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“Tony stayed at the hospital, I gather.”
He nods. “Should be back here tomorrow, though. Megan says Jenna’s out of danger but needs bed rest and pampering.:
I chuckle. “Difficult to imagine Tony as a nursemaid.”
“Boss, you should have seen him. That’s a man in love if ever I saw one.”
Tell me about it.
“Do we have any idea what it was about? Who did it?”
“We found her belongings in a bag of rubbish linked to some loan shark by the looks of it. Felix Fuller.”
I frown. I know that name. “Weaselly little scrote. Has an office out towards Dumbarton as I recall.”
Rome’s head swivels towards me. “You know him?”
“I knowofhim. Not a man we’d do business with. He’s a small-time operator but nasty with it. As well as fleecing poor sods out of their cash he runs a couple of dozen girls. Street workers, mostly. Takes what they earn in exchange for a few grams of product just to keep them interested and dependent, and lets them grab a bit of floorspace in one of his doss-houses when they’re not out working or scoring.”
“He wasn’t at his office,” Rome tells me. “That’s where we found Jenna.”
I search my brain for what I know of Felix Fuller. He’s greedy and ruthless, brutal if he feels like it. “He has a flat in Scotstoun, one of those high-rise places.“ I check my watch. “But at this time he’ll most likely be at Top Pocket.”
“The snooker club?”
“The same. I think he owns a share of it, does a lot of his business there.”
“Right. I need to go and pick him up. Tony wants a word.”
“I bet he does.” I put my beer down. “Come on, then.”
He grins at me. “Let’s go and have ourselves a little rumble.”
This expedition is just what I need to help clear my head and release the tension that’s been brewing all day. I need to break something. Felix Fuller will do.
On the way out, we pass the door to the drawing room. I pop my head round to find about a dozen of our soldiers watching American football on the television.
“With me,” I command.
No one wants to turn down a bit of action. They all get to their feet and follow Rome and me to the front door. Rome briefs them on the way, and I follow up by filling in a few details about the man we’re after.
“Fuller’s a skinny little piece of shit. I know a strong wind would blow Jenna Delaney over, but even so, the amount of violence, and damage, suggests he wasn’t on his own. That’s not his style anyway. Fuller doesn’t do his own dirty work. Last I heard, he had a wingman. Charlie Carlyle, also known as Bulldozer. Thick as two short planks with fists to match. My guess is that he was involved and was probably the muscle here.”
Rome mutters something obscene, then, “What did they have against Jenna? To lay into her like that?”
“I guess we’ll have to ask her that, unless we can get it out of Fuller or Carlyle before they depart this life.” I hop in the driver’s side of one of the black four-by-fours lined up in front of the stables, now converted to garages.
Rome jumps in on the passenger side. The rest leap into the other vehicles. Four dark SUVs file in convoy, down the drive and into the night.
“We found her phone,” Rome tells me once we are on our way. “Tony asked me to check it out, see if there was anything on there to say who she fell foul of.”
“I see. And?”
“Nothing, boss. I checked her calls and texts, socials and suchlike. Couldn’t find anything that seemed to be relevant to this.”
“Okay.” There’s a ‘but’. I wait for it.
“I did come across this, though.”
