by Sarah Flint
‘OK. Are you keeping yourself safe then?’
Caz knew what she really meant. Are you using condoms? Are you using clean needles? Are you watching the amount of gear you take? Anna rarely gave an opinion, but on those subjects she was frequently lectured and it still irritated her.
‘Yeah, I know what I’m doin’, ’right?’
‘So how are you then?’ Anna repeated the question for a third time, gathering her pen and pad and sitting down next to her.
Caz didn’t answer immediately, instead letting her thoughts run back over the events of the previous night. The question lingered in the air.
‘Redz has been murdered,’ she blurted out suddenly. ‘I heard it from Mand, one of the other girls, a few hours after it happened. I can’t fuckin’ believe it. She was only goin’ to pull a few tricks. Then we was both of us goin’ to head down the Hill to a party.’
Anna stayed quiet while Caz continued.
‘We was out together, Redz and me, by her normal spot. Razor was hangin’ out round the corner lookin’ out for us, but after ’bout an hour he disappeared to buy some more gear. Anyway, I got a punter quick. I stung ’im for a hundred quid, which meant I was done for the night. I got ’im to drop me off near our flat an’ downed half a bottle of Smirnoff while I waited for Redz.
‘When she didn’t come back I went out to find ’er, but Mand said she’d bin picked up by some huge Asian punter in a long black leather coat. He’s bin around a few times, givin’ some of the other girls trouble. Not paying up and getting nasty. They didn’t think too much of it until the feds started arrivin’, and then an ambulance. Mand said she went to see what was ’appening and reckoned she saw Redz bein’ worked on, an’ blood everywhere.’
Caz shifted on the couch, straightening her T-shirt and pulling her skirt down a little further over her pasty legs.
‘Anyway right, I didn’t feel like goin’ on to the party. I sort of just knew she was dead. I’ve been wanderin’ round all night since. Scored some gear with a dealer from round the Hatridge Estate. He said word on the street was that one of Razor’s girls had bin topped. After hearin’ that, I knew for definite it must be Redz, so I came ’ere. I’ve just been hangin’ around on the common ’til you arrived. So, any chance of a brew?’ She licked her dry lips. ‘I’m parched.’
Anna nodded and moved across to the corner of the room, switching the kettle on.
‘Milk and three sugars, please,’ Caz called over, staring at Anna’s short, dark hair brushed neatly on her jacket collar. Her shrink was always so smart and elegant. Although Caz knew her to be in her forties, she had the slim, petite figure of a twenty-year-old and a voice that exuded calmness, rarely changing in pitch or volume. Today she was wearing one of her usual, casually stylish well-tailored trouser suits with a soft woollen cashmere jumper.
Caz was in awe of her, even now unable to understand quite why Anna had put up with her initial behaviour and why she still entertained her. She felt herself drawn to Anna’s kind brown eyes and soft features, detecting in her a genuine desire to help. Not since she was a young child looking up into her mother’s eyes had she felt this acceptance.
The water was reaching boiling point, a steady jet of steam coursing from the spout of the kettle.
‘Here you are,’ Anna smiled a minute later, placing a mug on the edge of the table next to her, before going back to collect her own. ‘One mug of very hot, sweet tea.’
Caz glanced over towards the drink, her eyes roaming across the laptop and desk diary towards the two large mahogany framed portraits in pride of place at the rear of the desk. Anna smiled out from the larger photo, standing adjacent to a handsome fair-haired man, one of his arms slung loosely around her shoulders. In the crook of his other arm lay a tiny, sleeping baby dressed in blue, with a shock of straight, dark, unruly hair. A little girl Caz estimated at about three-years-old clung round Anna’s neck, her head thrown back in laughter. Her long wavy hair hung down her back and a pink bow clung perilously on the front, keeping the blonde curls from encroaching on her smiling face.
The other picture showed the same two children, but a couple of years later. The boy was wearing blue shorts and a blue and white striped, short-sleeved shirt and was sitting on a large cream cushion. His hair, still dark and excitable, was combed down with a side parting, although large strands were still stubbornly doing as they pleased. The girl was leaning towards him, her arm protectively around his shoulder. Her blonde hair, longer now, was tied loosely behind her head and draped freely over her shoulder. Ringlets fell, like a waterfall, cascading down each side of her pretty face into a maelstrom of pink and white frills, as her dress swept downwards to the soft cushioning beneath her. Both looked up in the direction of the camera, their faces a mixture of awe and delight, their innocence shining out from the stark frame.
Caz tore her gaze away from the portraits, feeling her mind drifting back towards her own childhood, the familiar stirrings of envy and regret starting to bubble to the surface. Dark shadows began to encircle her, all of a sudden bringing images of death, fast and hard. Visions of her dead mother exploded all around, the memories dragging her down into a bottomless abyss. She felt her arms flailing; trying to grasp at the slippery sides of the chasm, but she continued to fall.
‘Caz, Caz.’ She heard a voice calling her from afar. Subconsciously, she reached into her jacket, pulling out the ragdoll, stroking it across her cheeks, allowing the familiar odours and textures of the old material to calm her. ‘Caz, you’re all right,’ the voice confirmed. ‘You’re safe. Wake up.’
She opened her eyes and looked up into Anna’s worried face. Anna was holding her arm, shaking her gently, and she suddenly felt the need to be held; held tightly and never released. She allowed a tear to escape from the corner of her eye and wiped it away with the grubby doll. Perhaps now was the time to start telling Anna some of the secrets of her childhood, secrets that she’d kept locked away her whole life. Anna had waited so patiently, never pushing but always there. Perhaps Redz’ death had affected her more than she cared to admit.
‘I was thinkin’ ’bout my mum. I really miss her.’ She wiped her nose on her sleeve and sniffed. ‘If she hadn’t gone, everything’d be all right. I wouldn’t be walkin’ the streets on my own, or dealin’ with dirty perverts, or feelin’ like this.’
‘Do you want to tell me about your mum?’ Anna asked quietly.
‘She was the best mum in the world.’ Caz started to cry properly. ‘I loved her to bits. There was nothin’ she wouldn’t get for us or do for me and my brothers. Then she changed, got on the booze an’ started bringin’ back men, boyfriends. They got ’er on weed, sittin’ around smokin’ joints all day. I wanted it to be like it was. Just me, my mum and my brothers.’
She paused, taking a sip of the hot, sweet tea.
‘What happened to your mum?’
‘She died. That’s what fuckin’ happened.’ Caz snapped back to the present. She’d said enough, more in fact than she’d ever said before. She swallowed down the remains of the tea quickly and placed the scrawny doll back in her bag, swinging her legs round and rising shakily. ‘Now, if I don’t get goin’ I’ll be fuckin’ dead too. Razor’ll kill me.’
Anna stood up too and reached over, gently touching Caz on the hand. ‘Come any time you want. You don’t need to worry about making an appointment. Please come though.’
‘OK, I’ll try. See ya,’ she said, pulling her jacket tight and nodding towards Anna. She would come again. Perhaps she’d even begin to tell Anna more, but as that notion ran through her head, her thoughts returned to Razor. He might sometimes treat her roughly. He might sometimes cause her pain, but he was still her man, her protector. Redz was dead and there was only her and Dutch left. He would need her now, more than ever.
She descended the stairs and opened the door, stepping out into the cold winter morning. The sun was shining through the trees opposite, throwing down abstract shapes that swayed and danced ac
ross the pavement. She let the final thought run through her mind, repeating itself again and again as the seed began to grow and suddenly she felt positive.
Razor needed her. Razor needed her.
*
Anna watched Caz as the brightness of the sun enveloped her and carried her away on a wave of optimism. She felt elated. Today she had witnessed something of a breakthrough. Never before had the young prostitute spoken of her love for her mother; only anger, hatred and hostility towards her time in care and a general mistrust of life.
Something about Redz’ death had clearly prompted her first ever outpouring of grief. She wondered what specifically the trigger had been. Redz was as close to being a sister as was possible. Perhaps losing her was like losing one of her own siblings. Caz certainly seemed more exposed today. Anna had never seen her sucking her thumb or clutching a doll in any of their previous sessions and this glimpse of Caz’s vulnerability affected her deeply. Her heart went out to the prostitute, having to deal with life, with no mother to guide her through the ups and downs.
Her thoughts returned to her own daughter. They still made time to chat, to share shopping trips and to watch their favourite TV programmes together. Caz had known a mother’s love, but in her case only for a short time before it seemed to have been cruelly snatched away. Maybe this was worse than never having known it at all.
Slowly Anna turned and shut the door, climbing the stairs back up to her office. The wood panelling on the walls made the hallway seem austere, and the certificates showcasing her qualifications, more formal. As she stared at the proof of her achievements, the realisation dawned that helping Caz could throw her professional reputation into jeopardy. This time she needed to keep her head and not allow her heart to dictate her actions. She’d made the mistake once before, becoming too emotionally involved with a clinically depressed boy of fifteen… and the guilt was as raw now as when they’d cut his body down from the tree. Only time had helped her rationalise the decisions she’d made, but the experience had hardened her resolve to never again get so personally involved with any of her clients… and up until now she’d succeeded.
Caz was different though and the opportunity to right the wrongs of her own life, through the young prostitute, was a possibility too compelling to miss.
Anna ran the thought through her head as she sauntered across to the window, focussing on the figure in the distance. Caz was nearly out of sight, but as she watched, she saw a small dark car pull up next to her. Caz leant towards the passenger window, before climbing into the rear and pulling the door shut. Anna squinted towards the vehicle, anxious as to whether the driver was a friend or some anonymous stranger chancing his luck by the side of the common. She imagined her own daughter sliding in beside an unfamiliar male, the mere thought filling her with pure, unadulterated terror.
Closing her eyes, she visualised Redz’ last sights, smells and sensations as the blows rained down, quickly reopening them as her mind was fleetingly drawn back into the sheer horror of what she herself had experienced. Caz’s plight was leading her into dangerous waters, of that there was no doubt, but she knew deep down that she couldn’t stand idly by as her client had her life stolen from her. Just as she’d been saved, so Anna instinctively knew it would become her mission to rescue Caz. The young woman needed one person who wouldn’t let her down, one constant in her life… and if that meant she had to cross the line to free Caz from her present hellish life, so be it.
Chapter 15
The frontage of the brothel was gloomy, with the curtains still drawn and no lights on inside when Charlie and the team parked up. Hunter dispatched Paul to the rear of the premises with a couple of uniformed officers to check whether it was secure, before deciding whether to go in hard, or with a knock at the door. They were looking for people, rather than property, so there wasn’t the need to get into the premises quite so speedily. The back door was unlocked.
Charlie walked round with the warrant to join Paul, feeling immediately despondent. Now she was here, she had the distinct impression they were too late. Her despondency was well founded as she pushed through the door and moved from room to room. The decor and some of the abandoned paraphernalia suggested that the house had been used for sexual activities, but every area bore signs of an exit hurriedly executed, devoid of people and personal items, with wardrobes doors hanging ajar and drawers left open and half empty. Her shoes sounded loud against the bare wooden floors as she stared at the stripped mattresses and the mishmash of remaining clothing sacrificed to the emergency move.
She climbed the stairs until finally reaching a bedroom at the top of the house. The air smelt of disinfectant here and the space was clearer than the others, all the bedding removed and little left of the occupant’s personal effects. The surfaces too appeared to have been wiped down. A number of random items of clothing and correspondence were laid out across the centre of a large bed. She went across to the window and pulled the curtains open, looking out across the rooftops of the houses in the adjacent road.
Hunter entered, walking breathlessly across to join her.
‘Well, it looks like Angie’s source was right and that the place was being used as a brothel,’ he commented, looking out in the same direction. ‘I’ve sent Naz and Sabira round to do house-to-house enquiries to see if we can find out when the occupants were last seen.’
‘It doesn’t really matter when,’ Charlie shook her head. ‘We’ve missed them anyway. What we do need to know is why they’ve disappeared… and what made them leave in such a hurry.’
Idly, Charlie moved across and leant over the property on the bed, conscious that they needed to try and identify the occupant of each room. Perhaps there would be something to name this particular occupier. She pulled at several magazines, uncovering a large wet patch on the mattress. The stench of bleach wafted into the air, but around the edges of the patch was a dark red stain. She bent down further to closer examine the mark, suddenly excited. It was clear that attempts had been made to eradicate it from the material.
‘Look at this, guv. It’s blood and someone’s tried to get rid of it. Do you think our forensic guys will be able to get enough of a sample from this to extract DNA? Someone was trying to hide it for a reason. Perhaps it’s linked to why they disappeared?’
‘And why they chose to leave in the dead of the night,’ Naz pushed the door open and joined them. ‘The man next door heard the sound of a van being driven in and out a few times during the night; the last time being at just gone 5 a.m. when he also heard voices. He was going to have a word, but then decided it was too cold for him to get out of bed, so we haven’t any details of the van. That was the last he heard of them. It must have been when they finally left.’
Sabira came in half way through and nodded. ‘I heard pretty much the same from another neighbour. The two guys that we knew about were here most of the time, Russians or Eastern Europeans, she thinks. She says they were always very pleasant, but kept themselves to themselves. Occasionally there were disturbances, mostly at night; and if there were, the two guys would always be most apologetic afterwards. The neighbour didn’t really know what was going on inside and didn’t really care as long as it didn’t affect her. She did say she would recognise both the men though and she also said that they regularly changed their vehicles, usually driving rental vans. She heard some noise last night but pretty much just ignored it.’
Hunter pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped it across his brow. ‘So we’d have missed them even if we hadn’t been called to the other crime scene.’
The thought had already crossed Charlie’s mind, but as she stared down at the bloodstain, her brain was still racing. Something was telling her that this house was connected to the abandoned baby, although there was nothing concrete, as such, to confirm this suspicion. But the baby’s body had been found two days before, and Dr Finch had estimated she had been dumped several days before that… so why the panic now? What had happened to make the
m vacate the house so suddenly just a few hours before?
Chapter 16
Razor had almost given up searching for Caz when he remembered her shrink, but as he watched her solitary figure walking towards him he didn’t know whether to be relieved or angry. Not for the first time, he found himself irritated by her insistence on speaking to this stuck-up bitch.
The passenger seat was covered in shit, so he told Caz to get in the back, watching as she slumped against the rear, her clothes dishevelled and her make-up smeared across her face. She looked as if she’d been on the street all night.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ He revved the car angrily.
‘I was just comin’ to find you actually,’ Caz sniffed. ‘But I’m glad you’re here. Mand told me what ’appened to Redz and it freaked me out.’
‘What’ve you heard then?’
Caz repeated the same story as she’d told Anna about The Punter, adding that the money she’d earned earlier in the evening was safely stashed at the flat. He grunted with relief at this information. He still owed DK for the gear he’d got off him earlier.
‘Was it definitely the same punter as before?’ He didn’t like the sound of the guy. Rumours had been circulating about this particular bloke over the last few months, but until this morning he’d not really taken too much notice. Now, it was very much his business. ‘What do you know ’bout him?’
‘Yeah, Mand said it was the same punter as before… and I ain’t heard nuffin’ more than you already know. Big bloke, Asian-looking, wears lots of jewellery and a long black leather coat. ’E even looks evil, apparently. Hope the cops get him quick ’cause I sure as hell don’t want to meet him on a dark night.’
‘Well I want to meet him and when I do, I’ll fuckin’ kill him,’ Razor growled. ‘He won’t be worried about no cops when I get hold of him. He’ll be crying like a baby for their help.’
He drove straight to his estate, still brooding on what he would do to The Punter when he found him. The bastard would wish he’d never set foot on Redz’ patch. As he pulled into their garages, Razor’s attention shifted to his other problem.
