by Lynne King
“Stop it, Shaun, stop it, you’ll kill him,” Liz screamed.
As Shaun stepped back, the pummelled body slid down the wall, blood streaming from his nose and torn lips. Shaun bent over to wipe the blood from his hands onto the man’s torn and bloodied white jacket.
Straightening up, he then proceeded to dust off his own charcoal-grey trousers and jacket while speaking in a cool guttural tone. “You ever lay another finger on either of the two women here or so much as talk to them, they’ll be scraping you up in black plastic bags. Get my meaning. Now git the fuck out of here you lump of shit.”
The pimp didn’t need telling twice. Staggering to his feet, he unsteadily made his way past Liz, reaching down to pick up his hat before almost falling down the stairs as he grabbed the railing to support himself.
Liz was pressed up against the wall, her whole body trembling.
He came over to her, his fingers under her chin lifting her face up so their eyes met. “Don’t ever pull a foolish stunt like that again.” He grabbed hold of her forearm. “Let’s get into your apartment in case someone did call the cops. I don’t want them poking around asking questions.”
Pulling away from him, she looked over at the girl. Soft murmuring sounds were coming from her as she lay there. Liz went over to her again and pulled up her satin wrap to try and cover her nakedness. It looked as if the slaps had forced her head to hit the wall and she was only now gaining full consciousness. “Shaun, we’ve got to call the medics. She needs to go to hospital. Look at her.”
“This is one hell of a first date. We call an ambulance and the cops will be brought in. I’m sure it’s not what she wants and it certainly isn’t my idea of ending what started off as a promising evening.” He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply on it, and made no attempt to approach Liz and the girl.
“How can you act so insensitive? The poor girl’s been beaten half to death. You go and don’t worry, I won’t mention your involvement,” she threw back at him. “As for the girl saying anything, I don’t think she’s capable of remembering anything, do you?”
He threw the cigarette down and ground it out with his heel. Striding over he motioned for Liz to move away and bent down. Positioning an arm under the girl’s legs and the other around her waist he gathered her up and carried her into the apartment and through to the bedroom. She was still making moaning noises as he placed her onto the bed.
Liz followed him in and looked around for a phone. Spotting one by the bedside she went over to it. His hand reached out and covered hers over the handset, preventing her from picking it up. With his other hand he cupped her chin and brought her face around.
“All right, have it your way, but remember, Liz, you didn’t see anything. If they think you are a witness, I can’t promise to be around all the time when her pimp gets to hear. You keep out of it, understand.” The warning sounded as if it was for her. His mouth came down to brush against her lips.
“As much as I would like to stick around, I don’t fancy answering a load of questions if the cops decide to show up. I’ll be in touch.”
Liz watched him walk out of the apartment and then picked up the handset and dialled 911. As she waited for the help to arrive, she tried to comfort the girl. She was fully conscious now but not making any sense.
“I’ve got to get out of here. He’ll come back,” the girl sobbed. As she tried to get up, Liz gently held her down.
“It’s okay, an ambulance, I mean the medics are on their way. You will be safe, I promise.” She tried to calm the girl but her words seemed to cause more distress.
“I’ll tell them who did this to you, give them a description. The police will protect you—he won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”
Red painted nails reached up and with surprising strength, the girl’s hands grabbed hold of Liz’s shoulders, her eyes emitting more than panic. She was issuing a threat. “I don’t want no cops, you hear me. Stay out of my business, bitch.”
She released her hold and slumped back down. This was all too much for Liz. She sat there motionless staring down at the girl, afraid to move, do anything. Finally the intercom sounded, snapping her out of it. Releasing the entrance door and telling the paramedics they were on the top floor, she returned to the bedroom to find the girl had fallen on the floor in her attempt to stand. There was no more resistance as Liz allowed the professionals to take over. Two uniformed police officers had also arrived on the scene and once the girl had been taken out to the waiting ambulance, they accompanied Liz back to her own apartment.
They didn’t seem that bothered, as if it was a matter of routine. They had already aired their suspicions that the girl was a prostitute and had probably been beaten up by her pimp, their final statement confirming this.
“Unless she decides to make a formal statement naming the assailant and wishes for charges to be pressed, we can’t do no more than file an open report. It will probably be put down as a domestic dispute, ma’am. Unless, of course, you can provide us with some facts,” he added.
“Is the girl going to be all right?” Liz asked.
“Yeah, I think so. May keep her in a day or two. She took a bad knock to the back of the head, the rest mainly superficial cuts and bruising. You say her apartment door was open and you found her on the floor by the bed.”
“Yes, that’s right. I heard an argument and screams and when I opened my door, there was the sound of footsteps going down the stairs and the main door slamming. That’s when I went up to investigate and found her. I don’t even know her name.” Liz refused to meet their eyes as she kept her head held low, nails pressing into the flesh of her closed fists kept behind her back. She felt sick on hearing the lies coming forth from her mouth. The truth could bring her more trouble though. She would have to tell them about Shaun’s part in it, something he warned her against, and the girl wouldn’t thank her either. She had never lied and now here she was breaking the law with her lies. “Tina Davidson, nineteen years old.” The officer went on to add, “Strange, crawling back into her apartment like that. The whole corridor is marked with blood and not all of it is hers, I would hazard a guess. Must have been one hell of a fight.”
“Yes, it sounded that way,” she murmured, feeling now that she was the guilty one.
“Shame, nineteen and already she has a long sheet for soliciting. She’ll be back out on the street by the end of the week, take my word for it, her pimp will make sure of that unless he decides to finish what he started.”
The revulsion must have shown on her face, making the officer speak less harshly.
“Look, I know you claim not to have seen the assailant but we need you to come down to the precinct and make a statement of what you did hear. You never know—if you sleep on it something might come to light that helps get the creep who did this. The elderly couple downstairs aren’t much good—they are both hard at hearing. Tina’s condition might worsen or she could decide to press charges after all. Will you do that, tomorrow morning, come to the precinct and speak with the desk sergeant?” He wrote down the directions and incident number and handed it to her.
Liz nodded reluctantly, the guilt worsening at the thought that she was letting a vicious attack on a young girl go unpunished, that her pimp would carry on doing the same to others. By not cooperating, another girl’s life could be in danger. Her conscience wrestled with the reality of what she was up against. Shaun was right; she had to continue living here alone in a city with few friends. It was a selfish attitude but she wasn’t that naïve not to know the dangers of becoming involved.
She watched from her window as the police car pulled away and then went back to her door to make sure the bolts were firmly across. Her hands were still shaking and she felt worse now than when it had all been happening. Going to the fridge, she removed an unopened bottle of chardonnay that had been there for over two weeks. It was time to set it free.
Her thoughts were all over the place. It was too late to ring anyone and the only person sh
e could truly trust, who knew her inside out, was her sister, miles away in England. It would be the very early hours of the morning there and her phone call would scare the life out of her. She thought of e-mailing her but what could she say—help, I’ve gone and screwed up again and think I’ve gotten myself involved in something.
Searching through the kitchen drawer, she finally found the bottle opener and hurriedly uncorked it. Pouring a large glass full, she gulped most of it in one mouthful, hoping it would make her feel better. It didn’t. Images of being held in that man’s grasp, of feeling that knife against her skin kept replaying. The violence that had erupted from Shaun, a man who earlier had been making her laugh and whose same bloodied hands had been on her body, touching her beneath her clothing. Kissing him and wanting more. That dark, threatening look in his eyes when he told her not to say anything. He had been making a threat more than a warning.
She rushed to the bathroom and heaved into the toilet bowl. She didn’t know if she ever wanted to see him again.
Chapter Four
Jack Willis was standing talking to a colleague a couple of feet away from the duty desk sergeant when he stopped in mid-sentence. He would recognise her from a mile away. She was dressed in a flattering pale pink suit, the skirt above the knee emphasizing her long slim legs. It was the hair though that drew one to her.
“I wouldn’t mind a piece of that class,” the colleague remarked to Jack under his breath. “Look at that hair coloring. Do you think it’s natural or from a bottle?”
Jack smiled. The mass of rich russet curls was clipped back at the base of her neck, a few escaped tendrils framing her face, striking to say the least. The figure was as he remembered, perfect, his eyes feasting on the contour of her body and causing his smile to broaden. “There’s only one way to find out,” Jack replied. He left his colleague standing there open-mouthed as he strolled over.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
The desk sergeant answered before giving Liz the chance to. “It’s all right, Detective, the lady is here to make a statement unless, of course, you would like to hold the pen for her.” His sardonic smile told Jack he was being read like a book. Not willing to give in that easily, Jack ignored him and held out his hand. “Detective Jack Willis and you are?”
Liz took up the handshake, her palm touching his for a second. “Elizabeth Saunders and I believe we’ve already met.”
Standing this close to her, Jack noted that under the bright lights, her face was as he remembered, delicate features set on an oval face, the creamy complexion with a sprinkling of freckles revealing a freshness and innocence. It was her eyes though that appealed to him the most—they seemed to sparkle, the color emerald like the jewel. A small smile crossed her generous and moist pink lips. Jesus, he was going soft. That gentle reprimand to himself didn’t stop the first thing that came to mind from slipping out.
“Yes and another stepped in ruining my chances to get to know you further. I detect an English accent, am I right? Tell me, are you visiting or residing in New York?”
“Detective, it is you who is the visitor. Need I remind you this is not your precinct? Now I’ve got a busy schedule and I’m sure the lady’s time is precious too.”
“Yeah, sure, Henry, just being helpful. Hey, I’ll take the lady’s statement and you can get on with that busy schedule of yours.”
“There’s no need to. I’ve written down all I know about the attack. It isn’t much, merely voices arguing and the girl screaming. Now if that is all I would like to get back to work, please.” Liz handed the signed statement over to the desk sergeant.
“Yeah, that’s fine,” the sergeant replied. “Don’t worry, miss, I’ll doubt you will be hearing from us again, seeing Miss Davidson claimed she wasn’t attacked and checked herself out of the hospital this morning.”
“What’s this all about anyway?” Jack asked, his curiosity now centered on the statement as he leaned forward trying to read it. The sergeant removed it from the desk.
“A hooker got badly beaten up by either a client or her pimp last night. Miss Saunders lives in the same apartment block and rang 911.”
Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise as he looked at Liz.
“Goodbye, Detective Willis.”
He couldn’t believe his good fortune as he watched her walk out the door. She walked into this precinct and now he had confirmation on the address the cab firm gave him and a name to go with the face.
Stepping outside, she couldn’t help smiling at the coincidences life throws up. She thought he was an opportunity missed, that she’d never set eyes upon him again and there he was. The trouble being she was now officially a liar, had made a false statement, and let him know she lived in the same building as a prostitute and for all he knew she could be one as well. No, she doubted their paths would ever cross again. Simon might have done her a favor—no man could do any worse to her but finding one she could trust might also be impossible.
Heading for the café across the street from the bank, she met up with Lorraine. There was still a little time left of her dinner hour so she ordered a coffee, motioning for Lorraine to join her at a table away from the crowd she was with.
“What’s this need for sudden secrecy? Is it to do with your hasty departure in a cab some forty-five minutes ago?” Lorraine questioned.
“Yes, in a way. You know that Irish guy Julie was on about at the cocktail bar Saturday night.”
“Yeah, what about him?”
“We went out for dinner last night…”
“Well, well, well, aren’t we the sly one,” Lorraine interrupted. “No wonder you were so on edge yesterday. Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I thought he might not show up. Anyway, that’s beside the point. Something happened.”
“No, you don’t say. On your first date. Good on yer, girl.” Lorraine smiled and leaned forward as if expecting an intimate confession.
“Lorraine, it isn’t what you’re thinking.” She then went on to explain briefly about the girl being attacked in her apartment block and her visit to the police precinct to make a statement. When she finished Lorraine was staring back at her in open-mouthed amazement.
“Wow, at least he can’t say you were a boring date. Did he fight good?”
“Lorraine, be serious. Do you think I should have told the police everything? I saw that guy’s face and could easily identify him again. All night I lay awake thinking about it and still I didn’t write down the truth.”
“Liz, you took the right decision. Look, you said the girl has refused to talk so it will be your statement the cops will use, that is if they want to bring about a public prosecution themselves. That creep will be out on bail within days, if they catch him. Believe me, you don’t mess with those types. He’ll be out for revenge if he thinks you’ve pointed the finger. Besides, by the sounds of it he took quite a hammering from your date, so be satisfied with that.”
“I lied, Lorraine.”
“Just forget it, Liz. You will have to distance yourself from things like that. Stop beating yourself up about something you can’t change, otherwise you’ll never survive in New York. Now let’s get back to work before we both end up fired.” Lorraine stood up, her tone lightening. “One other thing, Liz, think about changing apartments, get one with 24-hour security. I told you, it’s crazy staying in that place—Michael keeps on about it and you should accept his offer of help.”
“Michael’s been good to me but I have to stand on my own and that means living in a place I can afford.”
“Well, I hope lover boy gets in touch because by the sound of it you need taking care of.”
Liz followed Lorraine out of the café and was crossing the road when her cell phone sounded. Pausing outside the bank she took the call.
“Hi, it’s me, everything okay?”
“If you’re asking whether I lied convincingly enough, the answer is yes.” She motioned for Lorraine to go ahead without her.
“You talked to the cops, then?”
“Yes, and don’t worry I did what you asked, told them nothing.” She was met by silence making her wonder if he was still there.
Finally he gave a small sigh. “You did good. I’ll be in touch.”
Liz noticed the number had been withheld.
The secrecy and the fact that he knew far more about her than she did him was another added anxiety she had about him.
The events of the previous evening led to another sleepless night. Locking her apartment door, she glanced at her watch. Maybe she should pop upstairs and check on Miss Davidson. It might help ease her conscience.
She nearly walked smack into him. His six-foot menacing form stood leaning up against the wall by the stairwell, sunglasses hiding what she guessed to be bruised eyes. As for the rest of his face, he bore purple scars etched in his dark skin from the beating he had received from Shaun. Her dilemma was whether to run back into her apartment or to carry on walking, praying he had taken Shaun’s threats seriously.
Her body was frozen as she watched him light a cigarette, his head bent forward with the Panama hat meeting the top of his sunglasses. The silence along with his shaded eyes brought an oppressive feel to the air, so much so that Liz longed for him to say something to determine his state of mind.
Taking a dry swallow, she forced a foot forward, followed up by another step. Then as she went to rush past, he stepped straight into her path, sidestepping with her every move until finally he had her cornered up against the wall. He let out a cruel laugh as he moved in closer, his foul breath upon her skin.
Any second now her legs would buckle. She felt dizzy and sick from fear and the heat was causing sharp intakes of breath. Hysterical screaming was seconds away.