Hard Girls (32 page)

Kate laughed, but Terrence’s eyes had become harder, and she saw the real man sitting opposite her. ‘Sort of. You own the house that Valerie Kent was working in. At least, you are
one
of the owners. I thought it best if I came and had a chat, unofficial, like? See what I mean?’

Terry visibly relaxed then refilled their glasses before saying warily, ‘I might have an interest in the property, but I never went there myself. I’ve never stepped a foot over the threshold. All that having the bejesus knocked out of you isn’t my cup of tea.’

He was smiling now and Kate knew that he appreciated that she had come here personally, that she hadn’t sent a uniform or, worse still, a DC. Terrence O’Leary hated the police with an all-consuming passion, seeing them as trying to stop a man like himself from earning a living. Which, of course, is exactly what they
were
trying to do. It paid them to pay them, as Pat always said. It galled her, but she knew it was true. As Patrick said, it was all economics. The black economy was a valid part of the daily lives of most English people. If things were sold at the right price, without the humongous mark-up, people wouldn’t get into debt and, ergo, the country could only prosper.

Pat believed that it was like the war, when people lived off the spivs. After all, the whole ethos of a consumer society was to
consume
. If people weren’t
able
to consume because it was too expensive, you couldn’t sell the product. If you can’t sell the product, you have no market. Why outprice the man on the street? It was ludicrous to expect people to get into debt with credit cards or loans, why not sell them their goods at a reasonable price?

‘Who ran the place? I promise this will be in the strictest confidence. All I want is someone who might be able to give me a heads-up on this fucking nutter. If the girls were available to talk to, that would be a great help. I give you my word, nothing more will come of this. But that girl was tortured and murdered, Terry, she deserves to be treated with respect.’

Terry digested her words for a while, and she knew that his instinct was telling him to keep as far away from Old Bill as possible. She also knew that he was a fair man, and that he would want to see the man responsible for the girl’s death locked up. He sighed heavily, as if he was not sure he was doing the right thing. Helping the police was not something he would ordinarily have done.

‘OK, Kate. You can talk to Simone. She runs the place, and she is a nice woman. You’ll like her. But I would only do this for you, no one else.’

It was a warning, he was telling her to keep the police at bay. Kate smiled, swallowed down her drink, then held her glass out for another. ‘I understand that Lionel was a frequent visitor, is that true?’

Terry grinned once more. ‘That old fucker? What have you got against him or, more to the point, what do you
want
over him?’

‘He needs taking down a peg or two.’

black and white. ft coming y‘Well, I won’t argue with that. But this sounds personal, very personal.’

‘That’s because it is. He has looked down on me for years because of Patrick and our life together. I had him bang to rights on the other girls, but the S&M just sounds so much more sordid.’

Terry laughed. ‘That Patrick, he’s a fecking eejit. Women like you, Kate, are what my old mother would call a keeper.’

Kate laughed then, really laughed. Then she said with heavy sarcasm, ‘Yeah? Well, try telling him that.’

Terrence O’Leary was heart-sorry for her. He liked her a lot and he respected her, regardless of her chosen vocation. ‘I have, Kate, on numerous occasions. He knows he’s fucked up, big time.
Everyone
knows he’s fucked up, big time. Even you being a
Filth
hasn’t stopped people liking you. They know you’re one of the good guys, you look for the
real
killers, the real murderers. That’s something to be proud of. It’s not like you ever stuck your beak into any of our businesses. And look at you now, you came here personally to save me from any embarrassment, and I will never forget a courtesy like that. But I’ll tell you this now, old romantic that I am, he loves you. After his daughter’s death, he needed someone,
really
needed someone to turn to. You and him are a great pair, he’s a fucking eejit, but then I’m preaching to the converted, aren’t I?’

Kate laughed again. ‘When can I see Simone?’

Terrence smiled at her, understanding that he had stepped over the unwritten line. ‘I’ll have her available some time this afternoon, and I’ll tell her to be truthful. Remember, Kate, this will never be a statement. She’ll talk to you only as a friend. Is that fair enough? That’s if she agrees to talk to you, of course. If she don’t want to and refuses, that’s her prerogative. I can’t say fairer than that, can I?’

Kate nodded her acquiescence, there was nothing else she could do. Terrence O’Leary held all the cards and she knew that, unless he gave her the nod, Simone wouldn’t talk to her parish priest, let alone the police. Even when the police was Pat Kelly’s bird.

‘Tell her it’s no more than an informal chat, and ask her to be as open as possible. I give you my word that I’ll keep her out of it as much as I can. I want a lead, no more and no less. I need someone to give me something useful. It’s in all our interests to capture this fucker, not just mine, but yours as well.’

Terrence O’Leary nodded, he knew Kate was speaking the truth. The sooner the cunt was apprehended, the better for all concerned. It would take the spotlight off them, so to speak. Kate always impressed him with her intelligence and her guts. She managed to straddle two stools, live within two worlds, and she did it all with aplomb. He decided to throw her an added bone. She deserved it, and he knew that she needed all the help she could down the gaff that passed as a police station.

‘Going back to Lionel, the piece of shite. Kate, did you know he likes to be beaten with a hairbrush? He’s right into the rough and tumble him. Jesus, even I was shocked at his antics. Now that’s the truth, Katie love, as God is me witness. He’s a fucking strange cove, if you get me meaning.’

They laughed together at the image of Lionel getting beaten with a hairbrush, it was a hilarious thought their nearest and dearest,3uny. The man was a fool, but worse than that, he was a dangerous fool. But Kate knew that Terrence O’Leary was giving her the bullets, and all she needed to do was fire them. It was strange that it took a known criminal to make her life so much easier. But then again, she had known all along that people were never what you thought they were, and that help often came from the strangest of places.

‘I hear he likes to emulate strangling the young women as well. Old Lionel is not a man I would ever consider as a suitor for any of my daughters, but he’s not capable of a real killing. He hasn’t got the fucking balls of a gnat, if you get my drift, Kate.’

Oh, she got his drift all right. Lionel Dart was scum, absolute scum. But then, she had known that for years. He was her boss and, as such, he was supposed to be above all this kind of shit. It seemed to her that, in fact, he was actually using his position to pursue it. Scum rose to the surface, and she was determined to make sure that this piece of scum sank, that it disappeared once and for all. Lionel Dart was a predator, a man who used everyone around him to further his own agenda. He saw himself as above the people he was supposed to be hunting down and yet he took bribes and used those poor girls. All the while doing it without the slightest care for the people he might hurt or crush.

‘I think the sooner I get that fucker aborted the better, don’t you, Terrence?’

He smiled at Kate’s anger. She wasn’t a girl any more, but he could see what had attracted Pat Kelly. She had class, and that was something you were born with, no amount of money could fake it. He should know, he had tried hard enough over the years to emulate it.

Terrence picked up the phone on his desk and said quietly, ‘Stay, Kate. I’ll get Simone here within the hour.’

Margaret was still researching the dead girls’ lives, and it made for fascinating reading. She was astonished at how they had been pushed from one care home to another. Did no one think that these girls needed stability, needed love and care?

As she read the girls’ private files Margaret felt the sense of futility that she knew had to have become a part of their daily lives. They must have felt worthless. None of them would have known that they were entitled to so much more, were entitled to be treated as human beings.

She saw the same thing over and over again. They were written off at a young age and programmed to believe that
they
were the problem, not the people who were supposed to be taking care of them.

More than a few of the girls had run away on more than one occasion, had tried to make a better life for themselves. They had all been looking after themselves, basically since they could walk. They had been removed from their mothers’ care, from their homes, at a very young age and had then been forced through the care system. At sixteen, they were turfed out on to the streets with a few quid and no real hope of a happy ending.

Did none of these girls’ mothers care that they had children? That these same children would grow up one day, would become women in their own right? Did they feel no responsibility to their offspring? No affection or love?

Coming from a very good family, it occurred to Margaret Dole that she had, in effect, lived a charmed life. She understood now just how lucky she had been with her parents. They loved her. She had grown up surrounded by the love of her mother and father, and later she had fought against that love with all her being. She had felt they were holding her back somehow because thee appreciatedc it seemyy loved her
too
much. Now though, reading these files made her realise just how fortunate she really was. Holidays, good clothes, nice food, people who cared for her, had seemed the norm. She had never understood how other people’s lives could be, how that might make them rebel, and rebel in the worst possible way. Abuse and violence had been a way of life for most of the girls, they had come out of the so-called care system and been ripe for the job that had finally killed them.

Margaret only wished she had known how fortunate she was a long time ago. Her parents had been absolute fucking diamonds, and she had not understood that until now. It had taken the deaths of these young women to make her understand just how lucky she had been. How lucky she still was. She had a saviour at the end of a phone line, she had a haven to go to whenever the world got too much for her. She had the opportunity to spread her wings knowing she had the back-up of two wonderful people who adored her, warts and all. Picking up the phone, Margaret dialled her parents’ home number. Suddenly she felt a desperate need to make contact with them, to tell them how much she loved and cared for them. She had finally grown up, and it had taken these tragic deaths for her to achieve that. It was a sobering and troubling thought.

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Chapter Nineteen

Strangely, Kate hadn’t felt any euphoria at Lionel’s downfall, she just still felt the disgust that police like him engendered inside her. She
loathed
him, she always had. But still, she knew a scandal would not do anyone any favours, least of all the person who would be taking over his position. You always had to think ahead in her profession and try and protect your colleagues. Not because you agreed with what they had done, but because anything that tainted them eventually tainted everyone around them. It was like a disease that spread and infected everyone it came into contact with.

If Lionel’s association with Candy Cane ever became common knowledge, the whole case would go down the toilet. Anyone she apprehended would have their lawyer arguing that it was a police fit-up, that they were protecting the real culprit.

Simone was in her early thirties and all lip gloss and well-cut hair. She came across as being open and friendly, but she was as hard as nails. She had to be, but she didn’t look it yet, she was still young enough and new enough to the game, to keep the impression of youthful naivety.

‘Thank you for seeing us.’

Annie’s voice sounded friendly and approachable. Kate was pleased, she was really getting the persona right now. She used to talk to people like { 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; } .fmepivdut the epivc { display: block; font-size: 0.75rem; text-align: center; combination someone from
The Sweeney
and Kate knew from experience that that kind of behaviour only worked on a certain type of person. Generally, it was easier to chat and gain the trust of whoever you were interviewing, that way they tended to open up more. Kate had learned, early on, the power of respect, of treating people as an equal. With a suspect you could make them see that you had their number straight off. They were, in essence, fair game. But witnesses were a different ballgame. Even if you believed they could be the perpetrator, you couldn’t treat them like dirt. So many young policemen and women didn’t understand the game until it was too late. The law stated that a person was innocent until proven guilty and for Kate, that meant just that: until you could prove their guilt, you treated them like visiting royalty. Once you had the proof, of course, you were then within your rights to fucking slaughter them, left, right and centre. Kate had explained the process to Annie on more than one occasion and her nagging was finally paying off.

Simone was someone who could unwittingly give them the push they needed, but she had to be coaxed. She might not even realise that she had information that could be of relevance to them. If the person interviewing them was aggressive and intimidating, if that person came across as an avenging angel, anything of value was often lost. It was the minutiae, the little things that really mattered.