M. Arlidge - Pop Goes the Weasel

The was a brief, pregnant pause, before Helen replied:

‘It is customary for the senior investigating officer to handle the press and it’s probably best if I do it. I know all the hacks round here -’

‘I think I can handle a few journalists. I’ve had more experience of this sort of thing than you and it is imperative that it runs smoothly this time. I’ll ask DS Brooks to sit in to answer any specifics if that becomes necessary. I really think you’ll be better used on the ground.’

Helen nodded but could feel the ground shifting beneath her feet once more.

‘It’s your call.’

‘Indeed. Keep me up to speed with any developments.’

‘Ma’am.’

Helen turned and left. As she walked down the corridor back to the investigation room, her blood boiled. Now that they were finally making progress, Helen was being nudged out of the picture. She had seen it before – senior officers who climb high by riding on the coattails of others – and she’d always abhorred it. She had to put her irritation to one side though. They had a killer to catch. But even as she locked her anger away, it fizzled and burned.

Helen had hoped she would be able to work with Harwood. That she would be a pleasant change from Whittaker. But the truth was, Helen deeply disliked Harwood.

And they both knew it.

‘Thanks for staying with me, Tony. I’d have gone crazy on my own.’

It was nearly 10 a.m., but neither Tony nor Melissa had slept. Once they had completed the e-fit, they had been whisked across town in an unmarked car to a safe house in the centre of Southampton. A plain-clothes officer sat in a car out front to ward off any casual callers, whilst Tony and Melissa holed up inside. She had insisted Tony stay and he’d been happy to do so – now that they were making progress he didn’t want to take any chances.

Despite the exhaustion that gripped them both, they were too wired to relax. Tony knew where the ‘emergency’ bottle of whisky was kept, so he’d dug it out and they’d both had a couple to try and take the edge off the day. Slowly the relaxing effect of the alcohol had done its work, reducing the anxiety and adrenalin a little.

Melissa hated silence – hated her own thoughts – so they had talked and talked. She had asked him questions about the case, about Angel, and he’d answered as best he could and in return he’d asked her questions about herself. She told him she’d fled an alcoholic mother in Manchester but had left her younger brother behind. She often wondered what had become of him and clearly felt guilty for deserting him. She had got herself into endless trouble as she’d freewheeled south, but in spite of everything she had survived. The booze and drugs hadn’t killed her and neither had the job.

The darkness of the night had cocooned them, making Melissa feel anonymous and out of harm’s way. But as the sun rose and another day dawned, her anxiety began to grow. She paced the house, peering through the curtains, as if expecting trouble.

‘Shouldn’t there be someone out back as well?’ she asked.

‘It’s all right, Melissa. You’re safe.’

‘If Anton finds out what I’ve done. Or Lyra -’

‘They’ll only find out once they’re in the dock and facing a stretch. Nobody knows you’re here, nobody can touch you.’

Melissa shrugged as if she only half believed him.

‘All you’ve got to think about is what you do next. Once it’s all done with.’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘I mean… you don’t have to go back to the streets. There are programmes that can help you get out. Addiction treatment, counselling, training…’

‘You trying to save me, Tony?’ she replied, teasing.

Tony felt himself blushing.

‘No… well, kind of. I know you’ve been through a lot, but this could be the break you need. You’ve done something strong, something good, you shouldn’t waste this opportunity.’

‘You sound just like my dad used to.’

‘Well, he was right. You’re better than this.’

‘You really don’t know anything, do you, Tony?’ she replied, though her tone was not unkind. ‘You ever worked vice?’

Tony shook his head.

‘Thought not,’ Melissa continued. ‘If you had, then you wouldn’t be bothering.’

‘I hope I would.’

‘You’d be one in a million,’ Melissa replied, laughing bitterly. ‘Do you know what girls like us do? What we’ve been through to end up like this?’

‘No, but I can im-’

‘We’ve lied and cheated and stolen. We’ve been beaten up, spat on, raped. We’ve had knives held to our throats, been choked half to death. We’ve done heroin, crack, uppers, downers, booze. We’ve not changed for a week, puked in our sleep. And then we’ve got up and done it all again.’

She let her words hang in the air, then carried on:

‘So I appreciate you trying, but it’s too late.’

Tony looked at Melissa. He knew she was telling the truth but it seemed such a horrible waste. She was still young and attractive – she clearly had a good brain and a big heart. Was it fair to consign her to a lifetime of brutality?

‘It’s never too late. Take this chance. I can help you -’

‘For God’s sake, Tony. Have you listened to a word I’ve said?’ she spat back. ‘I’m broken. There’s no way back for me – Anton saw to that.’

‘Anton’s gone.’

‘Not in here, he isn’t,’ she said, rapping the side of her head viciously. ‘Do you know what he did to me? What he did to us?’

Tony shook his head, wanting to know and not wanting to know.

‘Normally he’d just use his lighter or a cigarette. Burn us on the arms, the back of the neck, the soles of our feet. Somewhere that’d hurt like fuck but wouldn’t put the punters off. That was for small things. But if we’d done something really bad, he’d take us on a little trip.’

Tony said nothing, watching Melissa intently. It was as if she were no longer talking to him, instead inhabiting some dark memory elsewhere.

‘He’d drive you out to the old cinema on Upton Street. Belonged to a mate of his – it was a dirty great hole full of rats. All the way we’d be begging him to forgive us, let us go, but that’d only make him more angry. Once we got there, he’d…’

She hesitated before continuing.

‘… he had this bicycle chain, big chunky thing with a padlock on the end, and he’d hit you with it. Over and over again until you couldn’t get up and run even if you wanted to. He’d be shouting and hollering as he beat you, calling you every name under the sun, until he’d run out of steam. And when you were lying there… like a rag doll in the dirt and the blood and the filth wishing you were dead… he’d piss on you.’

Her voice was shaking now.

‘Then he’d bugger off and leave you there for the night. People said some girls froze to death there, but if you didn’t… then the next day you’d clean yourself up and go back to work. Praying that you’d never make him angry again.’

Tony looked at her. Her whole body was shaking.

‘That’s the kind of people we are, Tony. He did that to us and now that’s all we’re good for. That’s all I am now. That’s all I can be. Do you understand?’

Tony nodded, though he wanted to tell her she was wrong, that she could be saved.

‘The best that I can hope for is that it won’t kill me. That just for a little bit I can be safe.’

‘You’re safe now. I’ll make sure of it.’

‘My hero,’ she replied, smiling through her tears.

She allowed herself to be held. He was supposed to carry on questioning her, but suddenly he didn’t want to ask her about the darkness and the filth and the violence. He wanted to take her away from that, take her to a better place. He wanted to save her.