Two hours after each raid some similar faces would reappear in the back rooms for a very quiet drink with the big boys. A few nights later the same thing would happen, one of the men’s pagers would ring, he would simply nod then say, ‘You have fifteen minutes, get moving. Fucking pigs, when will they realise I am smarter than them?’
Everyone would groan as if to say here we go again, more loss of business. I would flick the lights in the strip room and the underage girls would make their exit through the back door via the kebab store. Even the customers knew what that meant: if you were holding any drugs on you, it was time to leave. Then sure enough, fifteen minutes later the police would arrive once again. The honest cops could be seen shaking their heads in wonderment, looking for an explanation from their corrupt partners. They knew there was a leak, they just couldn’t plug it.
10
The Cross Women
Joe’s nephew Marc was starting to take our relationship a little too seriously for my liking. I liked him but not in the physical sense—he was great to have around. He was generous, well connected and gorgeous to look at.
In the Cross women are always someone’s property. The girls who worked in Nico’s club were known as Nico’s girls. If you dated Jo, you were known as Jo’s girl. And the closer you were to Joe, the higher up the pecking order you were. Needless to say dating Joe’s right-hand man and blood relative made me beyond reproach.
My brother thought it great his sister had a kiosk in the heart of a strip joint/brothel because even though he was only fourteen, I could sneak him in if he stayed quiet. The pros don’t care how old you are as long as you have money, so occasionally one of them would proposition Dieter. His cheeks would redden, and his ego would just about explode.
One afternoon, he met me on the strip at one of the cafes. He had brought along a mate and his girlfriend to meet me. Together we all played pool for a couple of hours.
At about nine o’clock, the girlfriend, Monique, declared, ‘Sorry guys, my mum’s going to be worried if I don’t get home soon, I’ll catch you tomorrow.’
Nine was the witching hour for me as well. I kissed my brother and his friend goodbye and trotted off to work.
Half an hour into my evening Nico introduced me to our latest recruit, Mistee. She looked a lot older than the last time I saw her, which had been half an hour earlier. Mistee’s eyes widened. She couldn’t believe she would get caught out on the first night.
‘You don’t mind if I stick to Monique do you?’ I said pointedly. She was from an exclusive suburb, a well-to-do family, great school yet wanted to be a pro. Somehow I had to try to stop her from ruining her life. I told my boss that she was only fourteen. He didn’t care—far as he was concerned, it was a bonus.
She took clients upstairs for $70, of which she would get $35, and she was chuffed. She took to the trade like a duck to water. Why did I take it so personally if this spoiled brat wanted to follow in my footsteps? I didn’t ask her why she had decided that this was the career for her, I just imagined that she had thought it through and decided to go ahead. But I can honestly say that I had never seen someone so emotionally cool about a first night, except, of course, myself. Usually there were tears, running mascara, a few shots of Dutch courage, apprehensive and reluctant steps to the room. Followed by quiet remorse, but Monique was as cold as ice.
There was another girl, Brenda from Brisbane, whom I took under my wing. She was only eleven and didn’t even have boobs yet; she had these little poached egg looking things. She had a friend who liked to call herself Sky, who was fourteen and totally wild.
One night I walked into room three to prepare it for the evening, to find Sky sticking a needle in Brenda’s arm. Brenda looked petrified. There was a man there who would have been roughly twenty-eight, but I would say only one more hit away from his eternal peace. I could have killed Sky at that moment were it not for her totally unpredictable junkie boyfriend/co-conspirator beside her. Instead I told Sky in no uncertain terms to take her fuckwit friend out of the work rooms and never to bring needles into any of the three clubs again. As the three of them walked past me, I grabbed Brenda by the arm. She was clearly under the influence of heroin. I told Brenda that from now on she could live with me and I would protect her. I told her that Sky did not have her back. To my surprise she wouldn’t listen, and shrugged off my grip to traipse after Sky.
Within a couple of weeks, Brenda began missing shifts. One morning I walked out to empty the rubbish and she was lying on the side of the road, foaming at the mouth. I called the ambulance. They saved her life, not that she was grateful, and she was back on the streets as soon as she was physically able.