Ben Cheetham - The Society of Dirty Hearts

“Do you mean like prostitutes?” said Julian.

“No, I mean like Jehovah’s Witnesses,” Ginger retorted sarcastically.

Julian wasn’t surprised, of course. He’d guessed it all along. But even so, without him being aware of it, some tiny part of him had clung to the hope that he was wrong. Sadness clouded his eyes — sadness and something else, something which frightened him like a face leering out from a nightmare. “Where did you take Mia?” His voice was tight and trembling.

“I didn’t take her anywhere. The client’s driver picked us up and took us to his house. We did the job and left.”

“So Mia was fine when you left her.”

“Yeah.” There was something not quite convincing about Ginger’s tone. Julian heard it, and Jake did too. Jake made a threatening movement with the crowbar, prompting Ginger to go on, “Well, she was a bit quiet. You know, kind of faraway. But then she was always like that after we did a job.”

“You mean this wasn’t the first time.”

“No. I’d done a few jobs with her and Jo before.”

“Joanne Butcher?”

Ginger nodded. “I hadn’t seen Mia for months. Then, after Jo died, she came to see me, said she needed money. So I set the job up.”

“Did she say what for?”

“No. Probably for junk.”

“My sister wasn’t no junkie,” snapped Jake, his face contracting into a scowl.

“Okay fine, she wasn’t a junkie, but she needed money for something.”

“Yeah, probably to get the fuck out of this town.”

“Well whatever. We did the job, she went her way and I went mine, and that’s all there is to tell.”

“Who was the client?” asked Julian.

Ginger made no reply, her lips compressing.

“Who was the fuckin’ client?” said Jake.

“Just some guy,” said Ginger. “What does it matter?”

Anger flashed up inside Julian like oil in a frying-pan flaring to flame. He snatched the crowbar off Jake and shoved it into Ginger’s stomach hard enough to force her breath out in a hiss. She tried to push him away, but he caught hold of her hand. “There’s a girl missing. Maybe dead. Maybe runaway. Maybe imprisoned somewhere. So you’re gonna tell us who this fucker is, understand?”

“I dunno his name,” gasped Ginger. “He calls himself Mr X.”

“Mr X?” Julian repeated incredulously. “You’re lying again.”

“It’s the truth. Look, this guy comes to me, says he wants me to keep an eye out for girls like…well, girls like Jo and Mia. What makes you think a guy like that would want me to know his name?”

“You know where he lives, though.”

“Yeah, but like I said, Mr X didn’t do nothing to Mia.”

Julian stared into Ginger’s eyes, darkly. “Yes he did. And you’re gonna take us to his house.”

“Trust me, you really don’t want to go there.”

“Trust you,” said Jake, with something between a laugh and a snarl. “That’s a good one.”

Ginger’s gaze transferred to Jake, and Julian was surprised to glimpse beneath the hard-bitten mask of her face a glimmer of what might’ve been concern. “Leave now and I promise I won’t tell anyone about this.”

“We’re leaving alright, but you’re coming with us.” Jake took a length of rough brown rope from inside his jacket. He tied Ginger’s hands, taking no care to be gentle with her injured hand. Then he took back the crowbar and said to Julian, “Fetch the car.”

Julian sprinted to the car. His hands were shaking so badly he fumbled the keys twice before managing to slide them into the ignition. He parked in the driveway, keeping the motor running. Jake emerged from the house, leading Ginger by the arm. He’d put away the crowbar and the knife glinted in his hand, the point of its blade touching Ginger’s side. They got into the backseat. “Which way?” asked Jake. Ginger said nothing. He pushed the blade a little harder against her and, with an intake of breath, she pointed wordlessly.

Julian followed her finger across town, heading south. Ginger leant forward and spoke in his ear. “You can still stop this before it’s too late,” she said, echoing his thoughts.

“No one’s stopping anything,” hissed Jake.

“This guy, Mr X, he’s not someone you want to mess with.”

“Neither am I.”

Ginger shot Jake a mocking glance. “Oh I know all about you, Jake Bradshaw. Thug, petty thief, loser.”

“At least I’m not a whore.”

“Unlike your sister.”

With a lurking light of violence in his wet, black wolf’s eyes, Jake yanked Ginger backward. “Do you fuckin’ want me to stick this blade in you, or what?”

“Go on then, do it.” There was a sneering undertone of laughter in Ginger’s voice.

“I will if you don’t shut your fuckin’ gob.”

“You haven’t got the balls. I know your type. I’ve known you all my life. You’re a nothing. A lost little boy trying to cover up how shit-scared he is with a lot of big talk.”

Jake’s lips drew back from his teeth in a snarl. “Fuck you! Fucking whore-bitch! Fucking slut!”

As Jake spat the stream of obscenities at Ginger, an image rose into Julian’s mind of his Grandma Alice’s possessed face — the bulging, hate-filled eyes, the flaring nostrils, the sneering grin. Chest constricting as if in a vice, he pulled over and jerked around to glare at Ginger and Jake. “Fucking enough! Both of you,” he managed to squeeze out.

Ginger gave Julian a weighing-up look. “Now you, you’re no born loser. You come from money, don’t you? I can tell. I should be able to. I’ve fucked enough of your kind in my time. What I can’t work out is who you are and what you’re doing here.”

“I’m a friend of Mia’s.”

“So how come I’ve never seen you with her?”

“I’ve only known her a few weeks.”

“Then you’re not her friend. Kids like her don’t make friends easy. Especially not with people like you.” She narrowed her eyes. “No, you’re something else. You look like a nice boy, but there’s something about you — your voice, or your eyes, or something…”

Julian’s fingers dug into the headrest, his eyes jumping around in a quick, jittery way. “There it is again,” said Ginger. “It’s in the eyes. Can’t you see it, Jake?”

“I dunno what you’re on about,” muttered Jake. He frowned at Julian. “Do you know what she’s on about?”

Julian shook his head. He couldn’t speak. The car seemed airless. “Course he knows,” said Ginger. “That fucker’s got shifty eyes. Like he’s got something to hide.”

Her voice was like fingernails on a blackboard, scratching at Julian’s nerves. All he could think about was shutting her up. His eyes landed on the knife in Jake’s hand. “You’d like to use that on me, wouldn’t you?” said Ginger, taunting, but with a quiver of nervousness in her voice. “Bet you’d like to fuck me while you’re using it n’all. That what you did to Mia, is it, hmm?”

That was more than Julian could take. He jumped out the car, sucking for air to shout, “Sick! You’re sick!” It wasn’t clear if the words were directed at Ginger or himself.

Jake got out too. He pointed the knife at Julian, suspicion rife in his eyes. “Why would she say that?”

“She’s trying to turn you against me, distract us from what we’re here to do.”

Jake looked hard at Julian for a moment. “I guess you’re right.” He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he lowered the knife and ducked back into the car. “Come on, let’s get this fuckin’ over with.”

Taking a steadying breath, Julian got back behind the wheel. “Fifteen,” he said, looking at Ginger in the rear-view mirror. “Mia and Joanne were only fifteen. How do you live with yourself?”