Faceless (49 page)

helpless of the three of them.

Maisie answered the door with a smile. She looked quizzically at

Marie before saying gaily, ‘Can I help you?’

Marie pushed her into the flat none too gently and answered her

sharply.

‘I hope so, love. Maisie, isn’t it?’

Maisie looked like a child but though Marie was shocked at her

youth she made sure it did not show. Patrick had always liked kids,

it was in his nature.

Maisie was nothing if not streetwise. She felt the animosity

coming from the woman before her and decided to listen first

before she tried to fight her way out of anything. She wondered if

this was one of Patrick’s real women, a proper girlfriend who had

found out about her.

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lounge and Marie followed her. They

surveyed each other warily. Finally Marie smiled.

‘Relax, love. I’m not here for a tear up. I’m Tiffany’s mother.’

The words had the desired effect. She saw the girl swallow noisily

and sit down. She was wearing a tiny leather skirt and her narrow

little face was thickly covered in make-up. This somehow made her

look much younger and Maisie obviously knew that. It was all part

of the act.

Her tiny breasts were held in place by a white crop top. On her

feet were impossibly high black leather stilettos. Her hair was

backcombed to within an inch of its life. She was obviously

expecting a punter and this depressed Marie even more. It was like

looking at her own daughter, like looking at herself. Pools … they

were all such fools.

‘I heard about her, I really am sorry.’

Marie laughed.

‘I’m sure you are! Now, I understand you and Pat are close. So

who did he give her to? I need to know exactly who he gave her to.

And before you answer, remember, if you hold out on me I’ll kill

you, sweetie, without a second’s thought. You must have heard

about me from people? I’m a known face with the girls old and new.

A legend, you could say. And I am more than capable of killing

again. So think on that before you answer me. This is personal,

love.’

Maisie was hard, she knew she was hard. She’d had to be to get as

far as she had. But she instinctively knew that this woman was

capable of all she said and that she would extinguish her without a

second thought.

‘Can I get you a drink only I think we need to talk properly,

don’t you?’

As they sipped coffee together Maisie put her case.

‘I don’t take drugs and I don’t drink, right? I am here purely for

the dough. I am young and I am streetwise. I saw my own mother

used and abused by men, and though I sleep with them for money it

is purely a means to an end. Patrick Connor means fuck all to me

and if you want to turn off his lights then I will do nothing to stop

you. What he did to Tiffany was wrong, and I am as guilty as he is in

some ways. I get girls on the game, they trust me and I connect with

them. But Patrick is too far off the wall even for me. I was going to

tuck him up when the time was right anyway. But I digress, as they

say. I’ll tell you all you need to know on one condition.’

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Marie was shocked at the way the girl was talking but hid her

feelings and answered her.

‘What’s that?’

‘I take what he’s got, and you leave me alone.’

Marie was silent for a few moments.

‘Fair enough. I give you my word,’ she said finally.

Maisie smiled and her whole face changed. This was a real smile,

not a professional one. Marie found herself smiling back.

‘There are three men he uses who are into the gang thing. I don’t

know them but I have seen the videos. Tiffany’s is over there.’

She pointed to the wall unit and Marie felt her breath catch as she

realised she would have to watch it. Needed to watch it to get her

anger up for what she intended to do next.

‘He was watching it all night. Tell the pathologist to look for

GHB in her system - they dosed her up on it at the finish because

she was screaming so much. He knew she would die, he told me

that. He wanted her to know she was in the rubbish bin. He also

wanted her found quickly so he could hear about her death. He is

one weird fuck, but I expect you already know that.

‘He used her death to keep all the other girls in line, me included.

He also intends to blackmail the men, though they don’t know that

as yet. One is a high court judge, the other is in the GPS. So as you

can imagine they’re worth more than money to Patrick Connor.

They keep him on the street. He’s sure he’ll never get burned. So

there you are, a potted history of Tiffany’s death. He used her to

get to them and used them to get to her. One of the girls in the

other videos is only about thirteen. Even I balk at what they’ve been

doing to her. Fred West eat your heart out, eh?’

‘Do all the girls die?’

Maisie shook her head.

‘Wished they had, most of them. But no, only your Tiffany and

one other girl. A runaway from Bradford.’

Marie digested this information.

‘More coffee?’ Maisie offered.

She nodded.

‘Aren’t you expecting a punter?’

Maisie shrugged.

‘He can wait. If I don’t answer the door he can’t come in, can

he?’

She went out to the kitchen.

‘Can I slip in a drop of hard for you? Brandy? Scotch?’

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Marie followed her out and watched her every movement. She

didn’t trust the girl that much. Not yet anyway.

Maisie read her mind and grinned.

‘I tell you something, mate, I wish you’d been my mum.’

Marie shook her head.

‘No, you don’t. Believe me, that’s the last thing you would have

wanted.’

‘At least you’re trying to make amends now. My mum doesn’t

give a flying fuck about me or me sisters.’

‘Will you watch the video with me, Maisie?’

She smiled sadly.

“Course I will. But I warn you, it’s not pleasant viewing.’

Marie held back the tears with difficulty.

‘I didn’t think it would be.’

Maisie put a slim arm around her shoulders and hugged her

gently

‘I ain’t never having kids, I know that much.’

Marie answered her seriously, ‘Much longer in this game and the

choice will be made for you, darling. Remember that. You’ll end up

like me or my daughter. Bear that in mind.’

Maisie didn’t answer her but it was a sobering thought.

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Chapter Twenty-Four

Mikey was at Patrick’s flat. It had taken a five hundred bar and

a good few shouted fucks to get past the security guy. He was

obviously scared out of his life of Patrick Connor and Mikey was

reluctantly impressed by his adversary’s ability to keep his security

debt. He had always admired tight security and loyalty, even if that

loyalty was born of fear. If you kept your own house in order you

had nothing to worry about. You could relax and let life pass you by

without the constant fear of either a capture or a takeover.

At least, that was how it should work out anyway. But the security

guy had soon been had over with threats and a few quid. Still, in

fairness, he was a straight guy, not a worker as such, so Mikey still

felt the man had acquitted himself well. He knew his goons looked

what they were and the bloke must have realised at some point they

were serious trouble.

He looked around the luxurious Docklands flat with interest. It

was the usual naff place. Fitted kitchen with barely enough space to

swing the proverbial cat but good solid units. A coffee maker that

was never used, all stainless steel and designer nameplates. A lone jar

of Nescafe told its own story. He was disappointed in a way. The

place was so predictable. Like something from a BBC2 drama

production.

He headed into the bedroom. It was all mirrored wardrobes and

Schreiber units once again. As he searched the place, putting any

money he found on the bed, he came across a video hoard and

smiled to himself as he looked through the titles. One was marked

in black felt pen: Judge.

He already had a good idea what they were for. He slipped one

into the machine in the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed to

watch it. He lit a cigarette and drew the smoke into his lungs

noisily. He could hear his blokes tearing the rest of the flat apart.

He knew they would do a good job, and pushing a pair of Calvin

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Kleins away from him with his foot Mikey settled down. It was a

comfortable bed, he would give the ponce that much. He would

bet it had seen some action as well.

The film came on.

He’d expected the usual bit of old bluey, namely some old geezer

giving a young bird one. He had already sussed the tapes were for

blackmail of some kind. But what he saw shocked Mikey to the

core.

This was not the usual old crap he had expected. Instead there

was a young black girl, still in her teens and terrified. This was

not acting, this was for real. The man, middle-aged with grey hair

and a large gut, was unaware he was being filmed. That much was

obvious because he kept going out of focus. He was definitely

unaware of what was going on, and judging by what he was

doing to the poor little mare, he would not have wanted any of it

filmed.

No one in their right mind would want anyone to see that, not

unless they were after a twenty-year stretch in a nonce home

anyway. This must have been what had happened to Marie’s

daughter. She was a slapper by all accounts, but even slappers were

entitled to have a say in what happened to them.

He thought of his own daughters, their trusting faces as he had

picked them up as little kids. Their innocent smiles when he’d said

something amusing. Rage built inside him. He could not believe

that anyone could peddle this shit with a clear conscience. The

world had gone mad as far as he was concerned.

He ground the cigarette out on to the cream-coloured carpet and

immediately lit another. He was mesmerised by the figures on the

screen, unable to believe that anyone could get their rocks off by

causing so much pain and suffering. The girl was bleeding profusely

now, her face a mask of terror as she tried unsuccessfully to escape

her attacker. She was losing consciousness rapidly and the man was

still at her. He watched in morbid fascination as the figures on the

screen went through their grisly ritual.

Of all the things Mikey had ever seen or heard of, of all the things

he had done and been accused of doing, nothing had prepared him

for the feelings this film engendered in him. It was fucking

unbelievable what some people wanted to do, and the fact that

someone like Connor made their sick fantasies possible just made

Mikey want the man dead more than ever. It was a righteous

crusade as far as he was concerned. Even if the filth knocked on his

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peep at this lot and Mikey would be the recipient of a

ther large round of drinks, surely, rather than a capture of any

No man could look at this obscenity and not be moved.

Unless they were weirdoes like the geek he was watching.

The plight of the girl on the screen made him feel so helpless and

diseusted that he knew when he got his hands on Patrick Connor

the man was going to die. Painfully and begging for mercy, he was

going to die.

‘Jesus fucking Christ, Mikey!’

He turned to see Old Billy watching the screen in amazement.

‘What the fuck is all that about?’

‘That, mate, is Connor’s idea of a lucrative business.’

‘That old geezer is Judge Martin. The hanging judge of the

Bailey. Old ponce! Been up before him meself. Cunt he is, put away

Jimmy Lauder and Morrie Burns. And all the time he was a fucking

pervert, the dirty old cunt!’

The other men were watching now, brought in by the sound of

Billy’s voice. They all stared at the screen as the girl breathed her

last and the judge still kept at her.

Twenty minutes later they were on their way. They had over

twenty videos and nigh on sixteen grand in a black bin bag.

They all fell quiet as Mikey made sure his cattle prod was in

perfect working order.

Marie was waiting for Patrick outside the gym. It was early evening

and she was looking out for him as she sipped coffee in the cafe

opposite. As she watched the people walking by she marvelled at

how easy some people’s lives were. Though they didn’t realise that,

of course. Everyone’s troubles were their own. How many times

had she heard that old chestnut over the years?

She saw pretty girls with their boyfriends, saw the innocence of

their love and was sorry that her daughter had never experienced

any of this. Neither had she, come to that. Her whole life had been

nothing but a waste.

But she was going to take retribution for her daughter’s death,

she was determined on that. No one else’s child would have to

endure what her daughter had because of Patrick Connor.

Marie only wished she could remember what had happened the

last time she had killed. It would help her now to know what had