There were also some other bits and pieces in Brighton that needed attention, before I got on a plane and fucked off to America, in order to get my shattered nut back to some semblance of normality. I had made up my mind that I could afford to swallow the East End stuff and leave it to Longshanks but considered Soho to be mine. There were also numerous freeholds we owned around the Canning Town area, which although didn't bring in much in the way of revenue, had long-term investment potential. Over the previous years I had consolidated mine and Longshanks' Soho properties into various offshore shell companies, run through a mind-boggling web of fake front-men, bent briefs and hookey accountants.
1 I pulled away in my motor, leaving Delroy standing with his prick in his hands, and me with a few hundred grand in the boot, knowing I had to act fast before the shit hit the fan, and that there were still some loose ends that needed to be tied up.
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