by Jaime Raven
‘For your information I’m not letting go of this,’ I said. ‘I’m going to find out who those men are and why they framed me. I don’t care how long it takes or how much trouble I stir up.’
Ruby exhaled a slow, stilted breath. ‘Just keep me out of it. Please. I don’t want them coming back.’
‘Then tell me what else you know,’ I said.
‘I’ve told you everything.’
‘I don’t believe you. What about Benedict? He was a regular agency client. You must have known something about him. Like who might have wanted to kill him.’
‘Of course I didn’t. All my dealings with him were on the phone, except on two occasions when he came here.’
‘So why did you set me up with him that night? Were you told to do that?’
She hesitated, cleared her throat. ‘Nobody told me. It was just bad luck on your part. You see, Benedict only ever wanted one girl. He was infatuated with her, and when she suddenly disappeared from the scene he stopped calling. I didn’t hear from him for a while. Then he phoned out of the blue and asked for an escort. You happened to be on call so you got the job.’
‘So who was this other girl?’
‘Karina Gorski. She was with me for about nine months.’
I nodded in recognition. ‘I met her once when I came here. We arrived at the same time to give you money, and you shared a bottle of wine with us. She was Polish.’
‘That’s right. She was also a gobby cow, and there was something about her I didn’t trust.’
‘So where can I get in touch with her now?’
Ruby shook her head. ‘I’ve no idea. She just stopped calling, and I assumed she decided to give up the escort business.’
I recalled Karina as being a pretty brunette in her twenties who, like me, had turned to prostitution after falling on hard times. I made a mental note to enquire into her whereabouts since it was possible she might know something about Benedict that hadn’t been revealed at the trial.
‘Where was Karina living back then?’ I asked.
Ruby rolled her eyes. ‘Derby Road. But Christ only knows if she’s still there. She might well have buggered off back to Poland.’
I spent another fifteen minutes trying to persuade Ruby to come clean with the police. But she was having none of it. And the more I pleaded with her the less of a threat I seemed to pose. The tears dried up and she flexed her shoulders. Her voice became stronger, more assertive. She even got up from the table and took a swig from a half-empty vodka bottle.
I knew that if I dragged it out much longer I’d lose my temper and do something I’d regret. I couldn’t afford to be up on an assault charge just a day after being released.
But before leaving I told the bitch in no uncertain terms what I thought of her, and once again she uttered an apology for what she had done to me.
But I really didn’t think she meant it.
7
Ruby’s confession had hit me hard. As I walked away from her house my stomach churned and my head filled with desperate questions.
Who were the men who had threatened her? Were they the same pair who had murdered Benedict? And had Ruby known what was going to happen when she sent me to the hotel that night?
I was more determined than ever to seek out the answers and identify those responsible for what had happened to me four years ago. I knew I couldn’t just let it go. That would be a sure way to blight whatever future I might be able to carve out for myself.
But for the first time I think I realised just how difficult – and potentially dangerous – it was going to be.
The killers had gone to extraordinary lengths to claim their victim and incriminate me. It was unlikely they would hold back from stopping the truth getting out.
It was a chilling thought, and it caused my scalp to prickle.
The clouds had drifted away and the sun was pulling shadows from the street. A light breeze had started blowing from the south, bringing with it the smell of the sea. I stopped to light a cigarette, drew the smoke deep into my lungs.
And that was when I realised I was being watched. I saw him when I happened to glance across the road. He was on the other side, standing in front of a boarded-up shop.
He was maybe six feet tall and bulky, with hair that was shaved to a whisker. He looked to be in his thirties and was wearing jeans and a tight-fitting black T-shirt.
He was staring right at me with an unsettling intensity. When he saw me catch sight of him he didn’t avert his gaze. But he did shake his head and make a cut-throat gesture with his right hand.
My spine went rigid, and I dropped the ciggy on the ground. I instinctively looked around to see if by chance he was signalling to someone close to me. But the nearest other pedestrian was about fifty yards away.
When I turned back to him, he’d moved away from the shop and was walking along the pavement in the direction I was heading.
For a second I didn’t know how to react. Should I follow him? Was he just a mental case who made threatening gestures to passers-by? Or had he followed me to Ruby’s house and now wanted me to know that I would regret it?
Adrenaline surged through my veins and my heart started to beat like a trip-hammer.
I was still trying to decide what to do when he looked over his shoulder and gave me another hard stare. And this time I could have sworn he smiled.
A moment later he turned to his left and disappeared into an alley tucked between a Thai food store and a vacant shop.
I decided to go after him. Find out who the hell he was. I couldn’t believe his appearance was a coincidence.
I hurried into the road without looking and a white Transit van had to swerve to avoid me. The blast of the horn battered my eardrums, but I didn’t stop or even bother to acknowledge the irate driver.
I ran at full pelt along the pavement, and when I reached the alley I stopped and peered into it. There was no sign of him. The alley was narrow and strewn with litter. It ran between the sides of the buildings for perhaps fifteen yards before veering to the right.
I felt a tightening in my chest as I stepped into it. The walls seemed to close in on me, and a voice in my head told me to tread carefully.
I walked past two closed doors and a window covered with tarpaulin. Stepped over crushed beer cans and discarded takeaway food cartons. I reached the bend and saw that beyond it the alley ran for another five or six yards before it came up against a high wrought-iron gate.
In front of the gate stood the man I’d been following. He was facing me with his arms crossed, and his mouth curled into a thin smile.
I halted and sucked in a deep breath. Dread swelled up inside me when I realised I’d been lured into a trap.
‘Nice of you to join us, bitch.’
It wasn’t the shaven-headed man who spoke. The voice came from behind me. I spun round and a sudden panic caused my stomach muscles to contract.
Another man was standing not five feet away. Tall, square-jawed, in his late twenties. He wore dark trousers, an open-neck shirt, wraparound sunglasses.
And he had a tattoo that was just visible on his exposed chest. A dog baring a set of sharp teeth.
‘It was really ugly, sis. The way a dog growls at you as it gets ready to attack.’
That was how my brother had described the tattoo on the chest of the man who had beaten him up. The same man who was no doubt planning to do the same to me.
Shit.
I felt a flash of heat spread through my body and cursed myself for being a complete fucking moron.
The tattooed man narrowed his eyes, stabbed a rigid finger at me.
‘You were warned to leave it alone. You should have listened.’
Before I could react I was seized from behind by the other man who clamped a hard, sweaty hand over my mouth, stifling a scream. He used his other hand to grab my left arm and pushed me roughly up against the wall.
Then his tattooed friend stepped forward and rammed a fist into my gut. The pain was
excruciating, and I felt my legs buckle. As I collapsed onto the concrete my mouth was freed up and the air exploded out of my lungs. But before I could cry out the tattooed man flipped me onto my back and dropped himself on top of me.
I couldn’t move. He sat across my pelvis and held my arms against the ground. I felt the spray of his words on my face as he spoke.
‘This is your final warning, bitch. Stay away from Ruby Gillespie and don’t approach anyone else involved in the Benedict business. You’ve made certain people very angry and if you carry on you’ll end up dead. Is that clear?’
I squinted up at him and adopted an expression of defiance that earned me a fierce slap around the face.
‘You might think that you’re a tough little tart,’ he said. ‘But you’re really just a stupid bitch who doesn’t know what she’s doing.’
‘So people keep telling me,’ I screamed back at him. ‘Who the fuck are you?’
His tongue flicked briefly across his lips.
‘We’re your worst nightmare,’ he said. ‘And believe me when I say that you need to make us go away.’
He let go of my arms and heaved himself off me in a quick, fluid movement. At the same time his partner grabbed my hair and pulled hard. The pain brought nausea bubbling to the surface and made my eyes water.
‘Get up,’ he shrieked at me.
I tried to struggle free as he dragged me to my feet, but he was too strong, and I was too dazed and disoriented to resist.
When I was upright I opened my eyes and found myself staring at the growling dog tattoo. I had to lift my gaze to see his face. His lips were drawn back, revealing crooked teeth the colour of tired ice.
‘Think yourself lucky that we’re in a public place,’ he said. ‘Otherwise we’d be taking turns to rape you.’
He gave me another hard punch in the stomach. The other man released his grip on my hair, and I doubled over in agony.
The next blow struck me on the right side just below the rib cage. The one after that was to the back of my head.
I was still conscious as I hit the ground for a second time and aware of their receding footsteps as they ran back out of the alley.
I wanted desperately to leap up and give chase, but my head was spinning and my body felt like it was on fire.
So I curled up in a ball, trying to hold back the tears of anger and frustration that were threatening to overwhelm me.
8
Pain and shock conspired to make me throw up on the concrete floor of the alley. After that I hauled myself to a sitting position and tried to regain my equilibrium.
My head and body were throbbing, and my vision was blurred. I was shaking all over.
I’d been well and truly mugged. But even as I sat there I realised it could have been much worse. At least I was still alive and I hadn’t been raped.
I was guessing they’d hit me in the stomach and on the back of the head because they hadn’t wanted to leave any visible injuries. That way the police might not even believe I’d been attacked.
Jesus.
I struggled to my feet and fought another wave of nausea. I was still alone in the alley, which extended beyond the iron gate and gave access to a deserted yard cluttered with wheelie bins.
There would be no witnesses to what had happened. So no one would be able to corroborate my story.
But that wasn’t going to stop me calling the police. I pulled my mobile from my jeans pocket and punched in 999. Told the operator I’d been attacked and gave my location.
Then, clutching my aching stomach, I dragged myself back along the alley to the street, which was still almost deserted. There was no sign of the two men who had attacked me.
I stood in the mouth of the alley with my back against the wall. While I waited for the cops to arrive I looked around in the hope of spotting a CCTV or traffic camera. Much to my disappointment, I didn’t see any. This part of the street didn’t appear to be covered, which was just my rotten luck. There would be no video of me or my attackers entering or leaving the alley.
I heard the siren before the squad car appeared and screeched to a halt at the kerb. It was five minutes after I’d called them.
An ambulance arrived while I was telling the uniforms what had happened. The paramedics wanted to take me to the hospital, but I said there was no need. So they checked me over and decided that I wasn’t seriously hurt, which I already knew.
The cops searched the alley, found no evidence of an attack, and expressed dismay that there were no street cameras. Then, at my request, they put in a call to DS McGrath who wanted me to go straight to the station.
But I insisted on stopping off at the flat on the way.
Scar was beside herself when I arrived in the squad car. Shock quickly turned to anger as I explained what had happened while the officers waited outside. That anger was directed at me as well as the thugs.
‘You said you were going to call me to pick you up,’ she ranted. ‘Why didn’t you, for Christ’s sake?’
I gave a weak shrug. ‘I wanted to walk back.’
She drew in a sharp, audible breath, and her voice trembled in her throat.
‘My God, this can’t go on. First your brother and now you. This is ridiculous.’
She had a point, of course, but I didn’t want to hear it right now. All I wanted was a little sympathy and a hug.
‘Are you sure you shouldn’t be at the hospital?’ she said. ‘I’ll get the police to take you.’
‘The paramedics checked me over,’ I said. ‘I’m okay.’
But that wasn’t strictly true. My head felt like it was stuck in a beehive, and hot tears were stinging my eyes. What had happened in the alley had shaken me up more than I cared to admit.
‘I have to go to the station,’ I said. ‘I want Ash and his team to know exactly what happened.’
Scar shook her head and the edges of her mouth tightened into a grimace.
‘You could have been killed, Lizzie. Do you realise that? These are dangerous people you’re going up against.’
I lost control then and the tears gushed out. Scar’s response was instinctive. She wrapped me in her arms and squeezed me as I cried into her shoulder.
‘Let it out, babe,’ she said. ‘There’s no need to bottle it up. You’ve been through a terrible experience.’
I didn’t think I would ever stop crying. It was like a tap I couldn’t turn off. My body trembled. My nose ran. And blood pounded in my ears.
It was only when one of the police officers appeared in the doorway and asked me if I was ready to go that I managed to pull myself together.
Scar told them I needed to freshen up, and she led me into the bathroom where she helped me to rub away the smeared mascara and streaky foundation. She then insisted on going with me to the station, and I told her to follow in the car.
‘Don’t take any shit from those detectives,’ she said. ‘They need to start appreciating that the lives of you and your family are at stake here.’
At the station Scar waited downstairs while I was taken up to an office next to the open-plan operations room. A young woman in civvies appeared and asked me if I wanted a drink.
‘I’d like a coffee,’ I said. ‘Strong, with plenty of sugar.’
McGrath arrived at the same time as the coffee. He was out of breath, a little flustered.
‘Jesus, Lizzie. Are you all right?’
‘What do you think?’ I said. ‘I’ve just been duffed up in an alley and had my life threatened by the same two thugs who attacked my brother.’
He pulled over a chair and sat next to me in front of the desk. He was wearing a sharp blue suit and open-neck white shirt. My eyes were drawn to the hairs that were revealed high up on his chest and I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at them. This in turn made me feel guilty because I suddenly thought about Scar.
‘I know the gist of what happened,’ he said. ‘But I need you to go through it in detail.’
As I started to speak, h
e took out a pen and pad and made notes.
‘So let me get this straight,’ he said. ‘You had only just left Ruby Gillespie’s house when it happened.’
I nodded. ‘And for your information the bitch told me she lied in court about the knife used to killed Rufus Benedict. Two men paid her a visit and told her what to say. They made threats against her life.’
He arched his brow. ‘Is she prepared to say that to us?’
I shook my head. ‘She’s too scared. Maybe she would if you put her under enough pressure.’
I laid it out for him then. Everything Ruby had said. But it was hard to gauge his reaction because his face remained impassive.
‘Why did you simply take her word for it that I carried a knife around in my bag?’ I said.
He shifted in his chair and tugged at his earlobe. ‘Because back then we believed she was telling the truth.’
‘And we still do,’ boomed a familiar voice behind me.
I turned. DCI Ash was standing in the doorway, his features rigid, his eyes small and fierce.
‘You should not have gone to see her,’ he said. ‘I warned you.’
‘She confessed,’ I replied. ‘She told me she lied to you.’
He shook his head. ‘Well she told me you tried to make her change her story. I’ve just had her on the phone. She said you turned up at her house and harassed her. And she’s not happy. Neither am I for that matter.’
‘The bitch is lying again,’ I said. ‘I just went there to talk to her.’
‘Is that right? Well, she’s all shook up and considering making a formal complaint.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ I said. ‘I’m here because I was beaten up in the street by the yobs who assaulted my brother. But all you’re concerned about is that I’ve upset a low life madam who wouldn’t know the truth if it came out of her arse.’
He gave a short, caustic laugh. ‘You’re a fine one to talk about the truth. I’ve spoken to the patrol officers who brought you in. They’re not convinced you were even attacked. I gather you don’t have any wounds.’