It was a week later when Max became aware of his surroundings. There was someone moving around the room, making no attempt to be quiet. He had the feeling of being safe and cared for.
There was a smell, a mixture of old and dirty furnishings, stale tobacco smoke, reheated ready meals and mold from a badly ventilated shower room and toilet. Now the faint smell of Dove soap and a delicate perfume drifted over him as he felt someone start to wash his face. His stubble snagged the face cloth as the person washing him gently navigated over his face.
“Eyes, yes, try to open my eyes,” thought Max, as he summoned his wits and slowly opened them.
“Hi Max!” said the young girl beaming down at him. She patted his skin dry with a soft towel. He could not remember seeing her before, and after a moment’s thought, replied. “Who are you? Where am I?”
“I’m Star, the person huddled in the shop doorway. You asked for help and I brought you here. I got you this bedsit and have been looking after you. You’ve been very ill for a week now, a terrible fever. With Bill’s help, we managed to keep you alive. It looks like you’re over the worst of it, and should be back on your feet soon. I had to pay Bill a bit more for your care and expenses if you didn’t make it. He would have had to get rid of you if you had died. He couldn’t afford to be caught, harboring a wanted man like you, Max Fortune.”
“Why would he do that for me anyway? He took a big chance,” questioned Max.
“Bill was held prisoner in Iraq and is a bit weird about oppression, imprisonment and things like that. He believes the politicians and Government officials should do the fighting themselves and not make the rest of the population do their dirty work, just as they did in the old days. If a country went to war, the country appointed champions to fight one another and accepted the outcome. That way, only a couple of men died, not many hundreds or thousands.”
“Bill sounds like my kind of guy,” he replied, as he considered Bill’s philosophy.
As Max tried to move, the hard bed made a crackling noise under him and felt very wet. He tried to ease himself up to see what he was lying on. The damp sheet over his body sucked a blast of cold air in and now he started to feel most uncomfortable.
“We covered you with a wet sheet to keep your temperature down and made up a bed on the floor using plastic bin liners filled with blankets. We were not always able to get you to the toilet in time either, and then there was the massage to prevent bedsores. There were other times when you were shivering, and I had to keep you warm-. Forget it!”
Max was horrified. This young girl had seen him naked, cleaned him up and nursed him. True, young nurses do it all the time, but somehow this was different, not natural. What was in it for her? Then he thought about the situation; what if Star had been a boy as he first thought and not a girl? That prospect revolted him even more. No doubt the boy would have robbed him and left him to die.
He looked at the girl’s face. She was probably in her early twenties and quite attractive. Her oval face was alive with expression; every thought seemed to register there. “This is an intelligent and vital person,” he thought. He noticed her clean fresh skin, enhanced with a faint trace of makeup and hint of blusher on her cheeks. He looked into her dark brown eyes as they flicked and darted, missing nothing. Skillfully applied mascara made her look wide eyed like an excited child. Her long wavy, dark brown hair was secured by a scrunchie, creating a wild bush at the back. The recently applied perfume had a delicate fragrance that smelt very expensive.
She stood up and watched his eyes continue to examine her. Her crisp cotton blouse covered well formed, firm breasts that were, in Max’s opinion, slightly large for her petite build. Brand new, tight jeans hugged her slender hips and thighs. He felt most embarrassed at his sexist appraisal of Star, presumably her first name, but she appeared to realize this and accepted the situation without comment.
“What happened to the boy dosser in the shop doorway wearing a hoody and jeans?” he asked.
“You made the mistake of thinking I was a boy. Perhaps you prefer boys? I used some of your money to smarten up and draw less attention to myself while out getting stuff so I could look after you. Don’t worry, I worked to a tight budget, and in case you are wondering, I treated myself to a tester in Boots, it’s called Coco Noir.”
“You’ve certainly taken over, haven't you.” commented Max
“Well, you thought you would be well again after a night’s rest, but a week later, you’re still a liability. I, on the other hand, have honored our arrangement and looked after you. Such care and devotion costs a lot, and you owe me!” Star exclaimed in no uncertain terms.
“She does have an agenda then,” thought Max. “I’d better watch my step until I figure out what it is.”
“Do you feel up to some tomato soup, Max? You told me it’s your favorite.”
“Yes please. Have I been talking in my sleep?”
“You have been up on your feet from time to time, but obviously delirious. I didn’t put any faith in what you said. Don’t ask. I won’t repeat it even to you.”
Max was quiet as he pondered over his situation, but eventually spoke again.
“We need to get more money and move to a better area.”
“What do you have in mind?” Star asked as she brought the soup over and began to spoon-feed him.
“I plan to steal money from drug dealers. They have so much of it, and we don’t.”
He wanted to deliberately gauge Star’s reaction to the statement, and watched her face for clues.
“And your plan?” she replied, with no particular emotion.
“I’ve already started forming the plan, but I need more info before the scheme can be fleshed out.”
“Well Max, you’d better get a move on, because we must pay Bill today and funds are low, to say the least.”
“I’m well aware of that. As far as I know, the structure of drug distribution and payment at the top end of the pyramid is deliberately cellular. I have located one level already, but it is near the bottom. At a pinch, I could target it again, but they will tighten security and try to catch me. I’ll explain briefly how I think it works.
“At the top of the pyramid is the importer of the purest drug. The importer sells large chunks to people he knows and trusts. For security, the chunks are split into smaller packages and distributed to safe hiding places. For example, storage lockers at a train station, never the same lockers, countless people coming and going, so it’s hard to spot the dealer or the buyer.
“Now, a small scale buyer phones the dealer and agrees to pay in full, and in advance. He leaves the cash in a locker and leaves the key at a legitimate front business. When the dealer has collected the cash, the buyer’s given a key to a different locker containing the drugs. To any observer there is no outward clue that a transaction has been made.
“If the police pounce on the front business, there will be no cash or drugs, so the trail ends there. If the buyer is followed and arrested when the locker is opened, the trail ends there also, because the buyer doesn’t know the seller. Even if the buyer exposes the front business, there’s no link to the seller.
“A similar cell structure is applied to other layers further down as well. To get access to a top level, the simplest way is to track vehicle movements, observe, and possibly bug conversations. I need more cash for that, because the equipment is beyond our current resources.”
With a quizzical look on her innocent face, Star asked, “How much d’you need and where do we go from here?”
“Allowing for the rent and food to stay here several weeks more and the basic equipment, I think £2000 would cover it. That means I’ll have to hit a few bottom end dealers when they have collected from their couriers. At least that way it won’t upset the trade at higher levels.
“I’m sure they will not want to advertise their vulnerability to their sellers higher up in the pyramid, and risk their business.”
“Max, I hope you haven’t forgotten the police and security forces are on the lookout for you, and now you are pissing off a bunch of vicious thugs in the drugs trade. I take it you don’t intend to bother with life insurance; it would be a waste of money.”
“True, but you haven’t done anything wrong and I need you to do the scouting for me. I can do the other parts, under cover of darkness, so no one will suspect either of us,” assured Max.
“When do we start, then?”
“If I am up to it, tonight would be fine. By the way, I hope you kept Vlad and Goodnight, and my clothes.”
Star laughed at Max's names for his weapons.
“Yes, I kept everything, but the smell of the clothes was so bad I put them all in a bin bag. I wondered if you pulled them off a corpse.” Star screwed up her face and laughed again.
“I did actually,” confessed Max, “just the coat and shoes.”
Star shook her head in mock disgust and cleared away the dirty crockery.