by Mary Birk
“I’ll wait.”
“If you need to leave, I’ll let her know.”
Allison emerged from Reid’s office, a big smile on her face, and headed toward Michaud. She grabbed her handbag and gave Harry and the rest of the team a little wave. “I’ll be back.”
After the door closed behind them, Harry kept his voice casual, addressing himself to Frank who was at his desk punching in some commands on his keyboard. “Does Allison seem different lately?”
Frank studied him. “In what way?”
“I don’t know. Seems like a lot of blokes are calling her, coming around. Other cops.”
“That’s nothing new.”
“Like this?”
“On and off. None of them last very long, though. Except Ian. He wasn’t a cop, but he was around for a while.” Frank wheeled to the printer, retrieved a stack of papers. “She’s pretty and single and the police force is largely male and randy. What do you expect?”
Harry did what he thought would be expected, and grinned. “Our little Allison, who would have thought?”
Chapter 41
ALLISON LOOKED beyond livid when she returned from lunch. She threw her purse down on her desk and stormed around to Harry’s desk.
“You wanker! What the bloody hell did you tell him?”
Harry pretended to study some papers on his desk, then looked up at her in innocent surprise. “Who?”
“Eddie?”
“What do you mean?”
“What did you tell Eddie about me?”
“What did he say I said?”
She narrowed her eyes at him and hissed. “I need to talk to you in private.”
“Sorry, sweetcakes, no can do. I’m working right now.”
“Don’t call me that.”
He raised an eyebrow, and she blushed.
She turned to Frank. “What did he say to Eddie?”
Frank fixed his eyes on Harry. “The conference room is open. Why don’t you and Allison go have a chat?”
Allison nodded and gestured to Harry, who walked casually behind her, closing the door after himself. He pulled out one of the chairs and sat down, reared the chair back on two legs, leaning it against the wall. She faced the opposite wall, and he could tell she was trying to get control of herself. He tried to figure out how much, if anything, Michaud would have told her. If Michaud hadn’t been specific, he could bluff his way out.
“Are you going to tell me what I’m supposed to have done, pet?”
She turned around, and he was surprised to see that, even though she obviously wanted to be mad, she was having a hard time keeping a straight face. “Obnoxious if I drink at midday? Expensive tastes? Two-hour lunches with one of the boys from CID headquarters? What goes on in your mind?”
“He said I told him that?” Harry tried to look shocked.
“He said you told him to order me something cheap and to get me back quickly so I don’t lose my job.”
“He must have misunderstood what I said.”
“What exactly did you say?”
“What I meant to say was that as you hadn’t had a chance to get to a clinic and get on birth control, he shouldn’t take you to his flat and try to shag you, and that if he gave you booze, maybe your judgment wouldn’t be as good as it usually is, and you’d both end up parents before you intended. Is that what he said I said?”
She looked at him, aghast. “No, and I sincerely hope you didn’t.”
“Maybe he’s right. Maybe I did say that about the booze at lunch and the expensive tastes and the two-hour lunches. But I meant the other. I thought you’d be annoyed if I told him about the birth control problem.”
She let out a huge breath. “You idjit.”
“Maybe, but his flat’s only ten minutes from here.”
She flopped down on the chair next to him, then tilted her chair back, mimicking what he was doing with his own chair. “I wondered what you were up to, you goon.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I said you thought you were funny.”
“Good save.” He needed to change the subject while she wasn’t thinking of killing him anymore. “Want to go with me to meet Lily White?”
“I wouldn’t miss it. Right now?” Allison turned to look at him, and lost her balance. Her chair started to fall backwards. Harry jumped up, caught her chair, and pulled her off it just before both their chairs went crashing to the floor.
He held Allison close for a moment before releasing her quickly, giving her a slight push to get some distance between them.
“Next time, if you lean it back that far, make sure you’re close to the wall.”
Allison looked shaken. “Thanks for catching me.”
“We’re short-handed enough as it is without you cracking your head open. I’m leaving in ten minutes to talk to Lily White. If you want to come, be ready.” He opened the conference room door and walked out.
* * * * *
Thoughts flitted through Tabby’s mind about what had happened to her since she came here, while she tried to decide how she felt about it. She wasn’t being mistreated, in fact, they treated her very well. She still didn’t know what to think about Peter’s involvement in her abduction. It didn’t make sense for him to have sent her here, but he had to have been involved. Maybe Claudia had found out and made him do it.
The woman visited her periodically, taking care of her, massaging her, and well, touching her. And she loved the drugs. Maybe she’d get more soon. Tabby looked up at the camera in the corner of the ceiling. She was being watched, maybe recorded, but she didn’t care. She liked having an audience.
The door opened, and the woman came in, wearing the black hood that covered her face but left her mouth exposed. “Hello, my good girl. Time to make another film.”
“Do I get another shot?”
“Not yet. Do a really good job, though, and afterwards, I’ll give you a jab.”
Tabby made two films before she and the woman were alone, and she got her shot. The drug relaxed her, perhaps too much, and the words came out of her mouth before she knew what she was doing.
“What if I’m not a virgin?”
* * * * *
Allison skewed her eyes over at Harry. He hadn’t said a word since they got in the car, and only grunted when she tried to start a conversation, totally unlike his usually garrulous self. Maybe he and Rita had had a fight. She’d heard him moving around upstairs when she’d gotten home last night, and she was pretty sure he didn’t have anyone with him. His dates usually left some sign downstairs: their shoes, or coat, or purse. Besides, he was gone by seven this morning, and she’d not heard any sounds of him getting his date out the door.
She decided on the direct approach. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“You’re not listening to anything I say.”
“I’m listening. I just didn’t have anything to say back.”
“Okay then, you say something first.”
“We have to talk?”
“Yeah, we do.”
“What did you have for lunch?” Harry’s eyes were on the road.
“Prawn curry.”
“Good?”
“Not bad. What’d you do for lunch?”
“I didn’t.”
“Want to stop and get something on the way?” Maybe he was hungry, and that was why he was so snarky.
“Nah. I want to get this interview done.”
“We can make a quick stop.” She didn’t know if she could stand it if he was like this all afternoon. She’d buy the bloody sandwich herself. “There’s a sandwich place right there. Pull over and I’ll run in. What do you want?”
He shrugged, looking like a pouting kid.
“I’ll get you an Italian combo.”
He nodded and pulled over to the curb.
When she got back in the car, she handed him the sandwich, salt and vinegar crisps, and a cup of tea. “Change sides with me. I’ll drive,
and you eat.”
By the time they got to the address on file where Lily White was doing business, Harry had eaten and was acting more normal. She handed him a napkin and motioned to the side of his mouth where he had a piece of shredded lettuce.
He wiped it off, looked at her, she nodded, and they got out.
Harry knocked on the flat marked S.B.
Allison mouthed, “S.B.?”
He whispered. “Sandra Bennett. Lily White’s her game name.”
The door was opened with a chain securing it and a waif-like girl in jeans and an over-sized white t-shirt that didn’t conceal her braless state, appeared in the crack. She rolled her eyes, made him for a cop right away. “Yeah, what do you want?”
“Just a bit of a chat.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“No one said you did, Lily.”
She started closing the door. “There’s no Lily here.”
“Come on, Sandy. Your pretty picture’s all over the internet.” He pulled out a flyer with the girl in her teenybopper outfit, and held it up for her to see.
She didn’t open the door any wider, but she didn’t close it all the way, either. “What do you want?”
“As I said, a bit of a chin wag, that’s all, luv.” He grinned at the girl. “A moment or two of time with your lovely self.”
Allison kept back a smile. The feathers would come off this bird soon; Harry was in full haver mode.
The girl gave a small, wary smile. “What about?”
“We’ve got one of your boyfriends kitted up for some nasty business to do with a young girl who’s been murdered. You may have seen it on the news. Lizzie Frost.”
Lily-Sandra frowned. “Was she on the game?”
“No, she was a nanny in his house. An American lassie.”
“Oh, yeah. I saw that. Who’s the punter?” She caught herself. “I mean, the name of my,” she smiled at Harry, “boyfriend.”
“Can we come in, luv? I hate to have these kinds of chats on the doorstep.”
She unfastened the chain, fluffed up her hair, and smiled. “I’ve not had a chance to fix my face yet.” Then the girl saw Allison standing behind Harry, and scowled. “Who’s she?”
Harry moved in past the door. “This is DC Muirhead. I’m DS Ross.” Again, he gave her the grin. “Harry Ross.”
“You might as well sit down.” She sat on a tatty brown sofa, one leg folded up under her. Allison took one of the orange plastic chairs that completed the bedsit’s lounge-area decor, while Harry sat on the other side of the sofa.
“Thanks, Sandy. Okay to call you that, or is it Sandra?”
Allison kept her mouth shut. This was Harry’s show. Prozzies loved him.
“Sandy’s good.” The girl pulled the t-shirt away from her body, and the erstwhile visible nipples disappeared. “What’s the guy’s name?”
“Douglas Gunderson.” He showed her a photo.
Sandy took it, studied it, and nodded.
“You know him?”
“I’ve dated him.”
“When’s the last time?”
She thought, touching a finger to her lip. “Sunday. Early morning.”
“Long-time boyfriend?”
She nodded.
“Since when?”
“Two years?”
“How often?”
“About once a week.”
“I always hate to ask a lady this next question.”
Sandy smiled. “Go on. If it’s too personal, I’ll tell you to fuck off.”
“I’m sure of it. How old are you, luv?”
“Not a good question. You’ll want to send me off to family services.”
“Under sixteen?”
“I’m not going in. I’m doing fine on my own.”
“Under fifteen?”
“I’m fifteen.”
“As of when?”
“Last month.”
“He says there were some films of him and you that some tough guys were threatening to show his wife.”
Sandy pursed her lips, but didn’t say anything.
“I’m not looking to blame you. Just trying to confirm his story. Were there films of the two of you?”
“Yeah.”
“How many?”
“A lot. It wasn’t my idea to do the films. Or to tell his old lady.”
“Did he know how old you were?”
“I told him the truth the first time he came.”
“Which was?”
“Thirteen.”
Harry nodded slowly. “Treat you all right, did he?”
Sandy shrugged. “He likes to play Daddy.”
“What’s he want you to play?”
“He likes me to be naughty.” She laughed. “Want me to show you?” Then she seemed to remember Allison, and made a face like she’d been caught out. “Oops, did I get you in trouble? This your old lady?”
Allison felt herself redden.
Harry wiggled his eyebrows at Sandy. “Do I look that lucky?”
Even Allison laughed at that, but when Sandy stopped giggling, she studied Allison.
“Maybe.”
“Alas, this ugly mug is still unclaimed.”
Sandy folded her other leg underneath her. “I suppose you’d need to wait for a girl to be sixteen, beings as you’re, excuse the expression, the filth. Next March, give me a call.”
“Being the filth, as you say, ties my hands. Sandy, there’s a few other gents I wanted to ask you about.” He took out five snapshots, handed them to her. “Ever date any of these?”
Allison tried to hide her shock. Along with the photos of Mac Webster, Tim Brighton, Paul Kingsley, and Peter MacTavish, was a photo of the guv.
Sandy studied the snaps, separated them into two piles. “These three, yes.” Brighton, Webster, and Kingsley. “These other two, no.” Peter MacTavish and the Superintendent. She tapped the photo of Reid. “I know who that is, though.” She gestured to a tabloid sitting on the cheap coffee table. “I’ve seen his photo in some of these rags. He’s got his hands full with his own old lady, I’d say. That American bird. But I’d not turn him down, if he’s on offer.”
“Don’t think he is. Were there films of you and those other blokes you dated?”
She nodded.
“You have copies?”
“Not a one.”
“Who were the blokes that filmed you and your boyfriends?”
“Sorry, luv, if I could tell you and live, I would.”
Harry pulled out the photo of Lizzie’s kidnapper. “Is this one of the men doing the blackmail?”
She glanced down, then back up at Harry. “You trying to get me killed?”
“You recognize him.”
“I’m not saying.” But she gave a slight nod.
“Does he manage your career?”
“No.”
“Who does?”
“Another bad question. Can’t answer that one, either.” she shrugged apologetically.
Harry nodded, standing up. “Thanks. Shall we have a row? The landing would probably be best.”
“I’ll have to slag you off something terrible. I can’t have anyone saying I cooperated.”
Harry pulled a face. “Listen closely and you’ll hear the sound of my heart breaking.”
* * * * *
Allison got behind the wheel at Harry’s signal he wanted her to drive again. When they pulled into traffic, he took out his mobile and made a call, apparently getting voicemail.
“Patty, luv, it’s Harry Ross. I’m wondering if you know who a young girl that goes under the name Lily White works for? I’ll not be getting her in police trouble, just need to know to follow a trail somewhere else. Could you give me a jingle? Thanks, luv.”
Allison waited till she was sure he’d switched off. “Patty Cady?”
“Yeah. She’s still off the game, but she’ll be able to get that information for us with little trouble.”
“You were good with Lily. She liked you.” Allison
tried to sound blasé. “I suppose you’ve been with a prozzy before.”
“You do?”
“Haven’t you?”
“I can’t tell if I’m going to disappoint you if I say yes or if I say no.”
“Don’t be daft. I’d guess most men do sometimes.”
“What does that mean?”
“You know.”
“I can’t say I do.”
“Never mind. I just asked.”
“Do your brothers?”
“How would I know?”
“Your father?”
“Of course not.”
“Are you sure?”
She hesitated. “I think so.”
“How about the guv?”
“Definitely not. Besides, he’s married.”
“So are Gunderson, Brighton, and Webster.”
“Those three are creeps.”
“What about you? Would you pay for sex?”
She felt herself coloring. “I guess I did.”
“Nay, lassie, because I didn’t care if the kitchen got painted.” He smiled. “Maybe if you’d offered me something I wanted, like football tickets or a new sound system for my car. Not a paint job for the kitchen.”
She kept her face turned to the front, hurt stinging her chest. It had started to rain. He put his hand on her leg and she brushed it away without turning to look at him.
“Come on, Allison. Look at me.” His voice was cajoling, but she knew he could switch that voice on and off when it suited him. “If anyone owes anything, it’s me that owes you.”
“Not for something you didn’t want.”
“You’re not listening. The kitchen paint job was what I didn’t know I wanted. The other was great. And I liked the paint when it was done. Didn’t I tell you so?”
He waited for her to answer, but she didn’t say anything, knowing if she tried, she’d cry. She knew he was trying to wait her out, but she had no words for how stupid and ashamed she felt. So, for a long time, neither one of them spoke. The rain beat down on the roof making the silence inside the car oppressive.
Finally, he sighed, giving in. “Once. I was with a prozzy once.”
She watched the passing buildings through the grey mist of rain.
“For my first time. My Uncle Al, my father’s kid brother, got her for me for my twelfth birthday. Her name was Violet and I thought she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. I was scared, nervous, and incredibly grateful to her.”