The Mark

by Heather Burnside

  THE MARK

  By Heather Burnside

  Born Bad

  Blood Ties

  Slur

  A Gangster’s Grip

  Danger by Association

  Vendetta

  The Mark

  Heather Burnside

  AN IMPRINT OF HEAD OF ZEUS

  www.ariafiction.com

  First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Aria, an imprint of Head of Zeus Ltd

  Copyright © Heather Burnside, 2019

  The moral right of Heather Burnside to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 9781789542073

  Aria

  c/o Head of Zeus

  First Floor East

  5–8 Hardwick Street

  London EC1R 4RG

  www.ariafiction.com

  For Pascoe and Kerry

  Contents

  By Heather Burnside

  Welcome Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Become an Aria Addict

  1

  2004

  The two women sitting side by side in the run-down Manchester pub couldn’t have been more different, so they made for unlikely friends. Maddy was an attractive middle-class woman in her late thirties, outwardly confident and self-assured. Her background showed in her clothing, which screamed of quality. She was wearing a neat top, pristine leather jacket and expensive fitted jeans that flattered her trim yet shapely figure.

  Her blonde hair was shoulder-length, lustrous and wavy but today Maddy had it in a loose chignon. The style emphasised her perfectly formed face with high cheekbones, smooth complexion and large cat’s eyes. She wore a light dusting of premium-brand make-up, carefully applied to enhance her striking features.

  Crystal, on the other hand, although only in her early twenties, already had a careworn complexion, which was overemphasised by cheap, garish make-up. Her messy bright red lipstick was paired with a darker shade of lip-liner, which extended beyond the natural outline of her lips and made her look clown-like.

  Likewise, Crystal’s eye make-up was heavy and there were thick clumps on some of her eyelashes where the mascara had clogged. Her eyebrows had been plucked to death then pencilled back on in a shade of brown that looked out of place against her intense, dark eyes. Even her hair let her down; it was overdyed in a lurid shade of red and was dry and coarse.

  Although it was growing cold outside, Crystal wore a short skirt displaying her bare, skinny legs, which were covered in sores, and the backs of her feet were red and inflamed from wearing plastic, high-heeled shoes. Her top clung tightly, exposing the mounds of her huge breasts, which were at odds with her skinny frame. She had obviously had a boob job, under the guidance of her pimp rather than her plastic surgeon.

  The Rose and Crown was tucked away in the back streets of Manchester where it had managed to avoid the redevelopment that had taken place in other parts of the city centre. Its dated, shabby décor and worn furniture were reminiscent of a previous era. Although close to the thriving main streets, the pub seemed a world away from the twenty-something revellers, hen and stag parties, and excitable young students who thronged nearby. This was the sort of place frequented only by those in the know and who were up to no good.

  Inside The Rose and Crown customers chatted, joked and struck illicit deals while a grubby-looking dog lay sprawled lethargically beneath one of the battered tables. The sound of Girls Aloud played quietly through outdated speakers; it was the pub’s only nod to the early twenty-first century.

  Maddy was sitting amongst a group of women who were dressed similarly to Crystal, their clothes selected for maximum exposure rather than as a defence against the chilly night air. Although Maddy’s clothing and make-up weren’t as bright as the other women’s, she stood out from the crowd, for Maddy had class as well as charisma, and a way of dealing with people that immediately put them at ease.

  Her ability to mix with people from all walks of life enabled her to gather information that others were barred from. This was part of the reason she was such a successful freelance journalist, who could command top rates of pay for her in-depth, thought-provoking articles and skilfully crafted features. Maddy was currently working on an exposé about the life of a prostitute. She had been in the pub for less than fifteen minutes but already the working girls were eagerly gathering round her to share information.

  Maddy knew how to build up their trust, starting with innocuous questions then ramping up the pressure till the questions became increasingly probing. Having already covered the reasons the girls had gone into prostitution, she moved on to other questions involving the life of a prostitute.

  ‘Have you ever experienced any strange fetishes from customers?’ she asked Crystal.

  ‘Depends what you call strange,’ said Crystal. ‘Some things are par for the course, like slapping, pulling our fuckin’ hair and coming in our faces.’

  Maddy tried not to let her repugnance show as she jotted down a few notes.

  ‘I’ve got a few customers who do that every time,’ said Ruby, a tall black girl with deep red lips, cornrows and tormented eyes.

  ‘What, you mean…?’ began Maddy.

  ‘Yeah, come in my face,’ said Ruby, casually.

  ‘And how does that make you feel?’ asked Maddy.

  Ruby shrugged. ‘I suppose you get used to it,’ she said.

  ‘There’s some real fuckin’ weirdos out there though,’ chipped in Crystal.

  ‘Really?’ asked Maddy.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Crystal, looking over at one of the gi
rls and laughing. ‘Remember that one you had, Amber?’

  Amber, a short blonde girl wearing a bralette and a black denim miniskirt with a zip running all the way up the front, giggled. ‘Oh, yeah. He wanted me to pretend he was my pet dog. I had to keep stroking him for ages. He got that fuckin’ excited that he came before we even had sex.’

  ‘OK,’ said Maddy, stifling a grin and taking more notes. ‘What about drink and drugs? Do you take them to help you do your work?’

  ‘Yeah, most of us,’ Crystal replied. ‘It helps, y’know.’

  ‘What about when you’re sober?’ asked Maddy. ‘How does it feel then?’

  ‘Shit!’ said one of the girls at the back of the group.

  ‘Yeah, that’s why we all take,’ said Ruby.

  ‘It helps to block it out,’ Crystal added.

  Maddy worked her way down to the next question on her list. ‘Have you ever caught any STIs?’

  ‘Not a fuckin’ chance!’ said Crystal. ‘I always use condoms. It’s just not worth the risk. Some customers will pay more for sex without one but I always turn it down.’

  The other girls muttered in agreement except for Amber, who kept quiet. Maddy suspected that the draw of the money had tempted her to go without, but she didn’t probe any further.

  Maddy was just about to ask the girls about violent customers when she noticed Crystal looking across at the bar. There were several men standing there with their backs to them so Maddy found it impossible to tell who Crystal was looking at, but she noticed the change in her body language.

  Where Crystal had been cooperative and willing to answer questions, she now looked uncomfortable. Maddy could see the way her limbs tensed and she guessed that whoever was standing at the bar spelt trouble for the girls. She chanced one last question.

  ‘How much of your earnings does your pimp take?’ she asked.

  ‘Too fuckin’ much!’ said Ruby but she was soon silenced by a shush from Crystal, whose eyes flashed across to the bar area again.

  Not wanting to find either herself or the girls in danger, Maddy quickly rounded up the interview.

  ‘That’s all for now, girls,’ she said. ‘Thanks very much; you’ve been really helpful. Do you mind if I pop in again another evening?’

  As soon as she’d fixed up a suitable time with the girls, Maddy stood up to leave, packed her notepad and pen away, then headed to the door, clutching her shoulder bag and jacket.

  *

  Gilly was standing at the bar of The Rose and Crown, sporting a black eye, which he’d recently acquired following a disagreement with a rival pimp. He was deep in conversation with Finn the Fence, a guy who could get hold of anything, from knocked-off cigs to expensive artwork.

  ‘What the fuck’s happened to you anyway?’ asked Finn, once he had exhausted all conversation relating to the stolen items he had for sale.

  ‘What?’ asked Gilly, suddenly becoming aware of his black eye and subconsciously pulling the peak of his baseball cap down further in a vain attempt to cover it.

  ‘Did someone give you a good beating?’ asked Finn.

  ‘Like fuck!’ snapped Gilly. ‘You wanna see the fuckin’ state of his ugly mug.’

  ‘Trouble brewing?’ asked Finn.

  ‘Nah, it was all over in a few punches,’ said Gilly. ‘I doubt the bastard will try it on again.’

  Finn sniffed. Momentarily silenced by Gilly’s hostile words, he glanced round the pub, his eyes reluctant to settle on Gilly’s swollen and discoloured face. ‘What’s going on with them lot?’ he asked.

  Gilly followed his gaze till he spotted a bunch of working girls gathered round a corner table. He recognised one or two of them straight away, even from this distance. They were his girls and, like Finn, he wondered what the hell was going on.

  ‘Dunno,’ he said. ‘But there’s only one way to fuckin’ find out.’

  Gilly finished the last dregs of his beer and slammed the glass down on the bar, then made his way over to the corner table. He was just in time to spot a classy-looking piece walking away from his girls and muttering something about seeing them again soon, before she made her way to the exit. God, what a looker! he thought to himself. She spoke well too, more Cheshire set than the mean backstreets of Manchester. Just what the bloody hell was she doing in this dive.

  He was soon standing next to his girls. ‘What the fuck’s going on?’ he demanded of Crystal as the other girls quickly dispersed.

  Although Crystal was of average height, the tall skinny frame of Gilly towered above her and she visibly flinched as he got up close. ‘Nothing,’ she said, pulling away as she tried to create some distance between them. ‘She was just asking us a few questions, that’s all.’

  ‘What kind of fuckin’ questions?’

  ‘Just about what we do, y’know.’

  ‘What is she, a fuckin’ copper or summat?’ demanded Gilly.

  ‘No, she’s a journalist. She’s doing an exposé about us,’ said Crystal, emphasising the word exposé, hoping it made her sound sophisticated.

  ‘Are you fuckin’ stupid?’ roared Gilly. ‘You don’t tell the press fuck all!’

  ‘It’s all anonymous,’ pleaded Crystal.

  ‘I don’t give a toss! I don’t fuckin’ pay you to waste time chatting with no fuckin’ journalist. Now get back to work!’

  As he hollered the last words, he slapped Crystal on the back of the head. Then he watched with wry amusement as she legged it out of the pub, trying to run as quickly as possible on her tottering high heels. That was the thing he liked about Crystal: she knew who was boss. He only had to say the word and she’d do anything to please him, anything at all.

  Crystal was the first girl he’d recruited, several years previously when he’d started out in his present line of business. She was all right as working girls went, and attractive in her own way even if she was a bit rough around the edges. Crystal had always remained loyal to him too; she knew better than to cross him. But she could be fuckin’ clingy at times.

  As he stared into the space that had been left by the group of women, he couldn’t help but wonder about the journalist. She was a stunning-looking woman, that was for sure, and streets ahead of any of his girls. She also had a certain way about her.

  He had noticed that, although she had obviously left the pub on his account, she didn’t seem frightened or timid. Instead she held her head high as though she was sure of herself. She was different in every way from the women he was used to dealing with, and he was intrigued.

  2

  Maddy was behind the wheel of her Audi. Sapphire blue and polished until it was gleaming, the vehicle was just as easy on the eye as its driver. She turned into the tree-lined road in Flixton where she lived. She owned a three-bedroomed detached house, which she shared with her eight-year-old daughter, Rebecca.

  As Maddy sped into the drive, she glanced again at the clock on the dashboard. 19:58. She’d just made it. Maddy was surprised that her first interview with the prostitutes had taken so long but at least she’d gleaned some good information from them and had managed to arrange another meeting, before the girls had all become nervous of someone at the bar.

  Maddy’s ex-husband, Andy, was bringing Rebecca back at eight o’clock and, although he was fairly easy-going, Maddy always liked to be on time. Thank God his working hours were flexible. It meant he could pick Rebecca up from school whenever Maddy had to work late. As she parked the car, Maddy put thoughts of her working day out of her mind. It was time to concentrate on family now and, in her line of business, it wasn’t always a good idea to mix the two.

  As soon as Maddy stepped inside her hallway she had that familiar comforting feeling she always got when she returned home. Like everything else surrounding Maddy, her home was immaculate and tastefully furnished. But it was more than that; it was a cosy home that felt lived in. She quickly switched on the hall lamp, which bathed the interior with a subtle amber glow, highlighting the polished wooden flooring, expensive rug,
and stunning artwork that hung on the walls.

  Maddy walked through the house, switching on the lights in the main rooms and plumping up cushions before flicking the switch on the kettle. She had no sooner pulled a mug from the cupboard than she heard the doorbell ring. Maddy dashed to answer the door, delighted to find her daughter Rebecca standing there with Andy by her side.

  Rebecca gave her mother an affectionate hug. ‘I scored a goal, Mum,’ she gushed before rushing indoors.

  ‘Everything OK?’ Maddy asked once Rebecca was inside.

  ‘Yeah, she’s fine,’ said Andy. ‘She’s been to netball club after school. They had a practice match and apparently she was the hero of the hour.’

  Maddy smiled. ‘Great,’ she said. ‘I must go and congratulate her.’

  ‘OK. See you next weekend,’ he said.

  ‘Yeah, see you then,’ said Maddy.

  Then she shut the front door straight away and went through to the lounge to find Rebecca. That was how it was with Andy now. After being divorced for four years, emotion didn’t come into it as far as she was concerned. They were just two adults sharing joint responsibility for their daughter.

  Maddy was well over those early days when their separation had torn at her heart. It had been difficult to walk away but Andy’s infidelity had left her with no choice. She was too proud to carry on with the marriage after that and knew that she’d never be able to trust him again.

  Nowadays they maintained a united front when it came to anything involving Rebecca whilst getting on with their own lives. Maddy preferred it that way and she knew that it was the best way to deal with the situation.

  Rebecca had already switched on the TV and Maddy sat down beside her, stroking Rebecca’s hair as she held her close.

  ‘So, you scored a goal, did you?’

  ‘Yes, and all the girls were cheering. And Jade Coulson said after the match that I’d saved our side from getting beat. Jade Coulson doesn’t normally bother with me much. She’s, like, so-o-o cool. I can’t believe she likes me now.’

  Maddy congratulated her daughter. ‘Well done, love.’ Then she smiled as Rebecca gushed about her day, listening patiently and offering her input whenever it was required.