I felt for the gate latch, pushed through and ran down the path to the front door. It was one of the typical old council house front doors, plain wood with a four-panel of bubble glass about eighteen inches square at head height. There was a brass knocker on the letter box and a bell-press mounted on the left hand door frame, but they were never going to come into play. As I neared the door another smack sounded through the window above me, followed by another yelp of pain, louder this time. I didn’t slow but simply leaped in the air with my right foot leading and aiming a good three foot beyond the door. It gave easily, bursting open and crashing back on its hinges against the right hand wall. Council door locks were never any good.
The stairs were right in front of me, coats and jackets hanging on hooks attached to the wall on my right. As I entered into the hall I was aware of the sort of musty-stale smell I had come across many times and had begun to notice during my last couple of visits to Dad's. I took the stairs three at a time. As I reached the top and turned left round the newel post I caught a glimpse of Elvis’s bollock-naked figure just before he slammed shut the front bedroom door. Cries and shouts came from within. The door was hardly a barrier but I didn’t kick it like the front door just in case she was somewhere close. I grabbed the handle. Someone was leaning against it. I put my shoulder to it but kept hold of the handle and burst it open with enough force to send Elvis sprawling across the floor where he banged up against the radiator under the front window.
As he landed, I saw the terror in his face, then it changed as he lifted his head and saw me. ‘D-Danny? What the fuck-?’
Ignoring him, I looked right to where the double bed faced the window, hoping to God I wasn’t going to see something that would stay with me the rest of my life. I did, but not in any way I was even half-expecting.
Gloria Pearce was lying face down on the bed in a spread-eagled position. She was naked. Black ties ran from her wrists and ankles to the corners of the bed. What looked like one of her stockings was tied between her lips as a gag. Her backside was raised up in the air by the several pillows under her stomach and legs. She was under the bedroom light so I had no trouble spotting the rose-red glow on both her arse-cheeks. As I came through into the room, she looked round over her shoulder and up at me. At first the look of terror mirrored Elvis’s, but as she recognised me it changed to surprise, then something else. We stared at each other, my mouth hanging open. She didn’t pull at the bonds tying her to the bed and she wasn’t exactly shouting or screaming for help, just staring up at me. I turned to where Elvis was picking himself up, nursing the bang on the back of his head and a sore shoulder. He was looking at me with a mix of fear and bemusement. Then his mouth opened and his face changed, like he’d just worked something out.
‘Awe, fuck. You and Gloria? Honest to God, Danny. If I’d known, I’d never have-’
He stopped talking as I showed him my palm. I needed to think. My head was spinning, all my expectations upended. I looked down at Gloria again. She still wasn’t struggling, but just lying there, like she was waiting for something to happen.
I have an image in my brain of what I must have looked like as I stood there in the middle of the room that night, looking from Gloria to Elvis and back again, trying to make sense of the scene I'd burst in on. Neither of them were saying anything now, both waiting for me to make a move. A muffled murmur from the bed drew me back there. Gloria was looking back at me over her shoulder and wearing an expression I couldn't read, until I noticed the way she was moving her bum from side to side and realised she was grinding herself into the cushions between her legs. That was when I saw the black leather paddle – like a square table-tennis bat – lying on the bed between her legs. Elvis must have dropped it there when he jumped across to the bedroom door to see what the earthquake below was and saw some madman racing up the stairs. Finally, I twigged.
I’ve never been into SM or any of that sort of stuff. That’s not to say I wouldn’t oblige a woman if she wanted me to ‘push the boundaries’ as the saying goes, so long as they were within reason. But I'm not a saint and I’m as partial as the next man to a bit of porn so long as it doesn’t involve kids or animals. That night, I think it took me so long to realise what was going on because, (a), you don’t imagine people like Elvis and Gloria having much interest in anything after a night out in the club beyond either a quick shag in the back of a car or a blow-job round the side of the club, and (b) a spanking session is the last thing you expect to come across in a former council house bedroom at four am in the morning, especially one as dismal as Elvis’s. It’s fair to say that my impressions of Gloria changed that night.
As it all sank in, I checked out Elvis again. His hands were up in front of him, in a defensive posture. He was shaking. He’s going to piss himself any moment, I thought.
‘W-what you, g-going to d-do, Danny.’
I checked out Gloria again. She was okay, the fear all gone now, replaced by a glazed, dreamy expression. She mumbled something through the gag. I couldn’t hear it clearly but it sounded something like, ‘Yeahhh, whatcha gonna do, Danny?'
Jesus Christ.
I turned to Elvis. Held my hands up in a 'peace' gesture. 'Sorry, Elvis. I made a mistake.' I turned to the door.
'WHAT?' I heard Elvis call. 'A MISTAKE? What do you mean a mistake? It's fuckin' four o'clock in the fuckin' morning.'
But I was already at the top of the stairs. The only thing on my mind right then was getting out of the place and thinking it all through again. Vicki was still missing. There was no way I was going to even try to explain to Elvis - or Gloria - how or why I'd come to interrupt their little bondage session. I left the house to the sound of Elvis’s strident complaints about me bursting into his house - 'AND WHAT ABOUT MY FUCKIN’ FRONT DOOR?' - and Gloria's muffled shrieks - possibly of disappointment.
As I got back into my truck and started it up I saw Elvis at his front door - still butt-naked and framed in the light from the hall. He was waving his arms about like he was upset about something. I pulled away and didn't look back. I stopped at the entrance to the estate, well out of sight of Elvis's house and pulled out my mobile. I rang Eric.
'Carver should be here in the next five minutes, he said. 'He says not to do anything until he gets here.'
'Too late,' I said.
'What have you done?' There was a note of doom in Eric's voice.
'I'll tell you later. But I was wrong. It wasn't Elvis.'
'You found him?'
'Yeah. I found him. Tell Carver I'm on my way back.'
CHAPTER 24
Before I returned to the club I stopped off at Vicki's flat, just in case. It was in darkness and there was no response to my urgent banging on the door, just as my intuition led me to expect. By the time I got back to Midnight's I was experiencing the nearest thing I'd ever had to a panic attack. My heart was pounding, my hands were wet on the steering wheel and I was gulping air like I couldn't get enough into my lungs. The only thing I could think about was Vicki. Where was she? What had happened to her?
Inside, I found that no one had left since I'd gone looking for Elvis. Frank, Tony and Eric were in the main office, going over things with Carver. Jess and a couple of CID were there as well. Jess was taking notes. Carver turned to me as I came in.
'What made you think it was Elvis?'
'Doesn't matter. I was wrong.'
He gave me a scrutinising stare. 'Definitely?'
'Definitely.'
'And you've checked her flat?'
I nodded. 'No sign of her. She wasn't there.'
'You're sure?'
'I'm sure.'
For several seconds Carver looked at me like he was weighing whether he needed to check what I was telling him. He must have decided he didn't. He turned to Jess and his detectives and started issuing instructions. They were to speak to all the staff who were still there and find out the exact time Vicki had left. He told Tony to come up with a full list of staff who'd been on duty that nig
ht. One of the DCs was to start contacting those that had already gone home. Carver turned to me. 'Your team know a lot of the punters.' I nodded. 'Get them to start ringing round. We're looking for anyone who saw her leave the club.'
'Right.' I was grateful that his brain was working because I doubted that I was capable of anything beyond shouting Vicki's name over and over. I met with my team in the staff room, gave them their instructions. As they took out their phones and began punching numbers, Chris said, 'Do we really think something's happened to her?'
Before I could do or say anything Eric grabbed him and steered him away, muttering something in his ear. The only words I could make out were, 'daft,' and, 'cunt..'
I left them to it and went to report back to Carver.
'Good,' he said, when I told him the guys were ringing round. I waited as he seemed to think about something. When he turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder I looked up in surprise. 'We're doing everything we can, Danny. It's good we're on it early. We'll find her.'
I didn't try to answer him. I'm not sure I could if I'd wanted to. I swallowed. I looked across at DS Jess, She was looking at me in a way I'd never seen before. I think they call it a 'pained expression.' I nodded.
The next couple of hours were among the worst I've ever experienced. There was nothing I could do but sit and wait as people made phone calls and took calls back. Each time a phone rang my heart leaped, only to sink back again when whoever took the call showed no sign of excitement or relief. Myself, I was in no shape to make calls so I gave out the numbers I had of people I thought might be worth contacting to others, Eric and Jess mainly. I had the impression they both knew what I was going through, though neither said anything.
Some time after five, as the phones began to fall silent, Jess pulled me to one side. 'We're going back to the nick. Jamie's called a six o'clock briefing to start a full-scale search operation. There's nothing more we can do here. I suggest you go home and try and get some sleep.'
I started at her. 'You must be fucking joking.' Her reply was a straight look and I realised. I'd never sworn in her presence before. 'Sorry.'
She gave a wan smile. 'Listen Danny, I can only imagine what you're going through, but I'm serious about you getting some sleep. We may need you later today and it would help if you're able to stay awake.'
'Need me? What for?'
'Your local knowledge. You know the area, the clubs, the punters.' She hesitated. 'You know her.'
I wasn't sure if she meant it, or was using it as an excuse to get me to go home. Whichever, there was enough sense left in my by-then exhausted brain to realise that if there was the slightest chance I could be of some use in helping to find her, then I needed to get some rest, even if it was only a couple of hours. 'Okay,' I said.
'Want me to drive you?'
It was then I realised that the last hour people had begun treating me like I was the parent of a missing child. Suddenly I was grateful for Jess's get-out. I needed to be away from there. I shook my head. 'I'm good.'
I had a last few words with Frank, Carver, my team and a couple of others, then left. As I walked out the door I was conscious of the silences and sad looks that followed my leaving. I'm not ashamed to say that as I drove home, I had to fight not to break into tears.
When I got home I went straight to the kitchen cupboard and pulled down an unopened bottle of JD. About to twist the cap off, I hesitated. Standing over the kitchen table, I held the bottle in front of me and looked at it, long and hard. Then I put it back in the cupboard, switched off the light and went to bed.
CHAPTER 25
Wednesday
I never expected to sleep, but I must have done because the next thing I knew my phone was buzzing on the bedside table next to my ear. I didn't look to see who it was but just snatched at it. 'YES?'
There was a short silence then a man's voice said, 'Danny?'
'Who's this?'
'It's Alan, Danny. Alan Brannigan?'
I remembered the name. A local lad, Alan was the son of a family we'd lived close to in Longford when my mum was still alive. He'd used to be a regular on student nights but had started to graduate up to weekends the last few months. Still half asleep I couldn't remember if I'd seen him in the club the night before.
'Wassup Alan?' Any other time I'd have asked how he'd got my number. Right now it didn't matter.
'A mate of mine's just rung me. He said something about that right-fit-piece who works in Midnight’s being missing. He says you're looking for her.'
'Vicki. Her name's Vicki. She's the VIP Hostess.'
'That's the one.'
'So why are you ringing Alan?' I checked the clock on my phone. It read 09:17.
'Well, it’s just that.. I don't know whether it's relevant or not but...'
'Just tell me.' Firmer this time.
'Well me and some of my mates... We was coming past the club last night in a taxi. We was on our way back from a party in Widnes.' He stopped.
'And?'
'Well I'm not a hundred percent certain it was her, but I think I saw her, just by the car park at the back of Midnight’s.'
'What time are we talking about?'
'It must have been around one. Maybe a little later.'
Close enough. 'What makes you think it was her?'
'Are you joking? She's fit as a butcher's dog. I turned round when I saw her. She's always worth a look.'
I bit back the words that were about to come. 'What was she doing when you saw her?'
'Well as we come down Arpley Street from Widnes, there was this car. It was stopped on Arpley Street right by the car park, pointing back towards Widnes. As we came towards them she was leaning down, like she was talking to the driver through the passenger window.' He stopped again, like he thought he needed permission to continue.
'What happened then?'
'Well as we passed, I saw the driver get out and start to walk round the front of the car towards her.'
'Then what?'
'Well that was when I thought I recognised her. I was in the back seat so I turned round to see what was going off.' He stopped again.
JESUS. 'And?'
'And that's when I saw him hit her.'
It was like an electric shock, right to my heart. Already racing harder than the night before, it seemed to stop for a moment before carrying on, even harder. 'HIT her?'
'Across the face. Like a right good slap.'
I started sweating. 'What happened then?'
'Dunno. Just after I saw him hit her, we turned into Bridge Foot and we lost them.'
'So what did you do?'
'Do? Nuffin'. We carried on home.'
'You didn't think to turn round and go back?' I was conscious my voice was getting louder.
'Go back? What for?'
'Jesus Christ, Alan. You've just seen a girl being attacked and you carry on home? Haven't you heard that women are being murdered on their way home from clubs in town right now?'
'Hey, it was nothing like that, Danny. It wasn't like he was some fuckin' murderer or anything. It was more like a couple having a barnie. You know, your normal boyfriend-girlfriend stuff, that's all.'
'Why d'you say that?'
'The way she was talking to him in the car. I just got the impression she knew him.'
'I repeat, why?'
'I dunno. Just the way she... I just got the impression she knew him, that's all.'
By now my mind was whirring. I rubbed my hand roughly over my face, trying to bring myself fully awake so I could work out what to ask, what to do next. Then the obvious came to me. 'The driver?'
'What about him?'
'Did you get a good look at him?'
'Not really. It was her we was all looking at.'
FUCKING- 'So you can't say if you knew him or had seen him before?'
'Nah. Like I says, we weren't really looking at him.'
I waited some more, still thinking.
'What about the car? Did you see the car
?'
'Yeah, like I said, it was parked on Arpley Street, next to the car park.'
'THE MAKE, YOU PRICK. I mean, did you clock the make? The colour?'
'Alright Danny, take it easy. Fuck me, I've rung to try and help. Don't bite my fucking head off.'
I took a breath. 'Sorry Alan. It's been a long night. The make, the colour. Could you say what-'
'Oh yeah, we saw the car. We all said, like he was obviously some rich twat. He'd have to be to pull a bird like her, wouldn't he?'
I waited, but only a second. 'So? What sort of car was it?'
'One of those right smart types of Beemer.'
As he said it, I swear my pounding heart almost stopped again. Everything seemed to slow down.
'A beemer? What colour?'
'Black, I think. Maybe dark blue.'
At that moment my grip on my phone tightened so much I was surprised it didn't snap in two.
I swallowed and took a deep breath.
'A Beemer,' I repeated. 'A smart one you said. Possibly black. Is that right?'
'That's it. If I had to guess I'd say it was a six series.'
I froze.
A black BMW. Six series.
Vincent.
CHAPTER 26
It goes without saying that I know now what I should have done at that point. I should have rung Carver and told him what Alan told me. I should have told him what I knew about Vicki and Vincent then left him to sort it out. It also goes without saying that in view of what happened, I wish to God I had. I can give lots of reasons why I didn't.
While you could fit what I know about police procedure on the back of a postage stamp, one thing I do know is that the police response to a situation isn't always as snappy as people like to think it will be. Warrants, permissions, authorities, the need for clarity. I've known situations where they've all meant that by the time the police get their act together, the bird, as the saying goes, has flown. My particular experience in this area was the night I got twitchy about some seriously-scary dealing going on in the club and rang them to report it. This was in the early days, not long after I took over the contract and before I knew better. I made the call just after midnight. By the time a van full of police and a token representative DC from the drug squad turned up, it was close to three. The dealers had long gone and the buyers had dispersed into the town. 'We needed to check it all out and get a squad together,' was the DC's excuse. I've heard similar stories since.
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