Broken Dolls

by Sarah Flint

  Naz indicated the statement that Charlie held in her hands. ‘And you’ll like this bit too,’ she pointed at a paragraph further down the page. ‘It’s Razor’s reaction when Viv told him the rumours of what had happened.’

  ‘Go on,’ Charlie was all ears.

  ‘Well,’ Naz looked animated. ‘She’d heard a girl had been badly beaten and left for dead at the back of the shops in Streatham. And she suddenly realised it might be Redz. But as she told Razor all this, she remembers being quite shocked at how calm he was – almost as if he was expecting the news.’

  *

  Charlie stepped inside Maria Simpson’s flat, marvelling at how the sights and smells of the old lady’s home were so similar to that of her own grandparents: the worn, patterned mat in the centre of the entrance hall, the exposed lino around its edge, the wax furniture polish and the wooden coat stand with the trilby hat perched to one side.

  ‘Sorry to have kept you waiting. I’m nearly ready.’ Maria Simpson shuffled out to the hallway and took a coat from the stand, tilting her head to peer towards the hat briefly. ‘That was my Reg’s. He passed away fifteen years ago but I can’t bear to take it down.’

  ‘It’s like he never left.’ Charlie understood exactly. The old maroon sofa at the family home, the sailor teddy she kept at her flat and the familiar songs repeated each night when sleep proved elusive, all reminded her of Jamie.

  ‘Exactly,’ Maria paused briefly and for a second their eyes connected. ‘Before we leave, do you want to see where I saw that poor girl from?’ She pushed open the door to the living room and pointed towards the window.

  Charlie walked across the threadbare rug and squinted down on the miniature cars and people in the alleyway below. From six floors up, the lines and index number of their own unmarked police minibus were blurry and indistinct. Even in the daylight, it was hard to make out the shape of Hunter, sitting in the passenger seat, never mind identify him.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Maria Simpson said, as if reading her mind. ‘But when the interior light came on I saw him as plain as day. I have absolutely no doubt that he was a big man and that he wore jewellery on his right hand; it glinted in the light.’

  Charlie remembered the large golden signet ring that Razor kept on the middle finger of his right hand, but she also knew that the participants in the line-up would be told to remove jewellery or keep their hands concealed.

  Razor’s solicitor had insisted on an ID parade, as was their right. Two other nearby residents had been identified as possible witnesses by the house-to-house enquiries and required to attend, but both had protested their vision was obscured by the darkness. Given the likelihood of failure, Hunter would rather have not bothered. He knew it would assist the defence more than it would benefit the prosecution, but the defence had requested it, so the prosecution had to comply. As she turned from the window, Charlie too felt the weight of defeat.

  They made their way slowly down to the minibus, where she introduced Maria Simpson to Hunter, then went off to collect the other witnesses. They all had to be given the opportunity to pick out the suspect.

  Eddie Burrows did not want the opportunity to pick out the suspect. He looked furious at being called on at all and made his view known as soon as he was able.

  Mia Lo, a softly-spoken thirty-five-year-old Chinese woman, looked quietly petrified, also expressing her wish that she would rather not have been required.

  As soon as Charlie started the engine, the volume of dissent amongst the witnesses in the rear grew louder.

  ‘I don’t know why I’m here. It’s a total waste of time.’ Eddie Burrows fired first.

  ‘He won’t be able to see us, will he?’ Mia Lo enquired. ‘I’ve got a young child and I’m frightened.’

  ‘No, no. You’re quite safe,’ Charlie countered, explaining the ID viewing deck had one-way glass and they’d be kept securely away from the suspect at all times.

  Mia’s expression changed to one of relief briefly. ‘I still wish I didn’t have to do this. You just have to read the papers to see stories of what happens to witnesses.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Eddie Burrows added. ‘I wish I’d never bothered speaking to you lot. In fact, I wish I’d never bothered getting up and looking out of the window in the first place.’

  ‘Well, I wish I’d done more,’ Maria Simpson said quietly. ‘A young girl was murdered right in front of our eyes and I, for one, am ashamed to admit I was more interested in what was on my TV.’

  *

  Anna stood at the window, gazing out across the common. Her morning had been successfully spent collecting the key to the bedsit and starting the process of making it habitable. By the time she had finished, the little room was looking cosy and welcoming. She was now using a spare hour to pop into the office to write up some notes.

  As she watched the antics of a group of drunks sitting on a bench, she saw a familiar figure walking along the pavement towards her office. Her heart gave an involuntary leap as she realised it was Caz.

  Caz seemed to be walking straighter and more upright than the hunched miserable figure from a few days earlier. Things could certainly change quickly in her life.

  A few minutes later and Anna opened the door to be greeted by an exuberant Caz.

  ‘Hi Anna, can I come in? I’ve got so much to tell you,’ she bubbled. ‘Razor an’ me are on the up. We might even settle down, proper like.’

  It was not at all what Anna wanted to hear. She groaned inwardly as Caz almost bounced up the stairs. Her eyes were still glassy and the same damp mustiness clung to her hair, but her face was scrubbed clean and her clothes were tidy and fitting well.

  ‘Do you like my new clothes? Razor bought ’em for me,’ she said, gesturing up and down over her outfit. ‘He’s gone to the nick now for an ID parade, so I thought I’d see if you was in.’

  ‘They’re very nice.’ Anna tried to sound positive.

  Caz swept into the office and pulled herself up on to the couch.

  ‘Any chance of a brew? Razor only ever gets beer. Bleedin’ idiot. As if everyone wants beer for breakfast. ’E says it costs less than coffee an’ if I want bleedin’ coffee I’d have to go and nick some for myself.’ She threw her head back and laughed raucously. ‘’E also says that me an’ him is the only thing that matters at the moment. He says that Dutch is useless, always out of her skull on the gear.’ She stopped briefly and whispered across towards Anna, ‘she’s been shootin’ up on brown, an’ buying it from another dealer. Razor don’t know that but ’e’s still not happy. She’s costin’ him an arm an’ a leg and not bringin’ anything in.’

  Anna spooned in three sugars and passed a mug of tea to Caz, frowning. Heroin, or brown, although euphoric, regularly caused respiratory depression. Half the time, addicts were so sedated that they barely knew what they were injecting into their bodies. As a result, overdoses were commonplace.

  ‘Razor’s gonna be havin’ words, but it ain’t all her fault. She’s frightened of goin’ out on the streets, but if she don’t go soon, Razor’ll fuckin’ force her out. Mind you, it’s made ’im appreciate me more, like. We’ve bin out cruisin’ and ’aving a laugh. He’s lookin’ after me. I think I love him.’

  Anna felt deflated. It was unlikely Caz would open up more about her past now she was happier, but perhaps it was worth her delving.

  ‘Caz, I’m glad it’s working out and you love Razor. Maybe now you’re more secure you’d like to talk more about your mother and how much you loved her too?’

  Anna held her breath, knowing that she was taking a gamble on how Caz would react to such a direct question. To her surprise though, Caz nodded.

  ‘Yeah. Why not?’, she closed her eyes and laid back.

  For a while she was silent, her face betraying the pleasure and pain of her memories.

  ‘My mum was real special,’ she started at last. ‘Being the only girl, after three boys, it was just me and ’er. When we was shoppin’, she would always treat
me to somethin’ nice. She loved to dress me up, like. Real pretty. She was pretty too. Always smilin’. She had beautiful brown eyes and lovely long shiny hair. Sometimes I would sit on her lap and pull her hair round in front of me so as I was hidden behind it. She would put her hand through an’ tickle me round the neck. Then she would laugh. We would both laugh. I really miss her when I think of those times.’

  She paused and her expression darkened.

  ‘I never knew me Dad. Mum says he used to come round when he wanted her and then piss off for days or weeks at a time. After me, he just pissed off altogether. Mum said it didn’t matter though ’cause I was her special girl.’ Her face lit up and she smiled towards Anna. ‘One day we was out shoppin’ in this big toy shop. That’s where I found Goldilocks, my doll. She was beautiful; long blonde hair and so soft. I wouldn’t put ’er down an’ started cryin’ and screamin’ to keep ’er. In the end, me mum shelled out. Said not to tell me brothers or else they’d want somethin’. She said that as long as I always had that doll, I’d remember our day together. I’ve kept Goldilocks ever since. She’s a bit dirty now, but she’s always wiv me.’

  Caz stopped talking and opened her eyes. Reaching for her bag, she took out the old ragdoll and held it close to her face, smiling awkwardly.

  ‘She sounds like a lovely mother and you were obviously very happy together.’

  Caz lay silent again, as if weighing up whether to continue.

  ‘How did you get on with your brothers?’ Anna changed the emphasis of the conversation. She didn’t want the moment to end now they had got this far.

  Caz turned to one side and took several gulps of the hot, sweet tea, before grinning broadly. ‘They were bleedin’ gits most the time, always fightin’ an’ bundlin’ in the house. Mum used to go mad at them. She would shout at ’em to stop, but they would just laugh at ’er and carry on. But she never really minded. Always said they was good boys. Sometimes they would get into scrapes with other boys who would tease us all ’cause we was poor. Joey, my oldest brother, would fight anyone who said anything bad ’bout me mum. One day he got into a fight with this other boy and broke his nose. Anyway, this boy’s dad came round to have a word. Mum tried to stick up for Joey, but she started cryin’. I never saw her cry before. Anyway, this man put his arm round me mum and they started talkin’. Kept talkin’ all night and was still there in the mornin’. That was when everything changed.

  ‘He moved in and they started goin’ off down the pub. Me brothers looked after me ’cause I was only seven, but they was only young ’emselves; Joey was fourteen an’ Mickey an’ Ed, were thirteen an’ ten. Me mum and ’im would come back late from the pub, stinkin’ of booze. After a while, they just started drinkin’ at home.

  ‘She never done nothin’ for us after that. I wanted me old mum back. Like she was when he weren’t there. Fuckin’ bastard, his name was Tommy. I’ll never forgive him for takin’ me mum away from us.’

  Caz’s expression was set hard.

  ‘I’m not saying nothin’ more now. He was the bastard that destroyed our family and I hate him. I hate him. He took me mum away from me, away from us. I don’t think he cared a fuck ’bout anything, not even me mum. He just used her and us.’

  Caz sat up, rubbing her eyes, and Anna knew the conversation was over. As quickly as Caz had opened up, so the shutters had now come down.

  Anna, however, was elated. To have been gifted with this glimpse into Caz’s life was more than she could have hoped. It was a time when Caz had known true contentment, and this was what she was trying to rediscover; a life where she was wanted, loved and secure and, above all, where she was happy. Anna now understood exactly what Caz wanted from Razor. It was what she too had constantly longed for; the all-encompassing love of another, the quest to return to a state of idyllic acceptance.

  Anna watched transfixed as Caz tenderly tucked Goldilocks away in her bag. This doll, so dirty, so ravaged, was the mirror image of Caz, a beautiful child broken by her upbringing. Anna longed to reach out to Caz, take hold of both her and the doll and clean them, mend them and replenish them. But as clearly as she now understood the raw desperation that drove Caz to idolise Razor blindly above all others, so too did she know with awful clarity that Razor would never be able to provide the security and love which Caz yearned for.

  It might yet be up to her to step in and save Caz from herself.

  Chapter 27

  Razor entered the communal doorway of Covington House and listened. He could hear the chatter of the usual addicts as the meeting place began to fill. It was nearing 3 p.m. and within a few minutes, a mobile phone would shrill with the location of that day’s dealer. Razor knew the routine.

  A few of the users were looking out from the window in the stairwell, a particularly mean-looking pimp called M keeping an eye out for any police. As Razor climbed towards them he recognised three of the regular girls sitting on a stair, beer cans in hand and arms draped around each other. Mand was in the middle, being supported by two of her mates, Jugs and Marcia. They had been friends for years and looked out for one another.

  Jugs lived up to her name. She had the most enormous tits he’d ever seen and was not afraid to flaunt them. Age had brought with it desperation and Jugs was rumoured to do pretty much anything for cash these days. Marcia was a popular addition to any gathering, with an infectious laugh that would brighten the gloomiest crack house… and an infectious rash that she saved solely for her punters.

  As he approached, Razor heard a screech and Mand launched herself at him. ‘Razor, how are you? I heard the cops took you in for questioning.’

  Razor laughed. Mand was a good girl. At twenty-eight years old, she’d worked the streets for over half her life. ‘I’m fine. I knew they would, but they ain’t got nothin’ on me.’ He pulled her close, his hand roaming down to her buttocks. ‘Anyway, more importantly, when can you come and work for me, Mand? I’ve got a spare room now.’

  Mand squealed and jumped to one side, laughing. ‘You know I can’t, much as I’d like to. DK would do his nut. He’s got himself a piece now and he’s just waitin’ for the chance to use it, so if you don’t fancy a bullet in your arse, you’d better get your hand off mine.’

  The waiting crowd all grunted their appreciation.

  ‘Don’t you go thinkin’ your arse is worth takin’ a bullet for,’ Razor chuckled. ‘And anyway I respect DK, but if he ever turfed you out…’ He gave Mand a playful wink before becoming serious. ‘I do need to get my shit sorted though.’ He offered round a packet of cigarettes. ‘Firstly, I need to know who’s givin’ Dutch extra gear. She’s obviously takin’ more than just my white.’

  He flicked his lighter and the girls leant in, sucking at the flame before Marcia spoke. ‘I was told there’s a new dealer called Turbo up your way, offerin’ freebies to get people on board. I heard Dutch is gettin’ her extras from ’im.’

  ‘Sounds like he needs to be put in his place,’ M growled. Muscling in on another’s patch was against the dealers’ code of conduct. This Turbo needed to be squared up.

  ‘Watch it though, Razor,’ Marcia blew out a mouthful of smoke. ‘Word is he’s carrying a piece too, and he ain’t afraid to use it, neither.’

  Razor swore silently to himself. Perhaps his blades needed an upgrade after all.

  ‘He won’t ’ave time to reach for it, never mind use it when I find ’im.’ He had to show strength, but he could really have done without this distraction. Turbo was an irrelevance, but Dutch needed to be brought into line speedily. Tonight she’d be out on the streets earning, whether she liked it or not. At least Caz was back on track, seemingly taking as much pleasure in their night-time activities as he. She was acting a little weird though, but at least she was doing what she was told.

  The sound of Mand’s mobile phone ringing focussed his mind on his second priority just as the group got ready to leave. DK was doing that afternoon’s drugs run.

  ‘Before you go.’ Razor put his a
rm across the stairwell to prevent them leaving. ‘Tell me all you know about The Punter who you think has done Redz.’

  They silenced and Mand turned towards him.

  ‘He picked me up once. The minute we got to my normal spot he started to cut up rough, callin’ me a fuckin’ slag and threatenin’ to kill me. He beat me an’ raped me and kept saying I deserved it. I thought I was goin’ to die. Then he just pushed me out of the car and drove off. Never gave me a second glance.

  ‘I was goin’ to tell the cops, but what’s the point! So I just warned the other girls ’bout ’im.’ She stopped and shook her head. ‘I’ve seen ’im around since though, in his little black car an’ I saw him near Redz’ area the night she got done.’

  She ran through his description again. Tall, heavily built Asian man, always wearing a long black leather coat and chunky jewellery.

  ‘I need to teach this bastard a lesson that he won’t ever forget.’ Razor pulled a blade out from the edge of his wallet and whipped it through the air. ‘Pass my number on to the other girls. If any of you see him, tell ’em to bell me straight away, right?’

  The group nodded solemnly. No girl was safe with this punter still on the loose.

  M reached out to shake his hand. ‘If you need any help when you find him, let me know. I’d be only too glad to help you fuck ’im up.’

  Razor took a last drag on his cigarette and threw it down, grinding it hard into the concrete. He would enjoy slicing this big man up good and proper.

  ‘He’s all mine,’ he replied grimly, exhaling the smoke so it hung in a haze around their heads. ‘But I’ll let you know when I’ve finished with ’im and you’re more than welcome to add a few more words of yer own.’

  Chapter 28

  ‘We’re on our way,’ Charlie swung the car round and pushed her foot hard on the accelerator. After the frustration of the negative ID parade, she was desperate for something to go their way on either case.

  The rental company where they were heading to, in Tulse Hill, was less than a fifteen minute drive away.