Darling James

Chapter 5-2

Zolo was at the Battered Cruiser when we showed up at six thirty, deliberately late.

“Good, good,” Malossini murmured. “He’s already got a half-empty glass of beer in front of him.” He raised his voice. “Johnny! Amigo! Sorry I’m late.”

Zolo grinned and rose, swaying a bit before he pulled Malossini into a full-body hug. They pounded each other on the back. “Is good to see you again, Cally. C’mon, have a pint. I’m already two ahead of you.”

Malossini gave me a sly wink. Yeah, that made him really happy.

They sat down, and Zolo reached for his wallet as he signalled to the barmaid. “Tres cervazas, mujer.”

“Huh?”

“Three beers, Moll,” I translated. The barmaid scowled at him.

Malossini put his hand on Zolo’s, stopping him from opening his wallet. “This is on me, to make up for the other night. Your money is no good tonight.” He nodded to me, and I went up to the bar, paid for the three beers, and waited while the barmaid filled the glasses.

“He’s a foreigner,” I told the barmaid by way of explaining why Zolo hadn’t realised he should have gone up to the bar to get the pints.

“Ah. That explains it.”

“Keep them coming, okay, luv?”

She looked into my eyes, glanced at Malossini, then slid her gaze to the other end of the bar. She wanted to talk to Malossini. I nodded, picked up the glasses, and brought them to the table.

Zolo grabbed his and gulped down about half.

“Ah, mi amigo, esto es muy bueno.”

“English!”

His grin was sotted. “This is very good beer, my friend. Warm, but good.”

I leaned close to Malossini’s ear. “Moll has something for you.”

“It’s about f*****g time someone does,” he muttered. He glanced at Zolo and grinned in turn, pleased with how the beer was affecting him. “So, how you been?”

“Good, good. Hey, you want to see my Carmelita? She is…” His grin—he might have poor taste in friends, but it was obvious how in love with her he was. Well, that explained how he got three kids on her.

“Sure. Just let me go shake hands with the unemployed. Gino.”

“Right, Boss.” I followed him. This might be his pub, but there were still men who’d like to get rid of him.

On the way to the loo, he stopped at the bar. Molly was chatting up a customer. “’alf a mo, luv,” she murmured and came over to Malossini. “Thought you might like to see this, Mr M.” She slid a coin across the bar to him.

I was able to get a look at it, too.

“What the…?” He picked it up and checked it out. It was a tarnished piece of silver. On one side was the bust of an extremely ugly woman with the year 1780 under it. On the back was a barely legible rendition of a Spanish coat of arms. “Is this real?”

“Oh, yeah. I weren’t about to get stiffed by some scruffy seaman. And it’s worth an ’ell of a lot more than the drinks he paid for. It’s a honest to gawd piece of eight!”

Malossini didn’t ask how she knew; Molly had her sources. She grinned.

“His mate weren’t none too happy about it, gov.” She dropped her aitches all over the place, her Cockney accent very pronounced. It got that way when she became excited—I’d gone out with her until she realised the odds of me moving up in Malossini’s organisation were minimal, and then we’d parted with no hard feelings. “Offered me a quid to buy it back, then tore a strip off him when I said no.”

“Did he…er…say where he got it?” Malossini turned it over and over in his fingers. “There’s got to be more of these little beauties at home,” he said softly.

“He did indeed, gov! The scruffy one whined that they could get more of them, a whole cave of them, all they had to do was find someone who’d got enough lolly to finance a expedition an’ get them back to that island off Brazil. Said their ship’d dropped anchor off shore to take on some fresh water, and that’s how they found the coins. The beach was littered with them.”

“What about their shipmates? Surely they would know of this place and want their cut?”

“Nah. Scruffy one said it were just him and his mate who rowed to shore. His mate gave him a clout on the ear hole then, and told him to sharrup.” Her expression was avid. “I reckoned you’d be innerested.”

“You reckoned right, Molly, my fine girl. If they come back, or you hear anything more, you’re to get right in touch with me, is that clear?” He nodded to me, and I gave her a quid.

“Sure thing, gov.” She tucked it into her cleavage. “Not like I could forget them. The scruffy one were kinda cute, and if he weren’t so gone on his mate, I’da made a play for him myself.” She patted my hand. “No hard feelings, luv?”

“None at all, luv.”

“Gone on his mate?” Malossini wasn’t paying attention. I had a feeling in the morning he’d send me out somewhere to have the coin appraised and to discover which toffs who collected these coins would pay him the most for it.

“Oh, yeah. He couldn’t keep his hands off him.”

“A couple of poofs?” Malossini curled his lip in disgust, but Molly just nattered on.

“Funny thing about his mate. You know how it’s dark as a dungeon in here, even in daylight? Well, he wore dark glasses.”

“Who f*****g cares?” He put the coin in his pocket. He might not care about why the seaman wore sunglasses at night, but I was interested. I’d need to pass on the information to Mr Trevalyan.

“Here, gov!” Molly protested. “I’ll be short at the end of the night.”

“Gino?”

“Right.” I handed her another note, one that would be more than enough to cover the scruffy seaman’s drinks, and she was smart enough not to ask for more.

Malossini went to the loo, and I stood outside waiting for him. When he finally came out, he said, “Okay, let’s go look at pictures of Zolo’s fat fiancée.”

* * * *

Malossini looked at his watch. “Bugger, is that the right time?”

It was almost quarter past seven.

Zolo grinned at him. “Yeah, I reckon it is.” His face fell. “We was gonna have dinner. You got a hot date?”

“No…uh…I forgot to feed the cat.”

“You got a cat? Since when? I thought you hated the buggers.”

“It’s Gino’s cat.”

“Ah. You’re lucky,” Zolo said to me. “Cally must like you a lot.”

Oh, hell, I wished he hadn’t said that. The look Malossini sent my way was lethal.

Zolo continued, oblivious. “Was a time he’d just as soon shoot a cat as look at it.”

“Well, Daisy is a luv.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll just pop ’round home and be right back.” This time Malossini gave me a meaningful glance which told me Zolo had better be dead by the time he got back. He pushed back his seat, rose, and strode out of there, shoving aside some of the patrons who started to protest, but then shut up.

I sighed. Zolo didn’t strike me as a bad guy. It was a shame I’d have to kill him. “Why don’t we have another drink while we wait for the boss to come back?”

“Sounds good.” He was starting to slur his words. “An’ you can see more pictures of my boy, Henrique.”

“Sure, Juan.”

He sniffled. “I like you, Gino. You call me by my name, not some English version of it.”

I patted his shoulder. “Now, how old is Henrique in this picture?”