Complicity Part 5 (3/6) By Nick Quantrill

(1/6), (2/6), (3/6), (4/6), (5/6), (6/6). Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.

Coleman ordered more drinks for himself and Maynard, as they found themselves getting quietly drunk in the corner of the The Sailmakers Arms. They sat drinking from their pints in silence, glancing at the football on the television, both waiting for the other to say something. 'Looks like another win for Chelsea'. Coleman looked up at the television and grunted. 'I wonder how City are getting on...' Coleman and Maynard were both season ticket holders at the KC Stadium. 'Away at Southampton...we'll do well to scrape a draw' said Coleman as he reached for his pint of lager.

Not being in the mood for skirting around the issue, Maynard plunged in. 'Where do we go from here, then? Nobody wants to stand up to Mallory and incriminate him. We're fucked.' Coleman considered this as he took another mouthful of his lager. 'It stinks, it really does. Mallory might not have handed the drugs to Laura Fry, but they were his drugs all the same, and though Stutt is a toe-rag, he doesn't deserve to be fitted up for something like that.' 'But unless somebody is prepared to trust us and let us look after them, we're not going to get near him for this.'

Coleman looked at him witheringly. 'Nobody trusts us because Mallory will still get to them. We know that as well as they do. Even if we could offer 24 hour protection, it wouldn't be enough.' 'There must be a way though. We can't let people like him have the run of the city.' Coleman drained his glass and set it back on the table.

'Maybe... I'll see you tomorrow.' Coleman pushed open the doors of the 'Vogue' club. It was a place that marketed itself as an upper-class gentleman's establishment, where the more discerning individual could have a quiet drink in the bar, an enjoyable gamble in the casino area before finishing the evening with a lap-dance from a nubile young lady.

To Coleman's eyes it was little more than a flashy veneer for illegal gambling, prostitution and drug dealing. People would always be attracted to places that they feel are touched by danger or glamour. It was also owned by David Mallory. He pushed his way to the bar and ordered another pint of lager, thinking that he may as well enjoy himself before his presence was noted. Turning his back on the bar, he moved along to the end to watch the show. Another practically naked dancer was wrapping herself around a pole for the benefit of a group of men, attempting to convince them that she got some pleasure from her performance.

The way they whistled and cheered suggested that they were prepared to accept her efforts at face value. Coleman moved back along the bar and stood next to David Peel, who was smiling and nodding his head in time with the beat as the girl removed her underwear. 'Enjoying the show, Mr Peel?' Peel smiled back. 'Too right. She's not bad, is she?'

Continued... Next Page (4/6)

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