and of course, whoever had agreed to it had been a mug or a pussy, or both. No one would tell him what to do, and once he’d spoken to Mr Lee everything would get sorted and he, Alfie would carry on with his get-money-fast plan.
Of course he hadn’t told anyone what he was doing, but he’d spent his life playing by the rules of Soho and now it was time for Alfie to start to think about himself. And setting up this gambling club was doing exactly that. By the time word did get out to the other faces that he’d opened a casino behind everyone’s back, he’d be hopefully lying on the Costa del Sol with Franny, because that’s what it was all about. Having enough money behind him to wave goodbye to Soho and spend the rest of his days with Franny Doyle.
‘Ah, Mr Jennings, Lin is downstairs waiting for you.’ One of Mr Lee’s men opened the door to the basement office in Gerrard Street, Soho. He bowed courteously to Alfie, who scowled and growled at the man.
‘I ain’t here to see the monkey, I’m here to see the organ grinder. I want to see Mr Lee. Where is he?’
The man didn’t react, simply saying, ‘As I said, Lin is downstairs. He’d be delighted if you joined him for tea.’
Having no choice, Alfie followed the man along the dimly lit corridors to a white door which was opened by a smiling Lin.
‘Mr Jennings, a pleasure.’
‘Ain’t no pleasure for me mate, where’s your boss?’
‘I’m afraid Mr Lee doesn’t see visitors without an appointment.’
‘What is he, a fucking doctor? I ain’t here to get me cholesterol checked, I’m here to give him a piece of me mind, and get this sorted out.’
Lin smiled, looking amused. ‘A piece of your mind; what a strange expression, Mr Jennings, a curiosity quite how that would be achieved, unless of course someone puts an axe in your head.’
Alfie’s face darkened. He hated dealing with foreigners, especially smarmy ones, and the Chinese were the worst for that. To Alfie they had an air about them that made him feel they were looking down at him; that they thought themselves superior to him in some way.
‘Look, keep the chat to yourself, Lin, I want to make this short. Tell Lee to back off Soho.’
Lin roared with laughter, causing Alfie to seethe with even more anger.
‘And why would he do that?’
‘Well if he knows what’s good for him he will.’
Lin, a tall muscular man with dark eyes and poker-straight hair tied in a ponytail, was deadpan in his response. ‘Mr Jennings, aren’t they the same words we gave you when you came to ask us before about opening a casino? We told you not to, if you knew what was good for you, yet here you are demanding that we back off. Too late, Mr Jennings; the dove no longer carries the olive branch.’
Alfie stepped forward towards Lin. ‘Listen pal, I like straight talk, you can save all that spiel for the fortune cookies. I’m telling you, back off Soho.’
‘You broke the rules, Mr Jennings, you should’ve thought about that before. All these attacks on Soho are your making. If you had let things be, left the casinos to us, then everything would have been fine.’
‘That’s bullshit, you would’ve come sooner or later. We both know that.’
Lin contemplated Alfie’s words. ‘Perhaps you’re right, but you’ll never know now the rules have been broken.’
Frustrated, Alfie shouted, ‘There ain’t no fucking rules, and your name’s not Hasbro, you don’t have the monopoly on casinos. There’s enough punters to go around for us all to have a share.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. There are rules, ones which you have disobeyed, and it would be in your best interest to stop with your casino now before it’s too late.’
Alfie looked curious. ‘And if I did, that would make you back off Soho?’
‘Oh no, like I say, Mr Jennings, it’s all gone too far, but it would keep you safe. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else I need to be.’
Lin walked away but stopped, turning back round to face Alfie. ‘Oh, and if it’s straight talk you want, then how about this, Mr Jennings … Don’t fuck with us or you’re a dead man.’
‘I don’t get it. Why now? Why fucking make a ruck after all these years?’ Vaughn Sadler shook his head as he paced about in Bateman Street, speaking to Lola. He watched as his men boarded up her café; it was the least he could do. Lola didn’t have the means or probably the insurance to get the place up and running again and besides it being her livelihood, Vaughn also knew how much it meant to her.
The café gave her a purpose, kept her as part of the community within the only life she’d ever known. Years ago Lola had been a Tom, working street corners and living with various pimps, and although she had been harder, tougher and not a woman to mess with, she’d still been Lola. Ferociously loyal; someone who would do anything for anybody.
‘Watch what yer bleeding doing! When I want a bunch of frigging muppets fixing me caff, I’ll call Disney.’ Lola shouted at the men, making Vaughn smile. The fire was only superficial and it clearly was only a warning; nothing that a little work and a fresh coat of paint and a few builders couldn’t fix. But the one thing Vaughn knew they couldn’t fix was how he felt.
Last night was a wake-up call for him. Until then, he’d seen the summons to come back to Soho as an inconvenience. But that was then and this was now, and now had just got personal.
The attacks on businesses in Soho over the last few weeks had been troubling, but nothing that had kept him awake at night. He didn’t really know the owners of these places and in consequence he’d been able to keep a distance from it all, but Lola? An attack on Lola Harding, who’d been there through so many hard times with him; that was different. And if the triads wanted an all-out war, then that’s exactly what they were going to get.
Lighting a cigar, something which was a relatively new habit, Vaughn continued to mull things over. He didn’t get it. He just didn’t get why the triads would make a move now. They’d lived in relative harmony for all these years, with Shaftesbury Avenue acting not only as a road dividing Soho and Chinatown but also acting as the separation of the two turfs.
They had an understanding, an unwritten rule about trespassing into each other’s territories or challenging each other’s businesses and so far it’d worked; since as far back as Vaughn could remember. So what had changed? What had gone wrong to warrant these unprovoked attacks? He honestly had no clue, but he certainly was going to find out, and when he did, whoever was behind it, he was going to stop. Once and for fucking all. And that was certainly worth coming out of retirement for.
‘Excuse me, I’m looking for Lola Harding?’ A man walked round the corner.
Vaughn eyed him suspiciously. ‘Who’s asking?’
‘These are for her.’ The man held a large bunch of lilies in his hand.
Hearing they were for her, Lola ran up to the man, snatching the flowers off him as her eyes twinkled in delight. ‘Bleedin’ hell, look at that. Ain’t they beautiful Vaughnie? I wonder who they’re
