Hard Girls (4 page)

Janie was already settled into the life, and she knew deep down that she didn’t want a real relationship; the job she had chosen made sure of that. She would accept security over passion. She was too used to strange men climbing on top of her, using her for a given amount of time, and paying her for the privilege. She had her regulars, and she had her appointments. She also had her other life, with her sons, her mum, and her friends.

The only man she would want now was one who could offer her and her boys a good standard of living, and who would not make too many demands on her. A decent man with a few quid and a nice disposition. It wasn’t really that much to ask.

Janie Moore repaired her lipstick and waited for her next appointment. She was tired and irritable, but what could she do? Work was work, and she needed the money.

Kate was sipping her tea. She stared out of the window at the cold winter’s day. It was freezing. The frost was still glistening on the rooftops, and the wind was loud enough to be heard through the walls. The view from the police station was depressing - it was all cement buildings and car parks.

Every time she closed her eyes she saw the body of Danielle Crosby, saw the way she had been butchered. She could still see the terror etched in her young face. Even the coroner had been shocked by the severity of the attack, especially after death.

The coroner had been specific about the cause of death. It was the acid. The young woman had been drugged with Rohypnol and GHB then, when she had been unable to move, caustic soda had been poured down her throat, burning her, killing her. The bastard had set about his business, slicing, burning and raping her while she choked in agony, until, finally, Danielle Crosby was a bloody corpse. There was nothing left to remind anyone of the young woman she had been. All Kate saw was the devastation of her young body, the hate that had caused her death, and the reminder of how vicious human beings could be.

What a terrible way to die. How much fear had she endured before she had finally been released to death? It grieved Kate that she would have been happy to die just to escape her tormentor. It was tragic that a young woman had been cut down before she had even had a chance to really live.

Kate knew she was going to have to help Annie, that she would need her to take the brunt of the investigation because she was the seasoned detective and had experienced the bloody aftermath of a violent murderer. This wasn’t a spur of the moment killing caused by rage, by anger. Kate knew this was a calculated and cruel death, and she also knew that this was simply the start. Whoever had done this would want to do it again, and soon. They would have been planning this for a long time; they had decided on their victim, and then they had arranged it so that they had not just the
time
to carry out their plan, but also the
privacy
. They had even taken the girl’s mobile.

It was the staging of the body that bothered Kate, it was reminiscent of her first murder case all those years ago. George Markham, the Grantley Ripper. He had enjoyed the knowledge that whoever came across the bodies of his victims would never forget how each of them had been placed. That they’d never { display: block; font-size: 0.75rem; text-align: justify; text-indent: 1em; margin-left: 8em; margin-right: 2em; margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } .fmepiv19lthe had forget what they had seen, would never get the image from their minds. It was a form of humiliation against the dead person so, whoever the killer was, he had a grudge. It was this that told Kate that whoever had done this, they were going to do it again. He was already planning the next one, was already coming down from the initial high, needing the euphoria of feeling he had the power over life and death again. He needed to be noticed, and she knew the papers would make sure that he was granted that wish.

It was George Markham all over again.

Annie Carr was nervous, she knew that the press would be all over this murder, that it was gruesome enough to catch the attention of the dailies. She looked into her Chief Super’s face. Lionel Dart was not a handsome man by any stretch of the imagination. He was tall, skinny to the point of emaciation, and he stooped when he walked, making him look as if he was on the defensive. That was not the case, however. He was, in fact, a very aggressive man, given to resenting slights, real and imagined, and he was known for his petty-mindedness and his ability to hold a grudge. He was not a man who could be trusted, he’d serve up his own children to further his career. And now he was terrified of the furore that this death would create; it would bring with it too many questions and the spotlight would fall on Grantley Police Station.

‘Any idea how we are going to deal with this?’

Annie shrugged. ‘In what way? Do you mean the media or the finding of the culprit? Only Kate thinks that whoever did this is not going to retire gracefully, it’s not a one-off, and it’s going to get worse.’

She felt bad about using Kate in this way, but she knew it was the only way she would get any kind of sense from her boss. He was frightened of Kate and her reputation. Unlike him, Kate was a real police officer. She hadn’t wanted the career this man had craved, but she did have the experience and he couldn’t argue with that. Kate just wanted the facts, and Annie understood that, it was all she was interested in too. But her limited experience had taught her that the truth was often unwelcome. Especially where this man and his cronies were concerned. He didn’t respond, but then that was what she had expected.

‘By the way, the place had been tampered with before we arrived. So it’s going to be hard to get decent forensics.’

Her boss nodded, as if resigned to his fate.

Lucy Painter was as shocked as everyone else when she heard about the slaughter of Danielle. Though they didn’t know each other very well, they worked in the same business. Sometimes they’d even worked out of the same flat. Like most of the girls in the know, she too was wondering if she had inadvertently entertained the nutter who had killed their colleague.

It had suddenly become crystal clear just how dangerous their job actually was. It was a risky occupation and, deep inside, they all knew and accepted that. But, like your house burning down or finding out you had HIV, it was always something that happened to somebody else. None of them really believed they were in danger, after all, they weren’t on the pavement, were they? Because they worked out of nice flats and houses, and because they worked with other like-minded girls, they didn’t see themselves as prostitutes, let alone being in any kind of peril. They earned a good wedge for a start and they didn’t have to procure anyone; they had a good clientele thanks to the advertising. None of them had ever known life any different. They felt the sharpest knife in the drawer, ,9lthe had quite glamorous, that they were a cut above the usual brasses. It was a well-paid job, and it was a secret part of their lives. Danielle’s death was tragic and shocking but, in all honesty, they were more concerned about being exposed as Toms. If their occupations were to become public knowledge, they would be destroyed. Like the men who frequented their establishments, the girls concerned primarily didn’t want to be outed. They had no interest in the men’s private lives, their wives, children or work, and they expected the same respect in return. They were a commodity, nothing more and nothing less. They provided a service, and that service was not something they dwelled on. They wanted them in, and out, with the minimum of aggro.

Personally, Lucy often felt a spark of sympathy for the men who used her. Most of them were more nervous than her, and she prided herself on being able to suss them out quickly and easily. She had never really had any trouble from them. Only once had she ever had to assert herself with a client, and that was because he had finished before he had even begun, and then had the nerve to expect a second go for free. He had been a short, bald-headed Turkish bloke with bad breath and a very expensive phone. It was strange what you noticed. She had sternly informed him that he had to pay again or she would call her husband. He had swallowed the bluff and left cursing her in his native tongue.

But, for the most part, the men who frequented her establishment were timid, overawed by her sheer height and statuesque build, and they tended to come back again and again. Recent events had made her realise she had become a bit too complacent and she was determined to make sure that never happened again.

As Lucy let herself into the flat she heard Janie singing in the kitchen. Taking off her coat, she walked through the hallway calling out, ‘Pour me one and all, will you.’

Janie was already dressed in her street clothes, she looked like any other young girl now. Bereft of make-up and in baggy jeans and an oversized sweatshirt she was the archetypal young mum. Hair scraped back into a ponytail, and her feet encased in a pair of Nike Airs, she was still pretty enough to get a second glance from most men. She looked a thousand miles away from the girl she became while at work.

‘What would you like? There’s white wine or Bacardi Breezers in the fridge. I know you like a few before you start your shift.’

‘White wine please. Did you have a nice couple of days off ?’

Janie took a deep draught of her drink then she said quietly, ‘Too right. I heard about Danielle.’

Lucy nodded. ‘It’s fucking mad, ain’t it? Terri found her, and you know what she’s like. Coked out of her fucking nut by all accounts. She reckons Bates cleared the place of anything that could cause aggravation. Wiped the whole place down because of prints, and poor Danni was lying there the whole time, dead as a doornail. She had been really done over and all, but no one can get the full bifta. Terri’s frightened of getting involved; Bates told her to keep her nose out, and who can blame her? If her family finds out what she’s doing, there’ll be murders.’

‘What did she tell the Old Bill?’

‘That she came in and found the body. She pretended she was a newbie, though if they believe that, they’ll believe anything; she’s been on the game since she left school. The thing is though, what can she do? If she spills the beans she would be putting everyone in it, most of us do this on the quiet. It’s not like t had been everything to her, and sNke bhe had he Filth would give us a swerve, is it? Do you think we’re safe, Janie?’

Janie sighed heavily, her face as bewildered as her friend’s. ‘What’s safe in this game? What with dogging and the internet, I’m amazed there’s anyone who still requires our services, they can get a free fuck in any council car park providing they don’t mind an audience. I know one thing though, we’re safer here than on the streets, and whoever did Danielle will be loath to repeat it with all the furore it’s caused. That flat is closed down, but all the others are still going. Old Batesy thinks it was the ex-boyfriend, she was seeing that druggie for years on and off. I can’t see a stranger doing something like that, it’s too personal. I heard she had a chair leg shoved up inside her. I mean, what the fuck would make someone do that to her? And if you remember, she had a few good hidings off that idiot over the years. He put her in hospital more than once.’

‘Well, if it was him he’s going to be collared sooner rather than later. Her mum will see to that, she hated him because he kept taking all Danielle’s money.’

‘Makes my blood run cold just thinking about it. What a way to die. I think we should consider working in pairs for a while, just in case it’s not him.’

Lucy shrugged, her shoulders looking even more impressive than usual because of the sheer material of her Matalan top. ‘Well, let’s wait and see. I am on till six and I have a full quota. I’m going to put a heavy ornament by the bed in case of emergencies. But I can’t see anything happening tonight.’

Janie poured herself another wine and, taking a large swig, she said sadly, ‘I never liked Danielle, she was a flash prat, but I wouldn’t wish anything like that on my worst enemy.’

‘Who the fuck would? But it will bring heat with it, you can depend on that.’

Jimmy Heart was worried. He had been arrested, but not charged, and he had been sitting in the interview room for over an hour and a half without anyone even looking in on him. He was terrified. He had last had a toot about an hour before his arrest, and he was just about to go and score when he had been rudely detained. Now he was starting to rock; he needed another hit, and he needed it soon. He was sweating and his heart was racing. He knew that there was something serious going down, but he wasn’t sure about what his part was in all of it. He was shrewd enough to know that he was going to be accused of something, he was also shrewd enough to know that, whatever it was, he probably was involved in some way because he normally was. Unfortunately for him, he had no recollection of anything that might have brought him to the Filth’s attention. He also knew that if he was being detained and ignored by the said Filth, it was a serious tug. But he had not done anything to his knowledge that warranted such a production.

Jimmy was genuinely bewildered, but he was also worried. The police were more than capable of fitting a person up when the fancy took them. He could name many people who had not only been accused, but put away for a crime they had no knowledge of nor, more importantly, the intelligence to prove their innocence of. It was a worry, but it was also a given. For all his fear, he knew he was nothing more than a junkie, a dealer. In the grand scheme of things he was a nobody. So his sensible head was asking him repeatedly why he was waiting for the big interrogation. He knew he did not warrant this kind of treatment. He talked a big game but, in reality, he had never actually experienced one. He was a ponce, no more, and no less. Kate knew from experiencll font-style: italic

It never occurred to Jimmy that he might be there because of his love life, his girlfriend. She was not even important enough to register on his radar, all she was to him was an earn. He supplied her drugs and relieved her of money on a regular basis. It was an arrangement that seemed to suit them both.