by Martina Cole
‘If only we knew exactly what was going on?’
‘Believe me, son, we will know. Because I am going to make it my business to find everything out. No good having a dog and barking yourself, is there?’
Mario smiled. ‘Well, that’s true enough anyway.’
He walked to the door and turned back slowly. ‘Look after her, won’t you? For all her newfound independence, she’ll be like a fish out of water on her own.’
Alan smiled gently. ‘Don’t worry, son, I’ll look after her, I promise you that much.’
The two men stared at one another for a few seconds.
‘I’m glad she’s got you, Mr Cox. Whatever happens, I know you’ll do your best for her.’
Then Mario was gone.
Alan sat back in his chair and sighed.
He wished he could look after her properly, every day, every night. But she was Georgio’s wife, and Georgio was his friend. Alan was getting sick and tired of telling himself that.
Throwing his cigar into the ashtray, he pulled himself from his seat. He had to get home and get packed.
He had under six hours before his flight.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Night was drawing in and Donna was busy watching the toddy tappers as the car sped into Hikkadoa. Raj, noticing her interest, slowed down and explained their role. He told her how the workers spent their days moving along ropes placed between one palm tree and the next, tapping the juice from the middle of the plants to make a brandy-type drink called Arrack. Donna smiled as the man warned her against drinking it, as it was very strong.
‘How far now to the hotel?’
Raj shrugged inside his off-white clothes. ‘I am not sure. This is Hikkadoa, now we have to find your destination.’
A woman walked past and he began talking to her in a fast heavy dialect. Donna saw the woman look at her and heard the incredulity in her reply. Then she walked off, pulling her sari around herself protectively.
The night was coming in fast and Donna felt a prickle of fear in this unknown place, with unknown people. The beautiful day was now turning into dark and threatening night. All the thrill of being there, seeing the sights and sounds, was overshadowed by fear of what she would find at the end of it all. In the bright daylight she had felt she could cope with anything. Now, in the deepening twilight, she was afraid, deeply afraid.
Taking a long breath, she lit another cigarette and smiled at Raj. ‘What did she say?’
He looked at her, perplexed. ‘Is Madam sure she wants the Bay View? Only there is very good hotels here that I could take you to.’
‘Really, I need to find the Bay View, and I need to find it soon.’
Raj didn’t move, just sat in his seat looking at her steadily.
‘And you are sure this is where your booking is for?’
Donna nodded again, harder this time.
‘Madam, I am not trying to call you anything bad like a liar, but I must tell you that Bay View is not a hotel at all. I don’t think you want to go there, Madam. Not at all.’
Donna looked into the rheumy eyes, took in the grimy face, dirty neck and none-too-clean clothes, and sighed once more. He was a nice old man, but was probably paid commission to send people like herself to other hotels. He was trying to make a few pounds. Opening her purse, she took out a thousand rupees, then another thousand.
‘These are for you if you take me to the Bay View, OK?’
Raj took the money and shook his head sadly.
‘I will take you, Madam, but you will not want to stay there, I know this.’
Opening her briefcase, Donna took out the brochure of the Bay View Hotel and pushed it across the seat to him.
‘See? It’s a very beautiful hotel.’
Raj looked down at the picture and shrugged. ‘I do not know of this hotel, Madam. I have never heard of this place.’
Donna smiled gently. ‘It’s not open to the public yet. It has not long been finished. I own it, you see. At least, my husband and I own it.’
Raj frowned and nodded at her. ‘Very well, Madam, I will take you there. But I have never been hearing of a new hotel in Hikkadoa.’
With that he restarted the car.
He drove slowly through the tiny village to the outskirts. As they approached a narrow dirt track there was a faded board proclaiming The Bay View Hotel, with a black arrow pointing towards the roadway.
Donna smiled in happy relief. ‘See? I told you it was here!’
As they drove up the unsurfaced track, avoiding the potholes, Donna saw a family of monkeys feeding. Instead of enjoying the sight, she felt it was somehow sinister.
Her brain was asking why there was no real road yet. The other hotels she had passed mostly had concrete driveways, with beautiful flower-borders. Oh well, she told herself, the hotel was only just finished. Maybe the roads were made last? But then, her mind reasoned, how had they got all the plant out here to do the actual construction work?
‘Be careful of the monkeys, Madam. They bite and can carry the rabies.’
Raj’s words brought Donna back to reality.
He carried on a slow descent of the dirt road, finally pulling up about fifty yards from a dilapidated building.
‘This is the Bay View, Madam.’
Donna stared at the place, stunned. ‘No, Raj, it can’t be!’ She looked at the photograph before her of the palatial hotel complex.
‘This is it, Madam - look at the sign.’
Donna saw a sign above the entrance. It did indeed say Bay View Hotel in faded black lettering.
The building itself was wide, built from breeze blocks that were obviously supposed to have been rendered at some time. The windows were devoid of glass, having only mosquito nets covering them.
What really caught her eye was the verandah that surrounded the building. Here white men were sitting, some on rattan chairs and others on the wooden steps, and beside them were children, little girls.
Some looked to be as young as only eight or nine.
The music was getting louder, as if the coming of night had turned up the volume. A foul smell was rife - cooking fat and heavy male sweat vying with each other for supremacy.
As Donna sat in the dusky night, the sound of insects loud in her ears, harsh music and laughter taunting her, she saw a man come out of the big double doors carrying a young boy on his shoulders.
The man was big, heavyset, with a swaggering beer belly and heavy jowls. He was calling something out in German and all the men were laughing at him. But the little boy was neither laughing nor crying. In the lights from the house Donna saw that his small face was set in resignation.
It was this sight that hit her harder than the others. In those few seconds she saw everything with a stunning clarity.
There was no big fancy hotel here, there never had been.
This was a building that had been knocked up to serve a purpose, bringing male tourists together with the children who abounded here.
Raj watched her shocked countenance and felt sorry for her. ‘We should go maybe, eh?’
In her state of shock, Donna only half-heard him.
But she acknowledged that he was right.
There was nothing she could do now. Not while it was dark, while the Bay View was open for business. She had to come here armed with knowledge and also armed with daylight.
‘Take me away from here, Raj. Now.’
He drove off quickly. No one seemed to have noticed them.
‘I told you, Madam, you would not like to stay there. It is very bad place for ladies.’
Donna leant forward in her seat and tapped him on his shoulder. ‘What did the woman say earlier, Raj? What were her exact words?’
He looked at Donna in the mirror.
‘She said it was a brothel, Madam. A brothel for the children.’ He saw Donna’s stunned look. ‘Madam, you are in Hikkadoa. This is what is here. It is not the only one, you know. Sri Lankans come from all over to sell their children. It is a
good way of making the money and the people who come here know this.
‘During the day Hikkadoa is a good place, the beaches are nice and clean, the turtles have laid their eggs, and everyone is happy. But in the night, the work begins for the children.’
‘That is disgusting.’ All Donna’s feelings were in those few low words and Raj grinned sadly.
‘Madam, this is Sri Lanka. I have cousins in England, nurses, they have a very good life there. Here you have nothing, and no one gives you anything. To some people the only thing they have of value is their children. They may have many of those. The men come here to buy them, it is very simple. Some of them come here with their wives, and in the evening they go out for a little walk, maybe after their dinner. On the outskirts of Hikkadoa these kind of places are becoming very popular. Some Sri Lankans work from their own homes. Women walk the beaches in the evening with their children, offering them to anyone who comes along. I hear it is the same now in Goa.
‘Don’t judge them too harshly. However much it sickens you, as it sickens me, you must remember that poverty is the driving force. One child’s work can feed the rest of the family. It is a great sadness to do that, I know, but it is maybe necessary, eh? I know many English people have never experienced real poverty or hunger. Here they are everyday occurrences for a big part of the population.’
Donna acknowledged the truth of what Raj said, but she could not in any way allow herself to accept it as a justification for child abuse. The beauty of the island was gone for her now, her few hours of forgetting her troubles in the face of its natural attractions vanished. The momentary joy of watching the toddy tappers was a forgotten pleasure. All that remained were bitter-sweet memories of a land full of beautiful women, smiling men, and tiny children sold into a life most people could only guess at, let alone comprehend. Having yearned for a child for so many years, so many lonely years, Donna found it harder than ever to understand the mentality of a woman who could sell off a childhood, a child’s life and body, for a few pennies.
‘Just get me to a proper hotel, Raj. One away from here, please.’
He smiled comfortingly. ‘I will take you to the big new one in Ambalamgoda. It is only one half hour away and I will escort you inside personally; they know me there. Raj is known everywhere in Sri Lanka for his goodness, and tomorrow, if you want, I shall take you to the elephant sanctuary.’
Donna gave him a smile she didn’t think she had inside herself. ‘No elephant sanctuary, Raj, I have work to do tomorrow.’
He shrugged good-naturedly. ‘Put the Bay View out of your head, Madam. Hikkadoa is not for a lovely lady like yourself. You must see the real Sri Lanka: the turtles on the beaches, the magnificent countryside and our Buddhist temples. Now they are a thing to see! Kandy is a wonderful city, and you know, they say the most beautiful women come from there. And Sigiriya, the rock temple is astounding, you would enjoy that very much . . .’
Donna let the man talk, strangely warmed by his voice and the singsong inflections in it. She felt a need to listen to him talk of beauty and gentleness, the side of the country she had enjoyed before coming to Hikkadoa.
Yet in a small part of her brain, Donna acknowledged that she had already suspected what she was going to find. She just hadn’t prepared herself for the full horror of it.
Where Stephen was, filth reigned supreme. She had known that all along, too. The only thing she had to find out now was whether Georgio was involved, and if so how deeply.
Because her name was on so many documents already, she had a sinking feeling in her guts that along with the house, the building businesses, the car lot, the peep shows and other interests, she was about to find herself the part-owner of a brothel. Not any old brothel either, but one that dealt in children.
Closing her eyes tightly to stem the tears of frustration and heartbreak, she prayed.
She prayed harder than she had when she had lost the boy. Because now she was praying not only for herself and her dead son, but for nameless children and their brothers and sisters after them.
Donald Lewis grinned at Georgio as they played chess.
‘You’re very good at this, Georgio. But then you would be, wouldn’t you? You are far more intelligent than you make out. It’s a good scam but one I saw through from day one.’
Lewis moved his bishop and sat back happily knowing he had Georgio in the next two moves. He had not, however, taken proper account of Georgio’s rook, and as his bishop disappeared off the table Lewis’s face set accordingly. Most people who played with him blatantly allowed him to win, with a great deal of old flannel about how clever he was. His eyes hardened to pieces of grey flint and Georgio smirked.
‘Get out of that one without moving then!’
Lewis picked up his king and threw it on to the board.
Like a child, Lewis found it difficult to lose at anything. He was a man with a competitive nature that made him want to win, either by superiority or by cheating.
‘Fuck you, Brunos, you Greek ponce.’
Georgio sniggered. ‘You just can’t lose, can you, Donald? ’ This was said seriously.
He stared at Georgio with a hard expression in his eyes. ‘No, I can’t. I hate losers, Georgio.’
‘Then you should love me, Donald, old chap, because I just won, and I didn’t cheat either. Want a cup of Rosie Lee?’
Lewis nodded slowly.
As Georgio walked away to get the teas Lewis watched him through half-closed eyes.
Georgio Brunos was getting too big for his boots. There was something about the way he was acting, like a kid with a big secret. It was almost as if Georgio knew Lewis was on his way out. Knew that he was going to be usurped in some way. And the only way he would know that, was if he was to be the usurper. He seemed to spend a lot of time with big Ricky and Chopper just lately. Donald Lewis smiled to himself.
He would keep his eyes and ears open and at the first hint of a mutiny, the three of them would be wiped off the face of the earth. His money was important to him, but not as important as his reputation. That was of the utmost importance to him.
It was what kept him alive.
He decided to arm himself and his henchmen well. Insurance was always worth taking out, especially in these troubled times.
Little Dicky sat with his usual white rum and sipped it slowly before answering Nick’s questions.
‘Come on, Dicky, spit it out. I ain’t paying you for fuck all.’
‘The word on the street down south is that an Irishman called Paddy is asking around about the jump you’re organising. It seems he has a personal interest in it. He also asks a lot about Alan Cox and his association with a certain Donna Brunos. I get the impression he thinks Cox is knocking around with her. I know he isn’t. She is being used as a go-between, I sussed that one from the off.
‘I also hear that Donald Lewis is making waves about Georgio Brunos, saying he’s a beast. He’s making sure this gets out to all quarters. It has a grain of truth in it, but not anything I can give specifically. I know his brother is a whoremaster, but that’s beasting on a respectable level as you know yourself. The said Donna Brunos has disappeared, and I now find out that this Paddy is hunting high and low for her. The word is she is on holiday somewhere. Now it doesn’t take me long to get to the bottom of all this. Can I speak frankly to you, Nick?’
He nodded, respect and admiration for the old man welling inside him.
‘Of course you can. I own you, so to speak; you can say what you want, Dicky.’
Dicky swallowed down his white rum nervously and poured himself another before resuming his talk.
‘You’re organising the jump of Georgio Brunos, Georgio owes a lot of money to Lewis, and Lewis is putting out the word that Brunos is beasting.
‘Think about it, Nick. If you want a man’s life fucked in the criminal fraternity, what’s the best way? Lay a nonsense claim on him. No one likes a nonce. It’s the unwritten law, right? So, as to what you wanted to know, for s
ome reason best known to Paddy, he wants to find out what his boss is planning. Why Brunos doesn’t want him involved I can’t find out. It’s maybe a case of the fewer people in the know the better. That is sound business sense for a jump.
‘As for the beasting claim, I think Lewis is accusing Georgio of that to put pressure on him to pay the money over for the blag he’s doing the eighteen for. Got that so far? Once Georgio jumps it’s his business whether or not he pays over the money, not ours, so all in all I think you have nothing to worry about either way.
‘As for Jonnie H., he has recruited the McAnultys, but they’re as tight-arsed as a duck in water. No one knows the score there. No one seems to want to know anyway. Alan Cox is dealing with Eric the Lunatic, the mad mercenary. I assume that’s for the jump. I found this out by deduction and by greasing a few strategically placed palms. Don’t worry about your security, OK? It’s tight, man. Real tight.
‘So, as I said before, everything this end is hunky-dory. Jack Coyne and JoJo O’Neil are keeping their heads down and their traps shut. No one else is interested and that’s my job finished.’
‘What about Paddy. Do you think he’ll be trouble?’
Dicky shook his head. ‘Nah, man. He’s on Georgio’s side anyway, on his payroll. Once Georgio’s out he’ll be brought back into the fold, is my guess. It’s just a pain in the arse to have him sniffing about as well as me. He has muscle but no real contacts, except one of Georgio’s business partners, Davey Jackson. This Jackson is either without any knowledge or he’s keeping the big man at arm’s length. That’s the strength of it all.’
Nick smiled. ‘Thanks, Dicky. You’ve put me mind at rest. You know how I feel about nonces. But for all you’ve said, there’s still something bothering me about Brunos. I just can’t put my finger on it . . .’
