Private Oz (Private 7)

“Gambling?”

Loretto nodded. “Stupid bastard must be the worst punter in history, but he don’t give up.”

“How much does he owe you?”

Jerry frowned, then tapped his nose. “Client confidentiality,” and laughed loudly. “Let’s just say a lot.”

“And you’ve given him an ultimatum?”

“One he probably can’t meet.”

Johnny nodded. “He really is up to here …” He imitated Loretto’s earlier gesture.

“Oh yes, Johnny Boy. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes in three days’ time.”

Chapter 116

I GOT THE call from the hooker Ruthie just as I was dropping Justine off at her hotel. The girl sounded nervous as hell and at one point I thought she’d change her mind and hang up.

“Can we meet?” I said.

“Where?”

“There’s a bar in Crows Nest, The Corporal Jones.”

“I know it.”

“I could be there in half an hour.”

I lowered the phone and turned to Justine. “That was the prostitute I met at the place in Chester Street. Wants to talk.”

“Let’s go then.”

We got there on time and sat nursing glasses of insipid pub wine for almost twenty minutes before Ruthie showed. She saw us at a table by a window and walked over.

I did the introductions and fetched the girl a double vodka and tonic, then waited for her to start talking.

“This business with the cameras,” she began, looking from me to Justine and back. “Can’t handle it no more. Something’s going on at work. It smells rotten. I want out.”

“I can understand that,” Justine commented.

“Can you?” Ruthie replied sarcastically.

Justine took a sip of wine.

“Is that why you called me?” I asked.

The girl gave me a hard look. “I want five hundred bucks.”

“Do you now!”

“I think when you’ve heard what I’ve got to say you’ll think it’s cheap.”

“Go on.”

She had a hand out on the table, palm up.

I took out my wallet as surreptitiously as I could. I’d suspected something like this would happen and stopped at an ATM on the way over. I pulled out a handful of fifties. “Two hundred now,” I said. “Two hundred more if I consider your information important enough.”