The Disciple: a gripping psychological mystery (The Sister Veronica Mysteries Book 2)

by Sarah Sheridan

  2

  Rivers of tears gushed silently down Mona Adkins’ cheeks as the door slammed in her face. Immediately in darkness, she heard a key turn in the lock, and two bolts sliding into place. The tight gag across her mouth made screaming impossible, and anyway, she suspected such an act would bring immediate punishment from her captor.

  As her eyes adjusted to the gloom she looked around, grateful for the dull sliver of daylight oozing under the door. She was sitting in a small cupboard. Locks of lank auburn hair straggled over her shoulders, blood from her recent beating sticking the ends together. Her hands – bound tightly behind her – now pressed down hard on rough wooden floorboards. An old-style boiler rumbled next to her, and she tilted herself the other way, wanting to move as far as possible from the incessant clamour. But being sandwiched between the boiler padding and the cupboard wall meant there was not much space to lean. The dry, stale smell was unpleasant. The rope round her skinny ankles bit into her skin, she couldn’t shift her legs without causing them to burn with pain. Craning her head back, she saw a wooden shelf above her. She was boxed in. Trapped. The tears gushing down her cheeks felt as hot as her airless prison.

  Of course she couldn’t escape her past. How stupid of her to think she could. But she’d been so close; it had taken years to finally get away from her hometown and the people who’d caused the problems, who made her feel repulsed if a memory of them so much as entered her brain. Well, most of them anyway. For a long while she’d felt hopeful, and it had been an intoxicating feeling. Okay, so working as a prostitute wasn’t everyone’s dream job and it certainly wasn’t hers, but it was infinitely better than the situation she’d come from. And it was helping to get her back on her feet. She’d even managed to save some money; she wanted the best for her baby girl. She was planning on giving her a very different childhood to the one she’d had. Baby Asha deserved the world, she was so beautiful and innocent, so unspoilt by the dark forces of the universe. There would just be pure love between them, with absolutely no coercion, control or abuse. She would keep saving, maybe get a new job, and they’d get their own place together, somewhere with good schools and green places to explore.

  Pain ripped through Mona’s insides as thoughts of her baby flooded her mind. She could practically smell her, that delicious, powdery infant scent. Being away from her made her head ache, her heart hurt and her stomach nauseous. Who knew motherly love could be so powerful? But where was baby Asha now? Was she safe, somewhere in London? He better be looking after her. Mona ground her teeth. He better make sure she comes to no harm. She’d left Asha with him for one day, ONE DAY for fuck’s sake, and look what happened. But it wasn’t his fault she’d been captured, it was hers, she’d been stupid, she should have seen it coming. He’s a good man, she reassured herself. But he’s weak. He needs to make the right decisions now; the baby’s safety depends on it. Would he suspect what had happened to her? And if he did, would he do something to help her? Then a new thought hit her hard. Shit. He was in danger himself, of course he was. He’d probably be the next to go.

  Letting out a guttural groan, with helpless rage suddenly displacing fear, Mona lifted her feet up, then slammed them down hard, smashing her head back intentionally against the cupboard wall. She could feel the rope burn away patches of skin around her ankles and her head ached, but she did it again, then again. She deserved the pain, she needed the pain, it made her feel alive and real. THUMP. CRASH. Was she being foolish? Yes. Did she care? No. Why had she walked into this trap so easily? After all her hard work. For God’s sake, why had she not learnt her lesson by now?

  Fast, loud footsteps belted up the stairs. The bolts were slid back. The key turned in the lock and the door opened with a bang. Her captor towered above her, waving a studded belt in her face.

  ‘Mona? You’re being a bit too noisy, darling. Let’s see if we can quiet you down a bit, shall we?’ The words were spat out, loud and furious. ‘You know I told you to stay quiet. But I should have remembered; you were never any good at following rules, were you?’

  The belt came whipping towards her face. In a flash Mona saw that it didn’t contain studs, it was riddled with nails…

  3

  ‘Yeah?’ The thin, pale girl sighed. She couldn’t be a day over twenty, Sister Veronica thought, as her heart throbbed with compassion for the sorry-looking creature in front of her. With dark bags under her eyes, unmistakeable needle marks in her arms and a threadbare dressing gown covering her emaciated frame, the girl was the picture of downtrodden exhaustion. At least she wasn’t hostile though. Just disinterested with a strangely dead look in her eyes. Sister Veronica had the sudden urge to scoop her up, take her back to the convent and give her a hearty meal. But didn’t it say in Galations that we all have to bear our own load, or something to that effect? Perhaps it was best not to interfere. Hopefully the universe had greater intentions for the poor child at some point in the not-too-distant future. Not that she put much stock in that sort of thing anymore. Sister Veronica tutted under her breath as she fought off recent memories of being crushingly disillusioned by the criminal actions of some clergy.

  ‘I’m so sorry to disturb you, my dear, but I was wondering if you could help me. I’m looking for a young lady named Crystal?’ Sister Veronica smiled. ‘I’m hoping she might be able to help me find a missing person.’

  The young lady stared at her.

  ‘Yeah?’ she said. ‘I’m Crystal. Who’s missing?’

  ‘Ah, that is fantastic news, very pleased to meet you. I’m Sister Veronica from the Convent of the Christian Heart. I’m trying to trace the mother of this baby.’ She smiled at the girl as she patted the hood of the pram. ‘The baby’s mother’s not in any trouble or anything, we just need to know she’s healthy and safe.’ Sister Veronica fumbled in her pocket, retrieving a folded photocopy of Mona’s face, then thrust it towards the girl. ‘If you wouldn’t mind taking a look. Is there any chance you might know her?’

  The girl turned her hollow eyes towards the picture and stared for a few seconds.

  ‘Yeah, I know her. That’s Mona.’

  ‘Yes. You’re absolutely right, she’s Mona Adkins. DNA testing has confirmed she’s the mother of this little baby, who was left on our convent steps a little while ago. We desperately need to make contact with her, for her and the baby’s sake. The police–’

  The girl immediately withdrew inside the building at the mere mention of the word. She glanced up and down the road, with fear in her eyes. Stupid woman, Sister Veronica reprimanded herself. Don’t scare her off, show her you are both on the same side.

  ‘Er, the police haven’t actually been very helpful,’ she went on, changing tack fast. ‘So at the convent we’ve launched our own little investigation into finding Mona. Nothing to do with the police at all. They haven’t told us anything so we’re not telling them anything.’ She leant forward conspiratorially. ‘I bet we’ll find her before they do, with the fantastic help we’ve been getting from Mona’s friends.’

  The girl’s bony shoulders relaxed a bit. She hesitated.

  ‘Mona’s all right. She’s helped me out a bit since I started working round here. Nice girl.’ Her voice was flat. ‘Different from most of them. Haven’t seen her for about a month though. I went to see the baby just after she was born. Cute kid.’

  Sister Veronica smiled.

  ‘Ah yes, she is absolutely gorgeous. Although as you can see she prefers sleeping during the day rather than at night.’ Sister Veronica rolled her eyes in mock despair. ‘She’ll have all of us at the convent run ragged with tiredness in no time, I expect.’

  The girl shrugged. Her glassy stare drooped down towards the pram.

  ‘Mona’s other friends have also told me they haven’t seen her for a while,’ Sister Veronica went on. ‘I’ve been asking around for a few days now. One of them said she kept herself to herself after the baby was born. That she didn’t work much after that. Does that sound familiar?’

 
‘Yeah,’ the girl said. ‘She started living with that bloke, didn’t she?’

  Sister Veronica nodded eagerly. So the girl did know something about Mona. This was sounding hopeful.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Someone mentioned a man. Did you, er, know him too?’

  ‘Nah.’ The girl sighed. ‘Never met him. He wasn’t there when I went to see the baby. Just heard. You know how talk goes around.’

  ‘That I do. You should hear what some of the Sisters discuss at dinner time in the convent. So much prattling I have to close my eyes sometimes. Er, could you possibly give me Mona’s address? No one else has been able to remember it so far.’ Or was willing to break the code of honour among working ladies of the night, she thought. They protect each other, and that’s very good. But it’s not helping me much in this quest.

  The girl met Sister Veronica’s gaze for a moment.

  ‘I reckon you’re all right,’ she said, a few seconds later, nodding her head slightly. ‘Mona lives in the top flat over the pub in Dolly Street. But if no one’s seen her for a while she’s probably moved on. Girls move in and out around here all the time.’

  ‘Thank you so very much.’ Sister Veronica beamed. ‘You really have been a huge help. And I do wish you the very best for your future. If you ever need any help do come and call for me at the convent.’

  The girl shot her an odd look, then turned, closing the door behind her.

  ‘Right then, Hope,’ Sister Veronica said briskly to the still slumbering child as she swung the pram round. ‘Next stop, Dolly Street.’

  It didn’t take long to find. Sister Veronica said a silent prayer to the universe for having equipped her with local knowledge; one thing about living in the heart of Soho for so many years meant she was easily able to navigate around, and she was thankful for that, it made life much more convenient. She brought the pram to a halt next to the Sailor’s Inn, the only pub in Dolly Street, and stared up at the façade of the old Victorian three-storey building. So Mona lives in the top apartment, she mused, looking for the front door and finding it to the right of the pub’s front.

  The top apartment was certainly a rather shabby affair when contrasted with the one below it, whose windows were adorned with well-maintained window boxes. Mona’s flat sported a row of dirty windows flanked by frames of peeling paint, and one of the panes was cracked from side to side. What a mixed bag of people we are in London, Sister Veronica thought as she studied the two doorbells next to the powder-blue door, wondering which one to press. All so very different, and all living side by side.

  As she decided whether to press Flat A or Flat B’s bell, the door swung open and a tall, blond-haired man paused on his way out, his young face registering surprise as he came face to face with the old lady on his doorstep.

  ‘Well, hello! Can I help you?’ he said, shifting a sports bag on to his shoulder.

  ‘Yes, I rather think you might be able to.’ Sister Veronica smiled, stepping back. ‘I’m looking for this girl, and was told she might live here?’

  The man inspected the photo of Mona hastily thrust towards him. His face clouded over.

  ‘Yes, that’s Mona. She lives in the top flat. We’re in the middle one.’ He gestured towards the window boxes.

  Sister Veronica nodded.

  ‘I’m Sister Veronica, I live in the Convent of the Christian Heart in Soho Square,’ she said as she folded the photo up again. ‘We’re trying to trace Mona, as she’s the mother of this little baby here, who was left on the convent doorsteps not long ago.’

  The man’s handsome, tanned face turned a shade paler and his mouth fell open.

  ‘She left her baby with you?’ He bent down and looked into the pram. ‘I can’t believe it, I really can’t. Mona had poor taste in men but she loved that baby. I never thought she’d give her up.’ He shook his head. ‘I really am gobsmacked to hear that.’

  Sister Veronica made sympathetic noises and inclined her head slightly, watching with interest as a second, shorter – completely bald – man appeared at the doorway.

  ‘Sorry, I couldn’t help overhearing.’ The newcomer raised his eyebrows as he rested a hand on the tall man’s back. ‘No wonder it’s been so quiet round here. We haven’t heard any crying for at least three weeks, have we, Joel? We were just saying that the other day, weren’t we?’

  ‘Yes,’ the tall man – Joel – said, turning to him. ‘Honestly, I can’t believe Mona would dump her baby on a doorstep, can you? She was totally in love with her. She’d actually started to look happy – for once in her life – after she had her, didn’t she?’

  ‘So she didn’t seem happy before that?’ Sister Veronica asked.

  ‘God no,’ the shorter man said, resting his other hand on his hip. ‘Well, I don’t think you could be happy living the life Mona did. She was on the game, and had endless bad relationships. The amount of times we’ve had to call the police when there was a row going on upstairs.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s been quite quiet since Lance came to live with her, and to be fair the baby didn’t make too much noise. Just every now and again. But recently we’ve actually been able to sleep through the night for once, haven’t we?’ The two men smiled at each other.

  ‘Lance? Is that her new boyfriend?’ Sister Veronica said. ‘Is he the father of her baby? There’s no father’s name registered on the birth certificate, you see, so I was just wondering…’

  ‘Who knows with Mona,’ Joel said with a sigh. ‘She keeps herself to herself, but from what I can see everything’s always so complicated in her life. We’ve had bailiffs round asking after her, police breaking into her flat, angry men banging on the door, honestly you couldn’t make it up. It’s a bit of a nightmare to be honest. She’s a lost soul, so fragile, like she’d break if you touched her. Not just physically, emotionally too. God knows how she does the job she does, she must be tougher than she looks.’

  ‘The thing is,’ Sister Veronica said slowly, thinking hard, ‘we’re not at all sure it was Mona who left the baby at the convent. She seems to have gone missing, none of the girls round here have seen her for weeks. The police are looking for her too.’ She watched them, gauging their reaction.

  ‘Really?’ the shorter man breathed. ‘Oh my God. That must be why they broke in to her apartment last week. They were up there for ages, all we could hear was furniture being moved around, like they were looking for something. No one was in there. I just presumed Lance must be a dealer. Sorry, Sister, but you get a lot of them round here, and Mona’s been out with a few before.’

  ‘Oh I know what goes on round here, don’t worry.’ Sister Veronica grimaced. ‘Not much surprises me anymore.’

  ‘Yeah, we were convinced that Lance was dealing, weren’t we, Gavin?’ Joel turned to his partner, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. ‘Especially after that night when the strange man showed up and shouted up at their windows for ages.’

  ‘Oh?’ Sister Veronica’s ears pricked up. ‘What was the man saying?’

  ‘It was the weirdest thing,’ Joel said, shifting position. ‘It was about seven in the evening – I remember that because I’d just finished my shift at the Sailor’s and I was desperate for a shower–’

  ‘He comes back smelling like a brewery most nights.’ The smaller man winked. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d think he was up to something.’

  ‘And I couldn’t get to the front door because a man was blocking the way,’ Joel went on. ‘First I thought it was Lance, and that he must have got locked out. From the back it looked like him, the guy had the same chin, long golden hair, although it looked like it could do with a good wash. But when he started shouting, I knew it wasn’t.’

  ‘Why? What was the man saying?’

  ‘He just kept shouting, “Lance, I know you’re in there. Come and face me like a man”. When he turned round to look at me he had tears in his eyes,’ Joel said. ‘It was really odd.’

  ‘We just thought it was an emotional drug user.’ Gavin smiled. ‘Y
ou get all sorts round here.’

  ‘I was trying to get past him to get my key in the front door,’ Joel said. ‘I was tired and I just wanted to get home. Gavin was out that evening, weren’t you?’ He turned to his partner, who nodded. ‘So he was no use, I couldn’t call him to come down. The guy tried to get inside the front door with me as I pushed it open, and I got a bad feeling from him, so instead, I pushed him back and slammed the door, and went back to the pub. There was something not right about him, I didn’t want him in the building.’ He frowned.

  ‘Not right?’ Sister Veronica repeated.

  ‘No. His eyes looked kind of unhinged. Staring. I just thought he was high, or coming down off something,’ Joel said. ‘As I was walking to the pub door, he shouted up, “You’ve broken the promise, Lance. I trusted you. Why did you do it?” Then he started sobbing. I just thought it was more of the melodrama that surrounds Mona, so I had a few drinks in the Sailor’s and waited for Gavin to come home.’

  ‘This is interesting,’ Sister Veronica said. ‘Have you seen Lance or Mona since then?’

  ‘No,’ Gavin replied. ‘It’s been bliss. We just thought they’d left in the night to avoid whoever was looking for Lance. But I had no idea the baby was with you. That’s kind of sad, it makes me worry for Mona. We thought she and Lance might settle down, you know? Find some sort of peace together.’

  ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ Sister Veronica said, turning the pram. ‘You’ve both been so very helpful. Really. You’ve given me so much useful information.’