Just who is father Chrismas?

This story is the second part of the Vinny the Diamond story. For part one please click here 

Vinny walked out of the hospital and lit a cigarette; he inhaled greedily. Despite clinging to the dying embers of life when they’d brought him in three weeks ago, he was now well enough to go home. He inhaled again relishing his first cigarette for three weeks. The day was similar to the day he was stabbed, cold with crisp blue skies and bright sunshine the only difference was the snow had gone. The unfamiliar cigarette smoke made him cough, causing pain in his side from where that bitch has stuck the stiletto in with such relish. Worse than his side though was his pride, still dented by the events of that Tuesday afternoon. That day would be etched on his life forever. He’d never forgive himself for letting his guard down; he’d never forget the smile on her face as she twisted the knife; he’d never forget the onion breath, the rasping voice, the insult and the strange cryptic message. ‘Don’t mess with Father Christmas.’

 He hadn’t told his boss anything, he’d not told anyone about what happened. He’d kept stum. Partly because he was ashamed; if his boss found out he was giving the girl the glad eye instead of remaining on his guard, then he’d be back in the hospital or worse the morgue, quicker than you could say stupid fucking twat. But he’d kept quiet mainly because this was his battle; no one messed with Vinny the Diamond, no one. He would find that woman and when he found her she would wish she was dead or wish she’d finished him off good and proper.

He might have been finished off too if the Iscru twins hadn’t arrived. He was bleeding bad, but they’d bundled him into their car and driven him to the hospital. He owed his life to them, but then again if they hadn’t been late in the first place…mah! He owed those crooks nothing.

His boss had given him 3 days, 3 days to ‘do what he needed to do.’ Then he had to be back to work. 3 days should be plenty though. ‘Poor coo le’ that word, that insult, that was what was going to lead him to her. He had no idea right now what it meant, didn’t even know what language it was but it was all he had to go on and someone would know and for the right price someone would tell. For he was Vinny the Diamond and people knew not to mess with him.

Vinny hailed a cab, he’d go back to the scene of the crime. He figured that she must be local, she was clearing snow, who clears snow in someone else’s neighbourhood? He’d ask around, grease a few palms, he’d find her in no time. The cab dropped him on the exact spot where she’d attacked him, he looked for signs of his blood but there were none, washed away with the snow thought Vinny. He started asking questions, made it clear there would be something in it for any information received.  But all he met was a wall of silence - no one knew anything. Vinny knew when people were lying but these people seemed genuine. Maybe her snow clearing was part of the plan. Maybe murderers clear snow in someone else’s neighbourhood.

Next stop the Admiral, the type of bar you don't know about unless you know it and if you don’t know it, you don’t see it and you certainly don’t just walk in off the street. But Vinny knew it and Vinny walked in, lighting a cigarette and ignoring the smoking ban as he did so. A few people looked up from their drinks but most just ignored him. He sat at the bar an ordered a beer keeping himself to himself. You bided your time in a place like this; he might have been a big shot but the rules were the rules. People would come and talk to him when they were good and ready.

Some were probably pleased to see him, some probably wished he’d lost his battle for life. one or two offered handshakes, one or two  even offered him a drink, but none of them offered up any information. It was different in here, not like out on the street; these people weren’t genuine, he was sure he was not getting the full story. They knew something but they were not saying.

He watched the girls at the back table. Eleanora, Anna and Katerina, he’d fucked them all and wouldn’t mind another shot, he was horny after 3 weeks in the hospital. He smiled as Eleanora caught his eye. His diamond didn’t sparkle in here; nothing sparkled in the Admiral.

It wasn’t long before Eleanora was by his side.

‘I thought you were dead.’

‘Did you want me to be?’

‘No’ she answered quickly enough but without any feeling in her voice.

He looked at her. Remembered when he first met her. Just 16 she was then, just in from Bulgaria, such a pretty thing, a smile that could light up even this dreary hovel. So keen back then, keen to earn money and send it back home. She’d been a big hit in the club, all the men asked for Eleanora.  But the boss was ruthless, once you hit 21 you were out, hit or not; out on the streets. You could still play the game but you were on your own. Only you weren’t really on your own cos the boss still controlled the pimps so still took a cut of the money you earned.

‘You gonna buy us a drink then?’ Vinny nodded at the barman who lined up three shot glasses for the girls. Eleanora’s smile had long gone, replaced by a steely look, dead eyes. Vinny wondered how many men had used her services over the years. 

‘Wanna fuck?’

‘It’ll cost ya.’

Vinny looked at her, he’d never paid her for sex before.

‘Thems the rules Vin, can’t give it away, not in this climate.’

Vinny changed tack. ‘What does Poor coo le mean?’

Eleanora looked at him, picked up the three glasses and went back to her table. She’d said nothing but he knew she knew and she knew he knew she knew.

The three girls drank their drinks and headed back out on to the streets. As Eleanora passed him she said ‘I know nothing but I'll ask the Romanian girls, I hear them say that about tricks they don’t like.’

'Okay' Vinny slipped some cash into her hand 'and ask them who Father Christmas is too.' 

Eleanora looked at him askance. Vinny just nodded.

Vinny had some thinking to do.

The Romanians? Like the Iscru Twins? 

can't wait for part 3? click here