Justice for the Damned (18 page)

‘What colour was it?’ interjected Reece.

The creases reappeared on Amber’s forehead. ‘Red… no, white. Oh, I don’t know. Anyway, what does it matter what fucking colour it was? Do you want to hear what I’ve got to say or not?’

‘Sorry, I won’t interrupt again.’

Amber took a long drag to collect her thoughts. ‘The bloke driving the van was about the same age as you. He looked harmless enough, so I got in. He drove out towards Grenoside. He was drinking whisky and he asked if I wanted some. I hadn’t been on the job long, so I was stupid enough to say yes. I only took a sip, but it must’ve been spiked cos the next thing I knew my head was spinning and I could barely see straight. The bloke pulled over. He tied my hands and blindfolded me. I was scared shitless. I thought I was as good as dead. But he didn’t kill me. He drove me to a house. When he took the blindfold off, I was in this huge room. It was like something off the telly, all posh furniture and paintings on the walls. There were other people there – men and women, but mostly men. I don’t know exactly how many. I was so out of it, it was hard to tell. Some of them were naked. Others were dressed in, y’know, bondage gear.’

Amber paused for another drag, before continuing in a voice deadened by years of exposure to the seedy side of life. ‘Herbert – I didn’t know that was his name until I saw him on the telly the other day – he was the first to rape me. His bitch wife held me down while he did it. Then his pals took their turns with me. They didn’t just rape me. They whipped me until I was bleeding. They tied rope around my neck and strangled me until I passed out. They tore me up with huge dildos. One of the bastards bit my right nipple so hard it almost came off. I’ve still got the scar. I dunno how long it went on for. It seemed like hours. I thought I was gonna die. But I didn’t. When they were done with me, the bloke from the van blindfolded me again and took me back to Rutland Street. He gave me a couple of hundred quid and threatened that if I went to the police, me and my family would be hurt. He knew my parents’ names and where they lived. He said the people at the house were very important people and that if I wasn’t afraid of being beaten up, they could easily arrange for me to go to prison for a long time instead.’

‘And did you go to the police?’ asked Reece.

Amber gave him that special look of contempt that people who’d been operating on the wrong side of the law for as many years as her reserved for coppers. ‘Course I fucking didn’t. This is the first time I’ve told anyone what happened to me.’

‘So why are you telling me now?’

Amber gave a shrug as if the reasons didn’t matter. ‘There’s nothing those bastards could do to me any more that hasn’t already been done a hundred times over. And, well…’ Her voice faltered for a second. A glimmer of something that might have been guilt came into her bloodshot eyes. ‘It’s been bothering me, y’know, thinking about what they did to me and what they might be doing to other girls. I’ve been wanting to speak to someone for a long time, but I never knew who to go to. No offence, but I wouldn’t trust most coppers as far as I could piss. Staci tells me you’re not like most coppers, though.’

No I’m not
, thought Reece.
Most coppers would be ashamed to be like me.
‘The Winstanleys are dead. I don’t think they’re going to be holding any more parties.’

‘This isn’t just about the Winstanleys. There are others out there like them, other parties at other big houses.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘Not much around here gets by me. I’ve heard things about what goes on at these parties. Things that make me realise how lucky I am to even be here to talk about this stuff. Things like how for the right money you can buy girls or boys of any age – and I mean any age – for sex or worse.’

Reece frowned, thinking about the vile DVD Jim Monahan had recovered from the Baxleys’ house, and asking himself,
What could be worse than that?
There was only one thing he could think of. ‘By worse, you mean murder.’

Amber lit another cigarette with the end of her old one. ‘Murder, torture, whatever. Y’know, for years there’s been rumours of a serial killer popping off girls around here. But it’s all bullshit. There’s no serial killer out there. That’s just what
they
want us to believe.’

‘Who’s they?’

‘Who do you think? The Winstanleys and all their very important pals.’

‘Do you know any of their names?’

Amber shook her head. ‘I was so out of it that night I couldn’t even tell you what any of them look like. It only came back to me about the Winstanleys when I saw them on the telly. I do remember the van driver. I’ll never forget that prick’s ugly little face.’

‘So what does he look like?’

‘He’s white, with brown eyes and hair. He was thinning on top back then, so he’s probably bald by now. He had a thin face and bad teeth. But what I remember most about him is he’s got this scar,’ Amber traced a diagonal line with her finger from her left eye to the right side of her mouth, ‘across his face.’

Reece’s heart was suddenly thumping. ‘Wait here.’ He hurried out to his car and fetched Freddie Harding’s photo. He showed Amber it. ‘Is that him?’

‘Yeah, that’s Freddie Harding.’

Reece looked at her in amazement. ‘You know his name.’

‘I saw his face on the telly a few years ago after he raped some poor girl.’ That same flicker came into Amber’s eyes. ‘I know I should’ve gone to the police. Believe me, I wanted to, but… well, I was too scared. Not just for myself. My parents are dead now, but they were still alive back then.’ She looked at Reece as if seeking understanding. He offered her none, but neither was there judgement in his eyes. He’d seen all too often how fear could erode trust, until a kind of apathetic paralysis set in. ‘To be honest, I’m still scared shitless,’ continued Amber. ‘But when I saw what that Kirby girl did, I thought to myself, if she’s willing to die to take those bastards down, then I should be too. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to die. But I don’t want these sickos to keep on getting away with it either. Enough is enough, y’know.’

Reece closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead. His skull was pounding as if he was hung-over. The recent spate of murders, the Winstanleys’ parties, Freddie Harding, they were all connected to each other, and possibly to the disappearance of thirty prostitutes. There was no way he could hold onto this information. He had to take it to the DCI. But how the hell was he going to explain coming by it without risking being brought up on charges himself? He could cook up some story for Staci to feed to his colleagues. But the last thing he wanted to do was put her in a position where she was forced to lie to protect him. If anyone found out they were in a relationship, not only would the case be severely compromised, but so would any chance she had of regaining custody of Amelia.

‘What are you going to do, Reece?’ asked Staci as if reading the uncertainty in his mind.

‘I’m not sure. I need to speak to Doug Brody.’

‘Who’s Doug Brody?’ asked Amber, looking worried at the idea of Reece repeating what she’d told him to anyone.

‘He’s my partner. Look, Amber, if what you’ve said is true—’

‘It is,’ she broke in sharply, angered by the slight challenge in Reece’s words.

‘Then I need to talk to my colleagues. This is too big for me to handle alone. Have you spoken to anyone else about this?’

‘No.’

‘Keep it that way. And try to stay off the streets for today at least.’

Amber pulled a face that suggested that would be problematic. ‘I need to earn, y’know.’

Reece knew – he’d clocked the needle track-marks on Amber’s arms. Such a habit was a ravenous beast that constantly needed feeding. ‘How much do you need?’

‘A couple of hundred should do it.’

Reece went upstairs and counted out the required amount from Wayne’s protection money. He returned to the kitchen and gave it to Amber. She looked at him uncertainly, as if unsure whether to be grateful or worried. ‘What do I have to do for this?’ she asked.

‘Just keep your head down while I work out what’s the best thing to do. Have you got a number I can contact you on?’ Amber gave Reece a number, which he entered into his phone. ‘And where do you live?’

Amber jerked her thumb towards the front of the house. ‘Just across the street. At number forty-eight.’

‘OK, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go buy whatever you need to tide you over for the day. Then you’re going to go home and stay there until I, or one of my colleagues, get in touch.’ Reece tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out twisted, more like a grimace. Smiling had never come naturally to his square-jawed face. ‘And don’t worry. You did the right thing coming to me.’

Reece’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. It was Doug again. ‘I’ve got to take this.’ He headed upstairs, putting the phone to his ear.

‘At fucking last!’ barked Doug. ‘I’ve been phoning you for hours.’

‘I know.’

‘So how come you haven’t returned my calls?’

‘I was just about to.’

‘Where are you?’

‘At Staci’s.’

Doug huffed as if to say,
I should have known.
‘I got a call from Wayne last night. He’d just got out of A&E with a broken nose and a couple of cracked ribs. As I’m sure you can imagine, you’re not his favourite person right now.’

Reece had guessed this was coming. ‘The bastard asked for it, Doug. You should see what he’s done to Staci.’

‘She’s one of his best whores. And you’re trying to steal her away from him. What did you expect him to do?’

A knot of anger rose into Reece’s throat. ‘I’m not stealing anyone. Just because she owes that bastard money, doesn’t mean he owns her.’

‘Yes it fucking does. And you’re her only way out. Jesus, Reece, you’re a copper. Can’t you see she’s using you?’

Fuck you, Doug!
The words pushed at Reece’s lips, but he didn’t let them out. Maybe Doug was right. Maybe Staci was using him. But he didn’t care. He loved her, and there was nothing he could do to change that. He thought about saying as much, but he knew Doug would probably just laugh and call him a sentimental fool.

Some of the harshness left Doug’s voice. ‘I’m only trying to look out for you, Reece. I don’t want to see you fuck up your career over this.’

I’m a copper on the take
, thought Reece.
My career’s already about as fucked up as it can get.
‘I have to go to Weston Park Hospital to pick up my dad.’ His tone was no longer angry, but there was a cold, distant edge to it. ‘I’ll meet you in the car park at eight o’clock.’

Doug sighed. ‘OK, Reece, if that’s how you want to play it.’

Reece closed his eyes, thinking about everything he’d learnt over the past couple of days. He knew he’d stumbled onto something huge. The kind of case that could have made his career – if he’d done it right. But when had he done anything right in his whole miserable life? He clenched his fists with frustration. His eyes snapped open at the sound of Staci’s voice. ‘Amber’s gone. Who was that on the phone?’

‘Doug. I’ve got to go meet him.’

‘Do you trust him?’

‘He’s my partner,’ Reece stated simply. He looked searchingly into Staci’s eyes. ‘Besides, sooner or later everyone’s got to trust someone. Right?’

Staci blinked. Her gaze dropped away from Reece’s momentarily. When she looked back up, there was concern, even fear in her eyes. ‘Be careful, Reece. This whole thing gives me a bad feeling. The people Amber was talking about, they’d kill anyone to keep their secrets, even a copper. Look at what happened to that woman detective. What was her name?’

‘Amy Sheridan. And that’s not going to happen to me.’ Reece smiled, and this time it came naturally. He wished Doug was here to see the look in Staci’s eyes.
Maybe then he’d understand why I’ve fallen for her so hard
, he thought, taking her hand, drawing her towards him and kissing her tenderly.

‘Do you have to go right away?’ she murmured, lifting his hands to her mouth and kissing his scabbed knuckles.

Reece nodded. As much as he wanted to crawl back into bed with Staci, there was no time. They headed downstairs. ‘I’ll see you.’

‘When?’

‘Soon.’

Staci held his hand as if reluctant to let it go. ‘Thanks for what you did last night. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.’

Reece kissed her again, then left. As he drove to the hospital, he held on to Staci’s parting words. Perhaps beating up Wayne hadn’t been the right thing to do. But he’d had to do something. And sometimes maybe something was enough.

Reece pulled over at a cash machine and withdrew two hundred quid to replace what he’d given to Amber. When he got to the hospital car park, he found Doug waiting for him. He parked alongside his partner’s souped-up silver Subaru. The first time he’d seen the car, Reece had said it looked like the sort of thing a drug dealer would drive. To which Doug had replied, ‘If it’s good enough for a dealer, it’s good enough for me.’ Reece had laughed at the time. He wouldn’t have found the comment so funny now.

Reece got into the Subaru and handed over the protection money. Doug began to count it. ‘It’s all there,’ said Reece.

Doug nodded an
I believe you
, but he continued to count.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Reece. ‘Don’t you trust me?’

‘Course I do. It’s Wayne I don’t trust. I wouldn’t put it past him to try and pass us counterfeit notes.’ Doug took out the cash-machine-fresh banknotes and inspected them closely. ‘For instance, look at these twenties. When have you ever seen a junkie with money as clean as this?’

‘I put those in there.’

‘Why?’

‘I gave some money to a woman who’s helping with my inquiries into the disappearance of Staci’s friend.’

‘Ah yes, Melinda the missing whore. I was just about to ask you how your search is going.’

‘There have been some…’ Reece searched for words that would adequately convey the significance of the information he’d obtained, ‘interesting developments.’

‘So let’s hear it.’

‘I went to see Vernon Tisdale. You already know about his theory. Well, he put me on to this guy—’