Red Light (46 page)

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Authors: Graham Masterton

BOOK: Red Light
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‘You’ll forget about the
drugs
? Is that all?’

‘Garda Kelly, I have to bring charges of corruption against you. It wouldn’t make any sense for me to charge Michael Gerrety with bribing you, would it, if I didn’t also charge you with accepting those bribes?’

‘Well, thanks for nothing at all,’ said Ronan Kelly. ‘Just don’t expect me to give you any other evidence.’

‘I won’t bring any charges of reckless endangerment,’ Katie told him.


What
? How could we be guilty of reckless endangerment?’

‘You were aware that girls under the age of sixteen were being trafficked for sex. You did nothing to stop that trafficking. In fact, you facilitated it, even though you were police officers. I’d call that reckless endangerment, wouldn’t you? And the penalty for reckless endangerment is ten years inside.’

Ronan Kelly said, ‘I’m not saying another word. I withdraw everything that I’ve said to you and I won’t give another interview without it being recorded and a lawyer present to represent me.’

‘I don’t honestly care,’ said Katie. ‘You’re a pair of worthless dirtbags and you’re going to be punished for killing a wonderful woman who didn’t deserve to die. You’ve given me everything I need and if I never see you or hear from you again, either of you, that will suit me very well indeed.’

‘Do you know what you are?’ said Ronan Kelly. ‘You’re a fecking witch, that’s what you are. We shouldn’t have tried to make you crash your car. We should have burned you at the stake.’

Forty-two

Branna pressed the doorbell outside Michael Gerrety’s apartment and it played ‘If I Were a Rich Man’. She stood there, wondering if she was making a terrible mistake, and if she ought to run back to the lifts and escape from The Elysian Tower as quickly as she could. It had seemed like such a brilliant idea when she had first thought of it, getting the inside story on Michael Gerrety’s vice empire by pretending that she wanted to be a sex worker, but she was beginning to lose her nerve.

She was wearing a pink mini-dress that she had taken up two inches to make it even shorter, and the same wedge sandals as when she had first approached Michael Gerrety at Amber’s. She had back-combed her hair in a Miley Cyrus style and stuck on false eyelashes, although they made her blink as if she were facing a barrage of flash photographers.

Michael Gerrety opened the door himself. ‘Ah, there you are,’ he said. ‘Why don’t you come along in? Brenda, isn’t it?’

‘Branna,’ she said, stepping inside. The sun was going down and the apartment was filled with orange light.

‘Branna, my mistake,’ said Michael Gerrety. ‘Would you care for a drink, Branna?’

‘Just a lemonade, if you have some.’

‘Oh come on, how about a splash of vodka in it? It’ll relax you.’

‘What? All right then, but only a splash.’

Branna looked around. She could see Carole Gerrety sitting outside on the balcony with a tall glass of Pimm’s, talking on her iPhone.

‘This is pure amazing, this flat,’ she commented. ‘And the view you have!’

Michael Gerrety came out of the kitchen with her drink. It was in a frosted glass, with lots of ice and a slice of lemon. ‘I have to pay for it, though, the view,’ he told her. ‘Nothing comes for nothing in this world. I’d say without a doubt that I’m probably the hardest-working man in Cork. If not the country.’

He sat down on one of the tan leather couches and beckoned for her to sit down next to him. ‘Now I’ve got the chance to see you close up, you’re a very pretty young lady,’ he told her. ‘You should do very well for yourself, depending on what you’re prepared to offer.’

‘Like I told you, Mr Gerrety, I’m not an innocent. I’ve had three boyfriends and I’ve done it with all of them.’

‘All right,’ said Michael Gerrety. ‘Supposing I said, I’ll give you a hundred euros if you give me oral sex, right now. I’ll take it out and you get down on your hands and knees and gobble it for me, and then I’ll spray it all over your face.’

Branna felt as if her stomach were going down in the lift and leaving her behind. There was Michael Gerrety, lolling back on the couch in his green and white striped silk shirt and his chinos, smiling at her. Supposing he actually took out his penis and expected her to suck it? But then she thought, his wife’s out there, sitting on the balcony. He can’t expect me to do it if there’s a chance that she’s going to turn around and see us.

‘Without a condom, a hundred and twenty,’ she said, although her throat was so tight that she could hardly speak.

Michael Gerrety laughed and slapped his thigh. ‘I like your style, Branna! That’s a bit above the going rate, but like I say, you’re a pretty girl and you’ll probably get it. Is there anything you won’t do? You know what I’m talking about, don’t you? If a client wants to piss on you, or vice versa, or if he wants to bring a friend along for a threesome, or even a foursome?’

‘I don’t care what I do, Mr Gerrety, so long as they treat me with respect, and so long as they pay me.’

‘That’s perfect, Branna. That’s exactly the right attitude. And that’s why you’ve made the right decision, coming to me. If you’d tried to set up on your own, you wouldn’t have the website advertising that I can offer you, so you wouldn’t get nearly so much work. Apart from that, and more important, you wouldn’t get the protection that goes with it. All of the girls who work through Cork Fantasy Girls are very well looked after.’

He finished his drink, and then he said, ‘I’ve had a little trouble with staff lately. I’ve lost one or two of them. But I’m hiring some new fellers and they’ll take good care of you, I promise.’

Branna tried to smile. ‘That’s grand, Mr Gerrety. When do you think I’ll be starting?’

‘Give it a couple of days. We have to set up your web page and get you online. There’s a room free on Carroll’s Quay and you can move into that as soon as you like. We should think of a working name for you, too, shouldn’t we? How about Roxanne? Or Godiva? I like that – Godiva! That’s what we’ll call you.’

Branna nodded, dumbly. She was close to panicking. She had all the evidence she needed on the voice recorder in her bag and all she wanted to do now was get out of here. Although Michael Gerrety appeared to be so relaxed and so matter-of-fact about her working as a prostitute, it was his very nonchalance that frightened her most of all. Here he was, sitting in this luxury apartment as the burning orange sun sank over the city, asking a seventeen-year-old girl if she would allow men to sodomize her and urinate all over her, or even worse, and yet he was treating their conversation as completely normal.

‘There’s one more thing,’ he said. ‘We’ll give you a medical examination before you start. Cork Fantasy Girls is always very responsible when it comes to sexual health. You’ll be given examinations regularly after that, usually about once a month, or at any time you feel that a client might have passed something on to you.’

‘When you say “given” …?’ asked Branna.

‘Oh – I don’t mean given for free. You have to pay for each examination, of course. But you won’t notice because they’re automatically deducted out of your earnings, like everything else. Your website, your rent for your room, the gas you use, the electric, your food, your condoms, your wipes. But you’ll still be making more money in a day than you would have made at Dunne’s in a month, and you won’t be paying any tax or social insurance, so you won’t have anything to complain about.’

‘All right,’ said Branna. She stood up and said, ‘I’ll wait to hear from you, then.’

‘No, you won’t,’ said Michael Gerrety.

‘What?’

‘You won’t hear from me unless you give me your mobile number.’

‘Oh, no, of course not. If you have a pen I’ll write it down for you.’

Michael Gerrety reached across the coffee table and handed her a silver ballpen. ‘Here, write it on this magazine.’

He watched her while she was leaning over the table, writing. When she handed him back the pen and the magazine, he said, ‘What are you wearing, underneath that dress?’

Branna said, ‘A bra. I always have to wear a bra.’

‘Anything else?’

‘No.’

‘Lift it up, then.’

‘What?’

‘Lift up your dress and let’s take a look.’

Branna turned around. Carole Gerrety was still on the phone.

‘Go on,’ said Michael Gerrety. ‘You’ll be doing it professionally from next week.’

There was something hard in Michael Gerrety’s expression that made Branna think that this was a test. She didn’t think that he suspected her of not being genuinely interested in becoming a sex worker, but this was a way of making sure that she had no inhibitions about showing herself off to strange men.

She took hold of the hem of her dress and lifted it up to her waist. Michael Gerrety looked at her for a long moment and then he said, ‘Good. That’s how the punters like it. I’ll be giving you a call, then, as soon as everything’s been arranged.’

He paused, and then he said, ‘That’s grand. You can let it down now. Don’t want the missus to see you flashing your gash, now, do we?’

‘I’ll see you after, then.’

‘Well, not me myself. I don’t personally run this business on a day-to-day basis. But somebody will be in touch with you on my behalf and get you sorted.’

He laid his hand on Branna’s shoulder and steered her towards the door. ‘I want to thank you for coming to see me. I wish all the girls who worked through my website were as wholesome as you are, and I mean it, you’re really wholesome. And you’re very pretty with it. I certainly wouldn’t kick you out of bed for eating crisps.’

They hadn’t reached the door, however, before the doorbell played ‘If I Were a Rich Man’.

Michael Gerrety called out to Carole, ‘Are you expecting anyone? Carole! Carole, will you get off that fecking phone for one minute! Are you expecting anyone?’

Carole didn’t hear him, and the doorbell chimed again. ‘Jesus,’ said Michael Gerrety. ‘It’s probably the Chinky she ordered.’

He opened the door. As soon as he did so, without any hesitation, Obioma stepped into the apartment and shut it behind her. She was all in black, as usual, except for a white scarf knotted around her hair. She was pointing her pocket shotgun directly at Michael Gerrety’s face.

‘How the
feck
did you get in here?’ Michael Gerrety demanded. ‘Carole! Call the guards!
Carole
!’

Carole was still on the phone and still she didn’t hear him. Obioma said, ‘Get back, Mr Gerrety, and sit down on that couch there.’

But Michael Gerrety seized Branna and pulled her in front of him, gripping both of her arms so tightly that she couldn’t twist herself free.

‘What are you going to do then?’ he said, ducking his head down behind Branna’s. ‘Blow this poor girl’s brains out? Carole! Will you get off that fecking phone, Carole. Can’t you see what’s going on here, you dozy mare!
Carole!

Michael Gerrety backed towards the open door that gave out on to the balcony, pulling Branna after him.

‘Leave go of me!’ squealed Branna. ‘Leave go of me! Leave go of me!’

But Michael Gerrety dragged her out on to the balcony and now Carole looked around and saw what was happening.

‘Call the guards!’ Michael Gerrety panted. Branna was throwing herself from side to side and bending herself around and kicking back at him, and he was having to use all of his strength to stop her from breaking away.

Carole said, ‘Name of Jesus, what’s going on? Who’s this?’

‘I said call the fecking guards! She has a gun, for Christ’s sake!’

Obioma stepped out on to the balcony, too. She pointed her pocket shotgun at Carole and said, ‘Drop the phone!’

‘What?’

‘I said drop your phone or I will kill you!’

Carole opened her hand and her phone fell to the floor. ‘Now,’ said Obioma, ‘go to the end of the balcony and kneel down with your back turned and say nothing.’

Carole did as she was told. Michael Gerrety was still wrestling with Branna, but he managed to say, ‘You’re not getting away with this, you bitch!’

‘You don’t think so?’ said Obioma. ‘Mawakiya did what I told him to do and cut off his own hand. So did Mânios Dumitrescu, and Bula, and Mister Dessie. I sent you the proof that they had done it, didn’t I? Did that scare you, Mr Gerrety? Did it make you fearful that I would come to you and make you do the same?’

‘Leave go of me!’ gasped Branna, and then she screamed out, ‘
Help! Help! Somebody help me! Somebody help me!

‘Nobody will hear you up here, my darling,’ said Obioma. ‘But I am not going to harm you. You have done nothing. It is this man, Michael Gerrety, that I want to punish. This is the man who took my sister Nwaha into slavery and made her a prostitute.’

‘What do you want?’ Michael Gerrety asked her. ‘Just tell me what you want and you can have it.’

‘They all said that. All four of those human slugs who worked for you. “Don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, you can have anything! I will give you all the money I can lay my hands on! Just don’t hurt me!”’

‘Listen, I can give you a hundred times more than they could,’ said Michael Gerrety. Branna was jerking her head back now, in an attempt to hit him in the face, and he was having to dodge from side to side. ‘Will you keep still, you stupid bitch!’ he shouted at her. ‘Do you want to get me killed?’

‘Yes!’ she screamed back at him. ‘Yes, I do! I’m not a prostitute at all! I’m a reporter, for the
Echo
, and I’m going to see you damned for what you do!’

‘So you’re a fecking liar, as well as a slag?’

Obioma said, ‘Let her go, Mr Gerrety. You cannot hold on to her forever. My sister killed herself because of what you did to her, and now is the time for you to be punished for it.’

‘If you think you can make me cut off my own hand, you’re badly mistaken. Nobody in the whole of my life ever made me do anything that I didn’t want to do, and you’re not going to be the first.’

Obioma said, ‘There is a saying in Nigeria, Mr Gerrety. He who shits in the road on his way to the farm will meet flies on his way back. You can never escape the consequences of what you have done.’

Carole suddenly started to cry. It was like the crying of a small, terrified child, rather than a middle-aged woman.

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