Ruthless (31 page)

‘Trade good?’ she asked.

‘Trade? What trade?’

‘The
knocking
trade.’

‘Don’t know what you mean.’

‘Don’t you? Only I reckon this is a whorehouse, am I right?’

Moira looked from Annie to Tony and back again.

‘I don’t want no trouble,’ she said.

‘And you won’t get it, not from me. You know Rufus – friend of Dickon’s? Does he come here? Seeing the girls? Visiting Dickon maybe?’

‘I think you ought to leave.’

‘I think you’d better answer the question,’ said Annie.

Moira glanced at Tony.

‘Tone, why don’t you give us a moment,’ said Annie. ‘Wait in the car, yeah?’

Tony gave Moira a look and went outside into the hall, shutting the door behind him. They heard the front door open, then close.

‘Now it’s just us girls, how about a straight answer?’ Annie suggested, pulling out her purse. ‘Can I square up Dickon’s rent for you?’

Moira’s eyes were on the purse. Her tongue flicked out, moistening her lips. ‘Yeah, that’d be good.’

‘OK, I’ll do that. In fact, I’ll double it. Two hundred sovs. Just tell me if you’ve seen Rufus.’

‘What you think I am, some sort of grass?’ Moira sneered, coming in close to Annie. Moira was bigger than her, by six inches. And wider by a mile.

Annie stared at her steadily. ‘You want to answer the question?’

‘Tell you what – I don’t.’

Overhead, some ancient bedsprings were getting a workout.

Moira stepped in even closer; she snatched the purse from Annie’s hand, and started rifling through it.

‘Think I’ll just take the two hundred,’ she said, a twisted smile on her face.

‘I don’t think you should,’ said Annie.

‘Oh yeah? What you going to do about it?’

Annie brought her hand up out of her pocket, flicking the metal kiyoga open. She hit Moira’s nose with it, and Moira collapsed to the floor. Blood gushed out like a torrent. Moira started babbling. Annie knelt down and grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her bloodied face back with a yank.

‘
Shut up,
’ she said sharply. ‘Keep yapping and you’ll get another one. Now, unless you fancy spending the next decade in a dentist’s chair – Rufus Malone. You seen him in here?’

Moira burbled something.

‘Speak up,’ said Annie, shaking the woman’s head around like a marionette’s.

‘I
said
he’s been in here,’ Moira sobbed. ‘My fucking
nose.’

‘Describe him.’

‘Um . . . well he’s big, and he’s got this curly red hair. He visited a couple of the girls for a shag, got his old man polished up and then fed them stupid lines about weekends in Paris. Oh shit, that
hurts.
Silly cunts believed him, too, until they compared notes.’

Annie stood up.

‘Where’s Rufus now?’ she asked the woman at her feet.

‘I don’t know. God’s honest, I don’t,’ said Moira, blood all down her front and dripping on her hands as she pawed at her face.

‘You better not. I find you’ve been lying to me, I’m coming back.’

‘I
don’t know.
’

Annie counted off two hundred, dropped the notes on the carpet. Then she put the kiyoga back in her pocket, went to the door, sent a sweet smile to the man sitting at the end of the hall, and left the building to report back to Max and Alberto.

69

‘Is that it, do you think?’ Precious wondered aloud, linking an arm through Layla’s.

They were standing outside Rigby & Peller, bristling with a ton of bags. They’d been in there over an hour, and Layla had been hoiked about, measured, assessed, and fitted out with more underwear than seemed strictly necessary. She’d been wearing the wrong bra size since puberty, she now realized. Her bras had flattened her breasts instead of accentuating them. Now Layla felt as if her chest entered a room about ten seconds before
she
did.

‘Jesus, there can’t be
more,
’ said Layla.

She was worn out. Trailing sundry minders behind them – and that got on her nerves, having them following her around all the time, she
hated
it – they had been in and out of so many boutiques that she was dizzy. Taking Layla’s colour swatch with them, they’d bought daywear, casual weekend wear, and finally evening wear, and more shoes than anyone could ever possibly need.

‘Oh, you look fabulous in that,’ the sales assistant had said when Layla stumbled out of the umpteenth changing room that day.

It was unnerving, seeing her mother every time she checked herself in the mirror, instead of the usual plain don’t-look-at-me Layla.

God I really do,
she thought.

‘She’ll take it,’ said Precious.

Rufus watched the two women from a little distance away. He would have moved in and snatched the Carter girl then and there, but the two minders who were sticking to her like glue didn’t strike him as amateurs. He ducked into a shop doorway as one of them glanced his way. No, these were definitely pros. They were watching the crowds, forming a barrier of muscle around the Carter girl and the other one. They’d spot him coming long before he had a chance to get in close enough to do anything. He watched covertly as the two women were escorted to their car, ushered inside.

Rufus smiled to himself as the car drove away.

It didn’t matter.

‘Of course, your big problem is deportment,’ said Precious, when they were back at the Shalimar.

Layla sprawled on the bed. ‘Huh?’

‘The way you carry yourself.’

‘What’s wrong with the way I carry myself?’

‘Everything. You look as though you want to disappear into the wallpaper.’

Maybe I do,
thought Layla.

‘So here’s what you do. You don’t slouch. You don’t cross your arms over your body – that looks very defensive.’

‘Jesus.’

‘You don’t stare at the floor. I saw you in the hall with Alberto, having a conversation with the floorboards. That’s not on.’

‘Well what
should
I look at?’

‘Someone looks at you, you look back at them. Make proper eye contact. Look them in the eyes, and smile.’

‘Holy shit, how much
more
. . .?’

‘One final thing. Making an entrance. You know about making an entrance?’

‘Yeah. You come in the door.’

‘Don’t be flippant. It’s called the nailer, and it’s called that for a good reason. Watch, I’ll show you.’

Precious stepped out into the hall, closing the door after her. Then she came back in, looked at Layla, smiled her gorgeous wide-mouthed smile, and closed the door by leaning against it. She stood there for a moment, pinning Layla with the warmth of her smile, then she stepped forward, away from the door, and walked into the room.

‘You see?’ she asked Layla. ‘That’s the nailer. Try it.’

Layla crawled from the bed and did it. Went out the door, came back in. Leaned against the door. Looked at Precious.

‘Smile,’ said Precious.

Layla smiled.

‘No, that’s a
grimace
not a smile. Go out and try again.’

Layla did.

‘Better,’ said Precious. ‘Needs work, but definitely better. Now we’re going to have to think about accessories.’

‘Holy shit, how much more—’ said Layla.

‘Come on! On your feet, Layla Carter. We’re not done yet. I haven’t spoken to you about compliments, have I?’

‘What about them?’

‘How to accept them.’

‘OK. How?’ No one had ever complimented her. She did accounts. She worked, and when she wasn’t working, she worked out.

‘Graciously. Don’t deflect them. Say “thank you”, as if compliments are your due.’

‘I never get compliments.’

‘Trust me – you will now.’

That evening, while Precious and Destiny and China were working downstairs in the club, Ellie waved Layla to her office.

‘Your mum’s on the phone,’ she said.

Eagerly Layla took the phone. She was looking forward to telling Annie about her shopping trip, about what a total delight it was spending time with Precious. She opened her mouth to speak.

‘What do you think you’re playing at?’ demanded Annie.

‘Wha—?’ Layla froze.

‘You were out shopping with one of the girls this afternoon. For fuck’s sake, Layla. Will you be told?’

Layla felt her heart sink. All the fun of the day was gone in an instant.

‘I had Dad’s people with me,’ she said, instinctively folding an arm protectively across her middle, then catching herself. Was it any wonder her deportment was defensive?

‘They shouldn’t have let you go out like that, it was stupid. I’ll be having a word.’

Layla said nothing. She stared at the floor.

‘Layla?’ said Annie.

‘What?’

‘We’ve been talking about it, and we think it’s time for you to come home. Your dad’s here, Alberto’s here. This is the safest place for you to be now. Where we can keep a closer eye on you.’

Come home?
Layla stared at the phone. She’d been having the time of her life here at the club with the girls. She’d never known what it was to have friends until now. The last thing she wanted to do was leave.

But Dad was in Holland Park, and she loved spending time with him.

And Alberto was there too. Which sent a shiver through her. She wanted to see him, of course she did. But she was anxious about it, too. She was always hyper-aware of her own mortal failings around the godlike presence of Alberto. Despite Precious’s tutelage, she was afraid of making a spectacular prat of herself.

‘I don’t know . . .’ she said, angry at herself, aware that she’d fucked up. Going back to work, shopping with Precious – she’d brought this sudden recall down on her own head.

‘Tone’s going to come and get you tomorrow morning at ten. OK?’

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mum. What if it’s
not
OK?’ she asked irritably.

‘Tough. Be ready, and don’t arse about in the meantime. No more trips out. I don’t want to hear that you’ve been seen out on the town tonight. Because if I do, there’ll be trouble.’

Layla heard the click as her mother hung up the phone.

‘Bollocks!’ she shouted, and tossed the receiver back on the cradle.

Ellie was staring at her. ‘Bad news?’ she asked.

Layla took a breath. ‘I’m going back to Holland Park tomorrow morning at ten. Orders from my mother – otherwise known as She Who Must Be Obeyed.’

‘Well, that’ll be nice, won’t it?’ said Ellie, adopting a cheery tone in the hope of wiping that unhappy expression off Layla’s face.

‘Oh yeah, fucking fantastic,’ said Layla, and stormed off to her room.

70

‘Oh shit! Oh no! Oh
fuck
!’ Benny O’Connor cried out when he saw Max Carter coming towards his hospital bed.

Benny was in a small side room on his own, and Max thought that this was convenient. At the nurses’ station he’d told them he was Benny’s brother, and they had directed him to Benny’s room. Max pushed the door closed behind him and lunged forward, snatching from Benny’s hand the button that would summon a nurse.

Benny fell back on the pillows. His injured feet were concealed beneath a cage that had a hospital blanket draped across it. Sweat popped out on Benny’s face as he stared at the darkly grinning man looming over him.

‘Hi, Benny,’ said Max, setting down a bag of grapes. ‘How’s the feet?’

‘What do you want?’ said Benny, panting with fright.

‘For you to stop making a noise would be a good start.’ Max sat down cosily on the edge of Benny’s bed. ‘One more peep out of you and there could be a terrible accident before those nurses out there can reach you.’

Benny lay back, eyes wide with terror. He believed it.

‘Now, where were we?’ Max gave it some thought. ‘Oh yeah. You were telling me about Rufus. Who came over from Ireland with Orla. That right?’

‘I told you, he’s staying in the flat above Partyland.’

‘Only he wasn’t. The place has been empty for ages. So that was a cold trail. And I don’t like cold trails, Benny. Cold trails upset me. I want to know where Rufus is.’

‘But I thought he was
there
.’

‘Really?’ Max was casually lifting away the blanket from the frame protecting Benny’s feet. Underneath it, both feet were bandaged up like a mummy’s.

‘What are you doing?’ whined Benny.

‘Just checking. That must hurt like a bastard.’

‘Wha—?’

Max slapped a hand over Benny’s mouth and then pushed his thumb hard up against where Benny had taken the first shot in the foot. Benny went puce, sweat erupting on his brow. A low groan of anguish seeped out of him.

‘Tell me where Rufus Malone is,’ said Max, turning his attention to the other foot.

Benny mumbled against Max’s hand.

Max lifted his hand. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘I don’t
know
where he is. I swear, I thought he was
there,
’ sobbed Benny.

‘Oh dear,’ said Max, and slapped his hand back over Benny’s mouth. Benny writhed, but couldn’t get away. Max pressed hard on the other foot. Blood sprang up, tinting the bandages bright red.

‘Mmph,’ said Benny.

‘Pardon?’ Max lifted his hand.

‘I don’t know where Rufus is,’ panted Benny. ‘Oh Jesus, please believe me. He told me Partyland. I heard a rumour that he had a place out on the marshes, but I don’t know where exactly.’

Max looked at Benny, who seemed to be on the verge of puking his guts up. Then he got to his feet. ‘Eat your grapes,’ he said. ‘They’re good for you.’

With that, he left.

Staff Nurse Julia Foster was irritable. She’d come on duty at six a.m., thinking she’d have time for a nice cup of tea, catch her breath, have a bit of a natter, then on to business. But her schedule was already fucked. Thanks to pea-brained Susan Challis, who’d let in some total stranger last night because he claimed to be Bullet Case’s brother.

Shootings were always reported to the police, even if accidental. This one didn’t
look
accidental, but Bullet Case – Benny O’Connor – claimed it was. That was all he would say on the matter. That it was an accident, over and over again.