranger with a clipboard into her house again.

I glance at the opposite house as I walk back to my car. There are lights on in it. I chuck the clipboard into the well of the front seat and, taking off my coat, I slip quickly into my black jacket. I check that my tranquilizer injections are still in the pocket. Then I stuff the tranquilizer gun into the waistband of my jeans, take the bag with the meat and champagne, and set off down the road.

I walk around the wall of the house. When I get to the position where I cannot be seen from the road, I throw the meat over the wall and wait for the dogs to smell it.

The two pitbulls come almost instantly. They must be starving because they growl and snap at each other in their race to gobble down the fresh meat. The rottie is next to arrive. It joins in the foray.

Lifting myself over the wall I take aim and shoot. The rottie first because it is the biggest. It whines and jumps back in shock. The pitbulls carry on eating. I land back on the ground and reload. One after the other I get the pitbulls. Then I hang around for about ten minutes while the darts take effect.

The rottie is still growling softly when I jump into the enemy’s yard.