by M A Comley
“How long have you been working for them?” Hero asked.
“About a year. They took over the area from another pimp.”
“What happened to the other pimp? Do you know?”
The redhead sighed, clearly bored by all the questions. “I can only tell you what I heard on the grapevine. I have no idea if it’s true or not.”
“Go on,” Hero prompted, intrigued.
The redhead leaned in and lowered her voice. “The last pimp, Ronnie, didn’t stand a chance. He used to mouth off down at the White Horse how much money he was raking in every week. It wasn’t long before the Krull Gang got to hear about it. The next week, it was the Krulls who came to collect our money instead of Ronnie.”
“What happened to Ronnie? Any idea?”
She straightened up again and took a hard drag on her cigarette. “Don’t think your lot have found him yet. Again, it’s only hearsay. I heard they chopped him into little pieces and distributed his body around a five-mile area. Dropped the bags in rubbish bins, I think.”
Hero turned to look at Julie, whose face had turned a greenish colour. “You all right?”
“Fine,” his partner bit back at him.
“Did Sara have any enemies?”
The redhead thought about the question for a moment. “Not that I know of. She was just an ordinary girl, trying to earn money to feed her habit, like all of us.”
“Who do you think killed her?” Hero knew by the smile that crept onto her face that he was about to regret asking that particular question.
“Oh, hang on a minute, I’ll look into my crystal ball and take a peek, shall I?” She laughed loudly.
“All right, I suppose it was a dumb question. Let me put it this way, do you think this newbie had anything to do with Sara’s death?”
She shrugged, threw her cigarette on the pavement, and stamped it out. “The newbie or a bad-tempered punter is my guess, for what it’s worth.”
Hero dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a card. “If you hear anything, will you give me a call?”
The redhead took the card and shoved it in her handbag. “Might do,” she said as they walked away.
When they were out of earshot, Hero said to Julie, “Not sure it’s worth hanging around here to ask the other girls any questions. I think we’ll move on to the next area. Turpin Road, isn’t it?”
Julie took the map out of the folder and traced the roads with her finger. She nodded and put the map away again. “I think we’re going to get the same results there, sir, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“I have the same feeling. I want to show all the girls in this area that picture of the newbie. I know it’s not up to much, but one of them might recognise her. It’s worth a try.” He wasn’t prepared to voice his suspicions at that moment in time. However, his thoughts were ultimately leaning in the newbie’s direction as the suspect who’d carried out the crime. Again, without evidence, his suspicions counted for nothing.
On Turpin Road, Hero parked close to the few shops in the vicinity. Three girls, two blondes and a black girl, stood on the corner opposite the shops. As Hero and Julie crossed the road towards them, the girls started to look agitated. Hero smiled, trying to alleviate their fears. Hero introduced himself and Julie then asked his partner to show the girls the photos in the folder.
The black girl asked, “Is this about the girl who was murdered?”
Hero nodded. “Do you know anything about it? Like who did it?”
“How the fuck would we know that? We never go to that side of town,” one of the other girls shouted at him.
“Look at the photos. Do you recognise anyone? Have any new girls been in the area lately, looking for work?”
The black girl studied the photos, looked up at Hero and shook her head. “No new girls around here. They know better than to come here, mind. Don’t they girls?” She elbowed both the girls, and they all laughed like a pack of hyenas.
One of the other girls, a petite blonde, whose roots needed a fresh dye, was wearing the smallest skirt Hero had ever seen. “Hey, we’ve got rights to these spots, gov’nor. No one messes on our doorstep. If they try…well, you get my drift.”
Hero showed the photos to the other two girls. “Any of you seen her?”
All three shook their heads.
Hero knew they were wasting their time and decided to move on to the next prostitute hang out. It proved to be another waste of time, as did the final stop they made. At eight thirty Hero called it a day and decided they should go home.
He dropped Julie back at the station and drove home to his wife. He gulped nervously several times on the journey home as he practised the conversation he was about to have with Fay. It could go one of two ways, and he couldn’t decide which side of the coin would drop. Only time would tell.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Sammy the dog greeted Hero enthusiastically when he walked through the front door of his semi-detached home in Pendlebury.
“Hello, boy. Where’s your chew?” He smiled as the Rottweiler rushed into the lounge to fetch it. His tail wagged like a metronome as he ran up the tired-looking hallway. Hero eyed the flock wallpaper in disgust. How many times have I promised Fay I would rip it down and redecorate? Too many to mention, that’s how many. However, Fay never went on at him because she realised he was up to his neck in work or on duty with the TA at the weekends, when the home improvements should be carried out. Or he was getting home late from work, drunk, after downing numerous pints at the pub. It was time things changed. Seeing the way grief had affected Hartley had reinforced Hero’s need to alter his family life and to treasure the family he loved, because one day, they might be taken away from him. Then how would I feel?
He cleared the sudden lump that had developed in his throat and followed Sammy into the lounge. Louie the cheeky chappy, as Hero had nicknamed him, was sitting quietly alongside his mother as she tapped at the keys on her laptop.
“Daddy.”
Every time he heard the word, his heart missed a beat. Even though Louie wasn’t his biological son, Hero loved him as his own.
Hero bent down to kiss Fay on the forehead, then ruffled Louie’s hair and sat down beside him on the sofa.
“I won’t be long. Just typing up an instruction leaflet for a new recruit. I wasn’t expecting you back quite so soon.”
“There’s no rush.” Hero pointed at Louie and raised a questioning eyebrow.
Fay’s mouth twisted, and her eyes rose to the ceiling. She mouthed, “He couldn’t sleep.”
Hero pulled the child onto his lap and wrapped his arms around him. “What’s up, cheeky chappy?”
Louie rested his head against Hero’s shoulder and whispered, “There’s a monster under my bed. I saw him crawl under there in the dark.”
“Really? You want me to go and sort him out for you?”
Louie pushed himself upright, nodded sleepily and blinked his tired eyes a few times. “Would you? I asked Sammy to go up and sort the monster out, but all he wants to do is chew his rawhide.”
“I won’t be long,” Hero told his wife as he cradled the boy in his arms and headed out of the room and up the stairs. “Sshhh…we need to be nice and quiet.”
Louie pulled in a large gulp of air and held it, scared to breathe in case it would disturb the imaginary monster. Hero set the boy down on his feet and pushed the door to Louie’s bedroom wide open. He crept into the carpeted room towards the bed. Halfway across the room, he looked back over his shoulder to see what Louie was doing. His eyes wide with fear, the four-year-old was clinging to the doorframe as if his dear little life depended on it.
Hero lowered himself on all fours and crawled over to the bed. He eased the edge of the quilt up so that he could see under the bed. He had to fight the temptation to pretend that something had grabbed him, fearing it would scare the crap out of the child. Then Louie would end up sharing the bed with him and Fay. Instead, he sat back on his heels with his arms opened wide.
“No monsters there, matey. You must have scared him off.”
He rose to his feet, pulled back the quilt, and patted the bed. Louie let out the breath he’d been holding in and tentatively stepped around the doorframe and into the room. “Are you sure? Where did he go, Daddy?”
“I’m not sure. Sometimes, these monsters just like scaring little people. Once they’ve succeeded in doing that, they disappear.” He clicked his fingers. “I think you scared him as much as he scared you. Go on, get in. I’ll tuck you up and read you a story.”
Louie’s face lit up. He loved being read to. Hero picked up his favourite bedtime book, Peter and the Purple Dragon, and started to read it. Within five minutes, Louie was asleep, all fraught thoughts of a monster being stowed away under his bed forgotten about, for the night, at least.
When Hero wandered back downstairs, he heard Fay in the kitchen and went to find her. She was at the stove, stirring a pot with a wooden spoon. He stood behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist, and nuzzled her neck. “Mmmm…something smells good.”
She twisted her head and kissed his cheek. “Chilli con carne.”
He turned her to face him and draped his arms across her shoulders. “I wasn’t talking about the dinner.” His mouth closed over hers, and they shared a deep sensuous kiss that took both their breaths away.
“Wow! What did I do to deserve that?”
“You deserve a lot more than that for putting up with me.”
She kissed him firmly and pinched his cheek. “You’re worth it. You may have your faults, but I know your heart is good. Louie and I would be lost without you. Is all this because of the case you’re working on?”
“Yes and no. Seeing the grief this bloke is going through has made me appreciate how much you guys mean to me and how despicable I’ve been treating you both. I don’t want to lose you, Fay.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “Hero, you won’t lose us, ever. Do you hear me?”
“You say that now, but I know I’m guilty of pushing you both away at times. I hate it when I do it. The trouble is, I get so damned involved in these cases.”
“So learn to switch off.”
“I’m trying. Honestly, I am. Hey, I’ve been thinking, what about a holiday?”
“That’d be wonderful. We’ve never been away together. Where did you have in mind?”
“The Norfolk Broads. I thought we could take Louie on a boating holiday. I used to love going on the river when I was a kid.”
His wife appeared floored by the suggestion. “Couldn’t we go on another holiday? I don’t like water. I get seasick even when I step in a puddle.”
He kissed her temple gently. “Then, the decision will be yours. I think Louie would love it, and I really don’t think it’s anything like travelling on the sea. The rivers are calm, so calm you don’t know you’re moving half the time. You’re only allowed to travel at a maximum speed of seven miles per hour.”
“Let me think about it, do some research into what holidays are available. It’s getting late in the season now.”
Hero frowned and gave her a bemused look. “What? The kids have only just broken up for the summer.”
“Idiot! Most people book their holidays months in advance. You know, some people have organised lives, unlike us. Now, let me get on with the dinner. I’m starving.”
He kissed her again. “Yeah, me too. Only not for food.”
She playfully slapped his arm and pushed him away.
Hero sat down at the kitchen table and watched his wife prepare their meal. In his mind, he planned out what he was going to say to her over dinner. He thought the talk they’d had the other day would have put their lives back on the right track. However, going to the pub to socialise with his team the night before had already derailed his vow to try harder. Visiting Rupert and seeing how distraught he still was, almost a week after his wife and son had died, had reinforced his need to pull his family together and start afresh. As an aside, he wondered how long Rupert would have to suffer. Could one ever put a time limit on grief?
“Penny for them?” Fay broke in to his contemplation.
“Just thinking.”
He smiled and studied her pretty face, the endearing features that had attracted him three years ago when they had met at the supermarket checkouts. She had been struggling to cope with a crying Louie and placing her goods on the conveyor belt. Being a gentleman, he’d helped her out. The following week, he made sure he was at the supermarket at the same time, just in case he bumped into her again, which he did. After noticing that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring, he plucked up the courage to speak to her and ask her out. He didn’t care that she had a child in tow. They had an instant attraction that proved hard to ignore. Their dating had consisted of family days out to the zoo, instead of him wining and dining her at fancy restaurants. They hit it off so well that Fay and Louie had moved into his flat within three months of that first meeting.
Hero had surprised Fay by purchasing their three-bed semi a year later. The house was in dire need of decorating, but neither one of them had the time to get involved in it. Fay worked from home four days a week as a recruitment officer. On the odd occasion when she had to meet a client out of school hours, her mother Deirdre cared for Louie. Luckily, that didn’t happen too often since Fay was adamant she would always put her son first and had made a promise to herself years before that she would never let her work interfere with his upbringing. If it came down to a choice between her son or her career, Louie would win hands down every single time. That’s what Hero loved about Fay—the fact that she put her family first. But that was the foundation of his own guilt, at times, and correcting that issue was at the forefront of his mind.
Fay dished up the chilli and rice, and they shared a bottle of Chianti with their meal before they snuggled up on the sofa and chatted.
The first topic they discussed was Hero’s idea for a holiday, and then the conversation drifted into Hero making a pledge that his after-work activities down at the pub were drawing to an end.
“Why?” Fay asked, sitting upright next to him.
“Because…well, I want to put you and Louie first for a change. I really don’t know how you put up with me never being here, what with my involvement with the TA at the weekends, as well. I’ve been an absent father for far too long, and I’m calling a halt to it.”
“I’m going to say this once, and once only, Hero. Louie is my responsibility, not yours. I’ve never once thought you were letting us down by not being here every night. I totally understand how stressful your job is and the need for you to unwind at the end of a shift. I couldn’t handle dealing with dead bodies every day and not let it affect me. Yes, we’re a family, but ultimately, Louie’s upbringing lies at my door not yours. You hear me?”
“I hear you. I’d be foolish to argue with you when you put it like that. Nonetheless, I’ve come to a decision, and I intend sticking to it. From now on, I promise to be home at a reasonable time every evening, the only exception to that would be if I have enforced overtime. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to keep up with my TA duties at the weekend. It helps put perspective back in my life. Although, I could cut back on that side of things if you wanted me to.”
“No. Don’t you dare! I know how much the army means to you. As for coming home every night at a reasonable hour, if that’s what you really want, then who am I to stop you? It’ll be novel having you around at night to help put Louie to bed. He loves you reading his bedtime story.” She leaned forward and gave him a deep loving kiss that made them both moan with desire.
Hero pushed her away gently and stood up. When he held out his hand, she took it, and they made their way upstairs to the bedroom.
• • •
The night was colder than she had anticipated. She switched off the moped engine and pushed it to the end of the next road. Through the helmet’s visor, she watched the members of the Krull Gang leap into action. She had followed them to this quiet road in
Didsbury, a well-to-do suburb of Manchester, sensing their intentions were anything but honourable. She wanted to see for herself just how vile these so-called men could be.
It was obvious who was in charge by the swagger in his walk and the way he kept pointing at the other teens, issuing orders to them.
She crept to a safe corner and settled down in a crouch to view the gang’s activities. The four youths began at the far end of the road and worked their way up towards where she was spying on them. Every now and again, she looked over her shoulder to ensure her getaway route remained clear. She had made sure she was wearing suitable attire, so she wore jeans and a sweatshirt rather than the designer clothes she had worn the night she had killed the prostitute. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head to ward off the chill rushing past her.
At the bottom of the road, the four youths flitted from one side of the road to the other. They carried something in their hands, but the distance was too great for her to make out what they were holding. She was perplexed by their actions. Why are they moving between the cars like that?
After a few minutes, the gang stopped at the end of the row of cars approximately twenty feet in front of her, then high-fived each other, appearing to congratulate themselves. They looked back down the road. She shuffled forward a little to gain a better view, but she grew frustrated when she couldn’t see anything. What am I missing? What the fuck are they so triumphant about?
She saw a dull light at the bottom of the road. She gasped and placed a hand tightly over her mouth when she realised the light was a tiny purple-and-orange flame. Within seconds, the flame had zigzagged back and forth across the road. The gang members were laughing wildly. Her heart pounded so hard that she thought she could hear it beating a panicked rhythm. She turned to look behind her, tempted to jump on her moped and get the hell out of there, but the temptation to see what the gang got up to next made her stay.
Suddenly, a loud bang filled the air, and orange flames lit up the night sky. The gang did another round of high-fives and then turned to observe the next car in line, which was parked on the opposite side of the road, go up in flames. With the area well lit, she feared that she might be discovered at any moment. After three more cars went up in flames, she ran back to her moped and quickly left, thankful that neither of the youths had seen her driving away. She thought about stopping at the nearest phone box to ring the fire brigade, but figured one of the residents would have already done so. She continued on her journey, shaking her head at the sheer audacity of the gang to carry out such an awful crime. They care so little about other people’s possessions, why? Was it all in the name of entertainment?