Sarah, never one to keep quiet, did her share of lecturing.
Russell put himself in charge of her security at work like some sort of self-appointed bodyguard – he was considering how to accessorize aMen in Blacktheme, and whether this in fact required the purchase of a new pair of designer sunglasses.
They cut the cake. They threw the cake away. (The top was black the middle still liquid.)
And all the while Katie kept rubbing absently at her chest, wondering when the feeling of emptiness would abate.
*Igam ogam –Welsh term fora line or path that proceeds by sharp turns in alternate directions.
Chapter 11
Put a bloody tarp down for the wet work
Daniel Baxter looked out over the seething mass of bodies on the dance floor. Their frantic movements were out of time with the classical music he had playing in the background, but then his office was completely soundproof. Just because a large part of his income stream was built from the drugs that fuelled most of the people below and their love of the tuneless chaos that surrounded them, didn’t mean that he had to put up with it himself. His lip curled as he reached for his glass of whiskey. The mindless, soulless masses disgusted him. He was glad to milk them dry for all he could; make them pay him for their drugs, their sex; their very existence.
‘Boss?’ Daniel turned towards Carl, who was hovering at the entrance to his office, and winced as a wave of sound came through the open doorway.
‘Close the door, you fuckwit,’ he barked, before slamming back his whiskey. ‘Any luck with our … guest?’
‘Not yet, sir, but we’re working on it now,’ Carl told him, walking across the room to stand next to Daniel at the window. ‘I’ve …’ Carl paused and Daniel watched him swallow nervously. Jesus, this guy was supposed to be his second in command – why was everyone he worked with such a pussy? ‘I’ve got some more … I mean you said that you wanted to know if she …’
Daniel sighed. ‘Just fucking hand them over and go get our guest in here,’ he snapped, his hand tightening on his glass.
Once Carl had rushed out, Daniel carefully placed the envelope to the side. It could wait until he’d dealt with this latest piece of scum. His life was full of darkness and filth and the dregs of humanity. He’d been swimming through the same shit for years, swearing to himself that once he’d amassed enough power, enough money, he’d leave it all behind. Once that happened he’d be free to claim her.Thenshe wouldn’t leave him, not that he planned on giving her much of a choice, but still, he’d be good and clean and right, the same as she was – that would change her mind. After a time he had no doubt that she could wash away his sins, she could bring him into the light. With her help maybe he could even reclaim his soul.
‘Uh … boss,’ Carl said, grunting with effort as he and Frank lugged in a large man who was significantly worse for wear than when he had strode into the club confidently to meet Daniel that evening.
‘So,’ Daniel began, his bored tone indicating just how tiresome he found this whole scenario – tiresome but necessary – ‘I wonder if we understand each other now, Gregoski?’
‘’Uck ew,’ the man gargled through his split lips, staring at Daniel defiantly with the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. Daniel looked at Carl and jerked his chin.
‘Omph!’ He watched dispassionately as the man’s head fell forward onto his knees, clutching at his stomach, which had just received Carl’s punch.
‘Fucking hell, Carl,’ Daniel barked as the man spat blood onto his Persian rug. ‘How many times do I have to tell you to put a bloody tarp down for the wet work?’
‘S-sorry boss,’ Carl started, looking down nervously at the rug. ‘Shall I –’
‘Forget it, you useless piece of shit,’ Daniel snapped, his eyes focusing on the man in the chair in front of him and for the first time displaying real anger and not just indifference. ‘Fuck it, the rug’s ruined anyway,’ he muttered, his hand going into the top draw of his desk.
Both Carl and Frank took a hasty step back from the man in the chair just before the chair flew back with the force of the gunshot to the man’s head. The silencer made sure that no sound would escape the room.
‘Well,’ Daniel said, putting the gun back in the drawer and closing it slowly. ‘That sorts that out. Tell Taylor that he’s got a promotion. From now on he’ll be managing this guy’s stable as well as the distribution side for his territory.’
Carl and Frank stood stock still for a moment. Daniel rolled his eyes.
‘Well?’ he said impatiently. ‘Get rid of this fucking mess.’
‘But … but boss … we …’ Carl scratched his head, obviously flummoxed. In truth Daniel didn’t really blame him. Disposing of a corpse was tricky at the best of times; usually Daniel would only really do this somewhere where the disposal wasn’t an issue. Unfortunately over the last eighteen months control had become a problem. Having to tolerate another man touching his property was not conducive to his sanity. He wasn’t sure if it was the reminders he had started sending her or something else that had put a stop to it, but the anger he felt still lingered.
He had of course been tempted to just sort the problem out permanently, but the guys who managed most of his wet work were quick to point out that whilst ending a drug-dealing pimp in south London who nobody gave a fuck about may be doable, offing a doctor with family and friends was more of a challenge. Anyway, that relationship was history before it even began, and Daniel had started to relax again. But it had brought home the fact that he couldn’t wait forever, so he’d decided that he’d carry on with the reminders – somewhat of a warning in case she thought she could pull that kind of a stunt again.
Once reinforcements had arrived and the body had been rolled in his favourite fucking Persian rug and lugged out of the room, Daniel reached for the envelope, but was interrupted when Carl sidled back into the room.
‘What now?’ he asked, running his hand through his hair in frustration.
‘One of the girls in the Clapham house is pregnant, sir,’ Carl said. ‘I don’t know how it happened; we’re always careful to depot them on arrival, and regular as clockwork once they’re there; she must have slipped through the net.’
Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to breathe slowly to contain his temper. ‘Chuck her out then, put her on a flight home.’ Why he had to micro-manage every aspect of his many business interests he didn’t know, he certainly paid people enough to deal with these unpleasant details themselves. ‘Now, if that’s everything, Carl, would you please, please fuck off.’
