Dancers in the Wind: a gripping psychological thriller

by Anne Coates

  “And what about the police?”

  Caroline gave her a withering look. “You just don’t know anything, do you? These people are beyond the police.”

  “How do you mean?” Hannah scratched the knuckles on her left hand, a sure sign she was feeling uncomfortable.

  “These people are powerful, believe me.” Caroline’s voice was even more gravelly.

  Hannah pondered this. Caroline was very naïve. She was probably easily impressed by men who wore smart suits and carried briefcases.

  Caroline sighed. She leaned forward earnestly. “These people, they’re judges, MPs, even a top policeman…” She paused as if waiting for the information to sink in.

  “Tom Jordan?”

  Caroline laughed, but there was no humour in the sound.

  Hannah wanted to ask more. How was Tom involved, if he was? Or did she just mean that any investigation of his would be quashed by his superiors? That must be it. Tom didn’t have a part in all this. It was too preposterous to contemplate. Only because you like him, said a small voice. Hannah shuddered in spite of the heat. Her hands were clammy.

  “I don’t know if Jordan’s involved but I’m certain one of his men is.”

  “Go on.”

  Caroline looked at her uncertainly for a moment. “Lisa was always talking about this copper called Don. She said he was a right prat, but he never booked her if she gave him a quick blow job. I used to keep out of his way, but I think Mimi and Susie used to give him one too.”

  “You’re not saying he murdered them?” Hannah was not as shocked as she might have been.

  “No I’m not. But he’s the link between them, isn’t he?”

  Hannah was silent for a moment. “But what about you, then? If you kept out of his way?”

  “I just got lucky, I guess.” There was no way Caroline could tell her that she’d deliberately set herself up in the hope of finding out more about the place where Lisa had been working. That she’d accepted an invitation to earn some big money. She sipped her coffee.

  Hannah would have liked to shake her. Why couldn’t she just tell what she knew and be done with it? “But you weren’t beaten up by pimps?” She asked.

  “No.” The hoarse voice was almost inaudible. “I got into a punter’s car and was taken somewhere. I was given a lot of money…” For a moment tears threatened to overwhelm her. The terror, the unremitting pain and violence she had felt and been exposed to then… She blinked rapidly and bit her lips.

  Hannah moved onto the sofa and put her arms around her. “Don’t say any more if it’s too painful.”

  “Look –” the urgency in Caroline’s voice caught her attention. “I’ve been writing it all down. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it yet but –” she looked beseechingly at Hannah – “if anything happens to me, I want you to have these notebooks. Maybe you can expose them through the papers or something.”

  Hannah had often wondered what people felt like when they said their blood ran cold. Now she knew. Fear left a nasty, acidic taste in her mouth. Four women had died. She realised now that the perpetrators may have thought it was five. Caroline, she was sure, had been one of their intended victims. But somehow she’d survived. Did they know this, and more importantly, were they looking for her? Tom definitely was.

  “And Tom Jordan? Is he involved?”

  Caroline shrugged. “I don’t know. The last one was,” she said flatly.

  “The last what?”

  “The last inspector at the Cross was involved in all the rackets. They got rid of him, but…” Caroline’s shrug was eloquence itself. “Even if Tom Jordan isn’t in it, he couldn’t do anything. Too many people high up would put a stop to him.”

  “But…” Hannah couldn’t finish the sentence. Her mind was racing. She felt sorry for Caroline, of course she did, but she was furious with herself. She had no right, as Elizabeth’s mother and sole carer, to commit herself to such a vulnerable position and she had no idea how to extricate herself. Whatever happened, she was involved.

  “Does anyone know you are here, Caroline?

  Caroline shook her head. “I’m not that stupid.”

  “And where did you go yesterday?” Hannah knew she sounded like an old-fashioned schoolteacher.

  “Streatham.”

  “Streatham,” Hannah repeated for no reason.

  “Yeah, it’s good for…”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that.” Hannah’s thoughts were darting off in all directions. “Did anyone see you there?”

  “No.” Caroline’s voice was sullen.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “And what about the other women working there? I thought prostitutes were supposed to fight off any competition on their patch?”

  A noise that was halfway between a laugh and a snort greeted that remark. Caroline grinned at her. “You read too much.” But the grin soon evaporated. “I was warned off, but trade was so good last night that no one was really worried.”

  “Well, I was.” Hannah’s statement did little justice to her emotions of the previous evening. “I think you need somewhere safer to stay. Somewhere away from harm and temptation.” An idea she had been flirting with blossomed. “I know a vicar…”

  Caroline almost spat her coffee. “You’ve got to be joking!”

  “I know a vicar,” Hannah repeated, “who lives in a relatively large village in Essex. It would be an ideal place and he’s used to waifs and strays.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound the way it did.”

  Caroline said nothing.

  “I interviewed him a few months ago. He’s a very kind man. Not a holier than thou type at all. In fact, his wife’s an ex drug addict.”

  None of this cut any ice with Caroline. “They’re a sympathetic couple and I know you’ll be safe with them. No one will think of looking for you there, there’s no connection.” She smiled at Caroline who had pulled a face at her. “And we’ll have to work out what to do about all this… this…”

  “Nothing! You’ll do nothing!” The girl’s voice was harsh, her face mutinous. “You can’t get mixed up in it.”

  “Whether you like it or not, I am involved and it was you who involved me.”

  Caroline knew she was right but had one last card and it was a trump. “Think of Elizabeth.” From Hannah’s face she knew she’d won – for the moment.

  “Okay, okay. I won’t do anything for the time being, but …” Hannah stressed the last word, “… but I want you to do two things for me.” She paused waiting for Caroline’s agreement. She nodded. “Firstly, I want you to photocopy your notebooks.” The girl looked perplexed, “I promise I won’t read them but we do need to have a copy in a safe place.”

  Caroline could see the logic of this. “And?”

  “And I’d like you to keep out of the way when Tom Jordan arrives.”

  “What’s he coming here for?”

  “To see me. I rang him last night when I thought you had been found dead. He doesn’t know anything about you being here and frankly I’d like to keep it that way.” For the moment, she added under her breath.

  “So would I,” said Caroline gathering up her bag. As she did so, something fell out and rolled across the floor.

  Hannah picked it up and turned it over in her hand. She froze. For a moment she thought the world had stopped spinning. It was Tom Jordan’s ring. Hannah tried to keep her voice at a normal level as she forced herself to ask the question she didn’t want to know the answer to. “What an interesting ring,” she said as casually as she could. “Where did you get it?”

  “Oh some punter gave it to me,” Caroline replied dismissively but she seemed in a hurry to get it back from Hannah. “Perks of the trade.” She laughed and at that moment Hannah would have liked to ram it down her throat.

  So Tom had lost his ring, had he? Hannah didn’t want to believe that he had given it to Caroline. But why would s
he lie? If she could prevaricate so easily about the ring, perhaps she wasn’t being completely truthful about other things. Oh, what the hell have I got myself into? Hannah just wanted to close her eyes and have the events of the last few weeks disappear. She watched Caroline walk out of the room. Was Tom one of her clients? Is that why he was so interested in her disappearance? It went against everything he had told her but why should she believe him? You don’t want to believe the obvious. And you call yourself a journalist.

  She would have gone on berating herself had the telephone not interrupted her. At the sound of Tom’s voice, she blushed crimson. Thank goodness he couldn’t see her.

  “I can be over in half an hour, if that’s convenient.” He sounded tired and out of sorts.

  “That’s fine, see you then.” The line clicked mid-sentence. And what have I done to offend him? she wondered.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Caroline had gone out – shopping or so she said – and Elizabeth was wide-awake and at her most enchanting. Hannah watched from the window and saw that the inspector had driven himself over in an unmarked car. At least that made the visit seem unofficial or, just less official. It had crossed her mind that she could be charged with obstructing police enquiries. Her thoughts were cut off by a sharp ring on the bell and there he was before her.

  “Hello.” Hannah smiled shyly. She was immediately aware of how rarely anyone came into her home. How seldom she invited people. For people, read men, said an insistent little voice.

  “Hi.” He looked absolutely shattered but his smile was warm. More than anything Hannah would have liked to trust him. And perhaps she would have confided in him – if only she hadn’t seen that blessed ring.

  “We’re in the sitting room but we could sit in the garden if you’d prefer?”

  “No, I –” His hand reached out and touched her shoulder, Hannah almost jumped. “I could murder a cup of coffee, if you wouldn’t mind?”

  Hannah led him into the sitting room where she’d left the baby playing on the floor.

  “Hello, who are you?” Hannah was surprised at the tenderness in his voice.

  “This is Elizabeth,” she said as Tom knelt down to take a tiny hand in his.

  “Elizabeth, that’s a lovely name, for a beautiful little girl. Is she named after your mother?”

  “No my closest friend. She’s a dentist working for medical charity in Africa at the moment so they haven’t actually met yet.”

  “A joy to come, eh Elizabeth?” Tom wiggled the tiny hand.

  Elizabeth was immediately won over and her mother left to make coffee.

  By the time she returned, Tom was sitting cross-legged on the floor entertaining a delighted little girl.

  He accepted the coffee gratefully. For a moment he looked haggard. “God, I needed that.” Hannah suspected he was referring to his little game with Elizabeth as much as the coffee. She knew how he felt. Babies grounded you.

  Although his face didn’t register it, Tom had been surprised to see such a young child. “Are you married?”

  The question startled her. It was the last thing she thought he’d ask.

  “No.” She rolled a ball back to Elizabeth not wanting to offer any more details. “Are you?”

  “I was.”

  “And?”

  “My wife died.” It was simple to state that now. What he couldn’t say was that she had been killed in a freak road accident and that his best friend had been in the car with her – both of them had taken suitcases. Tom had never found out where they were going. It had been a triple blow and part of the reason he had changed careers and moved to London.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Tom smiled and tickled Elizabeth’s toes. “It was a long time ago.” He stretched his legs and yawned. “I’m sorry I didn’t get much sleep last night, one way and another.”

  “No I don’t suppose you did.” She bit her lip, hating herself for the subterfuge. “The girl…” Her voice broke. “The girl you found wasn’t Princess?”

  “No.” He was watching her intently.

  “And why do you need to speak to me?”

  “Would you believe because I like your company?” He watched Hannah’s expression of disbelief. “No?” He raised an eyebrow. “Well, I do.” He made it sound like a declaration and his smile was warm and friendly.

  Don’t be fooled by this, Hannah told herself. He’s buttering you up. She remembered the ring and hardened her heart.

  “The fact remains,” he continued, “Princess is still missing and could be, presumably is, at risk. I can’t tell you the details but these murders have several things in common.”

  “One being they were all prostitutes.” You didn’t need to be a detective to work that one out.

  “Exactly, but there’s more to it than that.”

  “But why has there been a news blackout until now?” Hannah felt they were on safer ground here.

  “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, either. Classified information – and you are a journalist.”

  They were both silent, taking each other’s measure; Hannah forced herself to turn the conversation back to Princess.

  “You say Princess is still missing. Do you think she could be a victim of whoever’s doing this?”

  “It’s possible, well probable really. All the girls had been missing for varying lengths of time before their bodies were found.”

  “But why are you so interested in Princess?”

  “Who says I am?” He smiled in a way that she thought was probably used to considerable effect with other women. Hannah wasn’t going to allow herself to be so easily won over.

  “Well, you seem to be. You invited me to lunch to talk about her. You…”

  “Don’t be so obtuse.” He was laughing now. “If all I was interested in was your interview with the girl, I could have called you into the station or sent one of my officers round.”

  Hannah held his gaze and hoped he couldn’t read her thoughts, which weren’t exactly complimentary. She was convinced he was lying – or at least holding out on her. Caroline had his ring and he was looking for Princess, as he knew her. Maybe he was just worried that his very distinctive ring would end up on a dead prostitute’s finger. But why did she have it? That was the million-dollar question and the one she couldn’t ask.

  She was relieved when Elizabeth’s cry diverted her attention. She took the baby in her arms. Tom looked at his watch and groaned. “I’ll have to be off, I’m afraid. No don’t get up,” he said as Hannah looked about to see him to the door. He smiled. “I’d like to keep that image of you both like that.”

  Hannah’s wide eyes looked into his. He couldn’t be involved. He was far too nice and…

  “Oh, by the way, I nearly forgot to tell you –” Tom was standing with his hand on the door – “we found that friend of hers. That community worker.”

  Hannah swallowed hard. “Oh yes? Where was that?” But even as she asked the question, she had a terrible premonition that she knew the answer already.

  “Streatham. But he wasn’t very helpful. Rather a nasty piece of goods, I thought, still… I’ll phone you later.” He kissed his fingers and pressed them to her forehead and without another word was gone.

  Hannah sat where she was, outwardly calm. But her mind was a whirlpool of conflicting thoughts. She went over their conversation again and again in her mind and realised Tom had told her nothing he couldn’t have said over the phone. Maybe he had just wanted to see her as he’d claimed.

  Hannah closed her eyes. Sitting in the sunlit room with Elizabeth snuggled into her arms, it was difficult to imagine that another cruel, nasty world existed. One in which the Princesses and the Toms where inextricably bound together.

  It couldn’t just be coincidence that Caroline possessed Tom’s ring or that Tony had been discovered in Streatham just when Caroline had also been there. Both Tom and Caroline were lying to her. Of that she was certain. But why? Why?

  She opened her eyes at the s
ound of a slight cough.

  “Sorry.” Caroline looked contrite. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

  “You didn’t.” Hannah sat up straighter in the chair and looked down at Elizabeth who was mewing softly in her sleep. “I’ll just put her in her cot,” she said and left the room, glad of an excuse for any sort of action.

  She wanted to be on her own – a luxury these days – and decided the bathroom was her best option. Standing under the shower with jets of cool water beating down on her body, rivulets running between her breasts, her hair sodden, Hannah felt herself relax slowly. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.

  The sound of running water, birdsong and children’s voices coming through the open window, almost blotted out the click of the front door closing. But not quite.

  Damn! Thought Hannah. Where has she gone now?

  Reluctantly Hannah turned off the taps and dried herself. Then it hit her. Caroline was supposed to have rung before returning, as Hannah didn’t know how long Tom would be here. Had they met? Was she the real reason Tom had driven over here? Had Caroline been watching the house? Waiting for him to leave?

  She was just slipping into a loose cotton frock when she heard Caroline opening the front door. At the same time, the telephone rang.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  “Han-nah, hel-lo. Stuart Grain-ger here. How are you?”

  Hannah crossed her fingers hoping his call would mean another commission for The News. “Hello Stuart. I’m fine,”

  “Good. Are you busy right now?”

  “Not particularly.” Hannah held her breath.

  “Great! I’ve got something for you – if you can do it for us.”

  “Yes.” Hannah tried not to sound too desperate. She was totally unprepared for Stuart’s next question.

  “Remember that prostitute you interviewed for us?”

  “Yes.” Her voice almost betrayed her.

  “Well apparently she’s gone missing, disappeared and the police fear she may end up a murder victim like the other four killed at King’s Cross.”