Broken Dolls

by Sarah Flint

  ‘And that’s for Caz.’

  ‘Please stop,’ his victim sobbed. ‘You’re hurting me.’

  Razor stared down unsympathetically at his prey. It was surprising how easy it was to reduce a grown man to tears.

  The blood was flowing freely now and it was difficult to see where the last incision would start from, but Razor was an expert. He’d left his initial etched proudly on the face of countless other challengers over the years. He bent forward towards The Punter, the razor hovering over his bloody cheek.

  ‘And this one’s for me…’

  His concentration was shattered by the dazzle of headlights and the sound of vehicles screeching across the gravel towards him. He looked up, temporarily blinded as blue lights rotated across the garage tops and torchlight was shone directly into his eyes. He could hear shouting and registered the sight of people, some in uniforms running towards him.

  ‘Police,’ a voice shouted. ‘Put your weapon down and let him go.’

  But he wasn’t finished yet. Placing the razor quickly down on his prey’s cheek, he looked up, daring them to come any further.

  As the full force of CS spray reacted with the insides of his eyes and lungs, he scored downwards in a last flourish, rounding the last stroke off across the man’s cheek, before releasing his grip on both blades and falling backwards. Tears, mucous and phlegm poured from his eyes and nose as the chemical filled all his facial orifices. He brought his hands up to rub his burning eyes, coughing and retching as he struggled to breathe through the mist of CS. In one movement his arms were forced behind his back, handcuffs clamped around his wrists, and he felt himself lifted to his feet and his head held high into the night air. Through the shouting and confusion, the same female voice instructed him not to panic and to breathe normally. It was a voice he recognised well and for once he did what it said. As the crescendo of noise died away, he stared in the direction of the voice, the tears in his eyes making his vision blurred and distorted.

  ‘I’m arresting you for GBH,’ DC Charlie Stafford said evenly.

  He started to focus and, as he did so, the way in which their roles were reversed was not lost on him. She was now the one with the upper hand.

  ‘You should be fuckin’ nicking him, not me,’ Razor shouted, looking round blindly for the Punter.

  Paramedics and police were swarming all around Caz and The Punter. He watched as Caz was lifted on to a stretcher and carried to the rear of an ambulance. She was still motionless and he wondered carelessly whether he had left it too late before intervening.

  Another paramedic was tending to The Punter, placing dressings over his cheek and neck. As he watched, he saw them walk the bastard to another ambulance. A sudden flash of anger surged through his body as he watched the door of the ambulance close behind him. He lunged forward struggling violently, until his legs were kicked from under him and his face pushed down into the dirt and grit of the alleyway. He strained his head up, spitting out the filth and watched as two burly policemen climbed up into the ambulance behind The Punter.

  ‘Don’t let him get away,’ he shouted, almost half-heartedly now as the anger drained away. Suddenly he didn’t really care anymore. He’d given his adversary something to remember him by and he’d avenged Redz in the eyes of his community. That was all that really mattered. Hopefully now the cops would do their job.

  As he was led to the police van, he turned to DC Stafford, speaking almost nonchalantly. ‘He was the bastard who killed Redz… and he just nearly did the same to Caz.’

  Chapter 52

  Charlie slammed the cage door of the van and held her sleeve to her face. Her nose and eyes were also streaming from the effects of the CS spray but it had all been worthwhile when she’d realised who had borne the brunt of it.

  ‘You OK?’ Paul was at her side, pulling some man-size tissues from his pocket. He offered them to her. ‘I think you might need these,’ he said, chuckling, as Naz joined them.

  ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, Paul.’ She took a couple, blowing her nose gratefully. ‘You were right when you said something would come up.’

  She and the rest of the team had been just about to leave Lambeth HQ for the night when they’d heard the call over Hunter’s radio. Disturbance. Female screaming. It was only when the name of the witness was given out that Charlie’s ears had really pricked up though. Maria Simpson was the caller and the location was Redz’ alleyway. It couldn’t be happening again.

  Grabbing her kit belt, Charlie had jumped into one of the cars about to leave the yard and got an express ride straight to the scene, arriving in the first wave of emergency vehicles. Paul, Hunter, Naz and Sabira had arrived soon afterwards, but she’d been so caught up dealing with Razor and the initial action, she’d not had time to find out the full circumstances. All she knew was that Caz was one of the casualties and a large Asian male was the other, and both looked to have sustained serious injuries.

  The two ambulances loaded with their casualties were just about to leave, with Sabira accompanying Caz and a couple of hefty police minders with the Asian man. Both were to be taken to King’s College Hospital, although they were to be kept separate. Hunter had ensured that neither casualty was to be released until they knew exactly what had been alleged. Neither was in any state to do so in any case.

  ‘How is Caz?’ Charlie wiped at her eyes as the ambulances headed off, with blue lights flashing. ‘She was still unconscious when I last saw her and she didn’t look good.’

  Paul pursed his lips together, frowning. ‘Well, she did regain consciousness before they left, but she’s been beaten up pretty badly and wasn’t able to talk.’

  ‘I doubt Sab will be able to speak with her for a good few hours,’ Naz added.

  ‘Do we know yet what’s happened?’ Charlie stuffed the tissues into her pocket and blinked. ‘Razor said that the guy he’d assaulted was the man who’d killed Redz.’

  ‘He would say that,’ Hunter joined them.

  ‘He also claimed that the same guy had tried to kill Caz just now,’ she added.

  ‘Well it certainly looks like one of them did. But it’ll remain to be seen if Caz says the same. Or the other guy for that matter. At the moment we only have Razor’s side of the story.’

  ‘There’s some interesting information coming in about Razor.’ Paul held his radio to his ear and repeated the latest information. ‘Uniform found a Fiesta at the end of the alleyway. The engine was still warm and it was insecure and appeared to have been hotwired, so they did a check on it. Needless to say, it was reported stolen a few days ago, from just around the corner from the Poets Estate where Razor lives. Even more interestingly it also has a linked report on it from just under an hour ago.’

  ‘Go on,’ Charlie caught the smile on Paul’s lips. ‘Don’t keep us hanging.’

  ‘Well, the report states that a female by the name of Charlene Philips, Caz, had been abducted by a known male, assaulted and bundled into the vehicle in Tooting Bec Common. The male is her pimp and goes by the name Razor.’

  ‘Does it say who the informant is?’ Charlie knew that Anna Christophe’s office was situated by the common. She checked her watch. Surely she wouldn’t be there at that time of night.

  Paul called up the control room to enquire and she listened, intrigued, as the reply confirmed the caller as the psychologist. Quickly she dialled Anna’s number, listening as her friend repeated exactly what had happened.

  ‘Anna claims that Caz called her earlier, desperate because Razor had threatened to kill her. She opened the office to give her refuge, but Razor found them. He smashed his way in, threatened her and assaulted Caz. Caz was in a right state. She really believed that Razor would kill her.’

  ‘Well maybe that’s the answer to our question then,’ Hunter looked hard at Charlie. ‘But it’s very convenient to have someone else there to blame.’

  *

  ‘What’s this man been arrested for?’

  ‘He’s been arrested for GBH
with intent, Sarge,’ Charlie replied, as she and Paul walked Razor into the custody office, still covered in blood and dirt from the alleyway. ‘We caught him in the act of cutting his victim’s face with a razor blade. He may also have other weapons secreted in his clothing.’

  ‘In that case, take him straight to a cell and get him searched thoroughly. And bag up all his clothing. He can have one of our suits to wear.’

  Paul nodded and selected a white overall and a pair of black plimsolls. There was nothing like a plain white tight-fitting onesie to bring a scowling prisoner down a peg or two.

  While they were gone, Charlie took the opportunity to phone Maria Simpson. With any luck she could shed some light on who had attacked whom. The old lady was glad she had called but wasn’t able to assist. At the first scream, she had dialled the operator and had still been on the line as the first blue lights flashed their entrance. She had seen nothing.

  As Charlie put her phone back in her pocket, Paul re-emerged with Razor in tow. She stifled a laugh at the sight of their suspect in his regulation overall, still attempting to walk with a swagger as he neared them. His large frame filled it completely, each of the legs and sleeves being slightly too short, giving him a rather comedic appearance.

  ‘We found this hidden down the front of his pants, Sarge,’ Paul placed a property bag on the counter containing a small package. ‘I counted approximately ten rocks of what I suspect to be crack cocaine in the package. He’s been further arrested for possession of a controlled drug with intent to supply.’

  Charlie brightened. The pendulum seemed to be swinging right back in their favour. The amount was probably not enough to elicit a charge of possession with intent to supply, rather than straight possession, but it was sufficient to allow them to search his address again. She sought the relevant authority and gathered a small group of officers together in readiness.

  It would be good to have one last chance to look round his flat.

  *

  Charlie knew the way to Razor’s flat like the back of her hand. She knew her way around the interior of the flat equally well. As they entered, she immediately noticed it was in better order than at their previous visit when the body of Dutch had lain dead on the settee. A number of scented candles were spread around the lounge and main bedroom and their fragrances still hung in the air, masking its normal dank stench.

  She, Hunter and several uniformed officers would be conducting the search and for Charlie it was imperative they were as thorough as possible. This might be the last opportunity they’d have to get Razor put away, at least for something. She instructed the others to shout immediately if they found anything at all of interest. She would be searching the lounge.

  She pulled on her latex gloves and decided where to start, working her way methodically round, uncovering and upending every item of furniture and examining every drawer and box thoroughly. Her gut was telling her there was something here. She just had to find it.

  After half an hour’s meticulous searching, she came to the final item of furniture. No shouts had been forthcoming from the other rooms and Charlie was beginning to acknowledge, with a slight sense of disappointment, that it might all have been a waste of time after all.

  She opened the door to the wall unit, lifting it as it swung drunkenly on its only hinge. Several old envelopes and forgotten bills fell out on to the floor, freed from within a pile of paperwork. An old carrier bag was lying on a shelf, its handles folded around itself. Its weight surprised her as she lifted it carefully to one side. Flicking her torch on, she aimed the light down inside the bag, before staring uncomprehendingly at its contents.

  As her brain processed what her eyes were seeing, her hands began to shake. She called out to Hunter, who joined her within seconds, staring down wordlessly at where she was pointing. Pulling out his radio, he barked out some instructions to the control room, before turning back to her.

  ‘Great job, Charlie,’ he rubbed his hands together and grinned. ‘We’ve got the bastard at last.’

  Chapter 53

  Caz lay back on the hospital trolley and stared up at the ceiling. All around was noise and clamour but she felt at peace. She watched as the nurses came and went, checking temperatures, blood pressures, smiling and whispering words of encouragement. She watched as doctors frowned and gave orders, their pens scratching diagnoses and instructions across each patient’s chart.

  Caz knew she was lucky to be alive.

  Her whole body hurt. A neck support kept her head from moving and every part of her body throbbed painfully. Dark, mottled bruising covered much of her limbs and face.

  She thought back over the events of the night, her mind replaying the betrayal and fear, the escape and the capture, the fight and the surrender. Now, as her fingers gently brushed the swelling on her cheek, she knew without doubt that everything would turn out all right in the end.

  She heard the sound of hushed voices outside her cubicle and then the curtain was pulled to one side and a nurse peered in.

  ‘You’ve got a friend to see you,’ she said as Anna’s anxious face appeared over her shoulder.

  ‘Thank God you’re still alive,’ her friend exclaimed, taking a step forward and squinting towards her. ‘I thought we’d lost you. Can I come in?’

  Caz tried to smile but her mouth was dry, her lips chafed, and the neck support kept her from nodding. She lifted her hand and waved.

  Anna stepped forward, followed by the nurse and a policewoman, Sabira, who had accompanied her in the ambulance. She’d brought with her Caz’s belongings – her handbag and holdall – left behind in the office just hours before.

  The curtain was repositioned and Anna came closer, putting the bags down on the bed next to her and bending to examine her injuries. ‘Ow,’ she exclaimed. ‘Looks like you came close.’

  ‘She did.’ The nurse lifted a chart up from the end of the bed and indicated in Anna’s direction.

  ‘She’s my friend,’ Caz croaked painfully. ‘You can talk to her.’

  The nurse nodded her understanding and read from the notes. ‘In that case, you’ll be pleased to know that even though you’ve got injuries over almost every inch of your body, there doesn’t appear to be any that are too serious. You should make a full recovery. X-rays do show several small fractures around the orbital and nasal bones, and the soft tissue around your neck and throat is badly swollen and has internal bruising.’ She scanned the chart again before turning to Anna. ‘She’s also been given painkillers and some diazepam to help her rest and to assist with any withdrawal symptoms and she’ll be monitored and kept sedated until we can complete further tests.’ The nurse hooked the chart back on to the end of the bed and took a step back. ‘All in all, she has been very lucky.’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it quite that way. But I know what you mean. You’ll put her back together physically.’ Anna frowned and bent down next to Caz, wetting her lips with a small sponge. ‘And I’ll be here for you if you need help to be put back together mentally.’

  Caz smiled, searching Anna’s face as she spoke. She saw the tears glistening at the corners of her therapist’s eyes and could sense her sincerity. It was a strange feeling, knowing that this comparative stranger was prepared to help her, but Anna had proved her trustworthiness.

  ‘Could I have a quick word with Caz?’ Anna was asking now.

  Caz watched as the others trooped out, leaving her alone with her confidante.

  ‘Caz,’ Anna sat down next to her. ‘Thank you for talking to me about your mother. Now I have a secret of my own to explain. I was about to tell you when Razor arrived and dragged you away.’ She swallowed hard. ‘I wasn’t sure I’d get another chance, but thank God I have. Anyway, a friend of mine at the council has a small studio flat that has become available. She’s kept it for you. It’s ready now. You just have to sign the paperwork and it’s yours.’

  Caz couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Not only had Anna helped her break free from Razor, she w
as now providing the means to make it permanent.

  ‘But, it’s only yours if you’re prepared to work for it?’ Anna sounded a note of caution. ‘You’ll have to stay away from Razor and all those people who are destructive influences in your life, the other dealers and even your friends. I can also help you get a place in rehab, but you’ll have to make a fresh start. You can’t go back. Do you understand what I’m asking of you? If you revert to your present lifestyle, you’ll lose the flat.’

  Caz looked at Anna as she spoke. Anna was strong and would be there to support her, unlike all the others who were weak and had let her down.

  For a few seconds her life flashed before her; the twisted pleasure of her stepfather Tommy as he touched her young body, the abandonment as her mother closed her eyes for the last time, the derision on Razor’s face as he screwed Ayeisha in full view and the knowledge that The Punter sitting beside her in his car was the same madman who’d attacked Redz. More than anything though, she remembered Razor standing at The Punter’s shoulder, watching as the life was squeezed from her. The sight of his cold, remote eyes staring down at her from outside the car window would be etched forever in her psyche.

  The decision came easily, the memories shaping her need to take back control. Not only did she want Razor out of her life. She wanted him sentenced to the rest of his in prison… and to understand on whose terms he was sent. And now she had the means. Things were turning out even better than she’d envisaged.

  ‘I’ll do whatever is needed,’ she promised.

  Anna left then, promising to collect her as soon as she was fit to be discharged.

  Caz was left alone in the cubicle and she knew now exactly what had to be done. She rummaged in her handbag and found Goldilocks, stroking her gently over her face and noticing immediately the stench of the crack house. The precious memento of her mother looked even dirtier and more soiled in the sterility of the hospital.

  Hoisting herself up painfully, she swung her legs round and eased herself slowly upright. Her head swam and she steadied herself against the trolley. Her whole body felt leaden, but gradually she managed to shuffle out of her cubicle and head towards the toilet and washroom. The policewoman was seated directly outside but nodded her understanding, and no nurses stopped her to ask unnecessary questions.