A long silence ensued, broken only by the tick-tock of the kitchen clock. Jason finished his tea.
‘Like I said before, I’ve never heard of this “Hammer”. So if you’ll excuse me I’d like to go and call my credit card company.’
Helen and Charlie said nothing as they walked away from the house, both too angry to risk speaking. It wasn’t until they were safely inside the car that Helen finally spoke.
‘Lying little shit.’
Charlie nodded.
‘Stay on him, Charlie. Ring him, email him every day or so with a couple of extra questions, a couple of extra details. He may just be embarrassed or he may know something – keep squeezing him until you find out which.’
‘It’ll be my pleasure.’
‘In the meantime, we have to work harder to find the others. “HappyGoLucky”, “Dangerman”, “fillyerboots”, “BlackArrow” – I want them hunted down. Someone out there knows where we can find Angel.’
‘Sure. Do you want me to take the lead –’
‘Yup. Run them to ground and I’ll rendezvous with you back at the nick. But drop me in the city centre first.’
Charlie looked up, intrigued.
‘I’ve got a date that I’m keen to keep.’
59
They walked down the lonely corridor, her plastic, high-heeled boots squeaking with every step she took. Trailing just behind, Tony took her in. ‘Melissa’ was far more attractive than he’d expected her to be. Long sleek legs encased in shiny black boots, a tight backside, a sensual, full-lipped face framed by a short black bob. Tony knew not all prostitutes were yellow-toothed junkies but he was still surprised at how well presented she was.
He had picked her up at Hoglands Park, a skateboarders’ hangout in the north of the city that was virtually deserted at night. He’d radioed in as he approached the venue and later had spotted the tail car in his rear-view mirror, as they’d headed south towards the docks, but still he felt a spike of fear now that he was alone with her. They had driven in silence to the Belview Hotel, a down-at-heel B&B that wasn’t fussy about its clientele. Tony had paid for the night up front, then they’d headed to the first floor. En route, they’d passed a middle-aged man descending in the company of a half-dressed Polish girl. He had looked straight at Tony, who’d dropped his eyes to the floor, unwilling to be drawn into this unpleasant camaraderie.
Soon, they were inside room 12. Melissa slung her bag and coat down on the only chair in the room, then sat down on the bed.
‘So what can I do for you, Paul?’
She stressed the last word, as if she knew it was a lie.
‘I’m all yours.’
She smiled a broad, sexy smile, full of mischief. Tony was surprised to feel a twinge of desire for this acquiescent plaything and sat down on the chair to hide the beginnings of an erection.
‘I like to watch,’ he replied as calmly as he could. ‘Why don’t you do your thing for a while and we’ll take it from there?’
She looked at him curiously. Then:
‘It’s your money, honey,’ she replied, shrugging.
Taking the hint, Tony reached into his wallet and pulled out £150. Pocketing it, Melissa lay down on the bed.
‘Do you want me to keep my boots on, while I …’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. I like it better that way.’
Melissa let her hands wander over her body. She had a muscular, toned physique that was certainly fit for purpose and the more she got into it, the more Tony desperately wanted to look out of the window. It was absurd really. He knew he had to play the part and keep his eyes glued to her. He knew, in spite of his now full erection, that this was just part of the job, a set-up designed to yield valuable information. And yet he still felt extremely uncomfortable, the level of his arousal surprising and alarming him.
As Melissa feigned her way to climax, she urged him to get involved, to treat her how she deserved to be treated. Tony had to think on his feet to avoid physical contact, instead firing off a volley of obscenities to bring her to ‘orgasm’. She was a good actress – anyone listening in would have assumed she’d just had the greatest sexual experience of her life. Afterwards, she re-clothed herself, shooting a look at the cracked clock on the wall.
‘You’ve still got ten minutes left, baby – do you want me to suck you off?’
‘I’m fine. Can we talk?’
‘Sure. What you want to talk about?’
‘I wanted to ask if we could do this again.’
‘Of course. I’m always up for fun.’
‘You been doing this long?’
‘Long enough.’
‘You like it?’
‘Of course,’ she replied. Tony knew she was giving him the lie she thought he wanted to hear.
‘Ever have any trouble?’
‘Now and again,’ she replied, not looking him in the eye.
‘How do you deal with it?’
‘I’ve got ways. But usually there are other girls around.’
‘To keep an eye out for you?’
‘Right. Do you mind if I use the loo, honey, I’ve got to be out again soon.’
She walked off to the bathroom. Moments later the toilet flushed and she emerged, making straight for her coat and bag.
‘Could I pay you for some more of your time?’
She paused.
‘You want me to do it again?’
‘No, no, I just want to talk. I … I’m alone in the city. I won’t see my family until the weekend and I … well, I just like to talk.’
‘Ok,’ she replied, sitting down on the bed.
Tony fished another £50 from his wallet and handed it over.
‘So where are you from?’
‘Lots of places. But I was born in Manchester if that’s what you mean.’
‘Still got family there?’
‘None that are worth bothering with.’
‘Right.’
‘How about you, Paul? You from round here?’
‘Born and bred.’
‘That’s nice. Good to have a home.’
‘You live near here?’
‘Just stopping with a friend. As long as I’m getting work, I’ll stay put.’
‘Are you making decent money?’
‘Pretty good. I’m more open-minded than some.’
‘Do you ever work with other girls?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘Do you do threesomes?’
‘Sure.’
‘There’s a girl I’m interested in hooking up with. Angel. Perhaps you know her?’
Melissa paused, then looked up.
‘I’m not sure you want to get to know her, honey.’
‘Why not?’
‘Just trust me, you don’t. Besides, there’s nothing she can do for you that I can’t.’
‘But if I wanted a threeso—’
‘I can find you another girl.’
‘But I want Angel.’
Another long pause.
‘Why?’
‘Because I’ve heard good things about her.’
‘Who from?’
‘Other guys.’
‘Like hell you have.’
‘Sorry?’
‘This is your first time, isn’t it? You’re as green as they come.’
‘So?’
‘You don’t look the type to be jawing with other fellas about what toms like me get up to.’
Tony was surprised to feel affronted, but gathered himself.
‘Ok, maybe I am new, but I know what I want. I’m happy to give you cash if you can set it up.’
‘What have you heard about her, then?’
‘Just that she likes to be hit, denigra— … abused, you know. She’ll let you do things that other girls don’t.’
‘And who’s told you about her?’
‘Guys.’
‘Guys?’
‘You know, other g—’
‘Who?’
‘People I’v
e chatted to –’
‘Give me their names.’
‘I don’t really –’
‘Give me their names.’
‘Er … I think one was called Jeremy. And –’
‘Where did you meet them?’
‘Online.’
‘How?’
‘On a forum.’
‘What was the name of the forum?’
‘I can’t remember the name –’
‘And you want to meet Angel?’
‘Yes!’
‘Because you want to question her? Like you’re questioning me?’
‘No, no,’ Tony replied, but he had hesitated a nanosecond too long and he knew it.
Melissa was already on her feet.
‘A bloody cop. I knew it.’
‘Melissa, wait.’
‘Thanks for the chat and the cash, but I’ve got to go.’
Tony put a hand on her arm to stop her.
‘I just want to talk to you.’
‘You lay one more finger on me and I will scream the bloody house down. Then every hooker for miles around will know you’re a pig, right?’
‘I just need to find Angel. It’s really important that I find …’
‘Go fuck yourself.’
She left, leaving the door open behind her. Tony’s first instinct was to go after her, but what was the point? Defeated, he sat down heavily on the bed. Melissa was their best lead and he’d blown it completely. It had cost him quite a lot to inhabit this role – had raised questions he didn’t want to ask himself – and he’d ended up with nothing.
Next door the sound of frantic copulation cranked up, beating out the rhythm of his failure. Picking up his coat, he hurried out. He wanted to be away from this place. Away from the sex. And away from this crushing defeat.
60
The caravan stood alone on the open wasteland. Framed by the gypsy fires that burned nearby, it looked almost beautiful. Inside it was less pleasant, mildewed and rotting, the detritus of drug use littering the floor. Still, it would do for tonight – a mattress was slung down on the floor, ready for action.
‘You a soldier then?’ she asked.
‘Was. Afghanistan.’
‘I love soldiers – you killed any ragheads?’
‘A few.’
‘My hero. I should give you one on the house.’
Simon Booker shrugged off the suggestion. He didn’t want her pity. Or her charity. That wasn’t why he was here. He pulled some notes from his wallet, laying them on the stained Formica breakfast bar. As he did so, he noticed his wedding ring and began to tug at it.
‘Don’t worry about that, love. I won’t tell if you don’t. It’s thirty for oral, fifty for straight, hundred for anything else. And I’m going to need you to use a condom, love. Don’t want any of the diseases you picked up from those foreign whores, do I?’
Simon Booker nodded and turned, bending down to retrieve his condoms from his bag. He couldn’t find them at first and had to rootle around, before eventually locating them. As he stood up, he was surprised to see Angel standing by the door.
‘You stay the fuck away from me!’ she spat at him.
‘What? I was just getting the –’
‘What’s the iron bar for?’
Shit. She’d obviously spotted it as he’d rooted through his holdall.
‘It’s nothing. Just for protection. But I’ll put it outside if you like.’
He moved towards it.
‘Don’t you dare touch it. If you do, I’ll shout. I’ve got mates over there. People who look out for me. Do you know what gypsies do to the likes of you?’
‘All right. Keep your hair on.’
Simon was irritated now. He wanted to have sex not a full-blown slanging match.
‘You put it outside then. I don’t want any trouble,’ he said.
She looked scared but slowly edged her way to the bag, keeping an eye on him the whole time. Picking up the bag, she lobbed it outside – it landed with a dull thud. She breathed out, composing herself.
‘Right then, shall we start again?’ she said, her smile wide but forced.
‘Sure.’
‘Come and give me a kiss then. And once I’ve got to know you better I’ll put your big dick in my mouth.’
That was more like it. Simon crossed the floor. Hesitantly at first, he put his hands on her waist. She responded by lacing her arms round his neck and pulling his mouth towards hers.
‘Let’s get this started, shall we?’
As Simon Booker closed his eyes, Angel brought her knee sharply up into his groin. As Simon froze, stunned, she did it again and again. Crumpling to the floor, he gasped for breath. He wanted to puke. Oh God, the pain was horrible.
He looked up to find Angel standing over him. The smile was gone now and in her hand she held the iron bar from his bag. Without warning, she brought it crashing down on his head. Once, twice, three times just to make sure. Then she paused, crossing the floor to shut the caravan door. Locking it from the inside, she paused to catch her breath. Staring down at her victim, she could feel her excitement rising.
It was time for the fun to begin.
61
Heads turned as she marched through the office towards Emilia Garanita’s office. In the wake of her eye-catching work on Marianne, Emilia had been awarded a corner office from which to plot her next exclusive. It was airless and poky but it was one in the eye for the other hacks, which is why Emilia liked it so much. And it afforded her a good view of the newsroom and of Helen Grace, who was now striding towards her.
Helen Grace had never set foot in the offices of the Evening News, so whatever it was it was going to be good. Was this the first counter-move in their battle or a very public capitulation? Emilia sincerely hoped it was the latter. She would try to be gracious.
‘Helen, how nice to see you,’ she said, as Helen entered her office.
‘It’s nice to see you too, Emilia,’ her guest replied, closing the door behind her.
‘Coffee?’
‘No, thanks.’
‘Quite right,’ Emilia replied, ostentatiously opening up her laptop. ‘We’ve got a lot to get through. We’re too late for tonight’s edition but if you give me everything you’ve got now, we can sort out a killer spread for tomorrow. If you’ll pardon the pun.’
Helen regarded her quizzically, then leaned forward and pushed the laptop back down, closing it.
‘We won’t be needing that.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I haven’t come here to give you any news. Just a warning.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I don’t know how you know what you think you know about me and to be honest I don’t really care. What I do care about is a journalist at a respectable paper attempting to blackmail a serving police officer.’
Emilia eyeballed her – the temperature in the small room had just dropped considerably.
‘So I’m here to give you a clear and simple message. Print what the hell you like about me but if you ever attempt to bribe, blackmail or intimidate me again, I will see you in prison for it, understand?’
Emilia eyeballed Helen, before responding:
‘Well, that’s your choice, Helen, but don’t say I didn’t give you fair warning.’
‘Do what you need to,’ Helen replied tersely. ‘But be ready for the consequences.’
She turned to leave, but as she got to the doorway, she paused.
‘We sink or swim together on this one, Emilia. So ask yourself how much you hate me. And how much you value your liberty.’
Emilia watched her go – anger and adrenalin pulsing through her. Should she break her or back down? Either way Emilia was about to make the biggest call of her life.
62
Tony slammed the car door shut behind him and slumped down into the driver’s seat. How could he have messed up so badly? And what was he going to say to Helen?
This was his big chance to be back on the front line again, t
o prove that he’d still got it – and he had completely ballsed it up. He could try and contact Melissa again, but what was the point? Now she knew he was a cop, it was game over. The only thing he could do was confess all to Helen as soon as possible and start formulating a new plan. Some of the other girls must have seen Angel. It was inconceivable that she could ghost in and out of these flesh pots undetected. What he had to do –
He jumped as the passenger door opened. He had been so caught up in his own little world he hadn’t heard anyone coming. He turned to confront the intruder … and was surprised to see Melissa climbing into the passenger seat. She didn’t look at him, simply saying:
‘Drive.’
They drove in silence for a full ten minutes, before Melissa indicated an alleyway adjacent to a derelict restaurant. It was quiet down here, not a soul around to disturb them. As he turned to look at her, Tony was surprised to see that she was shaking.
‘If I tell you what you want to know, I’ll need money. Lots of money.’
‘Not a problem,’ Tony replied. He’d figured out on the way over that it could only have been the prospect of financial gain that induced her into his car.
‘Five grand up front. More to follow.’
‘Agreed.’
‘And I’ll need somewhere to stay. Somewhere she can’t find me.’
‘We can offer you a safe house and round-the-clock protection,’ Tony replied without hesitation.
‘Round the clock – you promise?’
‘I promise.’
‘Shake on it,’ Melissa demanded and Tony obliged.
Melissa let out a deep sigh – she looked exhausted by the evening’s events. Then without looking up at Tony she whispered:
‘The girl you’re looking for is Lyra. Angel’s name is Lyra Campbell.’
63
Cold. Freezing, freezing cold.
Simon Booker’s eyes crept open, briefly flickering closed once more as the harsh light of the naked bulb assaulted them. His head was so foggy, he was so confused. What the hell had happened to hi—
There she was, watching him. Angel. With the iron bar. Now it slowly came back to him, jagging sharply as the memories flashed through his mind.
Pop Goes the Weasel: DI Helen Grace 2 (Dci Helen Grace 2) Page 15
