‘It was them twins’ fault,’ Fabulina said. ‘That’s who I blame. He was all right until they came along. Oh, he had a bit too much drugs now and then and a bit of a crush on old Johnny Walker. But he had a clean head, if you know what I mean. And a clean heart. And then they came along, them Pooles, and fucked him up good and proper. You wouldn’t believe the state he came home in from that place of theirs. He’d be gone for days on end. I reckon they had him locked up half the time. Then he comes home more dead than alive. I’m sorry there’s nothing to eat, daughter; the mice got the last of the cake.
‘One time he only just made it.’ Fabulina’s hand trembled as she poured the tea. ‘Walked through this door and collapsed on the floor. His shirt was soaked in blood. Flensing they call it, apparently. They’d peeled off flaps of skin to make a pattern on his back. He was flayed raw, the poor bastard. I wanted to get the doctor but he wouldn’t have it. I had to nurse him for a fortnight, bathing his back with antiseptic three times a day. And then as soon as he was well enough, fuck me if he wasn’t back there for more. That’s when I put my foot down.
Sex is sex and believe me I’ve had my share. S and M, B and D, watersports, you name it. But this was something different. Something I couldn’t put my finger on and didn’t want to. I don’t know what kind of hold they had over him. I’ve got a feeling they might have been feeding him smack. So I said to him, “Daughter, it’s them or me. If you’re going to carry on letting them hurt you like this, you’ll have to pack your bags. My nelly nerves can’t stand it.’’ He hung around for a few more weeks, cracking it now and then, you know, for a bit of pocket money. But I could tell he was agitated. Couldn’t sit still for a minute. And I knew he was hitting the booze. Then one day I come home from the bingo and he’s gone. Packed up and gone. I was that upset. Never mind what I said, I didn’t think he would just up and off like that. I loved that boy. He was my blue-eyed baby doll.’ Fabulina wiped her eyes with a tea-towel, smudging the purple eyeshadow.
‘Have you seen him since?’ I asked.
‘Never. When he left, I kept ringing them twins. I was sure that’s where he would go, to that Pain place of their’s. But they pretended they didn’t know who I was talking about.’
I explained to Fabulina how I had met Sykes and what he had told me. How much he meant to me. How I was nervous for his safety while the trial was on because of his affiliation with the Poole brothers. She removed the lid from the silver chafing dish. It was full of money. She rummaged through the notes with her clawed fingers and withdrew a crumpled hundred dollar bill.
‘Take it,’ she said. ‘Take it and give it to him when you find him. And here’s one for you. For expenses.’ I demurred but Fabulina was insistent.
‘When you find him, bring him here. I’ll look after him. Bring him here to me. Promise?’ I promised and then Fabulina named the bar where Sykes and I had met.
‘Keep trying there. He used to like that place. God knows why. All those tragic Chappaqueenos.’