A Deadly Thaw (22 page)

The man pressed her against the wall, one hand pushing at her chest to hold her steady. With the other hand he lifted her skirt.
No
, thought Lena.
I don’t want this
. She wasn’t even drunk. The cider that she’d half drunk had left her feeling nothing more than relaxed while she had watched Kat dancing. Relaxed enough to feel the thrill of pleasure when the man had slid his arm around her and whispered in her ear. For five minutes they had stayed like that, swaying to the sound of the music coming through the walls.

‘Fancy a cigarette?’

Lena’s smile had been genuine. She’d picked up the habit over the summer holidays last year. While her parents worked, she and Kat had lounged around and read
Cosmopolitan
magazines, giving their own slant on the advice in the problem pages.

She had followed him out the back entrance, past a couple pressed up against a wall, their mouths devouring each other. After the rancid smell of the club, the outside smelt sharp and fresh. He lit cigarettes for them both and watched her as she smoked. ‘How old are you?’

‘Eighteen.’

He smirked at her. ‘Right.’

Emboldened by the sense of adulthood the cigarette gave her, she asked, ‘How old are you?’

He took a long drag of the cigarette and blew lustily into the air. ‘Twenty.’

For the first time, Lena felt the stab of fear. He was old. Not at school. What was she doing out here with him? She threw the half-smoked cigarette onto the ground. ‘I’d better be going in.’

He stubbed out his cigarette on the wall behind her and pushed her back against it. She felt his face descend onto hers and his tongue in her mouth. Repelled, she tried to push him away, but instead she felt his strength.

Connie was exhausted. It was gone seven, and, given the precious little sleep she’d had the previous night, she felt a lethargy that made her want to rest her head on the desk for an hour to summon what energy she could muster. But the investigation suddenly had gathered momentum, and, despite Sadler’s reticence, she could feel the energy pouring from him too. Palmer was ignoring her on the other side of the room. He seemed subdued by their boss’s exhortation not to look at the files. It would go against every conformist instinct he had.

She rang Rebecca Hardy, who clearly wasn’t happy being disturbed at home. Connie looked at her watch. She’d probably interrupted her putting the children to bed. All Rebecca could remember was that she had been taken to a lay-by for the assault. Connie couldn’t prompt her any more than this. There were strict rules about putting ideas into potential witnesses’ testimonies. Which meant she would need to find out more information through hard graft. Which was all right by her. She needed the distraction.

First of all, she wasn’t going to get in contact with the Women’s Institute. The vast majority of its members weren’t teenagers in the eighties, that was for sure. Most forty-somethings were bringing up kids who were nearly teenagers themselves. She saw them going in and out of the fitness centre in the converted mill on the way home from work. That was where she needed to speak to them. Not among the cakes and jams. ‘I’m off to the gym,’ she shouted at Palmer, who frowned across the office at her.

The building was quiet when Connie entered, but the illusion of inactivity was false. It was early evening, the busiest time for a gym, and the subdued noises coming from the various exercise rooms suggested unseen physical strain.

The boy at reception couldn’t seem to grasp what she wanted, couldn’t see beyond the ID she’d shown him. Connie wondered if he had a record. In the end, she asked for the manager and was directed to an office behind the reception desk.

The manager was around her age, with tattooed forearms that bulged out of his polo-shirt sleeves. He had a well-educated accent. ‘Can I help?’

She showed him her ID.

‘No trouble here, I hope.’ He had an easy manner. Confident.

‘I’ve got a problem I need to pick your brains about.’ She told him about needing to track down women in their mid-forties who drank in the Ups ’n’ Downs pub in the eighties.

‘That place was legendary. I had my first underage drink there too. About 1992 or 1993. It had closed by the late nineties though. I think it lost its licence.’

‘What was it like then?’

‘Awful. Full of young girls and boys. Gelled hair, acne and overpowering aftershave. I used to nick my dad’s. I must have smelt like a perfume factory.’

‘What brand was it?’

He grinned at her. ‘Davidoff.’

‘Not Brut 33 then?’

He looked her up and down. ‘That’s more your generation.’

Cheeky bugger
, she thought.

His face took on a serious expression as he picked up a sheet of paper. ‘We’ve a full evening of classes, as usual. Mid-forties, you say. You might want to try the spinning class.’

‘Spinning? Isn’t that a bit extreme for the over-forties? Aren’t you doing yoga by then?’

He grinned again at her. ‘Burns off a lot of fat but it is exhausting. You need to speak to the class before they start, not after. It’s Jill taking it today in about twenty minutes. I’ll give her the heads-up that you want to have a word first.’

‘You okay about me doing this?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not.’

A sea of faces looked at Connie as she entered the room. There was a mix of ages, from mid-twenties up to fifty-something, she estimated. However, at least ten to fifteen looked the age she was looking for. She took a deep breath.
Here goes
.

‘I’m sorry to interrupt your workout schedule. I’ll literally be five minutes unless someone can help me, and then I might need to take more of your time.’ She had their attention. ‘We’re investigating a crime that may have links to the late eighties, and, in particular, a pub, or nightclub you might have known it as, called Ups ’n’ Downs that was open then.’

There was a snort at the back of the room. ‘Meat market.’

‘I’m sorry?’ asked Connie, who had heard well enough.

‘It was a pick-up place. You went there to have a snog with someone who was as drunk as you. Dance around your handbag. That sort of thing.’

The woman folded her arms on her handlebars. They were clearly days she thought better finished.

‘Anyone else remember it?’

A woman near the front put up her hand. ‘I went a couple of times. It was a dire place. I could never decide what to drink. I used to settle for Malibu and pineapple. Now the smell of coconut makes me heave.’

Connie nodded. ‘Anyone else?’

A third woman shrugged. ‘I knew it existed, but I wasn’t allowed out late. So I never went.’

Okay. She pointed at the first two women. ‘Can I have a word with you both outside? I’m sorry to interrupt your exercise class, but it’s important.’

Both women went willingly. Given the forty minutes of spinning that they were about to endure, it wasn’t really surprising. She took them to the manager’s office, which he left as soon as she arrived.

‘As I said, Ups ’n’ Downs has come up in the course of an investigation, and I’m trying not only to get a sense of what the place was like, but also to see if any other crimes were committed of which we’re not currently aware.’

‘What other crimes?’ one of the women asked. She introduced herself as Karen. A tall, robust woman with solid muscles.

Connie shook her head. ‘I can’t tell you that. I need you to tell me about what you remember. First of all, I believe Ups ’n’ Downs had a reputation for allowing underage teenagers inside.’

Karen laughed. ‘I don’t think there was anyone over age. If you had valid ID, why would you go to a place like that?’

‘I’m not sure that’s right, you know.’ The second woman, Lizzie, looked doubtful. ‘I can remember older boys there too. And maybe girls. But certainly boys who were older than me.’

‘How old?’ asked Connie.

‘Late teens, I guess.’

‘Okay.’ Connie did some rapid thinking. ‘Karen, in the gym room just now, you told me that Ups ’n’ Downs was a “meat market”. Can you tell me a bit more about that?’

‘Well, it was a place you went to get picked up by boys. You know, a quick chat, have a snog and then tell all your mates about it the next day.’

‘Right. Just a snog?’

The women looked at each other. ‘We were young. Fifteen, sixteen. That’s all there was to it,’ said Lizzie.

Connie had to pick her words with care. ‘Did you ever hear anything about non-consensual relationships? I’m not talking about kissing either. Were there any rumours of incidents where something got out of hand?’

Karen was shaking her head. ‘I never heard of anything bad happening.’

‘I’m not so sure of that.’ The other woman picked at her gym trousers. ‘There was quite a predatory atmosphere in that place. Sometimes I’d keep my head down and hope that I didn’t catch anyone’s eye. Because once you did they’d be over to you like a shot.’

‘Predatory atmosphere. I can understand that. Do you have any specific details?’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘Nothing specific, but I’m glad that the licensing laws have got stricter. My daughter’s fourteen – she can’t get near a pub these days.’

‘Okay. I’m going to ask you outright. Do you think it’s possible that individual women could have been targeted for sexual assaults at that time?’

The women stared at her aghast. ‘Sexual assaults?’

‘Well, that’s what it is, isn’t it? If someone goes to a club with a specific intention of picking up a woman for sex, it’s targeted. It becomes sexual assault when it’s contrary to the wishes of the woman.’

Lizzie grimaced. ‘I never heard of anything, but, in that place, anything was possible.’

Joanne set the dinner in front of him and perched on the chair opposite. He looked at her in surprise. ‘Aren’t you eating anything?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not really hungry.’

He put down his fork. ‘I can’t sit here eating while you watch. Did you have something earlier?’

‘A little bit, I suppose. I couldn’t really eat.’

‘Why not?’

‘I’m worried about us.’

Palmer sighed and put the fork down again. ‘Let’s not have this conversation again. There’s nothing wrong. You know what I’m like in the middle of a case.’

He looked across the table at his wife of less than a year. She looked exactly the same as when they had met four years earlier. Long dark hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. But she looked like she’d lost weight. He reached across to hold her hand. ‘You’re not still worried about this baby business, are you? We haven’t been trying that long. You know what the doctor told you. We only need to come back if nothing happens after a year. It’s only been five months.’

‘Are you sure you want a baby?’

Oh God
, he thought. ‘We’ve talked about this. I want you to be happy. I’ll do anything for your happiness.’

Her eyes were on his plate. ‘My period’s late.’

‘How late?’

‘A week.’

‘A week?’ He gaped at her. ‘You’ve waited a week to tell me this? Haven’t you wanted to do a pregnancy test in that time?’

Her eyes were blank. ‘Oh, I did a test the first day my period didn’t come.’

‘And?’

‘It was positive. I’m having a baby. We’re having one.’

Palmer felt a warmth suffuse him, and he stood up, walked around to his wife and put his arms around her.

‘How was I supposed to know?’ Kat’s professionalism was fighting with the familial sense of outrage.

‘Mum guessed straight away. I was absolutely awful the next day. You won’t remember. You always had your head in the clouds. But I was so angry that I threw my bowl of cornflakes across the kitchen. Mum didn’t go to work that day. She pulled me aside and asked me what was wrong. So I told her.’

Kat felt sick. So their mother had known. No wonder she had been so acquiescent about Lena’s subsequent decisions. It was she who knew the reasons behind them. ‘What about Dad? Did he know too?’

Lena finally stubbed out her cigarette. ‘It was he who gave me the Luger. He’d got it from an old patient. Mum was wonderful when I told her. I asked her not to tell either you or Dad.’

‘But you said he gave you the gun.’

‘That was after.’

‘After what?’

‘After we called the police.’

‘You reported the attack?’

‘We tried to but the pair who came around . . . They were these two huge red-faced uniformed men. They were so dismissive. Mum was outraged, and they wanted to take me away to the police station in the car. It was awful. I was crying, and Mum got angrier and angrier.’

‘You’re joking?’

‘I’m not. It was terrible. So I shouted that I wasn’t going with them, and they left the house. Just like that.’

‘I don’t believe it.’

‘Mum drove me to the surgery and told Dad what happened. You remember what Dad was like.’

‘He would have been mortified.’

‘He went into his desk and gave me this gun. Wouldn’t show me how to use it or anything. I’m not sure he even knew himself. But, funnily enough, it did offer me some reassurance. I kept it upstairs afterwards. It’s why my door was always locked. Partly for safety but also because he told me not to show it to you.’

‘But why? Why keep it secret from me?’

Lena looked over at her with eyes shrouded with secrets. ‘We were trying to protect you. From the realities of what life was like out there. That man was an absolute bastard. He took from me what I valued most. My dignity. By trying to protect you, I know that I drove a wedge between us. I could never articulate what I was trying to say. So I just stopped trying. I just gave up, I suppose.’

Kat’s head spun with the hundreds of questions that were bubbling away. ‘But I can still help. It’s not too late.’

‘But it is too late, isn’t it? Me keeping silent didn’t stop what happened to you.’

Kat stared at her sister. ‘What happened to me? Lena! Nothing happened to me.’

Kat stumbled into the hall, anxious to get upstairs before she encountered either of her parents. The light was on in the living room, which meant that one of them was still up. Lena would be in her room as usual. She pulled off her scarf and used it to wipe the tears from her eyes and cheeks. The act of self-kindness rekindled the sobs that she had managed to quell in the street outside the house. She quickly mounted the stairs and, turning the corner, ran past Lena’s room, colliding with her sister as she came out of the bathroom.

‘Sorry.’ Lena made to push past her. The careless act elicited another sob from Kat, and she ran up the remaining stairs to her bedroom and threw herself on the bed.

The bastard
. She’d wasted four months flirting and doing an elaborate fan dance around Peter. She thought they were taking it easy. Gradually easing into each other. But he’d just been messing around, and tonight, there he was, in the pub with his arm around another girl. Thinner than her and blonde. Men were just so predictable.

She heard a noise behind her and twisted her head in surprise. Lena was in the doorway, half shadowed from the still-dark landing. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘What do you care?’ shouted Kat. ‘Leave me alone.’

Her sister didn’t move. Kat looked down at her purple patterned scarf crumpled into a ball in her hands. She used it to blow her nose noisily. ‘Men are bastards,’ said Kat.

Her sister came into the room. ‘What do you mean?’

‘They’re just shits, aren’t they? They take what they want and we’re left to pick up the pieces. I’m never going back to that pub again.’

‘What’s happened?’

‘Oh, leave me alone, Lena. What do you care?’

Her sister stared down at her for a moment, and a shadow passed between them. Kat shivered. Someone walking over her grave perhaps. In an instant it was gone. Along with her sister.