Ethan Justice: Origins (Ethan Justice #1) (8 page)

“Well I’m no child so I’ll be fine,” she whispered, squeezing his shoulder. John looked unconvinced.

“Sav?” Tibbett said.

Savannah could sense the agitation in Tibbett’s tone. This transaction was turning sour, and she couldn’t let that happen. “Sure, I’m coming,” she said. “John, I’m going in the back to talk with George. Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” he replied. “Just be quick will you please? I doubt there’s much in here that hasn’t been stolen, and I don’t want to be here when he gets raided.”

Savannah wasn’t sure if John was just messing or if he was stressing for real. She couldn’t let him continue to wind up Tibbett and she couldn’t risk him melting down. He just had to hang in there for a few more minutes.

“Just stay here, and don’t touch anything. I’ll only be five minutes max. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

John looked at her like she was the mad one - the nerve of crazy people.

“Yes, go and be quick,” he said.

Savannah followed Tibbett to the cage door where he took down a large bunch of keys from a hook. It took him two minutes and five keys to unlock the gate and another two minutes to lock it back up, his attention constantly switching between the locks and John.

Savannah willed the old man to speed up the proceedings. Finally, she followed him into an empty box room barely six feet square. Tibbett pulled on a hanging light cord and an old-fashioned fluorescent tube, the width of the ceiling, flickered into life. He closed the door behind them.

“Jesus, you need sunglasses in here,” she said, protecting her eyes with one raised hand.

“You get used to it my dear,” Tibbett said, stroking Savannah’s hair. “I’d forgotten how beautiful you were.”

Savannah drew back. He’d been creepy before but had never laid a hand on her. “Get off me, George. I need the money for the watch. What’s with you today? I thought we were friends?”

He reached out once more forcing Savannah to step back to avoid his touch. “We are friends, my dear. But Christos has plans for you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He says no one is to help you - or else. Seems he has some foreigners interested in you. They’ll pay big money for prime stock like you.”

Savannah went rigid and whiter than the brilliant light that forced her to squint. So Christos
was
planning to sell her. Her mind travelled back to the elaborate photo shoot at a respected studio in Hampton Hill. He had explained the occasion away as a promotional exercise for the internet, promising her that her face would be pixelated to protect her identity.

The experience had been fun, no nudity and at no point sordid in any way. The penny dropped - stupid girl, Savannah. Her face became clammy, and she gasped for air. That bastard had never wanted her to repay the money. He had expected her to fail. The photographs had been for marketing her sale. Her only chance was to get the cash and prove the sleazebag wrong.

“I won’t tell him, George. Just give us a grand, and he’ll never know.”

Tibbett looked at the watch dismissively and put it into the breast pocket of his jacket. “Like I said, I can only give you seven fifty.” A sickly smile formed on his lips, his green eyes wide and leering as he studied her. Out of nowhere, his hand shot out and grabbed the zipper of her jacket, tugging it down before she could react, revealing the black mini dress beneath. If real people’s eyes came out on their stalks, then Tibbett’s would have jumped out of their sockets.

“Oh yes,” he said, his breathing rapid and warm on her face. “Now that you’re in the business, let’s do some business.” He reached for her breasts with trembling hands. “Two fifty for your mouth and seven fifty for the Rolex. We all go home happy.”

Savannah backed away, but soon her back was tight against the wall, and she was limited to sideways movement only. Tibbett followed her step for step until she reached the corner. Planting his hands on her breasts, he gripped the flimsy material and pulled it down, snapping the two slight shoulder straps and exposing Savannah’s breasts. His hands shook uncontrollably, and his mouth was open wide. The look in his eyes wasn’t human, but that of an animal taking what was his, savagely. She screamed and clawed at his face.

“Savannah?” John called out. “Are you okay?”

Savannah brought up her knee but missed her attacker’s testicles by an inch, instead catching his inner thigh. The hard strike bought her a second or two, allowing her to shove him hard in the chest, but he was still between her and the door, and she was still cornered. Tibbett quickly regrouped and lips parted in a snarl, eyes locked on her brightly lit flesh above the torn, dangling dress, he closed the gap between them. Savannah saw the madness return to his eyes.

“I’m calling the police!” shouted John, rattling the cage.

“You’ve got no phone,” said Tibbett, panting, a look of extreme annoyance replacing the one of madness. Without zipping it up, Savannah closed the Barbour jacket to cover her exposed skin and folded her arms tightly to keep it from flapping open. “I have a detector in the shop which tells me if a mobile phone enters the shop, so don’t try to bullshit me. Just wait there like a good boy, and you and Savannah will leave with a grand when I’m done.”

“It wasn’t on when I came in, would that make a difference?”

Tibbett grabbed Savannah by her narrow neck and shook her with a force that belied his frame and age. “Does he have a phone?” he demanded.

“Hello? Police please,” John said. Savannah had no idea what he was up to, but Tibbett’s eagerness to attain sexual gratification was clearly wilting. Had John brought a phone with him? She hadn’t seen one. She tilted her head and shrugged, hoping it looked convincing.

The bony fingers around Savannah’s neck tightened. “I said does he have a phone?”

“I don’t know. He could have.”

“Put the phone down kid, or I’ll break her neck.”

“I don’t think Christos will be too happy if you do that,” John said.

Savannah felt the circulation return to her brain as Tibbett’s grip relaxed. She threaded her hands upwards between his arms, forcing his hands to leave her neck.
Bloody hell.
John had been listening all the time. Mad as a hatter and as smart as a button. She could have kissed him right there and then. Tibbett pulled out a thick bundle of fifty pound notes from his inside pocket. There had to be at least five thousand in his hand.

“Yes, I’d like to report an attack at a shop in Shepherd’s Bush.”

“I’m not touching her, kid. You can hang up. I’m handing Savannah the cash now. Tell him, Savannah.”

Savannah zipped up the Barbour jacket and held out her hand as Tibbett counted out twenty, fifty pound notes. It was his turn to feel fear. “Tell the kid to hang up, Sav,” he begged. “I’m sorry. I need help. Please tell him.”

A stiff kick in the balls was the least he deserved but she was baking under the thick coat and her need to get outside into fresh air was greater than her need for payback. “It’s okay, John. He’s handing over the money.”

“Tell him to make it two thousand and to stop calling me kid. I’m thirty-two for God’s sakes.”

“Thirty-two!” exclaimed Savannah. “I thought you were about twenty-four.” She looked at Tibbett and nodded, her confidence flooding back like a wild, untamed river. “You heard the man. Keep counting.” Fresh air could wait a few extra seconds.

“Put the phone down first, kid ... sorry, I mean, Mister, and I’ll pay two.”

“I would hurry. I think they’re a bit agitated. It wouldn’t surprise me if they weren’t trying to triangulate this call already. I’ll just tell them where we are, shall I?”

“No! I’m counting. Just don’t say another word.” Tibbett peeled off a bunch of fifty pound notes from the stack and slapped them into Savannah’s outstretched hand. “There, there’s more like two and a half there. Tell him to hang up the call.”

“Not until you open the gate, let out Savannah and lock yourself back in,” John called out. “That gives us a head start.”

Tibbett stuffed the remainder of the cash pile back into his pocket. He tapped his bottom lip with his forefinger.

“You think I’m fucking stupid, kid?”

“Messing with Christos sounds pretty fucking stupid to me.” A pause filled the air before John’s voice returned. “Sorry about that,” he said. “The attacker was threatening me but I’ve shut myself in a cupboard now. I think he may have killed someone. We’re in Shepherd’s Bush, I’m not sure of the exact address but I can give you directions.”

The vicious animal that had terrorised Savannah was beaten and sulked like a reprimanded puppy. “Okay. I’m doing it, Mister. Savannah and I are coming out. Just please don’t say any more.”

“Speed it up then, Georgie boy. I can’t hold this call up much longer.”

Savannah tucked the bundle of notes into one of the big outside pockets of the jacket. She walked out of the back room and went to the gate, closely followed by Tibbett. John was not at the gate and the light was out. Tibbett flicked a switch but the darkness remained.

“John?” she called, straining her eyes to see.

“I’m in the corner. I removed the bulb. I don’t want this bastard getting a good look at me and sending somebody after me later.”

In the left corner of the shop, aided by the light escaping from the back office, Savannah could make out John’s back. His head was bowed and he was leaning into the corner as though he was about to urinate. Son of a bitch. He was heading into another pretend world. She prayed that he wouldn’t break down. Not now when they were so close to getting out, not when she was a hair’s breadth away from getting Christos off her back forever.

“Look, Mister. I don’t want any more bother.” Tibbett began unlocking the gate. “I just want you two out of here. If Christos finds out about this, I’ll be as dead as you’re gonna be.”

“I’ll pay him his money,” Savannah said, walking through the open gate and into the front of the shop where John remained stooped in the corner. “A deal’s a deal.”

Tibbett entered a key into the top of the door’s locks. “You’re his ticket to the big time. He won’t give that up easy. You should run for it. Get as far away as possible.” The bottom and last lock snapped shut. “There, I’m locked in. Now hang up the phone and get the fuck out of my shop.”

John turned around with his hands held out. With her eyes now accustomed to the darkness, Savannah could make out that both were empty. “You want to revisit the discussion about your stupidity?” John said.

Tibbett fumbled through the massive set of keys. “You bastard!” he screamed, forcing a key into the top lock.

“Come on, Savannah. Let’s go,” John said, taking her by the hand.

John hadn’t been acting strangely at all. He’d been hiding in the dark so that it looked like he could be on the phone. She pulled him to her and kissed him full on the lips. “For a loony, you’re bloody brilliant.”

“What?”

“Forget it. Let’s get out of here before the sick old pervert gets free.”

8: Saturday 24th September, 16:45

Fifteen minutes later John and Savannah were standing in Savannah’s East Acton, first-floor bedsit. John couldn’t believe that anyone lived like this. It was damp, cramped and in need of complete refurbishment.

While Savannah changed, he used the communal toilet in the hall. Abundant mould grew around the window frame and ceiling and the air was thick with the smell of stale urine. Evidence of the residents’ eating habits was ingrained on the sides of the toilet bowl. With a concerted effort, and breathing only through his mouth, John forced his aching bladder to empty. The soggy, stained towel, which hung beneath the cracked washbasin, had more dirt and germs on it than his hands had ever experienced. He rushed out without washing his hands.

“That toilet is disgusting,” he said, re-entering Savannah’s shoebox of a room. She wore tight blue jeans, scuffed white trainers and a thick red Adidas hoodie. She had tied her hair behind her head revealing her small ears. If you stuck a point on them, she’d look just like a sexy pixie.

There was a small, rickety wooden bed with a four-inch mattress in one corner, a small two-ringed stove next to a sink in the other and a wardrobe against the opposite wall which took up a quarter of the floor space. A two feet square window was covered by a single green curtain hung via a threaded steel wire. John noticed a clean-looking towel next to the sink and took the opportunity to wash his hands.

“I don’t use the toilet here,” she said. “I use the cafe toilet fifty yards down the road. They don’t seem to mind.”

John was glad to hear it. The thought of Savannah using the toilet made him uncomfortable. Even after washing his hands he still longed for his wet-room back at home. It would take a good ten minutes of steaming hot jets to make him feel clean again. It was a shame it wasn’t safe to return there.

“Grab a few clothes and put them in a suitcase,” he said, looking above him at the bare forty watt bulb that hung from a worn white cable. He couldn’t wait to get out of there.

“It’s all I could afford,” Savannah said, giving him the piercing eyes, hands on the hips treatment which was becoming her trade mark. John didn’t want to be judgemental, but surely if you lived like this then you did something about it. He’d hardly set the world alight with his achievements, but then he didn’t need to because he didn’t live in squalor. If he’d been put in a place like this one, he’d have soon pulled his finger out. He must remember not to have that conversation with his parents.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, unable to take the scowl of disgust from his face.

“Screw you,” she grumped. “I can’t find my passport. I think Christos must have had someone swipe it.”

“Well let’s get busy.” John grabbed her by the arm and looked her in the eyes. “If Christos is going to renege on his word, then we’d better not hang around somewhere he knows you might be.”

She pulled her arm away from his grip. “Not until I speak to Amy.”

“Who’s Amy?”

“Follow me.”

John followed Savannah up the stairs to the top floor of the converted building. He caught himself admiring the lines of her bottom and legs and felt sort of pervy for a while, especially after the Tibbett incident, but he was only human and she was wearing figure-hugging jeans. Besides, she would never know. It had been a hell of a day and perks had been sadly lacking.