Kitabı oku: «Disobey», sayfa 3
The girl crossed her arms, scowling from under her long blonde hair, cheeks flushed with anger. ‘My lot? And what is “my lot”? What’s that supposed to mean?’
Alfie smirked, ‘You want me to spell it out to you?’
The girl put a cigarette in her mouth and lit it before she continued to speak. She narrowed her eyes as the smoke wafted into them and began to walk away, throwing her small tattered rucksack over her shoulder. ‘You know what, don’t bother, me mum always said you were a wanker.’
Alfie looked stunned. Her mum? What was she talking about?
The girl turned around, sticking two fingers up at Alfie. ‘See you around, Uncle Alfie, it’s been a pleasure.’
Uncle Alfie? What?… Wait. Shit. It couldn’t be. Alfie shouted out to the girl as she disappeared into the crowd of milling tourists in Old Compton Street.
‘Chloe?… Chloe-Jane? Wait!… Wait!’ Out of breath, Alfie caught up to the girl and grabbed her arm, recognition mixed with puzzlement written over his face.
‘Chloe? Fuck me girl, you’ve changed. The last time …’
‘I know, I know, the last time you saw me I looked a flipping geek.’
Alfie’s voice was warm, his eyes reflecting the same sentiment. ‘I wasn’t going to say that … you’ve just, well, grown up, that’s all.’
Chloe-Jane beamed a smile. ‘Oh you mean these. I had them done last year, cost five bleeding grand.’ She pointed to her large breasts, proudly sticking out her chest even further which caught the leering attention of a male passer-by, who quickly averted his eyes once he saw the steely glare of Alfie.
Alfie pulled her towards him before taking his jumper off.
‘No, I didn’t mean them.’
Chloe-Jane giggled as Alfie handed her his top. ‘Oh Uncle Alfie, you’re so old-fashioned.’
Alfie’s voice was firm. ‘Just put it on.’
Chloe-Jane decided it was best to do as her Uncle Alfie said. She pouted, taking the jumper begrudgingly. She liked showing off her body. Liked men looking at her. It made a change.
For so long she’d been the geeky kid in school, with second-hand clothes and second-hand care. Her mother hadn’t given a shit about her. She was either boozed-up or cracked-up.
She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d gone into short-term foster homes which were a relief from the chaos of life with her mother. If it had been her choice she would’ve stayed with any one of the foster carers she’d been to, apart from the last ones. Chloe shuddered, remembering.
As foster carers went they’d been okay, well at first anyway. The woman, a doctor, had been harmless, though it’d been clear to Chloe that she disapproved of her. Her husband had been a lawyer and Chloe had thought he was kind. He’d taken her places, bought her things, told her she was pretty and treated her like a father would treat a daughter. Not that she knew what that was like, she never even knew who her dad was and neither did her mum. All Chloe had ever known was a procession of her mum’s violent boyfriends.
The man had even bought her a puppy whom she’d named Timmy, a cute white poodle. Then on her sixteenth birthday he’d given her the best present ever. He’d offered to buy her a boob job, and of course she’d jumped at the chance.
The operation had gone well and she’d gone up to a double EE. At only sixteen, the girls at school had been riddled with jealousy as suddenly overnight Chloe was now the most popular one with the boys. It’d been the happiest time of her life – and then it’d happened. Something she should’ve seen coming.
She’d been asleep when her foster father had woken her up. His hands and his mouth groping at her, pulling at her body and breasts as she tried to push him off. But he’d been too strong for her and after putting up a fight, Chloe finally was overpowered and the man had forced his erect penis into her. That was the night Chloe-Jane Jennings had lost her virginity.
The next day, Chloe had packed her things and gone to sit in the offices of social services, but as she had turned sixteen, no one had wanted to listen to her – she was too old. She’d gone back to her mother’s but had only lasted a further eight months before her mother’s behaviour had become too much for her.
She’d slept on friends’ floors for another eight months before deciding to come up to London and leave Essex behind once and for all. And it was only when she’d arrived in London she’d remembered her Uncle Alfie. Her mother’s half-brother. She’d only ever seen him twice in her life. But both times she remembered vividly because of his kindness. So where better to come and stay but with him? After all, he was family.
‘I hope you don’t mind me turning up like this, it’s just I ain’t got anywhere else to go. But I reckoned you wouldn’t mind me staying with you.’
Alfie stared at her. He hadn’t seen this coming, and even if he had there was just no way it was happening.
‘When you say stay, what exactly do you mean?’
‘Like stay. Crash out at yours. It’d be only for a couple of nights.’
Alfie began to shake his head. ‘I don’t think that’d be a good idea.’
Chloe-Jane looked at Alfie. She had to play this delicately. She glanced at Alfie slyly. Lying came second nature to her, after all, she was her mother’s daughter. Chloe chose her words very carefully.
‘Well that’s what my mum said, but I said you weren’t like that. I said you were the sort of bloke who wouldn’t mind me just turning up out of the blue.’
Alfie silently nodded. It was true. He was a generous, welcoming guy. He listened on as Chloe continued.
‘I don’t know why Emmie thinks you’re ’orrible. She don’t know how lucky she is. If I had a dad like you, I’d …’
Alfie smarted at hearing the name of his daughter. The idea that Emmie thought he was horrible killed him.
‘When did Emmie say that?’
Chloe shrugged her shoulders, knowing it wasn’t true. In fact she hadn’t spoken to her cousin in years. She’d heard her mum speak to Janine – Alfie’s ex and Emmie’s mother – on the phone and retell all the ins and outs of what happened, but besides that she really didn’t know anything about Emmie.
‘Anyhow, I best be getting on, Uncle Alfie. I gotta find meself somewhere else to stay. Sorry for troubling you.’
‘No! Wait! Did your mum really call me a wanker?’
Chloe shook her head and a look of relief passed over Alfie’s face, though it was only short-lived. ‘No, she actually called you a cunt.’
Alfie’s face reddened.
‘Anyway Uncle Alfie, I really got to go.’
‘Maybe … maybe it’d be alright for a couple of nights.’
‘Really?’
It was Alfie’s turn to shrug. ‘I guess … but I mean a couple.’
Chloe squealed with delight as Alfie led her back to his flat. Well what could he do? After all, she was family. And family stuck together, no what matter what. The only problem was, Chloe was trouble. Alfie could smell it a mile away.
4
The scream echoed through the building and out onto the street as if it were a gush of air, causing the late-night passers-by to stop and wonder what they’d just heard, before hurrying quickly away.
Inside one of the darkened rooms of the six-storey building Chang Lee owned in Gerrard Street, Chinatown, Mr Lee stood behind the two-way mirror. The building’s ground and first floor housed a restaurant run by some of Chang Lee’s men, with the higher floors used for late-night illegal gambling, and the basement where he was now, for moments like this.
Chang watched his second-in-command, Lin, screw the pliers into the cheek of Sarp.
‘Open up. I said, open up!’ Lin shouted loudly, his eyes dancing in excitement as he began to extract the teeth of the man whose face already poured with blood.
Mr Lee looked on calmly, not showing a hint of emotion, watching whilst a patch of urine spread further across the tormented man’s bloodstained underwear. He’d seen enough.
‘Stop!’ The one-word well-spoken order from Lee had Lin immediately breaking off from the pain they were inflicting on the man. Lin exhaled heavily, out of breath from all the physical exertion.
Mr Lee came out from behind the mirror, walking over to the man who lay crumpled on the stone floor like a heap of old sacks.
‘My men are very loyal to me. When I give an order they like to carry it out; it’s a matter of honour, you see. And when they can’t, it upsets them. In Hong Kong we have a code. A code in which we swear an oath to preserve the fellowship at all costs. To do all we can to uphold it. My men will go to any lengths to make sure my orders are carried through.’
Sarp growled out something inaudible as Mr Lee shook his head.
‘Pride can be an honourable trait, but it can also be a foolish one and cause a very nasty fall.’ Mr Lee stood up, towering over the man as he continued to talk, his tone sinister. ‘What I don’t understand is why. Why on earth you wouldn’t just pay. We could’ve protected you. Looked after your business … looked after you. But as such, you’ve lost everything. Everything gone. Burnt to the ground.’
Through the pain, Sarp mumbled his words of defiance.
‘I ain’t paying you lot nothing. Fuck all.’
Mr Lee nodded to Lin, who picked up a discarded piece of wood from the floor and played with it in his hand for a moment as Lee continued to speak.
‘That’s it right there. The pride coming before the fall – and as for you not paying us anything; how wrong you are. You’ve paid a very high price indeed.’ Lee nodded once more to Lin, who effortlessly swung the wood and smashed it into the man’s skull, splitting open his head. Blood and brain mass spilt out as the man started to convulse.
Mr Lee sighed, a note of resignation in his voice. ‘Bag him up.’
It’d just gone three in the morning as Alfie Jennings stood outside Whispers nightclub, which he’d owned for many years. It was something he was proud of, something which was close to his heart. He’d started the club in memory of his mother who’d killed herself when he was only a kid. To this day, the image of finding her covered in blood after she’d stabbed herself in the neck with a pair of garden shears still haunted Alfie.
Although it was only a business, essentially only a building, to him it was a way of keeping his mother’s memory alive and he would do anything in his power to keep it going. In fact, Alfie suspected he’d put a bullet in someone’s head to keep it going.
It was one of the reasons why he had such a problem with Vaughn. Okay, Alfie had made mistakes and got involved with people he shouldn’t have done when he’d got mixed up with a gang of sex traffickers a few years back. But he hadn’t known the full story, hadn’t known all the ins and outs of it, not really, or so he liked to tell himself. What Alfie had known was that it paid well and he had been desperate.
His decision to get involved with the gang had seen Vaughn give him an ultimatum. Pull out of the deal or cut all ties with him. But how could he have done that? Alfie had needed the money and when it looked like Whispers and everything else was about to go under, he’d begged Vaughn to help him, to lend him money – but the only thing his one-time best friend had done was turn his back on him when he’d needed him the most. For that, Alfie Jennings would never forgive him.
Alfie realised Vaughn would have a different version of events to his. There’d be accusations of how he’d mugged him over, lied to him and tried to break up the relationship he had with Casey, and maybe, just maybe Alfie hadn’t played fair, but then he’d never said he was an angel. Besides, what Vaughn had done by pulling his hand of friendship away was in Alfie’s book far worse than anything he might or might not have done.
If it wasn’t for Franny he’d be still down on his luck, but she’d come through even though there was nothing really in it for her. And he was more than grateful, which was why he needed to earn big money, and fast.
Alfie was too old to get involved in heists and robberies; besides, everything had changed; there was no such thing now as a clean robbery, which was essentially a case of going in with shooters, getting the dough before laughing all the way to the Costa.
The old school way of robbing had well and truly gone; the days when people just stuck their hands up, gave you no grief or behaved like funny cunts. Yes, they were the glory days when you could take the money and run, but now everyone wanted to be a hero, everyone wanted to be in the news for stopping a robbery – so more often than not, someone got shot, and the last thing Alfie wanted to do was spend any more of his life doing bird for some have-a-go hero.
No, what he needed to do was get enough money together and go and start a new life in Marbella with Franny. He was ready to settle down, like Vaughn had with Casey. Alfie was ready for the easy life. Jesus, he never thought he’d ever say that.
He’d always thought he’d stay in Soho all his life. Around everything he ever knew. But outlooks changed, people’s perspective altered and it was because of this need to settle down and start afresh with the woman he loved that Alfie had started up his get-money-fast plan.
He hadn’t run any of this by Franny, he thought he’d get everything sorted first. Come to her with a solid plan and enough dough to live the life he wanted and give her everything she could ever wish for. It’d crossed his mind that she might say no, but one of the things Alfie prided himself on was knowing women, and eventually, one way or another he knew he could talk Franny round. Because no matter how independent women thought they were, when it actually came down to it, all they really wanted was to be looked after by a real man, and he was certainly that, a little bit of the Jennings magic went a long way. But once again everything had changed, and now Franny saying no to a luxurious life on the Costa was the least of his worries.
His plan to have a slice of the money from the gambling dens of the triads had seemed so simple. He thought it would run so easily and work so well but it had started to go wrong. Badly wrong. All he’d ever wanted to do was have a share of the riches, not take over their empire, and the amount he’d be earning, taking from them, the likes of Mr Lee wouldn’t even feel it. But they hadn’t seen it like that. Oh no, they hadn’t seen it like that at all. And now he needed to sort it out pront-fucking-o, before anyone, especially Vaughn found out. Because if he did, Alfie knew only too well that Vaughn Sadler would make it the beginning of the end for him.
As Alfie stood in the street, continuing to mull over the scenario he’d found himself in, he watched as a blacked-out car suddenly did a U-turn in the middle of Old Compton Street. It began to speed up and head towards him. Instinct told him to get back.
Jumping into the entrance of the club, Alfie narrowly missed being hit by the car as it pulled up beside him. His heart began to race as adrenaline raced round his body. Shit. The doors of the Mercedes flew open and for a moment Alfie thought it was over. That this was it. That finally his comeuppance had caught up with him. Images flashed through his mind whilst he scrambled for his gun, knowing by the time he drew it, it would probably be too late.
With the gun in his hand and about to fire, the car, as quickly as it’d driven up to Alfie, drove away, but not before the occupants in it had thrown something out. Something wrapped up in black bin bags and bound tightly round with silver gaffer tape. It didn’t take Alfie’s life of crime to tell him what it was.
The relief Alfie felt at not getting a bullet in his head was tangible but short-lived as panic began to set in. He quickly put his gun away and looked round the deserted street to check if anyone had seen what had happened. Satisfied no one was about, Alfie charged over to where the homemade body bag lay.
Quickly he dragged the body into the club, using his feet to push open the doors before diligently locking them behind him. The last thing he needed was someone coming in.
His phone rang. It was Franny. She’d have to wait; Alfie didn’t want her knowing anything about this and if he answered she might sense there was something wrong and as much as he didn’t want to lie to her, he’d have no choice.
Turning on the lights, Alfie stood gazing down at the body-shaped parcel. There was a note taped on the bag. It was written in red. Blood. Claret. And it simply read. This is what happen when you disobey the rules.
Alfie crouched down and took a deep breath. He ripped open the taped bin liners, revealing a naked, tortured body. Burns and bruises marked the man’s white skin. Next, Alfie began to uncover the upper part of the body. The head had been bound over and over again with thick tape, making it necessary for Alfie to use his penknife.
After a few minutes, and with the bags and tape cut away, Alfie grimaced. For all his years of violence, it still sometimes made him recoil to see someone so battered. The geezer had had it bad. Alfie could see the man’s teeth had been forcibly extracted and it looked like his right eye had been gouged out with what was probably a hot poker.
Wiping away some of the man’s blood with part of the torn bin bag, Alfie paused. Shit. Shit. Shit. He knew who the geezer was. It was Sarp.
The last time Alfie had seen him was about a week ago, when he’d promised to have a word with Johnny and Frankie Taylor to keep an eye out, but he’d purposely not bothered, knowing exactly who was behind the threats.
He’d warned Sarp to pay the men until it was sorted. Then it wouldn’t have mattered that Alfie hadn’t spoken to the Taylors – but clearly the man hadn’t heeded his warning, and now he’d paid with his life. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Cold sweat ran down Alfie’s face. The whole situation had become out of hand, spinning out of control and it was getting nearer and nearer to his doorstep.
He’d call his men to get rid of the body; he couldn’t afford to have the Old Bill sniffing about, but first before he did anything else he needed to make a call. Taking out his phone from his pocket, Alfie Jennings dialled a number.
‘Mr Lee, it’s Alfie. I think we need to talk.’
5
‘Are you sure he said that?’ Franny Doyle looked at Chloe-Jane incredulously as she laid the few clothes she did have out on the spare bed.
‘Yep. He said as long as it was alright with you, I could stay for as long as I liked.’
Franny gave a small smile. ‘It’s not really my decision.’
Chloe chewed her gum noisily. When Alfie had brought her to the flat, no one else had been in and he’d only just managed to have time to show her to the spare room before rushing out to his club which was almost opposite the flat.
Chloe remembered he’d said something about Franny, but she hadn’t really listened. She wasn’t the least bit interested in any of Alfie’s girlfriends. But then Franny had come in, and they’d both given each other a fright as they’d bumped into each other in the darkened hallway.
That had been two hours ago and for some reason this woman wanted to know all about her, asking her questions about her life. Chloe-Jane wanted not to like her but for some reason she couldn’t help warming to Franny.
Chloe’s eyes glinted slyly. ‘But it is to do with you. Uncle Alfie said if you didn’t mind then I could stay longer … So is it alright? Can I stay?’
Franny wasn’t sure what to say. She could see Chloe was desperate. Behind the front was a vulnerable young woman who was essentially still a child. Her body was that of a woman though, albeit a glamour model. Huge breasts, almost cartoonish in look, disproportionally formed the contours of her tiny body. Huge eyes and full lips gave her sensuality older than her seventeen years which Franny was certain would attract the wrong kind of attention.
It wasn’t Chloe’s fault but it slightly niggled her that Alfie hadn’t bothered to tell her his niece was coming to stay or even ring her for that matter. She knew she was being silly, especially as things like this never usually troubled her. Maybe it had something to do with her finally deciding she was going to tell Alfie that she’d move in with him. Perhaps it was selfish, but the idea of having someone else in the flat whilst she adjusted to giving up her independence hadn’t been what Franny had imagined.
But then what was she supposed to do? Chloe was Alfie’s family and he didn’t have much of that, and if she was going to be with Alfie long term, well that made Chloe her family too. And reading between the lines, it was clear Chloe had had a difficult time of it.
Franny could tell Chloe was proud, just like Alfie, but she hoped the girl would eventually open up to her. She knew through experience what could happen if problems and secrets went unresolved. She also knew what it felt like to be lost.
Franny smiled at Chloe, suppressing a sense of foreboding. ‘Yes Chloe, of course you can stay as long as you want.’
Chloe couldn’t contain the sound of excitement in her voice. Franny was clearly an easy touch. Before she knew it she’d have her eating out of her hand. Things were beginning to look up. ‘I’ll pay my way.’
Franny looked sceptical. ‘Don’t be silly, you haven’t got any money. Besides, Alfie wouldn’t expect that. You’re family.’
‘I will though, then there’ll be no problem.’
‘There’ll be no problem anyway.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure, it’ll be lovely and I’m sure Alfie will feel the same.’
‘No way. No fucking way. Do I look like I’ve got baby-fucking-sitter written all over me boat?’ Alfie Jennings did not need this at all.
‘But I’ve told her now, Alf.’
‘Well un-fucking tell her, Fran. I ain’t got time for this shit now. And who’s going to fork out for her? Muggins here. I don’t even know her and I’m supposed to cop the bill for her? It’s bad enough having to fork out for me ex and me daughter who I never see but who still wants to spend me money, let alone some waif from me half-sister.’
‘You can be really horrible sometimes, Alfie.’
‘So you like to keep on telling me, but I like to see it as being real. I ain’t having someone leeching off me, family or not. So you can tell her she ain’t staying here.’ Christ, this was the last thing Alfie needed. What happened to Sarp had really shaken him up, and he didn’t want to have to worry about anything else. He had to think about what to do, and having Chloe here wasn’t going to help one little bit.
‘Alfie, come on!’
‘Franny, listen, I’ve got a lot going on right now, babe, so when I say no, I mean no. I can’t deal with it at the moment. So just get rid, will ya.’
Chloe-Jane listened at the door as Franny and Alfie argued. Her heart was sinking. She’d hoped against hope that unlike the majority of people in her life, her uncle might actually want her around. But clearly she was wrong.
‘I’m not going to do that. If you want to, you tell her. I’m not going to do your dirty work for you, Alf.’
‘Fine then, I will.’ Alfie headed for the door but Franny grabbed his arm, holding him back.
‘Alfie, no! Wait!… You can’t.’
‘Firstly, I can and I’m going to, but secondly, how come you’re bothered; what’s it to you?’
Franny frowned, annoyed. This was the part of Alfie which irritated her and sometimes made her doubt the relationship. He could be so compassionate at times, but then there were times when he was like this. Ignorant. ‘What do you mean, what’s it to me? She’s your niece and she’s just a kid, plus it’s obvious she’s got nowhere to go.’
Alfie snorted.
‘I hate it when you do that, Alf.’
Alfie looked surprised. ‘Do what?’
‘Snort when you know I’m right.’
Alfie’s roar of laughter made Chloe jump but she continued to listen, her resentment towards her uncle growing greater.
‘You ain’t right, babe. She’s a player.’
‘She’s a seventeen-year-old kid, Alf.’
‘Yeah, a seventeen-year-old kid who wouldn’t look out of place on the cover of Playboy.’
Everything about this moment made Franny want to walk out and go back to her own flat. She hadn’t yet told Alfie about her plans to move in with him and the way the conversation was going she didn’t know if she ever would.
‘Why do you have to be like this, Alfie?’
‘Like what?’
‘Don’t play the innocent!’
Alfie shrugged, he hated it when Franny became difficult. He was used to birds giving him grief; usually when they did he’d just leave them to it and go and find some Tom to fuck or play a few games of poker to get his mind off it. But with Franny he couldn’t do either. Knowing that he, Alfie Jennings, was locked down by a woman pissed him off and fascinated him all at the same time, which in turn made Franny even more attractive to him.
‘Play the innocent! I’d say if anyone had then it’s Chloe. Don’t you see Fran, she’s properly played you. I said to her she could stay for two nights only.’
Franny shook her head, picking up her coat and bag. Even though it was the early hours of the morning, she wanted to go home to her own bed. She didn’t feel like being around Alfie tonight. ‘I’m not stupid, Alf. Of course I know she’s playing me. But don’t you see she’s got nowhere else?’
‘Well she ain’t staying here.’
Franny stood opposite Alfie. She studied his handsome face and gave him a sad smile.
‘Then that makes two of us then.’
Alfie raised his voice in annoyance. ‘You what?’
‘You heard me, there’s no way I’m going to stay here if you throw her out.’
Alfie’s old school instinct kicked in and he growled at Franny, a sneer coming over his face. Love was one thing, but this was another. He was basically being blackmailed by Franny and he didn’t like it. Not one fucking little iota.
‘Sorry darlin’, you may be the woman who’s grabbed me heart but I ain’t letting you grab me balls. No one but fucking no one tells Alfie Jennings what to do.’
Franny stepped in towards Alfie. Her voice was calm but cool. ‘Alfie, I’m not telling you what to do, quite the opposite in fact. I’m telling you what I’m doing. Give me a ring when you’ve stopped being such a prick.’
Franny swung open the living room door, coming face to face with Chloe who had heard every word of the conversation.
‘Get your stuff, Chloe, you can come and stay with me.’
The surprise on Chloe-Jane’s face mirrored that of Alfie’s. Chloe looked first to her uncle, then to Franny and back again. ‘You mean it?’
‘Of course.’
‘No she don’t. This is about me.’ Alfie’s voice was loud and although she ignored it, Franny could sense some hurt in his voice. She swivelled round to look at Alfie.
‘I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, Alfie, but the world does not revolve around you. Contrary to what you think, this isn’t about you. This is about Chloe, your niece. Remember?’
Alfie began to panic, this was the last thing he’d expected. ‘You walk out of here and you won’t be walking back in. You hear me?’ The moment the words came tumbling out, Alfie immediately regretted them, especially saying them to someone as fiery and stubborn as Franny Doyle.
Although Franny knew that Alfie didn’t really mean what he’d just said, her eyes flashed with anger. He was behaving like a spoilt child. ‘Is that what you really want, Alfie?’
It was the question Alfie Jennings hoped that Franny wouldn’t ask. Either way, the answer would make him look like a cunt. If he answered it with the truth – which was, of course he didn’t want her not to come back, in fact he didn’t want her to go – he’d look a soft cunt and he’d be open to any sort of female manipulation in the future. The other way he could answer it was with a lie, which would be to tell Fran that, yes he meant it and she could piss off out of his face. If he told her that he’d not only look a cunt, for the first time in his life he knew his heart would break, so instead, Alfie Jennings did what he’d done whenever he got nicked. He stayed silent. After all, it was his right.
Franny glared at him. ‘Fine, well if you haven’t got anything to say, Alf, Chloe and I will get off. You know where we are when and if you decide to wind your neck in.’ And with that Franny marched out of the room, with an excited-looking Chloe next to her.
The front door banged and Alfie rushed across to the window, watching as they walked down the street. He wondered if Franny could feel him watching. There was a huge part of him that wanted to call her back, but his stubbornness and male pride wouldn’t allow it.
He’d been right about Chloe, she was trouble, and now the thought began to creep in that Franny was too. But then show him a woman that wasn’t trouble, and he’d show them a man. Alfie sighed. Maybe it was better like this. Yes, he’d make Franny sweat for a couple of days, bring her back to her senses and have her scratching down the door to come back. It’d also give him time to concentrate and sort out all this mess with the triads.
As Alfie continued to gaze out of the window, he caught a glimpse of someone looking up. He couldn’t make out who it was but he was certain of one thing. Like everything else in his life at the moment, it probably meant only one thing. Trouble.
