by Deborah Lucy
She was sick of being with strangers and people she didn’t know and who didn’t know her. She wanted her parents, her mum and dad; she wanted to be cared for. She’d trusted China before when she’d persuaded her to go back to Gemma’s flat and that had all gone wrong. Here was another girl, another person China knew, offering them a bed for the night. How did she know she could trust her? Megon trusted China but this could be like Gemma all over again, another trap.
She knew her dad was on the streets of Swindon looking for her and she wanted to find him and go home with him. Without him, she couldn’t see how she could be safe. He’d protect her all the way home. He’d keep her safe. At least out here she was free, not trapped in another house. No, she felt safer on the streets, where there was space to run and where her voice could be heard if she screamed for help. She didn’t want to be trapped again. Not in another stranger’s house, another bedroom.
‘I’m going to look for my dad,’ she said, extricating herself from China’s arm. ‘He was here looking for me and if I find him, I can go home. I have to go home.’ China could see she was beaten.
‘I’m not leaving you behind – we’ve got to stick together. They’ll be looking for us. It’s dark now; it’ll be better in the daylight. You’ll be safe at Amy’s with me.’
‘If we split up it might be better. You’ve got somewhere to go now and I can go home. If we’re together, it’s easy for them. At least if we’re in different areas it’ll make it harder for them to find us.’ It took all she had to say it but she believed it; she’d be better off without China.
There was a certain logic to what Megon was saying, but China still didn’t want to leave her friend behind. Megon wouldn’t be persuaded; even Amy tried to get her to go with them but she was adamant that in the morning she would look for her dad and he would take her home. All she wanted was to see him and go home to her mum and sisters. After everything that had happened to her, that was all she wanted. And as she saw it, all that was between her and what she wanted was a few more hours of darkness.
Chapter 38
‘So where is she, Si?’ Temple was hanging off Sloper’s every word. His mind was racing. He was trying to keep his emotions in check. He wanted to turn round and put his fist in Sloper’s face. He wanted to ask him why he’d exploited rather than protected Gemma all these years. It could have been different. As Harker’s friend, Sloper could have mediated between Gemma and Clive Harker, he could have brought them together, but instead he’d seen an opportunity to use her, use Clive Harker for his own ends. Temple kept thinking of her standing in his kitchen pleading with him: ‘You’re the only one who can help me.’
During the hours he’d spent with Gemma that night, he’d been saddened by the waste. It wasn’t just the loss of her once pretty face, it was also the life she had led; the waste of potential of the person she could have been. She had been set for better things; she had had such a bright future. She could and should have lived a very different life, been someone else other than who she currently was. Surely he could do this for her, bring Prayer back? He knew he had to do everything he could. He couldn’t let her down again.
‘Start the car. I’ll take you there,’ Sloper said.
Temple pulled away. As they drove to Sloper’s instructions, Temple continued to question him.
‘If you knew Prayer was ill, why didn’t you get her help?’
‘I was trying to find her on the night I saw you in Swindon. They rang me, told me they had taken her. Because they took her from my flat where Gemma lives, they thought I knew her.’
‘They thought she was one of your street girls, didn’t they? That’s the bit you’ve left out. Because we know you run street girls, we’ve seen them. So what do you know about Prayer?’
‘I’ve never seen her. All I know is that she was at Gemma’s. Next thing I know, I get a call saying they’ve taken her. Later I get a call saying she’s not well. They said she keeps having fits.’
Temple didn’t recall Gemma saying anything about Prayer being ill or having fits. When they had both looked through her case at the flat, he hadn’t seen any medication and Gemma hadn’t mentioned any either. Temple’s gut wrenched with the realisation. They must have drugged her and she’d had a bad reaction. She was fitting due to some shit they’d given her and they were panicking. He had to find her fast.
‘Did they say if they’d given her anything to make her fit? Have they given her drugs, or that new synthetic shit Spice and the like they dole out now?’
‘No, they said they hadn’t touched her.’
Temple lost it. ‘And how would you know? Why would you believe these pieces of shit? And who the fuck are “they”? Who are we talking about – who took Prayer?’
‘I thought you said you had them under surveillance?’ Sloper looked at Temple in the rear-view mirror. Temple knew he’d let his emotions get the better of him. The plan was hanging by a gossamer thread and he was jeopardising that. He had to think fast.
‘We were watching you. Not this crew who took Prayer, or I wouldn’t be asking you where she is. Who took her? Give me a name.’
‘Names don’t mean anything. These Eastern Europeans are all on a dozen or more aliases. They probably can’t remember what their real names are, they’ve assumed so many different ones. You only know these people by their faces.’ Sloper shot Paul Wallace a derisory look. ‘You lot should know that. That’s why they’re so hard to track. They’re very organised, not like our home-grown lot. The place is swarming with Eastern Bloc villains. They just take advantage of their freedom to come to the UK and they set up here.’ As Sloper spoke, Temple watched him in his rear-view mirror. He was looking around, out of the windows.
He knew it wouldn’t be long before Sloper would start to question the surveillance job and he knew he was going to struggle to keep up the pretence. They were in his own car, with no radio contact; Sloper would shortly start to look for signs that they were being followed, that they were part of a large operation. It was getting desperate and he didn’t know how much longer he would get away with deceiving him.
‘Just tell me where I’m going, what road I’m aiming for.’ Temple wanted to know his destination as quickly as possible. If Sloper suddenly realised he’d been mugged and there was no surveillance operation, Temple knew he’d be left with nothing for his efforts. At least if he told him where he was going he’d have somewhere to start from.
Paul Wallace suddenly put his finger to his ear and started talking.
‘Yes, just follow. The subject’s taking us to the victim.’ Temple looked across at him and they met each other’s gaze. Watching Bond films had given Wallace the idea. Undercover operatives touched their ear before speaking into a covert button on their cuffs. Temple held his breath. This surely had to be it, Sloper would suss them; it had been a desperate effort that was just about to fail. Then Sloper spoke, giving Temple directions to Penhill. Temple drove on. He hadn’t suspected. When they arrived at their destination, Sloper finally directed him to pull over.
‘Where is she?’ Temple looked down the dimly lit street with a mixture of terraced houses and flats.
‘You’ll find her at number thirty-six.’
They were parked some hundred yards away from that address. Temple got out alone, telling Paul Wallace to keep Sloper in the car. As he walked, he made a quick call to DS Sam Mendoza, as he knew he would need him for backup if Prayer was there. It was fairly quiet in the street at that time of night, with no traffic and just the faint noise of music and televisions from inside the houses. His heart pounded as he walked and he felt tense. How reliable was Sloper’s source? What if she wasn’t there? The thought of Prayer being kept against her will and being drugged sickened him but at the same time sent a surge of anger through him so strong that he could think with perfect clarity.
Temple found the house and banged on the door. From inside he heard footsteps on a hard floor coming towards him. He was within inches of whoever wa
s behind the door and could sense them put their hand on the latch to open it. Just before they did, they called out.
‘Who is it, man?’ a voice with a foreign accent asked. Temple replied in a low voice.
‘It’s me, man, let me in.’ Without waiting for a reply, Temple took a step back and, sizing up the door and with his anger driving him on, he drew his knee up and used his foot as a battering ram against it. He kicked at it again. The door started to give way but not completely. He followed it up with a shoulder barge and the door opened. As he went through with his own momentum, the sudden opening of the door startled the person behind it. Temple turned and grabbed a young, wiry-looking male, pinning him to the wall.
‘I’ve come for the girl, where is she?’ The man looked back at him and tried to resist. ‘Don’t fuck me about. The girl is ill, where is she?’ he shouted. He badly wanted to hurt the man. He again pushed him back hard against the wall and drew satisfaction that the back of the man’s head hit the wall with an eye-popping thud. It must have registered Temple’s intent that he would stop at nothing. The man caved.
‘Upstairs,’ he spat.
Temple pulled the man towards him, then pushed him up a steep stairway. With his head still ringing, he offered little resistance but Temple gripped the stair rail as he was wary of being kicked back down. When they got to the top of the tiny square landing with two rooms either side, the man went left into a bedroom and Temple followed.
Curled up on a mattress on the floor with her back to him lay a girl. Just as Temple caught sight of her, there was a commotion downstairs. He went back out onto the landing with the man. DS Mendoza appeared at the bottom of the stairs along with a uniformed constable.
‘Take hold of this one, Sam. There might be some more out the back.’ Temple pushed the man towards the stairs, resisting an urge to kick him as he went, slowly making his way down towards Mendoza who waited at the bottom. Temple went back into the bedroom and turned his attention to the girl on the mattress. He crouched down by her side. The mattress was on bare boards and it was filthy.
Wearing jeans and a jumper, the girl was on her side, lying with her back to him, stock-still. He could just make out that her eyes were open, staring ahead of her. He said her name and she responded. She had been here for days and now someone was saying her name. No one here knew her name.
‘Who are you? How do you know my name?’ she demanded, immediately turning round. Her dark hair fell away from her shoulders as she moved and propped herself up on one elbow. He could see the resemblance to both Gemma and his mother in her. The combination of all of them making up the girl in front of him suddenly struck him.
He saw her eyes and read her instincts – she was ready to fight, she was just working out what she had to do. He had to check himself not to take her in his arms but she had no idea who he was at that moment. The only thing he could think of was to reassure her the best way he could.
‘I’m Detective Inspector Temple. I’m a police officer and I’ve come to take you home.’
Chapter 39
Temple was prepared for the worst; his mind had been working overtime as he knew how young girls were treated in these situations. They were beaten, plied with alcohol and drugs and raped into submission by their captors and sometimes tortured to send a message to those who slighted them.
In some cases, they were killed; murdered as an example to all. Sloper had told him she was sick, that she was fitting. Temple looked around the room. There was no evidence of the usual drug paraphernalia. From the quick look Temple had of her, Prayer didn’t even look ill. In fact, as he continued to assess her and the surroundings, there was nothing to suggest that this was someone who was sick from a drug overdose.
‘Prayer, I’ve been told that you’re ill. Do you need me to call an ambulance for you?’
‘I’m not ill,’ she said simply and as if she was a bit put out. ‘I did it to scare them and to make sure they left me alone. And it worked.’ As she spoke, she sat up facing him.
‘What worked? What did you do?’
‘I pretended to have an epileptic fit every time they came near me. I’m not stupid. I’m lying on a mattress, I’m a girl in a house full of men, so I knew what was coming next.’ She said all of this matter-of-factly. His fears that this experience would have badly affected her seemed unfounded at the moment as she gave the distinct impression of being no more than indignant and seriously pissed off.
‘Have they hurt you in any way? Did they hurt you when they took you or since you’ve been here?’
‘No. I read the newspapers. I’ve read about girls in these situations. It’s horrible what they have done to them. I decided a while ago that trying to repel men in that sort of situation might help, so I decided to pretend I was fitting. I scared them,’ she said with some satisfaction.
Temple had sat down on the floor next to her. He watched her as she spoke, taking in how she looked and what she sounded like, trying to gauge if she was in shock or hiding anything. Her attitude dumbfounded him. She was calm and well spoken; her voice was level as though she was talking him through her latest school project.
There was a confidence in her that made her seem different from other teenagers he’d experienced. Despite never meeting her before, he felt an immediate connection to her. He wondered if he would have felt it if Gemma hadn’t told him she was his daughter.
‘OK, I was a bit scared but I think my survival instincts must have kicked in or something, adrenalin, I don’t know. Their stupid Halloween masks frightened me a bit at first, but I think that was more for Gemma’s benefit.’ She looked up to his face. ‘Gemma’s my birth mother. I was with her when they came into her flat and brought me here.’
‘I know. I’ve seen Gemma, she’s very worried for you – we all were.’ He’d been so tense and so sure that this was going to have a bad ending that he couldn’t believe the composure of the girl in front of him. ‘I’m going to call Gemma now and tell her that we’ve found you. Look, I’m sorry that this has happened to you, but this could have had a very different outcome.’ She nodded silently and gave him a slight smile. The relief flooded through him. She was going to be all right.
‘That was a pretty smart thing you did, and it probably saved you from God knows what – well, it seems you know what it saved you from. Come on, let’s get you out of here. Put your shoes on.’
He admired her presence of mind to deal with the situation in the way she had. He was finding it difficult not to put his arms around her and draw her to him. He felt ridiculously proud of her; she had been held here for over forty-eight hours and she’d held her own, she’d come through relatively unscathed against these bastards. He thought of her parents and said a silent ‘thank you’ to them for the way she had been brought up. She might have his genes, but he knew he could claim no credit for this remarkable girl.
‘I did drama at school, which I was pretty good at. Who’d have thought it would come to such good use.’
Temple helped her up. She was nearly as tall as him with her shoes on. They went downstairs where Mendoza had been joined by a few more uniformed colleagues who were handcuffing and arresting three males. Prayer identified her abductors amongst them.
While they were still in the house, Temple called Gemma and told her Prayer was safe. She demanded to know where he was and despite him trying to persuade her otherwise, she immediately made the short journey by car to collect her. He knew he had to keep Gemma on side and so had acquiesced to her, but he had to keep her away from Sloper – and Mendoza and the other officers for that matter if Gemma was to keep Prayer’s existence from her father. They would need to take a statement from Prayer later, but for now he knew that some food and a bath was probably what she wanted. When Gemma pulled up outside in the middle of the road, Temple went to her, leaving Prayer inside. He had to restrain her from rushing to Prayer.
‘Stay here. Don’t go in the house, there are police officers in there – they’ll know you and
they’ll put two and two together. She’s fine, Prayer’s fine. I’ll fetch her. If you want Clive to have no knowledge of Prayer, you have to stay here. I’ve already told the DS that she was visiting you and that she comes from the Midlands.’
Her face was tense. ‘Are you sure she’s all right? I need to see her.’
‘Yes, she’s fine. I’ll get her now and then I want you both out of here.’ Conscious of the close proximity of Sloper in his car further down the road, Temple wanted Gemma and Prayer away as fast as possible, but he also needed to contain them and keep them safe. He knew Gemma wouldn’t go to a police station, and not wanting them to go back to her flat, Temple told Gemma to go back to his house. It was far from ideal, especially with Ben there, but Temple would be back with them possibly within a couple of hours.
‘And, Gem, don’t tell her about me. All that can wait. After we’ve taken a statement, we need to get her back to her parents. There’ll be a lot of explaining to do. I’ve woken Ana and she’ll be waiting for you. I’ll see you when I’ve finished up here.’
As soon as she saw her, Gemma’s relief was evident as she drew Prayer into a tearful hug, wrapping her arms around her. Temple ushered them both into Gemma’s car and reminded her again to meet Ana at the cottage. When they left, Temple went back inside where he was met by Mendoza.
‘Do you want to tell me why the victim has gone off with Gemma Harker?’
‘She was in Gemma’s flat when she was abducted; wrong place, wrong time. They went there for Gemma and took her instead. They’re both witnesses. We’ll take statements in the morning. The girl’s assured me that nothing’s happened to her. As I told you, she lives in the Midlands. She pretended that she was fitting upstairs which scared them and meant they kept their distance from her.’ Temple hoped to divert Mendoza’s attention from making any connection between Gemma and Prayer.