Dead Of Winter (Willis/Carter #1)(68)







Chapter 43


Carmichael sat in the darkness of the Velvet Lagoon looking at the spot of light on the dance floor. He dropped another corner from his ham sandwich for the rats.

He phoned Micky.

Micky picked up straight away. ‘You okay?’

‘What did you find out about Bloodrunners?’

Micky paused: ‘You sure you want to hear it?’ Carmichael didn’t answer so Mickey continued. ‘Okay. If I wanted to buy a heart and lungs in this country and pay for an operation it would set me back a hundred and twenty thousand pounds. In China or India I’d pay a tenth of that but it would be more dangerous and difficult to find a good match. Poland would be your best bet. A good match and cheap. Kidney, eight thousand. Three thousand gets me a cornea. The liver, that’s a quarter section, is three thousand or a whole one for ten thousand. Foetal stem cells will set you back a thousand per twenty mil. A new pancreas is fifteen hundred. Bone marrow two thousand, heart seventy-five thousand and lungs fifty thousand.’

‘You missed out the brain.’

‘Used for research . . . a thousand. The total value of a human being is between three hundred and fifty and four hundred thousand pounds. That’s in Europe and the USA. It would be a tenth of that in China, India.’

Carmichael put the phone down to Micky and called Digger.

Digger was sitting in the kitchens at Cain’s.

‘Is it my imagination, Digger, or are you attracting a lot of police attention at the moment? How are you managing to make any money with them breathing down your neck?’

Digger sighed irritably. He glanced across at Ray. The barman was sweating now, breathing in small gasps. Digger’s face was red with anger but his voice stayed creepily calm.

‘It is a nuisance but nothing I can’t handle. Seems like your appearance has coincided with a spell of bad luck for me, Mr Hart. And not just me. Sonny was a friend of mine. Tyrone tells me that you proclaim to be his successor. You are ambitious, to say the least. Sonny built up his reputation over years. You have been here a few days and you step into Sonny’s very wet shoes. You must be either extremely clever or very stupid.’

Carmichael smiled. ‘Anyone could have killed Sonny; could have been an accident even; he was off his face when I saw him.’

‘Yes. Perhaps. Tyrone is finding it difficult to answer me in full. He does say you have the wherewithal to do the job. He says you have girls arriving soon.’

‘Yes, but I’m not happy to hand them over to you if they’re going to end up on the M25 motorway. Tyrone told me you sold her on to a specific client. That person messed up. He has to pay.’ Carmichael threw a crumb across to the rats. ‘Seems like everyone’s getting sloppy. Sonny wasn’t the only one to make mistakes.’ There were a few seconds of silence as Digger’s face flushed with anger before he took a breath and calmed himself. He didn’t enjoy being made to feel incompetent. ‘I merely passed her on to someone; I had no choice: she was already bought. Hands were tied . . . you understand.’ Digger looked across at Ray, who had both of his hands nailed to the table sitting in pools of blood. He was shaking violently, his face twitching in agony. ‘Don’t worry, people are being punished. Things are getting rather tricky here. The police are persistent. They are ruining my business and, ultimately, all of our businesses.’ Digger listened hard; he heard nothing. He leant across and banged his fist on the top of the nail. Ray screamed. ‘I don’t like things to get out of hand. I will be happier when everything calms down. I don’t need the aggravation. I am handing that side of the business over to you. You want Sonny’s job, you got it. Sonny wasn’t ambitious. He never wanted more than being a supplier. I sense that you would like a bigger stake so I am passing over part of mine to you. You bring the girls in and you manage them. I will introduce you to the other men in the chain and you can deal directly with them. You just keep supplying me and I’ll be happy.’

‘Okay . . . I think we can do a lot of business in the future. I look forward to meeting the club owners.’

Digger got off the phone and made another call and then he waited impatiently as he tapped his fingers on the table and watched Ray sweat. A small whimpering sound trickled continuously from Ray’s mouth as he tried to control the pain.

‘Here you are at long fucking last,’ Digger said to the man entering the kitchens. Digger banged his hand on the table. ‘Thank God for that.’

‘Sorry, boss. I was on a job.’ Deano stood six foot seven. He was in proportion except for his head, which was much too small for his body. One of his own hands could completely engulf it.

Deano looked at Ray as Digger talked. Since the man known on the street as DD, short for Deano the Death, had come to stand by him Ray had started crying openly. He knew there was a worse fate than having your hands nailed to a table.

‘This man.’ Digger showed Deano a photo of Carmichael. ‘Hart. Follow him and be ready to move on him if I say.’ Deano took his time studying the photo and then he nodded. He went to leave. Digger called him back and pointed at Ray. ‘And take out the trash on your way.’





Chapter 44


Sandford was making a brief appearance at Fletcher House to chase up some results; he had washed down the shelves of the spice cupboard at Blackdown Barn, collected the liquid and sent it away to be analysed. Now he had to find someone who liked cooking to tell him what it meant. His back was aching from unscrewing the entire kitchen. Halfway through standing up he had felt his back seize. He leant one hand on the top of a desk as he answered his phone.

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