Tainted Lives

by Mandasue Heller

  The machine beeped and the second message began. It was Jenny.

  ‘Hi there . . . Just thought I’d try out the number – make sure you weren’t pulling a fast one. Anyway, it was really good seeing you again, so, I’ll, er . . . see you soon. Bye.’

  As the automated voice told him there were no more messages, the mobile began to ring in his pocket. West grinned. Bloody hell, he was in demand tonight!

  ‘Hello, Mr West.’ It was Harry. ‘Sorry to disturb you so late, but I forgot to give you my mobile number when you gave me yours, and I thought you’d best have it in case you tried to ring me when I was in the shower, or something.’

  ‘Jeezus, kid,’ West laughed. ‘You been at the whizz, or something? Slow down.’

  ‘Sorry,’ Harry apologized. ‘It’s just that being here, and talking to you . . . It’s all kind of brought it home that I might actually see Sarah again.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you might be interested to know I could have a lead on her.’

  ‘Really? My God, that was fast! Where is she? What’s she—’

  ‘Don’t get too excited,’ West interrupted. ‘It’s nothing much, but I’ll be checking it out tomorrow. I’ll let you know if anything comes of it. Try and get some sleep. You sound like you need it.’

  ‘I’ll try,’ Harry agreed. ‘But I doubt I’ll manage it. Anyway, my mobile number . . . Have you got a pen?’

  Hanging up when he’d taken the number, West shook his head. The boy was obsessed. But there was nothing wrong in caring for your friends. The world would be a better place if more people tried it.

  Picking up the house phone again on this thought, he dialled the station.

  ‘Janice? Hi, it’s me. I got your message and it’s a great help. The Mullen women are my girl’s mother and sister – so, well done. I’ll treat you to a takeaway next time our shifts cross.’

  ‘No problem.’ Janice sounded pleased. ‘Anyway, you’ve got me interested now. Gonna tell me what it’s all about?’

  ‘Maybe when I’ve found her. See you soon.’

  37

  West scowled with disgust as he pushed his way through the bushes straggling over Maggie Mullen’s gate the following morning. After the best sleep in months, he’d made a real effort with his appearance and didn’t appreciate getting covered in leaf shite.

  Swiping at the slimy whatevers leeching to the arms of his jacket, he forced the scowl from his face as he rapped on the door. Maggie wasn’t the most cooperative of people at the best of times. If he wanted her to talk, he’d have to play it cool.

  Almost a full minute passed before a man opened the door.

  ‘Morning, sir.’ West flashed his badge. ‘Mrs Mullen in?’

  ‘Maggie?’ The man’s eyes swivelled nervously. ‘Er, why? What’s up?’

  ‘She in, or not?’ West adopted an officious tone.

  ‘Who is it, Rob?’ Maggie’s raucous voice rang out from the back of the house.

  ‘Guess that answers my question – Rob.’ Smiling tightly, West moved forward, forcing Rob to step back. ‘Through there, is she?’ Nodding towards the living-room door, he walked straight through.

  ‘Who is it?’ Maggie struggled to turn her head.

  ‘Coo-ee,’ West said, popping his head around the door. ‘Long time no see, Maggie. Been keeping out of trouble, have we?’

  ‘Who’re you?’ she grunted narkily. ‘What d’y’ want? I’ve got no money if you’re after ripping me off.’

  West drew his head back and walked into the room with a mock-offended look on his face.

  ‘Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me? I haven’t changed that much. I’m still the same gorgeous old me. Not come to you yet?’

  ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, recognizing him at last. ‘What d’y’ want?’

  ‘Fine way to greet an old mate.’ He tut-tutted. ‘No cup of tea? No “Have a seat, Mr West”?’

  ‘Fuck off!’ Maggie lit a cigarette with shaky fingers. ‘I’ll do you for harassment, if you don’t watch it. I’m disabled, me.’

  ‘I can see that.’ He shook his head in mock concern. ‘Sad how life stamps us into the shit when we’ve never done anything wrong, isn’t it, Maggie? I mean, you tried your best, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yeah, I bleedin’ did, you sarky bastard.’

  ‘I’m not being sarky,’ West protested innocently. ‘I mean it. The way you looked out for your kids, for example . . . How are they, by the way? Sarah and Karen, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yeah, so?’

  ‘Just asking. Nice-looking kids from what I remember. How old would they be now? Twenty-something?’

  ‘Dunno. I don’t keep count. What’s with all the questions? What you after?’

  ‘I’m off, Maggie,’ Rob interrupted, eyeing West nervously. ‘See you later.’

  ‘Oi!’ she squawked as he scuttled out. ‘Get back here, you cunt! I need me bottle!’

  ‘Oh, dear,’ West said when the front door clicked shut. ‘Have I chased your friend out?’

  ‘Get to fuck, you bastard!’ Maggie yelled at him furiously. ‘Coming round here sticking your nose into stuff that don’t concern you! Piss off! Go on . . . Get your stinking arse out of me house!’

  ‘Keep your knickers on,’ West chuckled, pulling a cigarette from his pack and lighting it. ‘What you so upset about?’

  ‘Me vodka!’ she yelled. ‘I’ll get sick now, thanks to you. Happy now?’

  ‘Knocked the gear on the head, have you?’

  ‘Yeah. Fuckin’ had to, didn’t I?’ Maggie snapped, searching beneath her quilt for her inhaler. ‘That friggin’ judge sent me to rehab. That or nick, he said, so I went for it. If I’d known they was gonna give me one of them things what makes you puke your lungs up if you so much as get a sniff of the smack, I’d have gone for lock-up any time!’ Finding the inhaler, she took several puffs then relit her smoke.

  ‘Christ, you are in a bad way, aren’t you?’ West affected sympathy. ‘How’s about I go and get your booze?’

  ‘Yeah?’ Narrowing her eyes, Maggie peered at him with suspicion. ‘What’s in it for you?’

  ‘We’re mates, aren’t we?’ he lied smoothly. ‘Us coppers can’t help but respect you street girls, you know. Especially ones like you who try your best for your kids.’

  ‘I did, an’ all,’ she muttered self-pityingly. ‘You wouldn’t think it, though, the thanks I get. Our Karen only comes round to have a go. And as for the other bitch, I thought I’d seen the back of her.’

  ‘Sarah?’ He tried to sound casual. ‘You’ve seen her lately then, have you?’

  ‘Yeah, the other week. Nasty cow only turns up telling all her lies and turning my Karen against me!’

  ‘That must have been a shock for you. What’s she doing these days?’

  ‘Fucked if I know. And I don’t wanna know, neither. Getting all kissy-arse with our Karen after what she did! She can rot in hell for all I care.’

  ‘How is your Karen?’ West decided to try a different route. ‘You say she comes round to look after you?’

  ‘Yeah, she’s good like that. Moans too bleedin’ much about me drinking, but at least she cares. The other one would see me starve as soon as look at me.’ Looking up at him now, Maggie licked her lips. ‘You gonna get us that bottle, then?’

  Smiling down at her, West shook his head. ‘Nah. I don’t think I should. Not if your Karen doesn’t like it.’

  ‘You bastard!’ she screeched when she realized he meant it. ‘You sly fuckin’ bastard! Get out! Go on . . . get out of my house!’

  ‘What’s all the shouting?’ Karen demanded, rushing into the room just then. ‘Who are you?’ She glared at West. ‘What’ve you done to her?’

  ‘Get him out, Karen!’ Maggie demanded. ‘He’s dibble, and he’s harassing me.’

  ‘Detective Inspector West.’ West flashed his badge. ‘I wonder if we could have a quiet word?’

  ‘About what?’ Karen snapped, folding her arms. ‘My mother hasn’t mo
ved off that couch in months, so I know she hasn’t done anything wrong. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave.’

  ‘You tell him!’ Maggie tugged on the back of Karen’s tight skirt.

  Slapping her hand away, Karen opened the door and waited for West to go through it. Following him into the hall, she reached past him to open the front door. Sticking a hand out, holding it shut, West looked down into her angry eyes.

  ‘I haven’t seen you since you were five,’ he told her quietly, ‘so I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me. But I assure you I know your mother very well. And what you heard when you came in, that was her getting mad because I wouldn’t go and get her a bottle of vodka.’

  ‘I see,’ Karen replied coolly. ‘Well, thanks for that, but I’d still like you to leave.’

  ‘I’m looking for your sister,’ West continued unperturbed. ‘Your mum reckons she came round the other week.’

  Narrowing her eyes, Karen said, ‘What do you want with Sarah?’

  ‘I just need to talk to her.’

  ‘Is she in trouble?’

  Frowning, West considered how best to proceed. He couldn’t make out that he was here on official business. Karen was hostile enough already and she looked the kind to make a complaint, in which case she’d find out he wasn’t authorized to be asking questions. And she was unlikely to respond too well to the story he had to tell – which, in all honesty, wasn’t her business.

  ‘So she’s not,’ Karen said, taking his silence as an affirmative. ‘Bye, then.’

  ‘Okay, I’m going. But could you tell Sarah I’d like to speak to her?’ Pulling a contact card from his pocket West handed it to her. ‘If you’d give her this, she can always leave a message and I’ll get back to her.’

  ‘And what should I tell her it’s about?’ Karen asked, snatching the card.

  ‘I’m not really at liberty to say. But if you could give her that, I’d be grateful.’ Opening the door now, he left.

  Closing the door, Karen looked at the card in her hand, then slipped it into her pocket, instantly forgetting about it when her mother shouted: ‘Karen . . . I need a dump. Bring us the pot, will you?’

  Tutting with disgust at the pathetic wheedling tone of her mother’s voice, Karen hung her coat on the banister and rolled her sleeves up. The bitch was going to be putting it on for England now, playing on Karen’s sympathies for all she was worth. Just what she needed with a potentially life-changing appointment to attend when she finally got away.

  Climbing into his car, West tutted. He should have said something to give Sarah a clue about why he was asking after her. The kid’s name, or something. He had been intrigued enough to return Harry’s call without knowing who he was just because he’d heard the name Starlight. But he couldn’t go back now. The sister probably wouldn’t answer the door.

  Lighting a cigarette, he crunched the car into gear and headed home. He was on duty, but he needed to decontaminate himself after spending time in Maggie’s filthy hovel. Anyway, nothing he was working on was so desperate that it couldn’t wait. Retirement was good for that. You got handed all the short-term cases so that you wouldn’t end up leaving halfway through something major and giving someone else a headache when they had to make sense of all the scattered pieces you’d left behind.

  Going into his bedroom with a towel around his waist a short while later, West heard his mobile ringing. Locating it in his jacket pocket, he tried to sound busy when he answered it, in case it was his Super trying to catch him skiving. He was surprised to hear Harry’s hopeful voice.

  ‘Have you got anything yet?’

  ‘Not really,’ West told him, amused by his eagerness. ‘I’ve only just come back from seeing her mother and sister as it happens, but they weren’t too forthcoming. Oh, but there is something you can help me with while you’re there. I saw an old friend of mine and Sarah’s last night and she mentioned that she’d seen her a few years back. Thing is, she reckoned Sarah was married to someone from Starlight, so I need to know as many names as you can remember.’

  ‘Christ. I didn’t think she’d want anything to do with that lot again,’ Harry murmured.

  ‘Yeah, well, she obviously changed her mind.’

  ‘I guess she did. Well, I’m not sure what names to give you. It could be someone she knew from before I got there. I was only there for her last year.’

  ‘Whatever you remember.’ West pulled a notepad and pen from the bedside drawer. ‘Probably best to stick to the relevant ages, though. I doubt she’d have gone for anyone more than a couple of years younger.’

  ‘No, she wouldn’t,’ Harry agreed quietly. Then, sighing, he pulled himself together. ‘Right, names . . . Well, there’s Vinnie.’ He spat the name out. ‘And his mates – Ollie, Pete, Rob, Jimmy and Ade.’

  ‘Surnames?’

  ‘Now you’re asking. Vinnie’s is Walker, as you know. And I know Ollie’s was Ford and Pete’s was Owens. But I’m not sure about the others. One might have been Johnson, but I’m not sure.’

  ‘These will give me something to go on,’ West said, jotting them down. ‘It might take a while if they haven’t got records, though. There’s a new system that’d tell me when they had their last fart, but it’s impossible to get into, so I’ll have to do it the good old-fashioned way. Let’s hope I find something in the next couple of weeks, eh?’

  Harry was quiet for a moment, then said, ‘I don’t know if I should be telling you this, but I can probably access that system you’re talking about.’

  ‘No chance,’ West snorted. ‘You might be a whiz, but this is absolutely foolproof. There’s all sorts of access codes and passwords.’

  Scenting the kind of challenge that he couldn’t resist, Harry said, ‘You’d be surprised, Mr West. All I need is the program name. Please? It’d stop me ringing you every two minutes.’

  West chuckled. He liked this kid. He was nothing if not determined, and he was respectful without being toadying. But there was no way he could share that kind of information with him. He’d be bollocksed for a pension if anyone found out. They were a vengeful lot, the police.

  ‘Sorry, but I can’t do it,’ he said. ‘You stick to what you do best, and let me get on with this, eh?’

  ‘No one would ever find out that I’d hacked into it,’ Harry persisted. ‘I guarantee it. Ever heard of Com-Knox?’

  ‘Yeah, course. It’s uncrackable. And it’s applied to the thing we’re talking about.’

  ‘Thought it might be,’ Harry said. ‘And it is uncrackable – to everyone but me. I designed it.’

  ‘You’re sending me up, right?’

  ‘No, it’s true.’

  ‘Wow!’ West gave a respectful whistle. ‘That’s some achievement.’

  ‘Thanks. So, now do you want to help me out?’

  ‘Can’t,’ West said, almost regretfully. ‘Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have the foggiest where to start. And I seriously wouldn’t advise you to start messing about. There’s no telling what tracers they’ve got on it.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Mr West,’ Harry said, understanding West’s predicament. ‘I won’t do anything to jeopardize you, I promise.’

  ‘Good,’ West said. ‘And do me a favour, will you? Call me Tony. It doesn’t feel right being called mister by a genius.’

  Putting the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on his door handle when West had rung off, Harry made sure it was safely locked. Then he set up his laptop on the bureau. Linking it up to his mobile to keep it off the hotel bill, he lit the first of a full pack of cigarettes he would get through in the next few hours and set to work.

  He might not have the access information he needed, but it was only a matter of logic. Codes and passwords came from human minds, and once you understood that, you were halfway to cracking them.

  38

  Carina got home at just gone two. She was nervous as she let herself into the house, having just had it confirmed that she was pregnant. She had no idea whose it was. She wa
s still sleeping with both Glen and Vinnie. Less frequently with Vinnie, admittedly, but still regularly enough for it to be his.

  She was torn over who she actually wanted to be the father. On the one hand, she relished the idea of having Vinnie’s child. It would be a very bonny baby with their combined looks. But what could she realistically expect of him when he’d made it clear that he was only out for a good time? He liked screwing her, yeah, but he seemed to have no intention of taking it further – yet. Glen, on the other hand, would be the better father by far. He not only had the money and the power, he was also a committed family man. But was that enough when it was Vinnie who made her heart sing? And who knew . . . Vinnie might do a complete turnaround if he knew she was carrying his child.

  Whatever she decided, she didn’t have too long to deliberate. She would start to show in a few weeks and then she wouldn’t be able to hide it from either of them.

  Carina was hanging her coat up when Glen came barrelling down the stairs, bare-chested and reeking of aftershave.

  ‘Where’s my blue shirt?’ he demanded.

  ‘Have you looked in the wardrobe?’ she asked.

  ‘Course I have.’ He marched past her into the dining room. ‘Bet you’ve shoved it in the wash with your stuff. It’ll be fucking pink by now!’

  Going calmly upstairs, Carina checked the wardrobe. Finding the shirt, she shouted to Glen and threw it down to him. Forcing herself to smile, she leaned her elbows on the banister rail and watched as he inspected the shirt’s collar. If she didn’t know him better, she’d swear he had another tart on the go. But there was no way she was going to accuse him and risk getting her head blasted off. He was getting more and more moody of late, and his temper was no pleasurable sight to behold – much less be on the receiving end of. Anyway, it was more likely the coke that was getting to him than another woman. He’d only done it at parties to start with, but it had become just about every day since that business with Dex Lewis in London. He’d brought so much of the shit home with him that no matter how much he shoved up his nose it never seemed to dent the amount he had left. She would have to have a serious word with him about it before this baby was born.