‘A what?’
‘Magnus Pike, dyke. She wouldn’t touch a dick if her life depended on it, so there’s no way of, you know, having a bit of fun with both of them together, which would definitely have helped to numb the pain of having to share her. But I don’t want to lose Amanda. I don’t know what I’d do if she pulled the plug on it. But it’s a bit of an odd fucking way to run a relationship, isn’t it?’
‘You know, Johnny,’ I said, taking a swig from my bottle of mineral water, ‘you are the only thirty-four-year- old I know who complains that he gets laid too much.’
‘It’s not like that, Max. Honest. I really love her, but I know what’s going to happen. Beatrix is going to make her choose between us.’
‘So buy her some flowers or something. Get in there first.’
‘No, Max, you don’t understand.’
‘I know I fucking don’t.’
‘Amanda says there’s something special about girl-on-girl love. It’s more gentle than the stuff you get with a bloke, more sort of tender. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Not really, Johnny, no. I’ve never really thought about it, to tell you the truth. I’ve seen women at it with each other in porno films, though, and they always seem to be enjoying themselves.’
‘I tell you, Amanda swears by it. Says it’s the only way for her to achieve a multiple orgasm. There’s no way she’s going to turn down that sort of action, is there? Which means it’ll be me who gets the old heave ho. It’s making my life a fucking misery, it really is.’
‘I’m sure there are millions of blokes out there who really sympathize.’
I turned away and stared out the window in the direction of Heavenly Girls, a hundred yards away down the road. It was raining steadily again, which at least was helpful. We’d been parking on the same stretch of road night after night, so we had to be careful about the amount of attention we attracted. Every wasted night increased the risks, not to mention the stiff-legged, claustrophobic boredom of it, blunting our senses and making reaction times just that little bit slower — something that could prove fatal in this sort of operation.
Johnny continued to rattle on about Amanda, Beatrix, Delia and all his other birds, but I was blanking him totally now. I had enough worries of my own. The waiting around was beginning to lead to the first rumblings of discontent from the others. Kalinski had suggested that snatching him froma place he only visited periodically, and with no obvious advance warning, was tempting fate, which was true I suppose, but there were no other suitable venues. Joe hadn’t helped matters either by remarking, after we’d finished a frustrating four-and-a-half-hour stint the previous night during which Kalinski had stunk the place out by shitting in a Tesco carrier bag, that maybe it might be an idea to knock the whole thing on the head. I knew Joe was feeling a bit spooked thanks to his almost daily visits from the Law, but I hoped it was just the frustration talking. If he — or, to be honest, any of us — pulled out then the whole thing was bolloxed and I’d be back to square one. On the run, skint, and with the near rape of my girlfriend unavenged.
I took another swig from the water as Johnny recounted how Beatrix was the dominant partner in the lesbian relationship even though she wasn’t good-looking at all, and was, in his opinion, bullying Amanda into dropping him. ‘She’s got whips and chains and everything,’ he explained, shaking his head. ‘Apparently, her gaff’s like a fucking torture chamber. She’s even got a selection of butt plugs. How’s Amanda meant to resist?’ In the back of the van, I could hear movement as they shuffled about trying to make themselves comfortable.
A Land Cruiser pulled up outside the brothel. It looked familiar. The time was ten to midnight.
‘Are you listening, Max, or are you fucking ignoring me?’ Johnny whined.
Krys Holtz, Big Mick and Fitz stepped out, and the car did a U-turn and pulled away, driving past us. It looked like the driver was Slim Robbie, and I wondered if he’d be coming back.
‘I’m ignoring you, Johnny,’ I told him, watching as Krys and his men rang the buzzer, and a couple of seconds later went inside. Johnny hadn’t seen them, which suited me fine. If he’d had half an inkling that our job was to kidnap Krys Holtz, he would have been out of the van faster than Wile E. Coyote and running all the way back to Amanda, Delia, even Beatrix and her butt plugs, without stopping.
‘I thought you was a mate of mine,’ said Johnny, sounding put out, but I hardly heard him. My blood was up, and like a youthful Elvis I was ready to rock and roll.
I banged three times in quick succession on the van’s interior panel, then twice slowly, the signal that they’d arrived. Three more bangs came back to acknowledge that the message had been received and understood.
‘Sorry, Johnny, but we’ve got work to do. Start driving.’
Johnny pulled the Mercedes van away from the kerb and drove slowly along the road until he was about fifteen yards past the entrance to Heavenly Girls.
‘All right, stop here,’ I told him. ‘Double park.’
‘Can you tell me what’s going on now, Max?’
‘No.’
I banged on the interior panel twice to let them know we were in position. The back doors opened and I saw Tugger Lewis in the wing mirror as he walked up the steps to the entrance. It was on.
I pressed the stopwatch and watched it as the seconds ticked by, knowing that this was it, the big one. Just like the old days. All my senses fusing together into one single core of absolute concentration. It’s life or death, this. Nothing’s got higher stakes. You fuck up, you die. Your life ends, just like that. Kaput! You’re history. But nothing beats it either. Nothing ever beats the pure adrenalin rush, the intensity, the sheer joy of battle. I bet not even one of Amanda’s multiple orgasms comes close.
Thirty seconds. Forty. Johnny said something to me, but I couldn’t hear him. His voice was just interference, meaningless. Fifty seconds. Time to go. I banged the interior panel five times in quick succession, put the stopwatch in my pocket, and stepped out of the van. I pressed my mouth against the half-open window. ‘Stay here,’ I said. ‘Do not move.’
I turned away before he could answer and walked towards the front entrance of the brothel, Joe and Kalinski coming up beside me. Joe had a holdall over his shoulder. No one spoke. As we walked, we took black balaclavas from the pockets of our regulation blue boiler suits, and pulled them over our heads. The rain was coming down in sheets and the street was empty. We didn’t look suspicious, we just looked like three normal kidnappers.
Kalinski pressed the buzzer and the door clicked open straight away. So Tugger had the reception area under control. Good. Part one had at least gone to plan. We stepped into the lift, and Joe put the holdall on the floor and took two automatic shotguns with sawn-off barrels out of it, handing one to Kalinski. He then pulled out a dozen spare shells which he stuck in one of the pockets of his boiler suit before replacing the holdall on his shoulder. We didn’t want to leave any evidence behind. While he was doing this, I produced the Glock, gave it a quick check, and chambered a round. We were ready.
The lift opened directly into the reception area and the three of us stepped out, weapons at the ready. Tugger was standing there in his suit, balaclava on, in front of a good-looking young receptionist with strawberry blonde hair. She had her hands flat down on the desk in front of her. Tugger was facing her but pointing his gun at two well-built doormen in dickie bows — one white, one black — both of whom had their hands arrow-straight above their heads, their faces suggesting there was no way they were going to be heroes. I couldn’t blame them. Being a hero can be a very overrated pastime. And you don’t even get paid.
The receptionist’s eyes widened when she saw us come striding in and she looked like she was going to scream. Tugger put a finger to his lips. ‘Now now, pet, don’t go causing a scene. No one wants to hurt a pretty little thing like you. Just tell us which room Krys Holtz is in.’
I saw the white doorman’s eyes widen, like he couldn’t believe we’d be messing around with someone like Krys Holtz. Believe it, my friend. Believe it.
‘He’s in the Lovers Suite on the next floor up,’ she stammered, keen to co-operate. ‘It’s the second door on your left when you come out of the lift.’
‘What about the other two with him?’
‘I don’t know which rooms they’ll be in, but they’ll be on the same floor. They always stay close together.’
Tugger pulled her to her feet while Joe and me handcuffed the two bouncers under the watchful eye of Kalinski. When they were secured, and Tugger had got hold of the CCTV tape, we shepherded the three of them towards the room to our left. At the same time a potbellied businessman emerged from it on the arm of a stunning- looking oriental girl.
