For Your Own Protection(67)
‘But they haven’t done that yet?’
‘They were close to doing so, about three or four months ago. He had a pretty massive win, even by his standards. I’m talking thirty thousand pounds. That really disturbed Samson, from what I hear. But all of a sudden, he stopped coming. I haven’t seen him now in a couple of months. I did wonder if Samson had brought in the ban without an announcement, but that doesn’t really happen, as the staff need to know in case the client tries to get back in. Then I wondered whether he’d just gone on an extended holiday with all his winnings. He could travel around the world several times with what he’s taken out of the club. I would have asked one of his colleagues, but they’ve stopped coming too.’
‘All the UGT employees, they’ve stopped coming to the club?’
‘Yes.’
‘That seems strange.’
‘Yes, it is. The club has had a very close relationship with UGT for the past few years. Samson has cultivated it. He’s provided private gaming rooms for UGT, with VIP service. Free drinks, food, service, you know. It’s like a club within a club. Financially, it’s well worth his while because of the money UGT staff spend. I don’t really get to work in there very much, but because of my union role, I’ve been inside a number of times, checking the staff are okay.’
‘But now all the UGT staff have suddenly stopped coming.’
‘I wondered whether another club had poached them. It can happen. There’s that new club in Mayfair, owned by the Arab prince. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve targeted the City workers to get them through the doors.’
‘You’re not convinced?’
Tony shrugged. ‘Who knows what goes on in the casino industry. I’ve been in the game a long time, and I still get surprised by the things that happen.’
‘It’s all still a mystery then.’
‘Have you asked James outright?’
Matt still felt a slight hesitation in telling this guy everything. But he decided he’d reveal a little more. ‘He’s disappeared. This morning.’
‘You think he’s running from something?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you say your son might be at risk because of it?’
‘I do, yes.’
‘I can see why you did what you did tonight. Where is your son now, if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘With his mother, my ex-partner, staying with a relative.’ Immediately he regretted giving an answer so readily.
What if this guy really was working for Nick Samson – as more than just a croupier – and Matt had now provided him with information that could be used against him and Charlie?
‘So you’ve told her about your fears?’
‘Yes. Although I’m not sure she really believes me.’
‘She obviously believes you enough to not stay at home this evening.’ Tony rubbed at his face. ‘I wish I could help you more. But I’ve told you all I know.’
‘I appreciate it.’
Tony checked the time. ‘I’d better be going.’
Matt gazed down into his tea, thinking about Charlie and Beth staying the night at Sean’s apartment. Charlie would be excited at the change of scenery. His innocence would ensure that for him this was all a bit of an adventure.
He snapped out of his thoughts and looked at Tony, who was zipping up his jacket. ‘You’ve been really helpful. Thank you.’ Matt handed him an old business card from his wallet. ‘If there’s anything else you think might be helpful, anything at all, then do get in touch. My work details aren’t current anymore – I’ve left UGT – but my mobile number is still correct.’
Tony nodded, flipping the card between his fingers as if he was dealing on the blackjack table. ‘Of course. Anything I can do.’
He went to walk away, then stopped.
‘Look, I know this is probably stepping over the line, and feel free to tell me it’s none of my business . . .’ He hesitated.
‘It’s okay. What is it?’ Matt said.
‘It’s just that, if I was in your position, and knowing what I know about Nick Samson, I wouldn’t let my kid out of my sight for a second.’
Matt imagined Charlie sleeping peacefully in his bed, arm wrapped around his favourite Funky Monkey stuffed toy, as Samson’s men closed in. Matt grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. In his panic, he forgot to even say goodbye to Tony as he headed back to Sean’s apartment.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Sean Carey lay back on the sofa, waiting for the doorbell. The pizza delivery would be here any minute.
And there it was.
He pushed himself up and jogged over to the door. The stress had made him ravenous.
‘Thank goodness you’re—’
Sean doubled over from the thunderous punch to his solar plexus, staggering backwards into the apartment. ‘Please,’ he pleaded, gasping for breath. ‘Please don’t kill me.’
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Matt raced across London to Sean’s place. He’d phoned Beth, then Sean, with both calls ringing through to their voicemail, which had really set him on edge.
He tried the door, before remembering what Sean had told him – the security on the reception desk left at ten thirty, and it was now half past twelve. On the left of the door was the digital buzzer system that Sean had instructed him to use. He typed in the apartment number, but there was no answer.