‘Because, Donna, the boxes I moved outside for Paddy to pick up
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them were addressed to Georgio Brunos. They had a Liverpool postmark.’
‘That doesn’t mean anything …’
‘If they were addressed to him, then he must have known about them. He had visited Sri Lanka just before, Donna. If you look through these books, all the children are foreign - either Indian looking or Thai. Now Stephen’s going out there, isn’t he, after you get a fax saying they’re stopping the shipping?’
Donna stared at Dolly, trying to take in what the older woman was saying. As the meaning hit her she began to shake her head.
‘Never, not in a million years, no way. Not my Georgio. It’s that piece of slime, Stephen. Stephen the woman-seller, the pimp, that’s who’s behind this little lot, Dolly. My Georgio hates anything to do with sex-offenders. Remember how he used to carry on about them, and rapists as well? He wouldn’t be caught up in all this, I know he wouldn’t. He never even so much as had a blue film in our home. I can’t, won’t believe he knew anything about this.’
Dolly sighed and lit herself another cigarette from the butt of her previous one.
‘Well, Donna, it came from somewhere. If the police had found these …’ She left the sentence unfinished.
Donna stood up and paced the kitchen floor.
‘That’s it! Maybe Georgio knew nothing. Perhaps Big Paddy was just using this place as a pick-up point. The dirty bastard! Bringing that filth into my home!’
Dolly watched Donna for a few moments before she said, ‘But Paddy has no interests in Sri Lanka or in Thailand, as far as we know anyway. Lewis and Georgio were in that partnership, and knowing Lewis like I do, this doesn’t surprise me about him at all. To be honest, I’m not so sure it surprises me about Georgio either. Not now.’
Donna turned on Dolly like a vixen.
‘Don’t you dare cast aspersions on my husband like that, Dolly. I will not have it, do you hear me? Georgio is a sod, God knows I’ve had to accept that myself over the last year, but this! Never. I’d stake the next ten years of my life on that.’
She stopped her pacing and lit a cigarette.
‘Did you say computer discs earlier? There were boxes of discs?’
Dolly nodded.
Donna closed her eyes.
‘They’re still at it, Dolly,’ she said in a voice that shook. ‘It is Stephen.’
She ran from the room to Georgio’s office and grabbed the floppy disc she had slipped out of the box in the car lot.
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They’re still at it, even now, and Davey Jackson is involved as well.’
She laughed with relief.
‘It’s not my Georgio. I knew it couldn’t be. I knew even he would never stoop that low.’
Then she cried.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Donna sat in front of Georgio’s computer. It was a large Gateway 2000, and over the past few months she had begun to use it occasionally for letters and invoices to do with the businesses. Now, it had taken on a sinister feel. The office too had a dark quality she had never noticed before. She turned the computer on and put in the start-up disc, listening to the familiar whirrs and scrapes with heightened awareness as the computer read the disc’s information.
Dolly stood behind her, her breathing loud in the room. Once the index was displayed, Donna took the disc from her and loaded it.
‘Get us a large scotch, Dolly, I think we might both need one.’
Dolly slipped from the room and Donna stared at the computer screen, flickering eerily in the dim office.
The disc menu was on display and Donna studied it intently.
MESSAGES
GIRLS AND BOYS COME OUT TO PLAY
BABIES IN THE WOODS
BOYS ONLY
GIRLS ONLY
Donna felt a sick sensation in her stomach. Directing the mouse to MESSAGES she pressed Enter. The screen cleared and a letter appeared before her, just as Dolly trotted back into the room.
‘Here’s your drink, love.’
Donna stared at the screen as Dolly placed the whisky beside her on the desk.
‘What’s that all about?’ She read the letter out loud.
Greetings,
All work’s on time and ahead of schedule. Germany is ready, Maldives have received modem line. Can soon distribute to Liverpool, and bypass London altogether.
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This new batch is probably best ever.
Getting hang of it all now. New bloke working out fine.
Give my regards to everyone at The Black Dog and tell them I’ll be
over soon.
Candy.
Dolly and Donna stared at the screen intently, as if it was going to talk and answer their unasked questions. Donna exited from the letter and the index returned to the screen.
Dolly’s voice was high as she said, ‘BOYS AND GIRLS COME OUT TO PLAY? What the fuck kind of message is that?’
Donna placed the mouse beside the message and pressed Enter. ‘Well, we’ll soon find out, won’t we?’
The screen cleared. The few seconds of whirring as the machine read its memory were agonising and then a large message appeared on screen:
BOYS AND GIRLS COME OUT TO PLAY!
Donna pressed the page-turner and immediately a picture appeared before them. It was in full colour and was also strikingly clear.
It showed a girl of around ten years old in a school uniform, a tight, short-skirted school uniform. The girl was Asian, with thick dark hair in pigtails and grotesque make-up: red lips and heavy blue eyeshadow. She held up the hem of the skirt to display her vagina and belly button. She was smiling out at them and Dolly took a step backwards in shock.
‘Holy Mary, Mother of Christ. I didn’t know you could put pictures on these things!’
Donna turned the pages. Little boys were displayed, then girls and boys together, in disgusting poses with one another. Girls with girls and boys with boys. It wasn’t until the twentieth page that men appeared.on the screen, and always their faces were not visible. It was either the back of their head, or else their face was obscured by a child’s leg or arm.
Dolly picked up Donna’s drink and placed it in her hands. ‘How do they do this, Donna? I never knew they could do this.’
Donna took a large gulp of her scotch and sighed. ‘The technology now is amazing, Dolly. If my guess is right, they’re sending this down a phone line. It’s just the next step from a phone call, really. The keyboard is the dial and the telephone receiver is the screen. It’s like making a visual phonecall. The graphics are brilliant nowadays, as you can see.’
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them ‘So Georgio was using this computer to bring the stuff into the country?’
Donna shook her head. ‘You can do this anywhere, Dolly, on any compatible PC.’
‘Well, I think there’s something fishy going on here with all of them,’ Dolly said fiercely. ‘Davey Jackson, Georgio, the lot of ‘em.’ Donna gulped at her scotch. That’s what I have to find out, isn’t it?’ she said bitterly.
Dolly sighed. ‘How are you going to do that, girl? Ask your man himself?’
Donna pushed her hair back off her face and said seriously, ‘No, Dolly, I wouldn’t accuse Georgio of this unless I had the proof and I haven’t any proof at all he was involved in any of it.’
Dolly snorted through pursed lips. ‘What the hell more do you want, my girl? You’re blinkered where he’s concerned, do you know that?’
‘The Message file on here said “Give my regards to everyone at The Black Dog”. Well, The Black Dog is one of the holdings I own with Stephen through Talkto. I will pull the address from the files and go and find out what I can from there.’
Dolly was annoyed. ‘You won’t have anything said against him, will you, Donna? Can’t you see that he has to be in on all this, eh? Are you telling me it was going on behind his back then?’
‘I don’t know, Dolly, but I can find out,’ Donna said desperately. ‘And until I know for certain then I’ll take it my husband, the man you supposedly love like a son, is innocent. I can’t accept that Georgio would have anything to do with this lot. I know him better than anybody, Dolly. Better than you or Stephen or anyone.’
‘Yeah, you knew him so well he was masterminding bank robberies behind your back—’
Donna interrupted. ‘No, Dolly, you don’t understand. I know his heart better than anyone, and he would no more have anything to do with all this than you or I would. It’s Stephen and Davey Jackson who are the culprits here.’
Dolly’s belly laugh surprised her. Turning the chair away from the screen Donna said vehemently, ‘My God, Dolly, you’ve changed your tune.’
Dolly’s face was grey in the muted light of the computer screen, and suddenly Donna saw how old she really was, the deep lines around her eyes and mouth emphasised by the pale light.
‘Maybe I have, Donna, but I’ve a terrible presentiment in me bones that you’re going to find out things you never dreamt of before, couldn’t have imagined in your wildest dreams in fact, and they’ll all
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boil down to one person - Georgio.’.
Donna turned the computer off and the room was dark. Opening the curtains, she turned on Dolly and said, clearly and heavily, ‘You watch your mouth, lady, before your find yourself out of a home and a job.’
Then she walked from the room, leaving Dolly staring behind her.
Edna McVee was a big girl, a very big buxom girl, and she knew her worth. She made that quite apparent as she took a toke on her joint and said loudly, ‘Bollocks, Henry. I get a tenner a time or I go somewhere else.’
Henry, a small-boned Maltese man with a pencil-thin moustache and handmade shoes, weighed up in his mind his chances against Edna without a blade. He sighed deeply as he realised she would probably kill him.
‘Fair enough, you fat slag,’ he said nastily. ‘But I want a good show, right, and the touchers pay me first. Deal?’
Edna smiled and it transformed her face magically. Under the thick make-up and backcombed blonde hair you could see her youth and prettiness shine through for a few short seconds.
The touchers pay me, Henry, remember?’ she sneered.
‘I ain’t being funny, mate, but you’re getting greedy, and if you get too greedy we’ll all leave eventually. This ain’t the only shithole in London, you know.’
Henry bowed in the face of adversity and sixteen stone of young womanhood before him and smiled craftily.
‘Get your fat arse in the booth then, we’ve got customers waiting.’
Edna stood up in all her heavy glory, the silk basque she was wearing straining to keep her size forty-six double D breasts in place, and waltzed from the small office and out to her booth. Edna knew she was popular. The men liked the big girls, with big breasts and thighs and rounded white arses. She knew her worth and she made sure she got it. It was as if the bigger she was, the more they felt they were getting for their money.
Henry watched her swagger out and grinned to himself. He had to hand it to Edna. She was one of the few toms he knew who could actually look after herself. She never touched hard drugs, just a bit of puff, and never drank alcohol while performing. In reality, he wished he had a few more like her, but Edna McVees were rare in the peeping game. Most were smacked out of their heads, otherwise they couldn’t do the job, and he admitted to himself that he would Jiave to
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them be in a fucking coma himself before he could do anything even remotely like it.
Whistling now, he left the office and went downstairs to the small bar area. The bar was illegal really, they had no licence, but as it was only for members he didn’t worry too much about it. The men and the occasional woman who used The Black Dog were after that little bit extra and he supplied it. Or tried to anyway.
The smoke hit him as he walked into the bar and he coughed slightly.
‘Put the fan on, Carrie, for fuck’s sake. What you trying to do, choke the fucking punters!’
Carrie laughed as she flicked the ancient switch to the ceiling fan and said loudly, ‘No, Henry, they pay to choke me normally!’
He laughed good-humouredly at the joke and his astute eyes roamed around the small cellar room. As usual it was filled with City gents, with the odd working man here and there. Early evening, which in Soho was until eleven o’clock, always saw the same clientele. Men who had homes to go to, and wives and kids to see.
He walked through the bar and into another cellar room. Here were the brocade curtains that separated the small pallets that passed for beds. During the evening the beds, twenty-six in all, would be in full use over and over again. He smiled as he thought of the money and rubbed his hands together unconsciously. He wrinkled his nose at the sour smell and went back into the bar area, leaving the door open as a signal to the people working there that the night was beginning.
Immediately a man stood up with a transvestite boy of about sixteen and slipped through the open doorway.
Carrie ticked a small X on a chalk board behind the counter. The evening was on its way and she knew that she had to keep a keen eye out from now on. The number of workers who tried to slip one in without paying the house was getting ridiculous. Whistling once more, Henry went back upstairs to the peep booths. He walked into a small booth and put his hanky up to his mouth to stop the smell of semen and sweat making him gag. Treading warily, so as not to ruin his good suede shoes, he popped a fifty-pence piece into the small opening before him.
A grid went up and looking through he saw Stella, an old professional at the peepshow game, gyrating around on a stool. She was tall, thin, and wearing nothing but a small G-string. Satisfied that she was doing her job, he opened the money box with a key and emptied out the fifty pences into a bag he kept in his pocket.
The smell was disgusting and as he locked the money box once
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1
more, he walked out, crying at the top of his voice, ‘Sid, wash this fucking place down. It smells like a Turkish wrestler’s jockstrap!’
Sid, an old man in his seventies, wheezed towards him, smiling, with mop and bucket.
‘I’m going as fast as I can, Henry. It’s been really busy today.’
Henry laughed. ‘Don’t give me that, Siddy, you dirty old git. If you spent as much time washing the booths as you did wanking in them, we’d have a clean bill of health in no time. Now this is your last warning, old man. Keep the booths clean, right, or you’re out!’
Siddy pulled out the mop and washed over the small wooden seat in the booth, then he mopped the floor. Unlike Henry, the smell didn’t bother him. He had lived with that smell day and night for nearly thirty-five years.
Wiping his shoes with a clean white handkerchief, Henry’s eyes widened in amazement as he saw a small striking-looking woman standing in the doorway. Turning on all his oily charm he said in his best imitation of Bob Hoskins, ‘Can I help you, love?’
Donna looked at the small man’s white teeth and Armani suit and smiled widely.
‘Henry Pratt, I presume?’
He grinned again and said, ‘Well, I ain’t Doctor fucking Livingstone, love. What are you after?’
Donna walked towards him and said gently, ‘I am after you actually. I’m Donna Brunos. Stephen asked me to keep an eye on things while he’s on vacation.’ Henry liked the vacation part of her answer, to him it spoke of sophistication and poise, but he still didn’t trust her. Henry didn’t trust his own mother; it was inbred in him riot to trust anyone.
‘Well, he never said nothing to me, love.’
Donna forced her smile to remain in place as she answered him. ‘As I own twenty-five percent of this business I don’t think he need tell you anything, Mr Pratt. Now I want a drink and a looksee and then I’ll tell you what I’m here for, shall I?’
Henry wiped his tongue around his teeth and then shrugged. ‘Suit yourself, but I need proof of who you are, darling. I can’t let any Tom, Dick or Harry mooch around the place. You could be Old Bill, darling, though you ain’t got their usual smell if you’ll excuse the personal remark.’
Donna opened her briefcase and took out a file from her Talktp portfolio, handing it to him along with her driving licence.
Henry glanced at them perfunctorily and then said, ‘Should have brought along a wedding photo, only in all the years I’ve been here I ain’t never seen you before, lady.’
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them Donna snatched back the file and said, ‘My husband was never doing an eighteen-stretch before. Now if you want to phone Big Paddy, I’m sure he’ll verify who I am.’
Donna’s heart was beating in her chest for fear that Henry might decide to do just that. Then on an inspiration she said, ‘Or I’ll tell you what. Suppose I nip round the corner and get Alan Cox? Will that be enough proof of who I am for you?’
She saw his face blanch and smiled gently to herself.
‘It’s no trouble, I can easily bring him here,’ she went on. ‘I run all Georgio’s businesses now, even his businesses with Alan Cox, so don’t worry about putting him out. He’ll understand.’