LITMIR.BIZ

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along the shady side of Beak Street and turning right into Great Windmill Street, Teddy noticed a few girls standing on the corner. They couldn’t have been older than sixteen, seventeen. Short skirts, tits pushed up to their chins and enough make-up to cover a football pitch. He didn’t recognise any of them but he didn’t have to guess very hard to know who they belonged to. He frowned, instantly knowing it was another new influx of Russian girls, which was the last thing he needed. There was already too many rumblings for him to deal with as it was.

      The Russian pimps were difficult to deal with; they overcharged and ripped off their punters. Not to mention turning them over and leaving them half battered in alleyways, which lead to complaints at the station, bringing unwanted attention to the goings-on in Soho. The girls themselves were nearly as bad as their pimps. Hardened bitches, refusing to give pussy away for free.

      Turning away and heading towards Old Compton Street, Teddy sighed. He’d have to deal with it later; find out what was going on. One thing he didn’t like was being ripped off and not getting what was due to him. It’d taken him a long time to get control of the one square mile of Soho, making sure the pimps, hookers and launderers were all in their place. It was his territory and no one, not even the ruthless Russian mafia, was going to come in and piss on it. After all, he was Teddy Davies and if anyone got in his way, he was going to make sure they never got in his way again.

      Walking into the cool air of Whispers bar, Teddy waved to Alfie Jennings, the owner of the club and a well-respected face in Soho. Teddy had a lot of time for Alfie. He was old school and knew the score. Pay up and shut up, and in return he kept the law off his back, which for Teddy was easy. He was the law.

      Sitting down at one of the tables, Teddy knocked back the complimentary drink Alfie had just sent over; double whisky on the rocks.

      ‘How’s tricks?’

      Teddy glanced up to see the grinning face of Del Williams. Of all the people he had to deal with, Del was the one who made him feel the most uneasy. It wasn’t just because of his imposing physical presence. There was something else. Something about Del that told him he was only biding his time until he took over completely, that he was waiting to stab him in the back at any given opportunity, and for that reason, Teddy Davies had to watch Del like the proverbial hawk.

      The problem Teddy had with Del was that he was one of the big ones. The biggest face and the biggest dealer around. He had influence and the kind of power Teddy could only dream of. He couldn’t just get rid of him and get him banged-up, or dispose of him like some of the others who’d crossed him. He certainly couldn’t risk having Del as an enemy, but then, Teddy also knew he couldn’t just let Del do what he wanted either.

      He needed to keep him tabbed, but increasingly Teddy was finding this harder and harder to do, especially as Del was now branching out with the Russians along the Costa del Sol. He knew it wouldn’t be long until he joined forces with the Russians over here; that’s if he hadn’t already done so.

      What he didn’t know was how long Del would want or need to continue paying him the money to keep any shit from falling at his door. The idea of this rankled Teddy, kept him awake at night. If it wasn’t for him, Del and his cronies wouldn’t be anywhere near as big as they were now. And they certainly wouldn’t have stayed away from the inside of a prison cell. He’d made them who they were today, and all he asked in return was a cut of their money. And a cut of their drugs. But what thanks did he get? He got as much gratitude as crabs on a whore.

      With a tight smile and a begrudging handshake, Teddy greeted Del. ‘Good thanks. Just come to collect my usual. We don’t want to get behind now, do we?’

      Del’s features scrunched into a scowl. His face darkened, causing the twinkle in his eyes to disappear. ‘Ted. Mate. Don’t come here and talk shit. I don’t like people who disrespect me. I value my reputation. Tell me something, mate. When I have ever got behind in anything I’ve owed you?’

      Teddy Davies stared back, but not as hard and not as confidently as the penetrating gaze coming from Del Williams. He swallowed, and was almost able to hear the whisky going down above the music playing in the bar.

      From the corner of his eye, Teddy could see Alfie Jennings watching with interest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be going down. How was he meant to maintain control when the likes of Del Williams thought he had the monopoly on Soho?

      Unable to maintain the stare, Teddy turned away, muttering something inaudible.

      ‘I can’t hear you, Ted, you need to speak louder mate.’

      Teddy looked at Del. He could tell he was enjoying this. Squeezing the balls out of him and making him grovel. And by the looks of Alfie Jennings’ grin, he was enjoying seeing his obvious discomfort as well.

      Clearing his throat and cursing the fact he could feel himself beginning to blush, Teddy spoke, his voice laden with humiliation.

      ‘Never, Del. You’ve never got behind with anything.’

      ‘Never. That’s exactly right my son, so never let me hear you say otherwise.’

      It was all too much for Teddy, who went to stand up, wanting to get away from the mocking eyes as quickly as he could. He’d get his money later. But as he did, he felt the firm grip of Del’s hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down into the purple velvet chair.

      ‘Not so fast. I reckon I deserve something else, don’t you? One little word beginning with S and then, Ted my son, we can put all this behind us.’

      Teddy’s head shot up and he saw that the twinkle had returned to Del’s brown eyes. This couldn’t be happening to him – and to make it worse, his whole buzz had left him.

      ‘Well?’

      Teddy glanced round nervously. Over in the corner of the bar, he saw Alfie had been joined by two other well-known faces of London, Vaughn Sadler and Freddie Thompson, all of whom were staring at him as if they were watching the Christmas episode of EastEnders.

      Teddy turned back, taking in Del’s face, which was now only a few inches away from him. ‘I ain’t got all day, Ted.’

      It was almost choking him. Literally sticking in his throat and making it difficult for him to breathe.

      ‘S … s … so … sorry.’

      Del Williams threw his head back and let out a huge roar – showing off his expensive set of veneers – as he slapped a tense Teddy on the back.

      Teddy Davies watched with narrowed eyes as Del laughed. He watched Alfie, Vaughn and he watched Freddie. All laughing. All having a giggle at his expense. The fury rose inside him. He had to do something. Del had begun to cause him nothing but aggro and he certainly knew he couldn’t trust him.

      Somehow, he needed to rein Del in, but quite how, Teddy Davies hadn’t figured out yet. But he would, and when he did, it’d be him throwing his head back and laughing as he wiped the stupid arrogant smile off Del Williams’ face.

      Standing in the afternoon sun on Drury Lane an hour later, Del was feeling pleased with himself. Very pleased. He was looking forward to the trip to Marbella with Bunny. In fact, he felt a bit like a school kid. They’d never been away together before, not that he hadn’t tried to drag her away from Soho on many other occasions. He’d actually begged her, but it’d always been a firm no and then a dozen excuses. But this time he’d finally got her to budge. She’d promised and this time he wouldn’t take no or an excuse for an answer.

      Standing waiting in the London heat, Del’s mind crossed from Bunny to the Russians. A lot of people he knew didn’t want to deal with the Russian mafia, but they were the only people he wanted to deal with. They got things done and what they said was going to happen did happen. Everything was beginning to fall into place nicely. The deal he’d made with them to supply the coke for both the Costa and Soho had been a good call, though he could’ve gone for a better price. He didn’t like to think of that too much; what was done was done.

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