“I’m Ricky Ramon, you can call me Ricky.”
“I’m Jason Norris.” Jason grinned. He had chosen the name Norris after one of his idols, Chuck Norris, the current world karate champion.
“Okay Jason, I’ll tell yer what. You get the fish and chips, and you can sleep at my gaff. But first you gotta tell me why you ran from home,” Ricky said.
“My parents split, got new partners now, and they both have got young kids. I’ve been in a bit of trouble, bunking off school, shoplifting, and smashing windows.” Jason forced a laugh. “I even lit a huge bonfire that was made for a fireworks display.” This was something Jason read on a case file.
“What was wrong with that?” Ricky asked.
“I set light to it a day early.” Jason grinned.
“Nice one.” He got up and zipped up his jacket. “Come on, let’s get some tucker. It’s getting late, and the Old Bill will be around soon.”
Jason followed Ricky towards the exit. He was unsure if Ricky was part of any gang or just a teenager looking for friends, but it was a start. Maybe he didn’t need SYUI back up he told himself. He would find Abigail himself or at least he would try. It would be better than going home and telling the Giles family that he blew it.
After eating the newspaper wrapped fish and chips, Ricky took Jason back down to Paddington Station. They walked down two flights of steps to the underground subway station. Ricky jumped over the turnstile that you really needed a ticket to get through. Jason jumped over and followed. A platform guard shouted for them to come back, but Ricky took to his heels and, with Jason behind him, they ran down two flights of stairs. The cold subway air gave them a new lease of energy; they both roared with laughter as they entered the platform. Jason would never admit it, but he enjoyed being a rebel for a few moments.
A rush of cold air coming from the black tunnel told them a train was coming. It was fairly empty. Ricky climbed on with Jason behind, then they say down together grinning.
“I never buy a ticket.” Ricky grinned.
“What, never?” Jason asked.
“Nope. If I went to school I would get a travel pass, so I figure I should go free anyway.” He sat back and folded his hands behind his head.
“Don’t you go to school?” Jason asked, copying Ricky and placing his own hands behind his head.
“You’re having a laugh aren’t you? Me? School? Not bloody likely, mate. I get plenty of money. I don’t need school.” Ricky took out a bundle of pound notes.
“Wow, what do you do to earn that?”
“Can’t say, but maybe I could get you a job there, if you’re interested that is?”
“Course. I just spent the last of my money,” Jason said. He was now starting to feel he may have gotten lucky, and Ricky could lead him somewhere.
They passed several stations before getting off at Embankment Station and then boarding another train and eventually getting off at Charring Cross. As they walked up Greek Street towards Soho, the reality hit Jason. This was not the best place to be at night.
A drunk crouched in a corner throwing up. Across the street, two women were screaming at each other over one of the woman’s ex-boyfriend. Ricky started walking down a dark alley. Jason paused. His gut reaction was too steer clear of places like this, but if he was to stand any chance of finding Abigail or stopping child trafficking he had to stick with Ricky. He took a deep breath and followed.
A right turn took him onto a concrete ramp misted with steam curling out of a restaurant kitchen window. It was stinking of the trash overflowing from a dumpster. A huge fat rat jumped onto the edge and sniffed the air, its whiskers flicking from side to side. Kitchen staff stood in a doorway smoking and cavorting. Next to the kitchen door was another door. It was stuck, but Ricky pushed it with his shoulder as he twisted the handle.
It opened into a narrow hallway. A blue light from a television escaped from the crack in the curtains. Ricky climbed out a window at the end of the hallway onto a metal stairway outside. He ran up the steps two at a time. Once at the top, he pulled a loose brick from the wall and took out a key and open a dirty brown door, Jason followed him inside.
“It’s not Buckingham Palace, but its dry, very cheap, and all mine.” Ricky grinned, lighting some candles.
Jason took in his surroundings. It was a small damp room with a bed against the wall. A chrome clothes rail on wheels, the type normally seen in clothing stores, stood next to the bed with some clothes hanging. Jason guessed they were Ricky’s clothes due to the size. He had a table and one chair. Against the wall was an old sofa; in the candlelight it was difficult to make out the color. A couple of posters of naked women caught Jason’s attention.
A small room exited off from the main room, it contained a sink, a bath, and a toilet that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years.
“You got no electric?” Jason asked. Ricky looked up. He turned on a battery-powered transistor radio.
“I said it’s not Buckingham Palace. I don’t need electric. I got water, and it’s cold so when I take a bath I’m in and out in two minutes. Sometimes I go to the public swimming pool; its heated and they have hot showers. I only sleep here. It belongs to my boss.”
“It’s nice I suppose.” Jason forced a smile.
Ricky took a blanket off his bed and threw it at Jason.
“You can sleep on the couch; it’s plenty long enough for you. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to my boss.” Ricky kicked off his shoes and pulled his socks off. He gave them a sniff and screwed his face up. He took them to the sink, washed them and hung them over the back of a chair to dry. He stripped off to his underwear before climbing into bed. Jason took off his jacket and shoes, but kept the rest on to keep warm.
*
Ray Steed called SYUI the following morning and asked to speak to Barbara Inkpen.
“Hello, Mr. Steed. How can I help you?” Barbara asked in her usual bubbly tone.
“I know you said you would call me at noon with Jason’s progress, but I didn’t sleep that well and just wanted to know how it went,” Ray asked.
Barbara paused.
“Mr. Steed, why are you asking me?”
“You told me that you would be my liaison with Jason and I could call anytime.”
“Jason should be home with you, sir.” A terrible feeling started to snake around her insides she was dreading the reply.
“Are you bloody joking or what? Jason is working for you.” Ray raised his voice.
“No sir, the mission went wrong, and George called it off. Jason was going to catch a taxi home at about seven last night.”
Ray threw some of the best curse words at the SYUI officer he had in his arsenal. And after serving for sixteen years in the Royal Navy he had quite a large vocabulary. He was incensed that they had lost touch with Jason. SYUI immediately put out an alert for Jason
When George heard the news, he wasn't too concerned. He knew if anyone could look after himself, Jason could.
*
“You got any money left?” Ricky asked.
“No.” Jason yawned, stretching his arms.
“Well, today will be a first and last. The first and last time I buy you breakfast. Got it?”
“Yeah, thanks. If you get me a job, I won’t need your money.” Jason smiled.
“So would you do anything for money and a place to live?” Ricky asked.
“Anything?” Jason paused. “I suppose, I gotta eat and live somewhere. I’m not going home.” He smiled, took out his comb, and tried to get his hair under control. His long, blond bangs were sticking up in all directions. After wetting it, he soon got it to look how he wanted it.
They went to a small café called Mick’s. Mick was a builder by trade who lost half his foot in an accident with a cement mixer. He wore an apron, the same apron he had been wearing all weak. It hung over his large stomach. He had not shaved today and was suffering from a ‘hang over’ after a heavy drinking session the night before, celebrating Crystal Palace Foo
tball Club's victory over Manchester United. He had a cigarette in the corner of his mouth with half an inch of ash hanging from it. Most ash simply spilled down his apron or worse still, into the food he was preparing for customers.
You could get a mug of tea, eggs, bacon, sausages, and beans all served with thick white sliced bread and butter. It was cheap, greasy, and hot. Each Formica covered table not only supported half full bottles of tomato sauce, salt, and pepper, but also a century’s worth of grease. His food was crude but popular with the locals when served with a steaming hot mug of strong tea.
Ricky ordered two breakfasts and sat opposite Jason. He looked serious for once.
“I’m gonna introduce you to Kelvin Kissinger later. He’s a good guy. Look after you he will. Just don’t ever cross him,” Ricky warned while tipping some salt into his hand and throwing it over his shoulder for luck.
“I won’t cross him, if he can get me a job. What sort of job would it be?” Jason asked.
Ricky paused and looked around the room before leaning forward and whispering.
“Em, well that’s up to Ricky.” He paused again and squeezed a spot on his cheek. “Some things you may not like. I’ve done it, but now that I’m older I do other jobs. Just do as you’re told and think of the money you’ll make. He’s gonna like you.” Ricky smiled, wiping the pus from his spot onto his jeans.
*
Ricky thumped on a black door. It was the back of an adult strip club. The door opened, and a woman who looked nearly sixty with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth looked out.
“Oh, it’s you.” She sneered, and opened the door fully to allow the boys in.
“Hello, darling. How are yer? Have you missed me?” Ricky grinned.
“Missed you and your cocky face like a hole in me bloody head. Don’t walk on that side I just mopped the floor.”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me, Sharon. Me and you should get it on and run away together to a tropical island.” Ricky joked.
“What have you been bloody smoking? Tropical island my arse. I got to clean this place and wouldn’t you know it, some punter threw up in the gents bathroom last night. No consideration for me that’s gotta clean it.” Sharon moaned. Sharon had worked at the club for over thirty years. She originally started as a stripper during the war, ten years later, when she got too old and fat to strip, she became barmaid. Now she was demoted to cleaner.
Ricky walked on ahead. Jason followed, trying to take in his surroundings. The club smelt of cigarettes and stale beer. Ricky went into a door behind the bar. On his way, he picked up a bag of crisps. After a steep flight of stairs, he walked down a hallway.
“Mr. Kissinger, I got another recruit for you. He cost me breakfast,” Ricky said with his hand raised out.
“Well, it looks like you helped yourself to the crisps, so we can call it quits,” Kissinger snapped. He looked up and saw Jason following. “That’s the third boy this week. What is it with you? I need girls. I got bloody boys coming out my ears. Still, very nice, come here,” he said looking at Jason.
Kissinger was a lot younger than Jason had expected. In his late twenties, he had long hair and a thick moustache. He wore faded denim jeans and a black Led Zeppelin T-shirt. On top of that he wore a sleeveless leather waistcoat. Jason walked up to him and held out his hand.
“Very nice, yes very nice, Ricky. Blond and blue eyes. What are you, eleven?” Kissinger asked stroking Jason’s hair and walking around and admiring him.
“I’m twelve.” Jason smiled at the man.
“I suppose you want somewhere to live, food, and money? You’ll be wanting a job, and I suppose you expect Uncle Kelvin to take you in and give you a job,” Kissinger asked with a sneer.
“Yes, please, sir.” Jason found it hard not to grin. He couldn't believe how lucky he'd been to find this creep, and once he got the chance, he would call SYUI. He was hoping this would put him back in their good books, after the restroom incident.
“Shall I take him to the Chicken Ranch?” Ricky asked.
The what? Jason thought to himself.
“Yes go straight there. I have to make a phone call. I got a special client. We call him the doctor.” Kissinger took out a small black book from his waistcoat and searched for a phone number.
Ricky held out his hand and waited. Kissinger noticed it out of the corner of his eye and groaned.
“You kids bleed me dry,” he complained as he handed over forty pounds.
Ricky grinned and gave a salute before tugging Jason with him.
“I’m taking you to the Chicken Ranch. You may see me around from time to time, but I don’t work there anymore. I’m now a recruiter. You’ll be given anything you want. It’s like heaven.” Ricky smiled as he jumped down the stairs two at a time.
“Am I working on a chicken farm or something?” Jason asked, confused by the terms. Ricky stopped and looked at Jason.
“You daft sod, how can anyone be so bloody green? You'll find out when you get there. They'll give you the best clothing, best food, any games you want,” Ricky said, shaking his head.
Jason thought it best not to say anything else. They walked two streets and came to Richmond Mews, a nicer part of Soho in the center of London. The houses were three stories tall with a basement. They stopped at one of the largest homes on Richmond Mews, a three-story double fronted building with a basement. Rather than using the front door, Ricky went down the steps to the lower kitchen door in the basement. In Victorian times, this section was used for staff. He banged on the door and waited.
A woman in her late fifties opened the door. She had blonde hair that was going grey and the largest chest Jason had ever seen. He couldn’t help but stare.
“Ricky, come in. So this is the new boy Kelvin just called me about.” She smiled and held out her hand to Jason. “Hello, love. Nice to meet ya. I’m Betty, you must be Jason.”
“Yeah, Betty as in, Betty you ain’t seen boobs that big.” Ricky laughed. She was fast and smacked him across the side of his head.
“That’s enough of your bloody cheek, young man. And you can wipe the smile off your face Jason unless you want a clout,” snapped Betty. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room, and you can meet the others.
Betty gave Jason a tour of the basement. The kitchen was huge and full of anything he wanted, cans of Coke, candy and fresh fruit. She took him up the stairs to the living area. In the front room two boys about ten years old were lying on the floor playing Monopoly. A girl no older than eight sat with a doll on her lap, brushing its hair. The TV was on, but no one was watching. Jason thought they all seemed happy. They all said hello. One of the boys asked if Jason would be sharing their room. When Betty said yes, both boys grinned at him.
Chapter Four
Jason made small talk with some of the boys; all of them had run away from home, some had been here for several months. At five in the evening, Betty called them all down for dinner. She served them sausages and mashed potatoes. Jason knew he would soon have to find a way of contacting SYUI, and after listening to the conversations around the dining room table, he had to act fast. Twelve children sat around the long dining table. They laughed and joked. Jason thought they acted somewhat immature for their ages.
He looked across the table at a girl he guessed was around fourteen. She was pretty with large brown eyes and light brown hair tied in ponytails.
“Hi, I’m Jason.” He smiled.
She looked at him and seemed annoyed. “Just because you got pretty blue eyes and good looks don’t think I’m gonna be your friend new boy.” She tutted.
Jason grinned at her. “Why? I’m not asking you out. I just said hi,” he croaked. His voice cracked much to his embarrassment. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. His voice seemed to change pitch at will.
She looked down her nose at him and continued. “Huh, as if I would go out if someone under sixteen anyway.”
Betty came into the dining room carrying a large bowl
of ice cream. “Who wants ice cream?”
“I do,” A deep voice replied. It was Kissinger. He strolled into the dining room followed by a man wearing a suit and tie in his forties.
“Uncle Kelvin.” A harmonious call came from the children. Jason just looked on.
“Hi kids, hello Jason. I hope you're settling in okay. Denise, good news for you. The doctor has a job for you, so it’s goodbye for now. Go with Mr. Spencer up to your room and pack.”
The girl Jason had tried to talk to nodded and got up. She smiled at the man and went up stairs. The man who Kissinger called Mr Spencer followed.
Jason stood and turned to Kissinger. “Where are Denise and that man going?” Kissinger glared back at him.
“You ask a lot of questions. You don’t need to worry about what others do here. Nosey.” He tapped his nose.
Jason paused for a moment. Betty and Kissinger both watched him. He wasn't sure what Denise had to do. Maybe it was harmless, but maybe it wasn’t. Either way, he decided now was the time to act. He ran up the stairs after Denise. By the time he made it up the top of the stairs a bedroom door was being closed. He opened it and stormed in.
Denise was putting her clothes in a bag and looked surprised to see him. Spencer looked annoyed. Jason had no time to think. He had to act. He heard Kissinger running up the stairs.
“Jason, what the hell do you think you are doing? This is none of your concern. Get to your room right now,” Kissinger shouted.
Jason paused, trying to piece everything together. If he was wrong about his assessment, he would be made to look foolish in the eyes of SYUI. He started to leave the room and stopped while he thought to himself. But if I’m right, I've got to stop this now.
He stood on his toes and faced Kissinger. “You sick moron. You sell children to creeps like this doctor character, and we never see them again. This creep's just as bad.” He pointed at Mr Spencer.
“Kissinger, what the hell is this? We didn’t pay you all that money for this treatment. Deal with it,” Mr Spencer protested, his face turning red.