‘Now I had a capture, done me time, head down, arse up. A capture and a half and all, over twenty years.’
Big John started to cut another line.
‘But it’s real life, ain’t it? You’ll do a lump one day, son, because you won’t sell out your mates, see? It’s all part of the learning curve for people like us.’
Jon Jon’s mouth was dry from the unaccustomed cocaine. He had left it alone for months. But he also knew it was because he was getting nervous. This was clearly personal for Big John. Jon Jon had suddenly realised that he was expected to serve Paulie up to him on a plate.
‘Maybe he was just lucky?’
Big John laughed again, louder this time, and then in the blink of an eye he was not smiling. Staring Jon Jon full in the face, he said, ‘No one is that fucking lucky, boy. If he had that much luck going spare he’d be getting a cheque from Dale Winton. Think about it.’
Jon Jon thought about it, he didn’t have much choice. It was all going pear-shaped and he didn’t know what to do. He would just have to sit this out and play it by ear. There was no way he was walking out of here with the hump, he would be lucky to get as far as the lifts.
But, for all that, Big John was making a deadly kind of sense.
Jeanette walked into the flat full of smiles and good humour. Joanie wasn’t in the mood for either. In fact, Jeanette was the last person she had expected to see tonight.
Time was when her daughter coming home was a cause for rejoicing, but not now. She tried to keep her temper while Jeanette poured herself a drink and informed her that she was staying the night. She said it as if she was doing her mother the favour of a lifetime.
Joanie smiled with difficulty.
‘If you don’t mind, love, I need the place to meself tonight.’
Jeanette grinned.
‘Oh, yeah! You on a promise?’
Joanie smiled as best she could.
‘You could say that.’
‘Oh, come on, Mum! Tell me.’
She saw her daughter’s evident pleasure and knew that whatever else had happened to this family, Jeanette had come out of it all a better person. It was what she had needed, a bit of an eye opener. But what a price Joanie had had to pay to see this other daughter of hers smile at her with real affection.
‘There’s nothing to tell, love.’ Joanie took a vodka from her and sipped it before saying quietly, ‘Just do me a favour, will you, and go back round Jasper’s?’
Jeanette picked up on the nervousness in her mother’s voice.
‘What’s going on here?’
She was suspicious now, she knew a blank when she got one.
‘Nothing, love. I just need the place to meself.’
‘Oh, leave it out, Mum. Do I look like a lemon?’
Jeanette was trying to make light of it all and Joanie gave her top marks for that. But she wanted her out of the house before she saw Bethany and started asking questions. She really didn’t need this tonight. Jeanette would just confuse the situation.
As her daughter walked towards the bedroom she’d shared with Kira, Joanie bellowed in annoyance.
‘Why can’t you just for once do what the fuck I ask?’
Jeanette turned to look at her mother.
‘What’s going on here?’
Joanie took a deep breath before she replied, ‘Please, Jeanette. Just go to Jasper’s, will you?’
Her voice was tired-sounding and she looked even more battered than usual.
‘Mum, please, what’s going on?’
Joanie pulled herself upright and shouted as loud as she could: ‘Would you just fuck off! For once in your life, just do what I’m asking, will you?’
Jeanette stared at her for long seconds before saying nastily, ‘Well, thanks a fucking bunch, Mother.’
She was mortally offended now and Joanie wanted to make it all better but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she had found out what she needed to know. Jeanette would just hassle the girl and that was the last thing Bethany needed now. It was taking all Joanie’s own will-power not to beat the truth out of the poor kid, for all her noble thoughts. Whereas Jeanette, if she knew the score, would not think about it twice. She would punch first and think later.
She was her mother’s daughter in that respect.
Jeanette stormed out of the flat and slammed the door. Joanie sank down on to the floor. She didn’t know what the hell to do. For the first time in her life, she didn’t know how to make it all better.
In the bedroom Bethany was shrinking into the sheets and wondering what all the shouting was about. The only thing she knew was that this trouble was over her.
Big John was flying and he looked like he was flying. He was red in the face, talking nineteen to the dozen, but his head was as clear as the water skimming a tropical beach.
But the coke had also made him aggressive and he had no intention of pussy-footing round Jon Jon any more. He said as much.
‘Are Jesmond and Paulie working a flanker? It’s an easy question - a yes or no will fucking suffice. I ain’t in the mood now for cunting around, OK?’
Jon Jon nodded.
‘I think so.’
He’d decided to burn his boats and go in with Big John, even though in his heart of hearts he knew that in reality he had no choice but to comply with what this man wanted.
That was the up side of being a legend like John McClellan. People always did what you wanted in the end. It was the law of the street, and Jon Jon had always respected that law.
Paulie was suddenly an unknown entity. Until today he had been the boy’s role model, and Jon Jon had been grateful for his tutelage. But had he been messing with a beast, and the worst kind of beast imaginable at that? Was Paulie the proverbial wolf in sheep’s clothing?
It looked like it. No matter how much he tried to dress things up in his head it seemed to Jon Jon like Paulie was tainted. And in their world the stench of nonce would not, could not, be tolerated.
He sighed so deeply he felt empty inside.
‘According to Jesmond, he worked with Paulie and Pippy. They had girls and kids brought in from Eastern Europe then sold them on.’
He snorted another line before saying, ‘I want to see Pippy about it now but according to you, your boy’s in league with him so I need to know exactly where that leaves me. Do I have to go through you, John?’
He looked the man in the face, fair and square.
Big John leaned back against a granite work top, his craggy face frozen into a mask of grief. He put his head into his hands, big shoulders shaking as if he was trying not to cry. He stood like that for some minutes, the tension mounting in the room.
Then he seemed to come round and, looking up at the boy in front of him, said seriously, ‘It leaves you open to taking my boy out of the ball game, don’t it?’
He held one big well-manicured hand over his mouth for a moment as if he was going to be sick, then said sadly, ‘It’ll kill my Kathy. He’s her youngest, but I can’t protect him, son. Don’t want to, not if he’s trafficking in kids. But you have to do it because I can’t. If I did I could never look my old woman in the face again. And for all my faults, I love her, like I loved Kieron once. Weak and foolish as he was, I loved that boy.’
He was cutting lines again but Jon Jon saw his hands were shaking. When he had finished he looked at his namesake and said sadly, ‘You’d better see this.’
He left the room and Jon Jon heard him walking up the wrought-iron staircase to the gallery bedroom. Jon Jon felt as if he was in some kind of dream. He wondered if this was all happening. Was this man really expecting Jon Jon to waste his youngest son for him?
When John came back into the room he handed over a paper folder, like the ones kids use at school.
‘Open it, look inside.’
Jon Jon opened it with trepidation. Now it had come on top he wasn’t actually sure he wanted to go any further. He felt a bit like Pandora except he knew that whatever was left in the box it
would not be hope. Hope had fucked off years before and there was no chance of it ever coming back.
‘Are you sure about this, John?’
The man placed a heavy hand on his shoulder.
‘Your mother done a fucking blinding job with you. Everyone says so. They talk about how well you looked after her and your sisters. About what a strong person you are. I admire that, see. My eldest boys are like that. Fuckers admittedly, I ain’t disputing it, but my youngest, my Kieron, he’s a cunt. Only I never believed it until I saw these photos. Got them off his PC myself. There’s no doubt about what he’s done himself. I just needed to know if he was a client or in on the arranging like.’
He poked a finger in Jon Jon’s face.
‘You never tell a soul what you see in there tonight, right? My other boys will be informed but only after the event. They’ll not know the half of it, just enough to shut them up. You’ll understand why I want it kept quiet. I’ll dispose of his body meself. But I want you to do this little job for me, and then I’ll owe you, son, fucking big time.’
He cleared his throat noisily before saying: ‘Now look inside that fucking folder, will you?’
‘Will I see my sister?’
Jon Jon needed to know that first. Before he delved into this folder and burned his boats once and for all.
‘Nah, you won’t, and when you look in there you’ll thank God for that fact the rest of your life. Me, I have to live with knowing my boy is a filthy pervert, and worse than that even. Someone who’s made it easy for other sick fucks to ruin little children.’
Reluctantly Jon Jon opened the folder and took out the printed images. As he stared at them he felt the bile rise up inside him.
Kieron McClellan was there in glorious Technicolor with small children, girls and boys. It was enough to bring the bile from his stomach into his mouth. He threw up into the state-of-the-art kitchen sink until his ribs hurt. All he could taste was lager and cocaine. Big John rubbed his back until he was finished.
Jon Jon looked into the big man’s face.
‘I’m so sorry, mate.’
And he was too. To see what he had just seen and to know that the perpetrator was your own flesh and blood had to be the worst thing that could happen to anyone.
Big John opened the large American fridge and took out a bottle of Bourbon and a bowl of ice.
‘I still can’t get me head round it. I go over it time and time again and still I can’t make any sense of it. And you know the worst of it all, don’t you? Paulie Martin is financing the lot of it.’
He shook his head at the skulduggery of his one-time friend.
‘Now, you in or out, son?’
Jon Jon took the bottle of Bourbon and poured them both a large drink.
‘I’m in.’
Big John smiled, his first unfeigned smile of the night.
‘Good lad. I knew you wouldn’t bottle out. Cheers, Jon Jon. You’re doing the right thing.’
Chapter Twenty-Five
Joanie smoked a cigarette and tried to calm herself down. One part of her just wanted to walk away from the flat and leave this whole sorry situation behind her. But the other half knew she had no choice. She had to sit this one out, and more importantly sort it out as best she could.
But even though she hated Little Tommy with a vengeance she had been hard pressed to hurt him, and in her heart of hearts wasn’t sure she now wanted to know exactly what had happened to her daughter.
She had enough trouble sleeping as it was - how would she feel if she knew the full score? And as for poor Jeanette . . . Well, she would not easily forgive her mother for this night’s work, especially when she found out what had really been going on. She would feel she had been pushed out, would feel she was not considered good enough to be included, which was not true but what the girl would choose to believe.
Joanie finally went into the bedroom and saw that Bethany had turned on the small portable TV and was watching Recess on the kids’ channel.
‘All right, sweetie?’
The girl turned and stared at her with dead eyes.
‘Can we talk now, Joanie?’
She nodded and sat down on the bed beside her. Bethany moulded herself into Joanie’s body and she instinctively hugged the child to her.
Bethany stared at the screen for a few seconds while they got comfortable then she said sadly, ‘Kira was a good girl. Not like me.’
Joanie felt her heart racing once more in her chest.
‘Tell me, darling. Tell Auntie Joanie how it was.’
‘You see, me and Kira, we used to go round Lorna’s. But Kira didn’t like it there, said it was too dirty and that you would kill her if you found out about it. Then Little Tommy came on the scene and she started to spend all her time with him. I was jealous. She was always talking about him. But I knew about the Thompsons, and he knew I did.’
Joanie swallowed deeply before saying, ‘What did you know, Bethany?’
She still stared at the screen, unwilling to look Joanie in the face.
‘About his dad.’
‘What about his dad?’
‘He was always looking at her, but he was too scared of Tommy, see. I will give him that, Tommy wouldn’t let his dad near Kira.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Joanie asked, dry-mouthed. The girl shrugged her plump shoulders.
‘He used to come to one of the houses where Pippy took me.’
Joanie closed her eyes to blot out the vision those words conjured up.
‘Are we talking about Tommy or his dad?’
‘Not Tommy, it was his dad, Joseph. He kept away from me, though, and I always acted like I didn’t know him.’
She looked at Joanie sidelong.
‘But he never got near Kira, Tommy made sure of that. I know for a fact.’
So the father was the nonce. But what about Tommy? What exactly was he? Joanie led into it slowly.
‘So he never touched you - Joseph Thompson, I mean?’
Bethany shook her head.
‘He was too scared of me, like I said. Lorna knew him from before, see. She gets the kids for Pippy and his mate Kieron. It’s Kieron who hosts the parties for men like Joseph. He loves it, and unlike Pippy he’s really nice. But Tommy’s dad, he liked his girls to be small - small and skinny. Blonde if possible. I was never his cup of tea. Now Kieron, he loved me . . .’
Joanie had heard enough but forced herself to carry on the interrogation.
‘Where was this house you went to then?’
‘The one I went to the most was in Ilford, like I said, just off Mortlake Road.’ Bethany grinned then. ‘I used to go to other people’s houses too when I’d learned to do it properly. Pippy said I was a natural.’
It was said with a dreadful pride. The one thing she had been praised for in her life, and it had to come from a nonce. What a criminal waste of a child’s innocence and trust.
Joanie felt so angry with Monika then she wondered if the friendship which had had more ups and downs than the Japanese Stock Market would survive this.
Bethany went on dreamily, ‘Some of the houses were really lovely, like you see on telly. And they gave me drink and fags and laughed at me. They liked me, Joanie. They said so. And they gave me money. Me mum thought I got it shoplifting stuff and selling it on.’
Joanie looked down into the little girl’s face. Her soft hair was drying now, springing up all over her head. It made her look so young. Her big brown eyes were sad, like the eyes of so many women Joanie had worked with over the years.
This child knew all there was to know already, and the worst of it was it would be years before the horror of that knowledge finally hit her. She wouldn’t want it to, of course, and by then she would be into drugs and drink to blot out the pain of a life lived too young. All she would have left of herself was her anger, and it would be all-consuming, Joanie knew that from experience.
There was still one thing left to ask.
‘What about Kira, what ha
ppened to her?’
Bethany sipped at the can of Coke beside the bed before she spoke. Joanie could see the child trying to pull herself together.
‘I saw her on her way up the shops, like I said. We had a row - my fault.’ She was quick to take the blame on herself. ‘She ran off and I chased her. That’s when Pippy Light stopped in the car and spoke to her.’
Joanie felt faint with fright.