Tastes Like Fear (D.I. Marnie Rome 3) (31 page)

‘Another bedroom.’

‘Is that where you sleep?’

‘No. My room’s at the back.’

‘Who sleeps upstairs?’

‘Aimee, for now.’ Christie shrugged. ‘I’ll introduce you later. She’ll be sleeping now.’

‘Why? Is she a baby?’ Laura looked as if the idea of a baby frightened her.

‘No. She’s had the flu so she needs a lot of rest. I’ll take her some food in a bit.’

‘Okay. I’ll help if you like. I’m good at looking after people. My mum drinks, it’s why my dad left. I looked after my little brother until they took us into care.’

Christie was used to listening to the girls’ stories, setting her face to
sympathy
. It helped that she was afraid of Laura. She didn’t know why, only that the girl looked ancient, a spell-breaker, like she’d been alive for ever. Harm had wanted a girl and Christie had brought him one. Let him deal with it. ‘What happened to your brother?’

Laura walked to the window with its tinted glass and its view of the chimneys at Battersea. She said in a stiff voice, ‘He died. It’s why I ran away, so I didn’t end up the same.’

Christie nodded. ‘I get it.’

‘Do you?’

‘I told you about Neve.’

Laura turned so the light was behind her, blanking her eyes. ‘How did you find this place?’

‘Harm found it. He was working here when the new flats were going up. They never finished building, permissions expired, they ran out of money.’ Christie recited the story with a shrug. ‘He says sooner or later someone will come and kick us out, but it hasn’t happened yet.’

‘So we’re squatters?’

‘More or less. It’s safe, that’s the main thing.’ Could this girl hear the hard hammering of the lie in Christie’s throat? ‘So … are you staying?’

Laura had her hands in her pockets. Christie saw her curl a fist around the key she’d taken from the drawer. The key that didn’t fit any of the locks in here.

She nodded. ‘For a bit, thanks. If you’re sure it’s okay.’

‘It’s great,’ Christie said. ‘Good to have you with us.’

46

‘We have a problem with Grace Bradley.’

Marnie stood beside the girl’s photo on the whiteboard, addressing the team. ‘She’s clearly very distressed by whatever happened to her and whatever she witnessed before
and
after she found her way on to the Garrett. A trauma specialist is trying to piece together what she knows and how it might help us find Loz.’

‘So it’s not true that she confessed.’ Ron folded his arms.

‘There was no confession.’ Marnie looked at each member of her team in turn. ‘Some of you, I know, have seen the photographs of the writing on Grace. All of you, I’m sure, have heard the rumour going around that someone, maybe Grace herself, wrote the word “Killer” on her left arm.’ She paused, needing their attention focused on what mattered. ‘There are a lot of words on her arms, and on her legs, and elsewhere on her body. One of those words is “Killer”, another is “Dead”. I don’t believe her to be a killer, and thanks to DS Jake’s sharp ears, she’s not dead. To be clear, we have
no reason
at this time to believe Grace was responsible for the death of May Beswick, and certainly not of Ashleigh Jewell, since at that time she was locked in Emma Tarvin’s flat. We need to find out where she was before that happened, where she ran
from
on the night of the crash. She was coming from the west, according to both Joe and Ruth Eaton. She was on foot and she’d covered some ground.’ Grace’s feet were bruised and swollen, raw with walking. ‘We’re looking for anything we can find on Christine or Christie Faulk. She was seen with Loz eight hours ago. We’re putting together an e-fit so we’ll have a face to show to people soon. And we’re still looking for Jamie Ledger. DS Jake, you have an update on that?’

‘Ledger has worked on a series of new-build sites across London in the last thirteen months,’ Noah said. ‘We’re checking the ones to the west of Battersea Power Station and the Garrett. We know Grace was picked up by Christie over in Lewisham, so we’ve favoured sites in that direction. DC Pitcher’s drawn up a map. It’s on the board. Take a look.’

‘Loz hasn’t used her phone since texting last night,’ Debbie said. ‘Mum and Dad have tried texting and calling but the phone’s switched off and may’ve been dumped. We’re trying to trace it.’

‘We’re thinking somewhere large enough to hold more than one girl at a time and where they’d feel safe.’ Colin removed his glasses, polishing them. ‘At least to begin with. May and Ashleigh were clean and well fed. We’re not looking at a warehouse or a derelict site. This is somewhere with running water, meals. A home. We’re assuming that’s where Christie’s taken Loz.’

‘Our witnesses from the Stockwell subway didn’t get a scary vibe from Christie.’ Noah nodded at the missing faces pinned to the whiteboard. ‘She isn’t forcing these girls to go with her, but she’s clever. Manipulative. She wanted to take Loz and she knew how to make it happen. Joel and the others thought she’d be safe – didn’t see Christie as any kind of a threat. Loz isn’t naïve, but she is desperate. To find her sister’s killer.’ He paused. ‘I can believe she went with Christie hoping Christie would lead her to the killer. But I can’t believe she went thinking Christie
was
the killer.’

‘She could’ve got that wrong,’ Debbie said. ‘She’s thirteen, and not thinking straight.’

‘Bradley won’t give us anything?’ Ron demanded. ‘An address, a general location?’

‘She’s in shock,’ Marnie said. ‘Give her time.’

‘We don’t
have
time. Loz’s been gone five hours. With some nutter who’s either killing girls or handing them over to some other nutter who is. Her parents must be out of their minds.’

Marnie didn’t argue. Sean and Katrina Beswick were stunned, still trying to process the fact that Loz had gone in search of May’s killer. ‘Why?’ Katrina kept asking. ‘Why would she do that? Does she
hate
us?’As if Loz was a mystery to her, the way Ashleigh had been to her mother.

‘What about the other teenagers Joel told us about? Eric – any matches in Misper for him?’

‘Just one.’ Debbie handed Marnie a print-off. ‘Eric James Mackay. Fifteen years old, missing from care since 2012. Criminal record, so don’t be taken in by the sweet face.’ The photo showed a dark-haired boy with high cheekbones and a shy smile; one of those almost-familiar faces that so many missing children seemed to share. ‘This was taken when he was twelve.’

‘What were the charges?’

‘Kick and run. Malicious damage. Nothing major, but he could’ve been in worse trouble since.’

‘No recent sightings,’ Noah said. ‘Not much to go on, and the photo’s out of date if he’s fifteen now. Joel called him a psycho. You can bet he doesn’t look like that any longer.’

Marnie studied the photograph, wondering what Eric Mackay looked like now. Had he, like Stephen, shed his angelic disguise, become a shaven-headed thug?

‘Send a copy of this to my phone.’ She handed the photograph back to Debbie. ‘And to DS Jake’s. We should show it to Joel and the others, see if they can identify him as the boy they knew. Christie is using this subway to collect kids. May and Ashleigh, now Loz. We should trace anyone who used it as a place to hang out, anyone who might know Christie and where she’s taking these children. Our priority is finding Loz. Commander Welland is pulling in help with house-to-house and CCTV checks. We’re on this until we find her. DS Jake?’

Noah followed Marnie into her office. She sat behind the desk, connecting her phone to its charger. He took the seat opposite, waiting to hear what she was thinking.

‘We need to be careful with Grace,’ she said. ‘Kenickie’s double-parked outside her hospital room wanting to make an arrest. DS Carling’s somewhat sympathetic to his cause.’

‘Ron’s upset about Emma,’ Noah said. ‘He can’t believe he misread her so badly.’

‘It’ll be worse when he sees the statement I took from Jodie Izard. She makes Grace sound like the sort of girl who’d get a kick out of causing a traffic accident, even a fatal one.’ Marnie pushed her hair from her face, and reached for her phone when it rang. ‘DI Rome.’ Her face tensed as she listened. ‘You realise this is a murder investigation? Good. Do that.’ She got to her feet, motioning for Noah to do the same. To the caller, she said, ‘I’ll see you at the station.’

She hung up and reached for her coat. ‘That was Adam Fletcher.’

‘The journalist?’ Noah remembered Fletcher from their investigation six months ago. His name had been on the media party list from Battersea. ‘What’s he got?’

Marnie was at the door. ‘Jamie Ledger.’ She pocketed her phone. ‘Or so he says.’

Adam Fletcher looked as if he hadn’t slept in a week, blue circles under his eyes, blue stubble on his chin. In chinos and a white T-shirt, boat shoes on his bare feet. Not enough clothes for the weather; he shivered as he jerked his head at Noah, before focusing on Marnie.

‘You’re looking for Ledger,’ he said, ‘but he’s not your killer.’

‘Where is he? You said you had a good idea.’

‘He took me to this place in Mitcham six weeks ago.’ Fletcher gave Noah the address. ‘Used to be a family planning clinic about a hundred years ago, bought by an American who’s waiting for permission to convert it into a glass box. Right now it’s boarded up, aluminium sheeting, the works. But Ledger knew a way in. Had a camping stove, bottled water, a sleeping bag. Said he wasn’t living there, just a place he could crash, off radar.’

‘And you were interested why?’ Marnie asked.

‘For the irony.’ Adam shrugged his shoulders. ‘Family planning clinic bought by a Texan developer with links to pro-life campaigners? I know an editor who’d love that story.’

‘You met Ledger at the Battersea media party, is that right?’

Adam nodded. ‘Said he had a story about the developers taking backhanders. I wasn’t convinced he had anything worth paying for, not at Battersea, but he said he knew other places with dodgy developers on board. So I gave him fifty quid and he took me to Mitcham.’

‘When were you last in touch with him?’

‘Two, three weeks ago?’ Adam shook his head. ‘Long before you started finding bodies.’

‘You said he’s not the killer.’ Noah was searching his phone for details of the derelict clinic in Mitcham. He glanced up, wanting to see the man’s response. ‘What makes you so sure?’

‘I’ve met killers,’ Adam said inflexibly. ‘He’s not crazy enough.’

‘He’s breaking the law,’ Marnie said. ‘Trespassing. Squatting. And he’s been missing since we started a double murder investigation.’

‘Whoever put May Beswick up there wants to be seen. Ledger doesn’t want that.’

‘He had access to the penthouse,’ Noah said. ‘He was working there the night May died.’

‘Yeah, I bet you’re kicking yourselves that you didn’t arrest him when you had the chance.’ Adam shoved his hands into his pockets, goose bumps on his arms. ‘Look, am I making a statement or what? Only I’m freezing my bollocks off out here.’

‘You’re making a statement,’ Marnie said shortly. ‘What number do you have for Ledger?’

Adam thumbed through his phone, showed Noah the screen. ‘He’s not answering.’

Noah put the number into his phone and dialled it.

‘You’ve been calling him,’ Marnie said.

‘Since you found May. Knew he wasn’t the killer. Wanted to see if he had anything, though.’

‘Did he?’

‘God knows. Like I said, he isn’t answering. Didn’t think it was a big deal until I saw his mugshot in the paper this morning.’

‘It was on the TV news last night.’

‘Didn’t catch it. Are we done?’

Marnie looked at Noah, who shook his head. Ledger’s number had rung several times before it went to a generic voicemail. ‘Anything else we should know about this place in Mitcham?’ he asked Adam. ‘Such as how to get inside, and whether he has weapons of any kind in there.’

‘No weapons that I could see. We used a fire escape at the back of the place next door. Two floors up, you can cross into the clinic. It’s a bit dodgy, but at least you won’t be doing it after dark.’

‘That’s how you got the bruises,’ Marnie said. ‘On your hands and feet.’

‘He warned me to wear gloves.’ Adam crooked his mouth. ‘I thought he was worried about fingerprints, but he meant climbing. You’ll want good shoes, too.’

Like Dan’s Red Chili climbing shoes from his days with the place-hackers. Ledger wasn’t a place-hacker. Just someone who liked, or needed, to go off radar. Riff had said security guards sometimes took bribes to turn a blind eye. Had Ledger done that? Or something worse?

‘Forget the shoes,’ Adam said. ‘You’ll be going through the front door, I guess.’

Marnie nodded. ‘They’ll take a full statement inside.’

She watched him go into the station. When he was out of earshot, she said, ‘The girls weren’t held in a derelict building.’

‘We didn’t think so,’ Noah agreed. ‘And Mitcham’s outside the radius we drew for places where Ledger was working, but it’s not far out. We should get it checked. He could have moved once he realised we were on to him.’

‘All right, let’s organise it.’ Marnie nodded. ‘I’ll check in with the hospital and see how Grace is doing. Keep in touch.’

47

Aimee

I was dreaming, which was never good, but this was worse because it was about May.

She was standing in the doorway to the bathroom, on the white tiles with the light making her hair shine. Smiling at me the way she always did, because she always knew. The only one I couldn’t hide from. None of the others saw me. Not Ashleigh, or Grace. They only saw Harm’s good girl, his sick girl.

May was standing on the white tiles with her bare feet like mine only smaller, pinker. Her hair was loose and the light was making her nightdress see-through. I could see her stomach and her breasts, everything. She was beautiful. I wanted to touch her.

I knew what Ashleigh would say, her and the others.

They’d call me a lezzer, a freak. But May knew. She saw me.

Under the clothes he made us wear, the skirts and tights. Under his uniform. Like dolls, but I was a Russian doll, hiding inside another that was hiding inside another that was …