Bad Blood Rising Read online

  “Well, mate, we did it,” Karl beamed. “We bloody well did it.”

  “It looks great,” Joe nodded in agreement.

  “Great? What do you mean, great? It looks bloody fantastic.” Karl walked over to the bar and turned on loud music and strobe lighting. Joe stifled a laugh as Karl attempted to spin on one of the poles landing unceremoniously on his knees.

  “Don’t give up your day job,” Joe chuckled as he helped Karl to his feet.

  “Talking of day jobs,” Karl said trying to regain his composure, “did you sort that incident out at Marion’s the other night?”

  “Yeah. One of the new girls we set on made off with a punter’s wallet. I found her on Canal Street, wallet and contents intact.”

  “I take it you dealt with her?”

  “Of course I did. Don’t worry, Rosie won’t be hanging around here anymore.”

  “Christ, Joe, you didn’t…?”

  “No, of course I didn’t. What do you think I am? No, just let’s say Rosie has learnt her lesson.”

  “What about the punter? Was he happy to get his wallet back?”

  “I wouldn’t say happy exactly,” Joe smirked. “What made him happy was when I offered him and his mate six month’s free membership of the VIP lounge.”

  “You did what? Do you know how much that’s worth?”

  “Karl, believe me it’ll be worth it. When I looked in the bloke’s wallet I saw he was Edward Williamson MBE. Councillor Williamson, to be exact, Chairman of the local Planning Department.”

  Karl was silent for a moment, absorbing the enormity of what Joe had told him.

  “The shit would really hit the fan if the press found out he’d been to Broughton Street,” Joe smirked. “I told him the club would guarantee absolute discretion.”

  “Who was the other punter with him?”

  “Arthur Reed, he’s another council big-wig. Karl, do you realise what getting these two on board would mean? Six months’ free membership seems a small price to pay.”

  “And you’re sure they won’t take the matter any further?”

  “Absolutely positive, so stop worrying. They’ll both be here on Friday for opening night.”

  “Good job,” Karl grinned, patting Joe affectionately on the back. “Now, let’s take a look at the real gold mine upstairs.”

  Both men went into the foyer, an attractive area with the same charcoal walls and high-gloss tiled floor as the club. A toilet block was to one side with a public telephone on the wall. A large counter with a smoked glass screen faced the entrance. The screen had two hatches. The first one was for the club and the second hatch to the left was for the VIP lounge upstairs. Both men went through the door marked ‘Members Only’.

  The staircase had a thick, dark green carpet and soft wall lighting. A silver handrail, similar to the poles in the club, ran up one side. A small table bearing a vase with early spring flowers was at the bottom of the staircase.

  “This looks great, Karl, really classy. You’ve done a good job, mate.”

  “I thought you’d like it,” Karl said proudly.

  Tucked in one corner of the broad landing at the top of the stairs was a small table and chair.

  “I thought I’d put Victor up here. He can’t get into any more mischief then.”

  “Okay, if that’s what you want, but I was hoping he could still come with me to Cedar Road. It’s always best to have two in the car. You can’t be too careful.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Karl said thoughtfully. “He could be with you until about ten and then come here for the last four hours. But for Christ’s sake, don’t let him near the girls on his own. After what happened last time, he just can’t be trusted.”

  “Don’t worry, Karl, Victor will be with me in the car the whole time.”

  Joe opened the oak door leading into the VIP lounge and both men walked through. The walls in the lounge were decorated in a pale silver grey flocked paper. Each of the six windows was draped from floor to ceiling in grey velvet. A dozen dark green couches were placed around low smoked glass tables, each bearing a small lamp. At the rear of the room were the private booths, each curtained to the front which could be closed for privacy. To one side of the room was a small bar stocked with wines and spirits.

  “So, this is what a VIP lounge looks like,” Joe smirked. “I’ve never been in one before.”

  “Neither have I, but this is what I think one should look like.”

  “I take it the drinks and nibbles are served to the punters by waitresses?”

  “Joe, we don’t have punters up here, we have guests,” Karl chastised, wagging his finger playfully. “For the prices they’ll be charged, we have to give them respect.”

  “If you say so, boss. Can I see the office now that it’s finished?”

  “This way,” Karl said, walking to the far side of the room towards a substantial oak door. The door bore a brass plaque which read ‘Private. Strictly No Admittance’.

  The spacious office had a thick grey carpet with the same wall covering as that in the lounge bar. In the centre of the back wall was a large oak desk and leather swivel chair with two similar chairs in front. A large green velvet couch with two matching armchairs was placed to one side of the room and a small drinks cabinet was against the wall. In one corner was a door to the concealed staircase leading down to the club.

  “So this is where you’ll be hanging out from now on?” Joe laughed. “Office bound, that’ll be you, Karl.”

  “Not bloody likely, I was thinking Erica could work up here, helping with the accounts. She’s good with figures. Talking of Erica, where the hell is she? I told her to be here at twelve.”

  “It’s only just,” reasoned Joe, looking at his watch. “Anyway, I’ve got the dancers coming to audition so I’ll leave you to it.”

  Joe left the room and went downstairs, just as Erica was entering the foyer.

  “He’s upstairs,” Joe grinned mischievously, “and you’re late. I hope you’ve got a note.”

  Erica rushed past Joe and made her way to the office.

  THIRTY

  “Everything okay, Si?” Joe asked, addressing Simon, the senior doorman at the Emerald Club.

  “Sure, Joe,” he grinned. “These two ladies are here for the audition.”

  Joe nodded to the women and opened the door leading into the club.

  “This way, ladies,” he invited. “If you want to get changed, I’ll put on the music.”

  Both women took off their outer clothes. The first girl, Candy, was in her late twenties, tall and slim with short blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She was wearing a dark blue leotard and high platform shoes. Joe watched intently as she seductively wound her body around the pole.

  “Thanks, Candy, that was great,” he said as she concluded her dance. “Can you sit over there for a moment?”

  Candy smiled at Joe and then turned to the other woman auditioning.

  “Beat that,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

  The second girl, Daisy, was younger than Candy. Her hair, the colour of golden syrup, almost reached her waist. As she whirled round the pole, she leant back and her hair brushed the floor. When she had finished her dance, Joe invited her to take a seat, along with Candy.

  Simon entered the room accompanying two more young women.

  “There are four more waiting in the foyer, Joe. Do you want me to bring them all in?”

  “No, just two at a time, I don’t want to start any cat fights.”

  Both men laughed.

  For the next hour, Joe watched as girl after girl performed on the pole. Most were experienced dancers, some of them from other clubs in the area, whilst some were enthusiastic amateurs. Joe had been surprised to see how well Lindsay had danced, despite his earlier misgivings.

  It was getting towards the end of the session when Simon came into the club followed by a young black woman in her mid-twenties.

  “Just one more, Joe,” he said. “This
is Cocoa.”

  Joe turned to face the newcomer and stared at her in disbelief.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he spat.

  “I need a job,” Cocoa replied defiantly. “I can dance, Joe. You know I can dance, and I need a job.”

  Joe pushed past her and addressed the ten girls he had already selected.

  “Here are the rules of the club,” he said, handing each one a sheet of paper. “I want you all here tomorrow at two o’clock for rehearsals. The club will provide your outfits, okay?”

  Each of the women nodded excitedly.

  “Show them out, Simon, then you can go.”

  Once they had left, Joe turned angrily to face Cocoa.

  “What’s with the stupid bloody name? Your name’s Angie, not Cocoa.”

  “Cocoa’s my professional name.”

  “Your professional name? Please don’t tell me you’re on the game?”

  Angie glared at Joe.

  “How dare you? I’m a dancer, nothing else.”

  “I thought you were going to be a nurse? What the hell happened?”

  Angie stared at Joe defiantly but said nothing.

  “Come on, Angie, tell me what went wrong,” Joe encouraged, reaching out to hold her hand.

  Angie pulled away violently.

  “For Christ’s sake Joe, leave me alone. All I want to do is dance. Is that a crime?”

  “Dancing in this sort of place is,” Joe said sternly. “This isn’t for you, Angie. You’re better than this, you know you are.”

  “Better? Joe, you are so naive. You have no idea what my life has been like since…”

  “That’s all over,” Joe said reassuringly. “It’s in the past. Forgotten.”

  “Forgotten? How the hell can I forget? I killed a man. I was sixteen, I was drunk, I stole your car and I killed a man. How can I forget that?”

  “Angie, I sorted out the mess.”

  “No, you lied to the police. You took the blame for something that I’d done. You went to prison when it should have been me. I ruined your life. I’m so sorry.” Tears began to run down her cheeks and her slim body began to tremble. Joe put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  “Don’t be silly, you didn’t ruin my life. You’re my baby sister and I’d do anything for you, you know that.”

  “If that’s true, then give me a job here.”

  “I’ve told you no. This is not for you.”

  Angie pulled away from Joe’s embrace, anger flashing in her large brown eyes.

  “Why aren’t you working in a hospital like you planned?” Joe said softly. “The only thing that kept me going when I was inside was the thought of you going to college and getting a good career. What happened?”

  “I’ll tell you what happened,” Angie said angrily. “I couldn’t get the grades to get into college. I couldn’t hold down a job, not even in a burger bar. Can you believe that? Your baby sister, who everyone thought was so clever, couldn’t hold down a job flipping burgers.”

  “Oh Angie, I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t,” Angie snapped. “Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, I’m really not worth your pity. Let’s face it, Joe, I’m a screw-up. I always was.”

  “Please don’t say that. You’re not a screw up. You’re my sister and I love you.” He put his arms around her protectively and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Where are you living?”

  “I’m in a squat off Eldon Mews.”

  “You’re in a squat? Angie, you can’t live in a squat. You’re coming home with me. No arguments,” he said firmly, stifling the girl’s protest. Joe released a Yale key from the ring in his jacket pocket.

  “Here, take this,” he said, handing her the key. “It’s to my flat. I’ll put you in a taxi and I’ll be there about eight. There’s food in the fridge and…”

  “Joe, you don’t have to.”

  “Yes, I do. You’re the only family I have and…”

  Before he could finish, Angie threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I love you, big brother,” she whispered in his ear.

  “And I love you, little sister,” Joe replied affectionately. “There’s a phone in the foyer, I’ll ring for a taxi from there.”

  Neither Joe nor Angie noticed that Karl and Erica had entered the club and were standing near the bar.

  “Looks like Joe’s got himself a woman at last,” Karl grinned. “Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”

  Erica stared at Joe and the girl, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “Good for him,” she said quietly. “I hope they’ll both be happy.”

  THIRTY-ONE

  It was shortly after eight when Joe got back to his flat. On opening the door he immediately became aware of the strong smell of marijuana. He rushed into the lounge, his anger mounting with every stride. Angie was lying on the couch in her underwear. Next to her was a tall, thin black man in his late thirties. He wore jeans but his chest was bare.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Joe asked angrily, “and who’s he?”

  Angie struggled into her jeans and top.

  “What’s going on?” Joe demanded, grabbing her by the arm.

  Angie pulled away from Joe and sat on the man’s knee.

  “This is Ray,” she said defiantly. “Ray’s my friend, my partner.”

  Joe walked over to the man and leant over him menacingly.

  “How dare you use that shit in my home?”

  “Cool it, man,” Ray grinned as he pulled on a bright orange hoodie. “It’s only weed. Want some? Or maybe you’d like something stronger? There’s nothing I can’t get hold of, mate.”

  “I’m not your mate,” Joe spat, pulling Angie off Ray’s lap. “Now get the fuck out of my house and take that shit with you.” He grabbed Ray’s arm and roughly frogmarched him to the door.

  “Get off him,” Angie screamed. “If Ray leaves, I’m leaving too.”

  “You’re staying put,” Joe said angrily, pushing her back into the room. He opened the outer door leading to the street, still holding onto Ray. When they were outside, Joe turned to face him.

  “If I see you anywhere near my sister again, you’re a dead man. Understand?”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” Ray sneered. “Angie’s my girl and…” He never got to finish the sentence. Joe head-butted him in the face and Ray crumpled to the ground. Joe kicked him in the ribs a couple of times before a hysterical Angie ran out into the street, flinging herself between them.

  “Leave him alone, don’t hurt him,” she pleaded.

  Joe grabbed Angie by her arm and pushed her back inside the flat. “Stay in there,” he hissed. “I won’t tell you again.”

  Whilst Joe was distracted with Angie, Ray got to his feet and hurried along the road cursing. Joe was tempted to give chase but decided instead to go back into the flat and speak with his sister.

  Angie was curled up on the couch, sobbing loudly when Joe entered the flat.

  “You bastard,” she hissed. “You hurt Ray.”

  “If he comes here again I’ll fucking kill him,” Joe spat. “Now, I want you to tell me everything that’s been going on, and I mean everything.”

  Angie stared defiantly at her brother but said nothing. Joe sat next to her on the couch and slowly his anger began to subside.

  “Come on, Angie, I want to help. That’s what big brothers do, right?”

  She turned to face him, but remained stubbornly silent.

  Joe went to the cupboard and got out the whisky.

  “Want one?” he asked. Angie nodded.

  He handed her a glass, but still she didn’t speak.

  “So what happened, Angie? Why aren’t you living with Aunt Renee like we agreed?”

  “She wasn’t the saint everyone thought she was. I hated living with her.”

  Joe could see Angie’s lips trembling as she fidgeted nervously with her hair.

&n
bsp; “I know Renee wasn’t the easiest person to get along with, but…”

  “She was horrible,” Angie hissed. “She was constantly going on about what a bad person you were, and how she was glad you were in prison where you belonged. I wanted to tell her it was me that should be there, not you, but I was too scared.”

  Angie turned to her brother and began to cry softly. Joe put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze as he handed her a tissue. She dried her eyes.

  “So tell me what happened, sis?”

  Angie took a sip of whisky before she spoke. “After you went to prison, I bunked off school all the time, so when it came to exams, it was a joke.” She blew her nose on a tissue before continuing. “When I was seventeen, Aunt Renee sold the house and retired to the Caribbean. She didn’t care what happened to me. I went from one squat to another. That’s how I met Ray.”

  “You’re not stupid. Surely you can see that Ray’s no good.”

  “That’s not true,” Angie protested. “He was there for me when nobody else was.”

  “He’s a junkie and he’ll make you a junkie too if you stay with him. You haven’t taken any of that shit he’s peddling, have you?”

  Angie turned her face away from Joe.

  “Tell me,” he snapped. “What have you taken?”

  “Nothing, I swear. Just a couple of pills now and then, nothing heavy. I’m not hooked if that’s what you think.”

  “I want you to promise me you’ll not see him again.”

  “But Joe, I love Ray. He takes care of me and…”

  “Angie, I’m serious. If you want me to help you, you have to promise to keep away from him.”

  There was an uneasy silence.

  “Can I stay here with you?” she asked eventually. “Just until I get myself sorted out. I won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

  “You can stay as long as you need, you know that,” Joe smiled, putting his arm comfortingly around her slender shoulders. “Tomorrow I’ll see about getting you a job at the club.”