Personal Protection (13 page)

I did, but I sensed there was more to this impromptu gathering than throwing me that particular bone. I simply nodded and let her speak.

“We’d also like to employ you and Dean to look into what’s been happening to us. Officially. We want to sign a contract.”

“We’ve got the money,” one of the unnamed girls said, opening a huge handbag. Stuffed full of twenty pound notes.

“Give me a minute and I’ll print some contracts up.” I went over to my PC and booted it up, gave the printer the appropriate commands and paper. While it got to work, I asked,
“What changed your minds?”

“We’ve been watching you,” Joy said. “We trust you. Tori’s told us about what you do and… Well, you know about Lisa. We’re scared. We don’t want
it to happen to us.”

“I was sorry to hear about Lisa’s death. I don’t think I ever met her.”

“She was new. She started after you came down to watch the last time, but before you became a bouncer at the club.” This from Liu.

“You know we can’t directly investigate Lisa’s death, not without her parents’ say-so?”

“I told them that, Randall,” Tori replied. “After talking to them I’m sure you won’t get it. You might find something out while you’re looking into
what’s been happening to us. If it’s the same person doing it.”

“That’s true. We’ll have to hand it over to the police if we do. They don’t take kindly to what they think of as amateurs tripping all over their
investigation.”

I collected the forms, logged off then turned back to the ladies to hand them out. “I take it none of you have been to the police about your own situations?”

There were a few uncomfortable and indignant looks. How much of their reluctance was Brian Senior’s gag order? How much because they had some reason not to trust the police? And how much
because they had something to hide?

I could see this wouldn’t be easily resolved, even if the perpetrator was the same in all their crimes. Getting at the information and evidence to bring him – or her – to
justice was going to be an uphill struggle, especially if they kept hiding things from me along the way.

“Look, I can’t promise we won’t have to turn over some of what you tell us to the authorities at some point, not if it will help them catch Lisa’s killer.”

“What about client confidentiality?”

I was tempted to tell Joy she’d been reading too much detective fiction, but I bit my tongue and explained patiently, “That doesn’t always work. If the police think we’re
impeding the progress of their enquiry they can imprison us or subpoena our records. Like confiscating hardcore porn from a sex shop. If we keep everything above board, pass on what they need to
know, look helpful, they leave us alone. For the most part your private business stays private. I’m not saying everything you tell me will be pertinent, but on the off chance that it might
be, you have to be aware we can’t conceal it. That would make us guilty of a crime too. Anybody who doesn’t want to do this should leave now. It’s all in the contract. Read it
before you sign.”

“Why are you making this so difficult? We came to you for help!” This from another one of the unnamed girls.

“I’m not trying to make it any harder than it is. I know it’s difficult for you to talk about things like burglaries, assaults, vandalism of your homes, or rape. You feel
violated and rightly so! Tori will tell you that I haven’t forced her to talk about what happened, I’ve let her deal with it in her own way. She’s only said what she felt
comfortable saying.”

Tori nodded.

“But it wouldn’t be legal or ethical if I let you sign under false pretences. Kindness doesn’t come into it. After what you’ve been through I don’t want you to feel
trapped because I didn’t explain something to you. If you say something in confidence that isn’t pertinent it will stay between us. Nothing gets committed to paper that doesn’t
have to be.”

Sammi looked at me. “Randall’s right. She’s just telling it how it is. Quit bitching and read the small print, Stace. Randall’s telling you your rights, unlike the
pigs.”

I wasn’t surprised to hear how negative Sammi was about the local constabulary.

“Why does it ask whether I have a criminal record?” Liu wondered.

What to say? I finally settled on, “So we can exclude your personal details from anything we pass on to the police if that will present a problem at a later stage.”

It was also for our own records. If we didn’t check our clients out, we could end up being used as the weapon to harass a completely innocent party. Knowing whether the person paying your
bills was a victim or an abuser was a good place to start the investigation. Quite often the first place. Investigate the client before you investigate their story. Always.

I couldn’t tell them that. The brighter ones among them had surely already come to that conclusion. It’s what the police do. We operate the same way, albeit on a smaller scale. We
can’t afford to be any less impartial if we want to get at the truth, even though we are taking our clients’ money.

Sammi wrote down a long string of convictions. I was happy to see her openness. Why lie? We’d find out. The internet means there’s no such thing as secrets.

Most of them didn’t feel they had anything to hide. They each read the terms and conditions, filled out the appropriate sections, together with a brief description of the complaint they
wanted us to investigate, and signed the page. I signed below, dated it, then separated the duplicate and handed it back. Seeing their comrades so easily satisfied shamed the others into completing
their own contracts. Once everyone had handed over the papers, I locked them in a drawer until I could get them to the office. Then I counted the money and wrote out a receipt. The money went into
the drawer too. I’d take it to the bank the moment they were gone.

“What happens next?” Tori asked for all of them.

“We arrange appropriate times for interviews with each of you so you can tell us in detail what happened. It might help you to spend some time thinking about this, and putting some notes
down to remind you of the salient points. Just as if you were going for a job interview. If you feel more comfortable, you can write the whole incident down, make a statement.”

Some of them looked relieved.

“After we’ve read it, we’ll discuss any points we’re not clear on with you, and ask you questions to further open up the problem. This will give us a place to start. Once
we have preliminary information and evidence, we’ll begin the investigation. We may need to get back to you, so we’ll use your mobile numbers to clarify any points. There may be times
when we need you to come into the office. We’ll arrange something that works for all of us.”

“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t feel comfortable talking to a man about what happened to me,” Liu admitted. The others mumbled their agreement.

“OK, I’ll see to it that I conduct the interviews, but I’ll have to tape them. Dean is the real detective in this outfit, I’m still learning the job.”

They seemed content. Having unburdened themselves of both problems and money they were reluctant to stay. Making polite farewells, they beat a retreat. I was left in a quiet apartment with only
the smell of perfume and the dent in my floor to show for their presence.

Tori’s arms slid around me from behind. She laid her head on my shoulder. “You OK? You seem shell-shocked.”

“It’s the suddenness of it all. Last night you told me they hadn’t made a decision. Now I find we’ve got two more clients than I’d originally bargained
for.”

“Stace and Terri. They heard us talking and spilled the beans – told us they’d had stuff happen to them too. Watching you last night decided them. It’s OK, isn’t
it?”

“Of course. Dean will be thrilled to see that much work and that much money drop into his lap.” I thought about it. “You’re sure it’s the same kind of
thing?”

“From what little they told me.”

“It’s not going to be difficult for you, is it? Having to talk about what happened? Once we’ve eliminated the obvious suspects we’re going to have to go into things in
more depth.”

“It won’t be easy, but if it stops this, it’ll have been worth it. Until I mentioned it to Sammi, I never knew it had happened to other people. Everyone at the club seems to
confide in her. I wanted to keep it to myself, forget about it, get on with my life. You know.”

I clasped her hands and squeezed them, saddened that she hadn’t felt able to discuss this with me before the other girls got involved.

“Sammi made me realise it was important. What I’d seen and heard could be used to stop it from happening to anyone else. Staying quiet could allow it to happen to someone else! That
would make me as responsible as the person who did it. I couldn’t live with that.”

“If it’s any consolation, you’ve done the right thing.”

“Thanks.”

We stood like that a few moments longer then Tori disentangled herself and made noises about having a shower and getting ready to leave. I’d promised to take her back to her flat today. My
time was going to be limited. I had to go into the office, rearrange the work schedule with Dean and bank the money before meeting my client at two.

An hour and a half later, after dropping off the contracts with Dean, giving him a sketchy explanation of the morning’s events and leaving him to bank the money, I picked Tori up and drove
her home.

She was happy with what I’d done at her flat. She tried to press money on me for it, and when I wouldn’t let her she insisted she’d make it up in kind! I took her through the
security arrangements, then she dragged me out shopping for new curtains and bedding to replace those ruined during the break-in. When we got back she insisted on christening the new bedding as
part of making it up to me: an offer I couldn’t refuse! Finally she cooked me an early lunch.

While this was all very sweet and domestic, it firmed my resolve never to live with anyone. Not even someone I cared about as much as Tori. I was looking forward to having my home to myself
again. I’d relished the hour I spent on my own while Tori got ready to leave, setting my apartment to rights, eradicating sights and scents of another person’s habitation and our
impromptu visitors. I’m fond of my own company. Doing what I want when I want and how.

Tori had been sensible enough to say nothing. She didn’t press me about living together. I liked to think her thoughts on the subject were the same as mine. Maybe she hoped she’d
persuade me differently if she didn’t nag?

I left Tori happily cleaning and restoring her home with the prospect of visits from her parents and friends and the promise that I would return for dinner if my client didn’t keep me too
late. Failing that, I told her she should eat without me and I’d pick her up to take her to the Paradise. Knowing she was as safe as I could make her, I forced myself to concentrate on my new
client and the money that would keep the business afloat.

“You want to go round the council estates on Grange Park?”

The man was deranged.

“I’m told many people are at home during the day. A large proportion of the unemployed in this town live there,” he said, plummy tones dripping feigned concern.

Dean looked pained. “Which is precisely why you shouldn’t go there.”

“I must go where the voting public is.”

“Only if you want to get lynched,” I muttered.

“Which is what you’re supposed to be there to prevent.”

Bugger! He had good hearing.

Dean glared at me. It was all right for him; he didn’t have to risk life and limb going round Rider Haggard Court escorting a public school twit.

Things went downhill from there. The only reason I’d given the suggestion house room was the money he was offering. It was good. Very good.

The following afternoon I left Dean figuring out the schedules for our new clients, changed my clothes and joined my Principal, the Liberal Democrat MP, on a walk around one of the most
dangerous parts of town with his entourage of flunkeys and hangers-on.

I wondered what the adventure writer would have made of his namesake as I shepherded my charges around young can-kicking children playing truant from school and steered them clear of proto-gang
adolescents, to the centre of a grass verge strewn with dog shit.

This is the sort of place where if you’re fortunate enough to find the chassis when you get back. The car will be on blocks and someone will have nicked the wheels, battery, stereo and
anything else not bolted down.

We’d left his campaign bus four streets away. Which made me popular with his flunkeys who had to lug the PA system. I offered to help until we got to a workable spot, but as his lordship
pointed out, I couldn’t do much protecting with my hands full.

Setting up beside an empty Glasdon bin, he checked the sound level and started his pitch. He sounded convincing. Pity he didn’t believe a word of it.

Then he held babies, posed for pictures, fielded heckling and answered questions from the people he drew from the flats.

They were as fascinated by the bulge of Kevlar under my jacket as they were with anything he said. Body armour was unusual, even around here. I stood more or less in front of him, (possible, as
I’m not tall and he was) while he orated. His wage slaves with the sound system protected his back.

Time to leave. We started for the car.

A guy in a filthy barbour staggered out of an alley in front of us talking to himself. His smell preceded him. The MP’s flunkeys, products of a lifetime ignoring oddballs on the London
Underground, pretended the apparition wasn’t there and hurried on. My Principal was not so well prepared. Either never having seen the like in his privileged life, or so high on his success
that he saw another opportunity to proselytise, he hailed the fragrant vagrant.

“Excuse me. Yes, you, sir! Might I ask what brought you to this pass? Could it be…”

I didn’t listen to any more. I was already moving. When Stinky (not very PC, but this was hardly the time) turned around, shaken out of his own little world, I saw how wide the pupils of
his eyes were dilated. This hopped-up hobo wasn’t going to take any bullshit from a politico. Not even one as slick as my Principal.