The Rubber Woman

by Lindsay Ashford

  Despite the grim look of the houses there were some very flash cars parked in the roads outside. She passed a red Mercedes Convertible in one street, and as she turned a corner a shiny black American import pulled out behind her.

  It wasn’t until she reached the turning for the main road that she got the feeling she was being followed. Pulling up at the traffic lights she glanced in the mirror. There was something familiar about the car – that big spoiler on the front. Suddenly she remembered. It was the Dodge Crossfire – the one that had pulled up outside the café last night. She glanced at the man behind the wheel. Even though he was wearing shades he seemed to be staring straight at her.

  She was sure this was BJ. Had he been watching her when she pulled up at Kelly’s house? Had he been waiting to see if she would go inside? She felt a stab of fear in her stomach. Had she made things worse by taking Kelly and her daughter home? She swallowed hard. At least if he’s following me, she thought, he can’t be doing anything to them.

  Despite the heavy traffic he stuck to her like glue. Every time she pulled up at a junction or a red light he was there. His lips were parted in a smug smile that showed his teeth. When the sun came out from behind a cloud a flash of light seemed to shoot from his mouth, as if he was firing some sort of laser beam at her. She blinked and pulled away as the traffic lights changed. Then it dawned on her. He must have a diamond in one of his front teeth.

  She thought about the way Jackie Preston had described the man who knifed her. She’d told the police he wore shades and had a local accent. Surely she would have noticed if he’d had a diamond in his teeth? And that car – it was so distinctive with those spoilers and the alloy wheels – surely it would have stuck in Jackie’s mind?

  They were nearly at the police station now. She wondered what to do. If she pulled up in the street he might try to get at her when she opened the car door. Was that likely, though? In broad daylight, outside a police station?

  She got the feeling he was just trying to scare her, the way he’d scared Kelly. He wanted her to know that he could follow her anywhere now because he knew her car. Whatever she said inside the police station, he would be waiting for her when she came out. So she’d better make damn sure she got Mullen on his case before she went anywhere else.

  When she parked the car he pulled in behind her. Her hand was trembling as she reached for the handle of the door. Her ears strained, listening for his door to open. She heard nothing but the hum of traffic in the main road up ahead. But as she walked towards the police station she couldn’t help herself. She had to look behind her, check that he wasn’t there.

  As she turned her head she caught the flash of a diamond behind the windscreen of his car. This time it wasn’t coming from his teeth. It was coming from a large ring on his right hand, which he was lifting from the wheel to give her a little wave.

  I’ll get you, you bastard, she muttered. I’ll wipe that bloody smile off your face.

  Chapter Eight

  Megan sat on a hard plastic chair in the foyer of the police station. There was a young lad of about fourteen, with a black eye, two seats along from her. He’d been sitting with a teenage girl and a baby in a pushchair, but the girl had gone outside for a cigarette, taking the baby with her.

  Megan stared at a poster on the wall in front of her, waiting for Sergeant Mullen to call her through. But she kept glancing at the door. She’d half-expected BJ to follow her in. She could just imagine him sitting in the chair opposite, giving her the evil eye, trying to scare her out of talking to Mullen.

  With a sudden, loud creak the heavy wooden door by the desk swung open. Megan saw something long and metal coming through it, then a woman’s head, bent over so that her hair covered her face. The woman was on crutches, her right leg in plaster. As she limped towards the glass front door, Megan went to hold it open. The woman turned to thank her and Megan saw with a shock that it was a face she recognised.

  It was Cheryl Parry, the woman she and Pauline had seen climbing into a car in the red light district last night. Pauline had said she thought her pimp had done that to her. And she’d said the woman’s pimp was BJ.

  Megan stared after Cheryl Parry as she hobbled off down the street. Had she come here to dish the dirt on BJ? And if so, what would he do if he caught sight of her coming out of the police station?

  Suddenly it struck her that BJ might not have been following her at all. He might have been on his way to the station because he’d got wind of Cheryl coming here to shop him. It could have been pure chance that he set off at the same time she was leaving Tracy and Kelly’s house.

  The door had swung shut but she pushed it open, stepping out into the street. She felt a strong urge to run after the woman, to warn her that BJ was parked just round the corner. But as she did so she heard her name called in the foyer.

  She stood rooted to the spot, her eyes darting to the foyer and then back to Cheryl Parry. Then, to her relief, she saw the woman cross the road. She was making for the taxi rank, away from where BJ was waiting. He wouldn’t see her. She was safe.

  Five minutes later Megan was shown into an interview room where Sergeant Mullen was sitting with a young police woman. On a table in the corner she could see something red and shiny with a big silver buckle in a see-through plastic evidence bag. The sight of it made her go cold. It was Pauline Barrow’s handbag.

  ‘You saw Cheryl Parry on her way out?’ Mullen raised one eyebrow as he spoke, not waiting for her to answer. ‘Right waste of bloody time that was!’ His eyebrow dropped and two deep lines appeared above his nose. ‘And it’ll be the same old story with Tracy Jebb. I’ve tried twice in the past six months to get BJ for GBH on Tracy.’ He rolled his eyes at the strip light on the ceiling. ‘I’ve seen it time and time again with these girls – we get to court and at the last minute they go and drop the charges.’

  Megan could feel the heat in her chest and neck as anger surged inside her. Pauline had been right. Mullen didn’t give a toss about those women. He’d written them off before she’d had a chance to say a word about what BJ had done.

  ‘Don’t you think that’s because they were frightened?’ she said. ‘BJ’s a very violent man – don’t you offer them protection when they come to you?’

  ‘We give them panic buttons in their houses, but they don’t use them.’ He shrugged. ‘They’re just mugs, these girls. We can’t touch BJ unless we get some hard forensic evidence.’ His eyes flicked across to the red handbag lying in the corner. ‘But I’m hoping he’s just dropped himself right in it.’

  Megan’s eyes narrowed. ‘What do you mean?’

  Mullen and the police woman exchanged glances. ‘When they found Pauline’s body there was something in her mouth…’ He tailed off, his nostrils twitching like a dog scenting a rabbit.

  ‘What?’

  Megan felt her own mouth go dry as Mullen told her about the condoms.

  ‘We’ve just had word from the lab,’ he said. ‘One of them has semen inside it. We’ll have to wait for a DNA result, obviously…’

  His words hung in the air. There was no need for him to finish the sentence. It was plain that he’d got BJ down as the killer. As she sat staring at his smug face Pauline’s words came drifting back into her mind: It’d be very handy for the cops if they could pin it on him. Mullen’s had him in his sights for weeks. Pauline had been talking about the Jackie Preston case, but she could just as easily have been talking about her own murder. Mullen looked set to finger BJ for the lot.

  ‘So in the meantime you do nothing?’ She held his gaze. ‘On the basis of a DNA match you might get, you call off the search?’

  Mullen’s face darkened. ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘But you meant it.’ She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. ‘God knows I’m all for getting BJ behind bars – the sooner the better – but shouldn’t you be casting the net a bit wider before you jump to conclusions?’ She saw his jaw tense. She knew that she’d hit a raw nerve but she
wasn’t going to leave it alone. ‘There must be other pimps who hated Pauline just as much as BJ,’ she went on. ‘I mean, the other night, some guy came cruising past us in a car with blacked out windows and hurled abuse at her. There could be any number of men like that.’

  She heard him take a deep breath. ‘And it’s a safe bet we’ll have all their DNA on record – so if it’s not BJ, we’ll know soon enough.’

  ‘But in the meantime some maniac could be out there about to kill again!’ Megan was trying not to raise her voice. ‘There’s loads more you should be doing. What about Pauline’s mobile phone? Have you tried putting a trace on it?’

  ‘Done that.’ His voice was tight and his eyes were fixed on the ceiling. ‘No signal – I should think it’s been chucked in the Bay.’

  Megan’s chair scraped loudly as she pushed it back and stood up. ‘I’d like to see Inspector Cameron,’ she said, her eyes flashing as they met his.

  ‘Oh?’ He pressed his lips between his teeth, making the skin go white. ‘Can I ask why?’

  God, isn’t it obvious? The muscles of her face clenched tight as she stopped herself saying the words out loud. She took a breath before she spoke: ‘BJ followed me here. He saw me outside Tracy Jebb’s house. He’s knows I’ve been talking to you…’ She trailed off. And you’re doing sod all about it, was what she wanted to say.

  Instead she turned to the young police woman. ‘Would you want to go home with a maniac like that on your tail?’ The WPC looked away. She glanced at Mullen, who shrugged.

  ‘I’ve told you,’ he said, shifting in his seat. ‘We’ve got nothing on him. Not yet. It’s a waiting game.’

  ‘Well I’m sorry, but I’m not prepared to wait.’ Megan sat down again, staring him out. ‘I want something done – and if you won’t do it I’ll go over your head.’

  Mullen turned to the police woman. ‘Look after Dr Rhys for me, will you?’ he said. Without a word to Megan he left the room.

  There was an awkward silence. The WPC had her eyes fixed on the table between them. At last she said: ‘Can I get you a coffee?’

  As the door closed behind her Megan’s eyes fell on the plastic evidence bag in the corner of the room. Pauline’s handbag, she thought. They’ve left me alone in the room with Pauline’s handbag…

  It was too much to resist. In three quick strides she was across the room. She dug in her pocket for a tissue, wrapping it over her hand to avoid leaving fingerprints. Fumbling with the evidence bag, she glanced over her shoulder. The WPC would be back any minute. She had to be quick.

  Snapping open the catch she peered into the pale, silky inside of the handbag. There it was. The thing she was looking for: a bunch of keys. There was a car key and two others. One of them had to be the key to Pauline’s flat.

  She fished the keys out and stuffed them into her pocket. In another couple of seconds the handbag was back in its plastic case and she was back in her seat.

  Her heart thumped as she waited for the police woman to return. What she had done was theft. She could get arrested if they found out. But if Mullen wasn’t going to do it, somebody had to. Going to Pauline’s home should have been top of his list. There could be all kinds of clues there: clues to who might have wanted her dead.

  When the door opened it was Cameron’s face that she saw. He gave her a polite nod and stood aside to let the WPC through with a tray of coffee.

  Megan fingered the keys in her pocket as she went through the whole story again for Cameron. She needed to get to Pauline’s place without having to worry about being followed by BJ. To do that she had to persuade the Inspector to pull BJ in.

  But Cameron was having none of it. He was a lot nicer about it than Mullen – all charm and very, very polite – but when it came to the crunch he was saying exactly the same as his sergeant: he didn’t want to risk screwing things up by arresting BJ without hard forensic evidence.

  The best he could offer was protection for Megan and the Jebb sisters. He promised to put a watch on Tracy and Kelly’s house and he offered to drive Megan home himself.

  ‘You can leave your car here,’ he said. ‘I’ll get someone to follow us in an unmarked car and you can borrow that for the next couple of days – at least until the DNA results come through.’

  She thought for a moment before she replied. It wasn’t what she had wanted but it was better than nothing. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Can we go now?’ The sooner she could get to Pauline’s the better.

  Cameron’s car smelt of his aftershave. It was a pleasant smell. Hugo Boss, she guessed, or maybe Calvin Klein. As he did up his seat belt she saw his eyes close up for the first time. They were deep blue and he had great lashes for a man – dark and thick.

  Was it guilt about taking the keys that made her feel so uneasy when he looked at her? Or was it something else? Something she didn’t want to admit to? He was very good-looking – she couldn’t deny that. But she was damned if she was going to let him charm his way out of this.

  ‘Your sergeant told me about the condoms in Pauline’s mouth.’ She turned her head towards him and he nodded. ‘How exactly did she die?’

  After he had explained she said: ‘Do you really think Pauline Barrow and Jackie Preston were attacked by the same person?’

  He glanced in the rear view mirror before replying: ‘Clearly you don’t?’

  ‘I think it’s unlikely.’ She counted off the evidence on her fingers. ‘Okay, one or two things seem the same – they were both stabbed and both attacks took place in the red light district. But Jackie was stabbed more than a dozen times in the face and neck. You said Pauline was stabbed just once in the stomach.’

  Cameron nodded but said nothing.

  ‘Jackie was attacked by a man who pulled up in a car,’ she went on, ‘but Pauline got a call from someone on her mobile.’

  ‘And whoever stabbed her didn’t do it in a car,’ Cameron agreed. ‘The pathologist said it happened in the alley where she was found.’

  ‘And another thing,’ Megan said. ‘Jackie’s attacker drove off without even waiting to find out if she was dead. But Pauline’s killer stayed around long enough to arrange her body and stuff those condoms in her mouth.’

  ‘That was weird, I admit,’ he said. ‘I’ve never come across anything like that before. I got a call from the pathologist just before I came to see you. He’d been checking Pauline’s gullet to see if she’d choked on the condoms. But no – he says they were definitely put in her mouth after she was killed. ’

  ‘It’s as if her death was some kind of sick joke.’ Megan glanced at him as he swung the car round a bend. ‘It must have been planned very carefully. But Jackie’s attack seems like more of a spur-of-the-moment thing – like someone losing it and just lashing out.’

  ‘I know.’ Cameron was shaking his head slowly. ‘And that description Jackie gave bothers me.’ He shot her a quick look. ‘Certainly didn’t sound like BJ.’

  Megan took a few seconds to reply. She was trying to weigh him up. She’d thought he was right behind Sergeant Mullen, but now she wasn’t so sure. ‘What worries me,’ she said slowly, ‘is that Sergeant Mullen seems to think it’s an open-and-shut case. So much so that he’s called off the search.’

  Cameron pulled up at a red light. He stared straight ahead, saying nothing.

  Why won’t he answer, she wondered? Is he just being loyal to a fellow copper, or does he know something he’s not letting on?

  Chapter Nine

  It was dark by the time Cameron got Megan home. After he’d pulled up outside he turned to her, his lips parting, as if there was something very urgent he wanted to say.

  The way he was looking at her made her feel strange. It was the kind of look Jonathan had given her the night everything changed: the night they’d ended up in bed together at his hotel.

  She blinked away the memory. A flash of headlights told her that the officer who had followed them had just pulled up behind.

  ‘I’ll get the keys off Chris,’
Cameron said, ‘and then I’ll see you up to your door.’

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ she said, ‘you don’t have to do that – I’ll be fine.’

  That look again. As if he wanted something more. Was it some sort of game? Was he turning on the charm to get her on his side? And whose side was he on, anyway?

  ‘Are you sure?’

  She gave a quick nod, avoiding his eyes. Then he was out of the car. By the time she’d gathered up her bag and got out he was back, holding the door open for her, the keys to the other car dangling from his fingers.

  ‘We’ll give it a couple of minutes,’ he said, jerking his head up at the flat. ‘Any problems, call me, okay?’

  With a curt word of thanks she took the keys and left him standing on the pavement.

  As soon as she opened the door of Jonathan’s flat she knew something was wrong. The light was on in the lounge. She knew she hadn’t left it on. Her eyes darted across to the sofa. A beige trench coat was slung across one of the arms. And there was a briefcase propped against the coffee table. Her heart thudded. Were those Jonathan’s things? There were flashy silver buckles on the sleeves of the coat. She couldn’t imagine him in something like that.

  A sudden rush of sound made her jump. It was coming from the bathroom. Someone had turned on the shower. She stood rooted to the spot. Should she ring Cameron? How stupid she would look if it turned out to be Jonathan in there.

  As her eyes flicked nervously around the room, she caught sight of a yellow cardboard folder on the coffee table. She stepped closer. There was a name in bold type across the top. Janie Northcliffe. Her stomach flipped over. It was the woman who had left the message on the answer phone: Jonathan’s old girlfriend.

  The heat of rage spread up her body to her face. She must have a key, then. After all this time she still had a key. And she’d had the cheek to let herself in and take a shower!