Hard Girls (8 page)

Kate was unpacking her bags. As she hung up her clothes and placed her shoes in the bottom of the old-fashioned wardrobe she tried not to think about the day’s events. The room wasn’t bad, she had just forgotten how small the house was in comparison to Patrick’s.

This had been her home for a long time, and she had always resisted the urge to sell it. To get rid of it. Now she was glad about that. Glad she had chosen instead to rent it out. She had loved this house. As she sat on the bed she felt the pull of her old life overwhelm her. Her husband Dan had deceived her, lied to her, and eventually left her for another woman. He had also tried to win her back when he had realised his mistake. By then though, she’d had enough. She had met Patrick Kelly, and he had made her forget how lonely you could be when you were abandoned by the person you loved most.

It was strange really, how one person could have so much impact on your life. You didn’t even know they existed for years, then one day you met them, and that was it. Your whole life would be changed overnight, you suddenly found you needed someone so much you couldn’t imagine your life without them. Yet you had lived without them for years and years, yo far as he was

Chapter Three

Kate looked at the girl’s remains, and remains was the only way to describe what was left of her. The acrid stench of acid was still hanging in the air. Janie Moore’s face and genitalia had been slashed and burned like before. The counterpane underneath had melted. It was obvious the girl had not tried to escape.

‘Have you looked at the toes, Annie?’

The girl’s toes were relaxed, so at least they could assume she would not have felt anything. But she may have been conscious on some level of what was happening to her.

‘How did he get in?’

Kate grinned wryly. ‘This is a premises where letting in strange men is the norm. He must be targeting these girls for a reason. Think about it: Danielle Crosby was left like this girl, open-legged, body posed for the maximum shock, horror of whoever found her. Were these girls hand-picked for a reason, or were they just the ones available? Two girls in three days, that’s a lot. It tells me that whoever this is, they have more than a working knowledge of this area. At least when it comes to the girls and where they’re based.’

‘You think he’s a local then?’

Kate shrugged. ‘Could be, but then again they might have lived here years back, could even have worked around here. Might even have relatives here. Until we find out something concrete it’s all speculation.’

Annie looked around the room, it was a typical sex-worker’s paradise. All peach colours, full-length mirrors and sex toys. It wasn’t as seedy as some of the places she’d seen, but it wasn’t exactly the Ritz either. She wondered at the men who frequented these establishments. What possessed them to come into these places? Nine out of ten of them were putting their whole lives on the line for a bit of strange. If their families knew what they were up to there would be murders. No woman in her right mind was going to accept that kind of behaviour, no matter how much she loved her partner. This was what they laughingly referred to in the station as a Jeremy Kyle situation; a man gets caught with a brass, they all know he’s going to get far more of a punishment from his wife than Lily Law. This time though, there was no humour to be found in the circumstances. It was a tragic and violent loss of a young woman’s life.

Kate looked around the flat with interest. She saw the usual paraphernalia indigenous to Toms, but she also saw that this was quite a homely place outside the bedrooms. The girls who worked here had brought in a touch of normality. She saw the usual mix of make-up and cleansers in the bathroom, the hall cupboard held an array of hooded sweats and warm jackets. There were boots and shoes that were not the usual Tom attire. She had even found a child’s coat and hat in a carrier bag. Her first instinct was to wonder if the place was being used for paedophilia, but the garments still had the price tags on so she guessed they were just the property the sharpest knife in the drawer, asft where the neof one of the girls involved here. There was nothing else to make her think any different. Most of the girls were there to keep their kids clothed and fed anyway. Like lap dancers and hostesses, they were simply trying to keep their heads above water. In this climate it was the only way some women could exist. This place had obviously been used by the same girls over a long period of time. She guessed that they had got used to being here, felt safe, and had probably forgotten how dangerous the job really was. Perhaps they’d let their guard down, assumed that men were all friendly and easily controlled. The reality was so different. Most men were harmless enough, but there were plenty of nutters about as well. These were the men who saw working girls as beneath them and who felt it was perfectly acceptable to hurt them. These men felt a surge of energy by humiliating them, or causing them injury. It was these men that the girls often forgot about until they were standing in front of them with a knife and a smile. Only this one didn’t use a weapon as such, he seemed almost to be trying to cleanse them. The use of acids and industrial cleaners on the girls was clearly important. It was as if he wanted to make them pure again.

Kate kept that opinion to herself because she knew that everything said or speculated upon could find its way into the press. It was a different world now, the old ways were long gone. Young policemen and women were as caught up in the celebrity culture as everyone else. Nothing was kept quiet any more, kept in-house, even if it meant that the person they were looking for was given an out. It was the era of the snide, the internal grass. Everything was fair game these days, even if it meant ruining an ongoing investigation.

Kate wondered how much of this crime scene would hit the papers by the weekend. How much of the girl’s life would be plastered across the front pages. It was always the same now. Her family wouldn’t be allowed the decency to grieve in peace, it would all be in the public domain and her whole life would be out there for anyone to read. And they would no doubt say she was asking for it because she was on the game.

She sighed in exasperation, wondering if her private life would be exposed along with these poor girls’. It wouldn’t be the first time she had been the subject of the tabloid press’s scrutiny. Only this time she didn’t have Patrick’s strength to see her through it. Twice she had been the lead investigator on very high-profile cases, and even though she helped solve them, put the perpetrators behind bars, each time she had also been publicly ridiculed because of her alliance with Patrick Kelly. Until now, she had held her head up and accepted it as part and parcel of her life, and the people she worked with had grudgingly admired her stance. She had fronted it out. Now, though, she knew that Pat’s involvement in this investigation, however tenuous it might be, would be used against her. It was a different world to the one she was used to, and she also knew that if he was a part of this, then she had no option but to distance herself from him once and for all.

She saw the girl’s Versace handbag on the worktop in the kitchen, it was a Jekyll and Hyde, a snide, a good imitation of the real thing. Opening it she saw the usual; a purse, a few bits of make-up and an Oyster card. In the purse was about fifty pounds in cash and a photograph of the girl with her two small children. She looked happy as she gazed into the camera, a huge smile on her face. The kids looked even happier, were well dressed and well cared for, which was not unusual for the children of brasses. Kate remembered reading somewhere once that, contrary to popular belief, the offspring of Toms were better dressed and cared for than the majority of the so-called regular population Kate knew from experiencll working’s children.

Janie Moore had been a lovely-looking girl with two beautiful children, and now her life was over. Snuffed out on a whim. Her kids were left motherless, and her life left without meaning. No one would remember her as a good mother or daughter, or as a friend, all they would remember was
how
she died, and what she was working as.

It was bloody tragic. Like Danielle, Janie Moore would be remembered as nothing more than a victim from this day forward. Everything else about her would count for nothing.

Patrick was going through all the paperwork concerning the properties he owned. He already knew that another poor girl had been offed on what was legally his premises and he was once more trying to convince himself that he was not in any way responsible.

He had already had what he would describe as a full and frank conversation with Peter about his stupidity in trying to clean the flat after Danielle’s death. He’d now had to call in a favour to sort it out with the Filth. Kate would add that to his crimes. Peter Bates had been shown the error of his ways, thanks in part to Danny Boy and his persuasive personality. But it had been an eye-opener for him on a personal level.

Danny Foster was to all intents and purposes his manager, he was down on all the legal paperwork as the person who ran the businesses. After all, Pat was now retired. So any flak that might come in his direction would, in actual fact, be Danny’s problem; that was what he was paid enormous sums of money for. But it still didn’t make him feel any better. Danny was his fall guy.

Pat had always made sure that he was one step ahead of the game, that there was someone to act as a buffer between him and the law. It was what had kept him safe for all these years. He had been good for a long while because of his relationship with Kate, but once she had officially retired, he allowed his natural aptitude for a decent earn to surface once again.

It wasn’t even about the money, though that wasn’t to be sneezed at, it was more to do with the fact that he had felt alive once more. He felt the old excitement of the deal, had enjoyed being back in the world of skulduggery. Kate had made him happy, and he loved the bones of her. But he had missed the excitement of the life, missed the feeling of being a part of something. Danny Foster had done a good job as his number two, but it wasn’t the same. He had felt old, and he had felt bored, and that was something he could not get used to. Now his involvement in all this had backfired on him, and he had felt compelled to put it right, and he had done just that.

This wheeling and dealing was making him feel alive once more. All he had was his businesses now, he had neither chick nor child, as his old mum used to say, he had nobody to call his own. Mandy was long gone, dead and buried. He had had no one except Kate, and she wasn’t enough for him any more. She wanted him to be like her, settled and accepting, and he had tried. He had really tried to be what she wanted him to be. But now, as much as he loved her, he had to admit part of him was relieved at her going. He wouldn’t have to pretend any more, he didn’t have to convince himself that he liked the quiet life. She had chosen to walk away from the life they had made. She had been compromised, he understood that, but her anger and complete indifference to him and his life had only gone to prove that he had been right all along.

She had left him in a heartbeat and, in doing so, she had shown him just how much he had really meant to her.

He had smoothed over his ownership of the flats, and he had walked away Kate knew from experiencll working from the problem without a stain on his character or hers. But it hurt the way she had reacted, and he was not about to forget that in a hurry. She had always been the same, it had always been about her and her bloody job. Now she was a consultant, working for a bloody pittance just so she could keep her hand in, as she put it. She still had to go into that poxy nick on a regular basis, it was all she really cared about.

Now she had another big case to keep her occupied, it would be the only thing she was really interested in. He respected her for that, knew she did make a difference to the world. He understood she was only doing what she felt needed to be done. But he also knew that
he
needed something in his life as well. Now Kate had walked out on him, he realised that he’d needed more than she had been willing to give him for a long time. He had felt disgruntled for the last few years, had felt the heaviness of his age and his loneliness weighing on him. He realised now that Kate, as much as he loved her, wasn’t enough for him. Without her, he could do what he wanted, without fear or favour.

He was enjoying the prospect of having the freedom to do exactly what he wanted, having the freedom to go out and about at his leisure. She had kept her life right from the start, she had stayed on the force, and he had been happy for her to do that. Even though it had meant he had to change his life to fit in with hers. He had done that without a second’s thought. Now though, all these years later, he was aware of how old he was getting, and how little time he might have left to enjoy the money he had accrued, and the thought of that was terrifying in itself.

But worse than that was the knowledge that it had taken Kate just minutes to decide that her job was more important than their life together. She should have been willing to stand by him, no matter what she thought he had done. She should have had his best interests at heart, as he had had hers. It had been a real learning curve because he had been so determined to make it all all right for her, and he had done just that. Yet she had walked away from him without a backward glance. As someone had pointed out to him many years ago, once a Filth, always a Filth. Never was a truer word spoken.

Tammy Taylor was still very attractive for her age. She was tiny like her daughter, but she had a way with her, a way of holding herself that made her seem childlike. She had the same eyes as Janie, and the build was the same. But whereas Janie had looked what she was, a capable and strong young mum of two, Tammy looked almost ethereal, as if a strong gust of wind would knock her over.

She was still in shock at her daughter’s death, and her eyes were haunted, they were searching Kate’s face for some kind of understanding, and Kate knew she had nothing to tell her that would make the news any easier to bear.