of claret spilt, but eventually after a few weeks, the turf war had come to an end. Soho had been reclaimed and Vaughn had gone back to Spain for a while, whilst the other faces who’d also got the call had crawled back to wherever they’d come from.
And now twenty-odd years later, the call had come through, but not because of the Yardies or any other group who thought they were tough enough to take the faces of London on. No, this time the enemy were bigger, more dangerous, more ruthless and they needed all the manpower they could get. Because, this time … this time the triads had come.
The triads were at one time the largest criminal organisation in the world with over half a million members, based mainly in Hong Kong and China with roots dating back to centuries-old secret societies. Over the years the triads had branched out and started to operate in smaller groups, though this regrouping hadn’t lessened any of their violence or criminal activities.
Groups such as the deadly Wong Shing Ho and the infamous 14k gang had exploded onto the British scene in the 1980s, bringing with them fear and intimidation, specialising in armed robbery, racketeering, smuggling, drugs trafficking and selling, as well as prostitution and gambling.
The fear that surrounded them was justified, with torture being commonplace to anyone who refused to comply or anyone foolish enough to try to stand up to them or inform the authorities. And up until now, Soho had been free from the rule of triads, with Shaftesbury Avenue serving as the invisible line dividing Chinatown from Soho. But now, everything had changed.
Vaughn tried to muster a smile for Lola but even he could feel it was crooked, a bit like the rest of the men sitting in the café. No matter how fond of her he was, the last thing he felt like doing was being drawn into any sort of conversation. All he wanted to do was decide on a plan then get the hell home.
As if reading his thoughts, Alfie Jennings piped up, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.
‘Got somewhere else to go, have we mate?’
Vaughn snarled at Alfie, ‘I ain’t your mate, I thought I made that clear to you a long time ago.’
Alfie stared at Vaughn and although he didn’t show it, what Vaughn had said cut him deeply. They once had been best friends, inseparable, and with one thing or another, no thanks to his ex-missus, he’d lost everything. His money, Emmie his daughter, and most of his friends. The money hadn’t mattered; well not really, Alfie was a born wheeler and dealer, a born survivor, and he’d always known one way or another he would climb back up. The friends hadn’t really mattered, most of them had been a bunch of muppets anyway. What had mattered was Emmie and Vaughn. His best mate and his daughter had given him the brush-off when he’d needed them the most.
He knew they’d say the reason they’d turned their backs on him was because of things he’d done in the past; mistakes he’d made with the people he’d got involved with, compromising all their beliefs, but everyone made bad judgements, hadn’t they? Everyone got it wrong from time to time, but it seemed only ever to be him, Alfie Jennings who was punished for it.
He could forgive Emmie. She was his princess and always would be, no matter what. But Vaughn. Vaughn-fucking-yesterday’s-news-Sadler, well he was different. He was a piss take, one that he, Alfie Jennings would never forgive.
Alfie stood up, his six-foot-plus well-built frame looming towards Vaughn. ‘Oh you made it clear. Very clear, mate. Leaving me with fuck all while you and that bird of yours waltzed off with me daughter like you were a contestant on fucking Strictly.’
Vaughn, not in the least intimidated by Alfie, stood up, so that he was nose to nose with him.
‘Do yourself a service, Alf. Turn it in, and stop embarrassing yourself in front of everyone.’
‘I ain’t the embarrassment, but you’d like me to be wouldn’t you? Oh, didn’t you just love it when I was down on me friggin’ hind. But that ain’t the case now, sunshine. ’Cos Alfie is back. Alfie Jennings is back on top.’
‘Alf, you sound like a fucking muppet. For fuck’s sake do us all a turn will ya and do what Vaughn says, or at least keep it tight will ya; I don’t need me ears chewing off with all this schoolgirl shit.’ It was Del Williams who spoke. A big player in Soho as well as the Costa.
Alfie swivelled round, his face turning up into a sneer. ‘When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.’
Del barked back. ‘No, son, I’m just going to give it to you. Wise up mate.’
Alfie’s contempt was palpable. ‘To quote Vaughn here, I ain’t your mate.’
Del rolled up his sleeves. ‘Which will make it all the more easy to knock yer fucking head off.’
‘Hold up! Hold up! Is that right? What’s your frigging problem, Williams? If anyone is going to pull the bollocks, it’s going to be me and it ain’t going to be Alfie’s jewels I’m holding in me hands, it’ll be yours, mate.’ Frankie Taylor bellowed his threat to Del. Besides being good mates with Alfie, he had no time for Del who, since being involved with the Russians, thought he was Al Ca-fucking-pone.
Del laughed aggressively. ‘I didn’t know you needed a nursemaid, Alf; I thought that was more Tommy’s style.’
‘Who you calling a pussy!’ Tommy Donaldson scraped back his chair, entering the arena of arguing men.
‘Gentlemen! Gentlemen! Please!’ Lola wasn’t laughing now, her voice was raised and her arms folded.
‘Zip it will you, darling!’ Del snapped at Lola, causing Tommy, who had always been closer to Lola than his own mum at times, to grab hold of his arm.
‘Don’t speak to her like that, otherwise you’ll have me to deal with.’
‘Oh and is that supposed to rock me fucking boat?’
Johnny Taylor, Tommy’s brother-in law, began to jump to his defence.
‘It ain’t going to rock it, Del, it’s going to …’
‘Enough!’ Vaughn Sadler stood up, banging his fists on the table, staring hard at all assembled. His voice was rough and edged with hardness as the room fell silent.
‘We ain’t here for a mothers’ meeting, but we sure as hell sound like one. I know most of you would rather be somewhere else, but until we sort out exactly how we’re going to keep Soho safe from the threat of the triads then none of us are going anywhere, unless you want to deal with me.’
Alfie’s tone was sarcastic. ‘Oooh! You’re scaring us now, Vaughn. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep in me bed tonight.’
Vaughn, about to turn on Alfie, was stopped by Lola’s soothing voice.
‘Leave it, Vaughnie. You know he’s being a wind up … ain’t you, Alf? Listen, can we all turn it in for now? This ain’t a joke and it ain’t just a threat either. There’s been attacks and there don’t seem to be anyone wanting to stop it. Folk are frightened, real frightened. Greg said the last time he’d seen business people so terrified was when the Krays ruled the East End. We don’t want to go back to that, and besides, these triads make Ronnie and Reggie look like the Flowerpot Men. And that’s why you all got the call. We need help. Soho needs help.’
Johnny nodded his head in agreement. ‘Lola’s right. They clearly want to come and take over and won’t stop at anything until they succeed. What we have to do is stop them, and quick.’
Del interjected. ‘Yeah, but why?’
Johnny looked puzzled. ‘Why what?’
‘Why now, why after living all these years with them in relative harmony do they want to come over to our patch? The triads have been coming and going long before I was around, but now all of a sudden they have a problem with us. It don’t make sense.’
Vaughn spoke matter-of-factly. ‘Maybe it does, maybe it’s just a question of things changing. New people taking over.’