He Knows Your Secrets Page 9

  ‘What’s going on?’ Kelly asked, keeping her voice down. She couldn’t believe that the other residents had no idea what was going on but she had been warned always to be quiet when in the corridor. Now it was force of habit.

  ‘Upgrade,’ he grinned.

  Kelly shrugged. She pushed past him. They bumped shoulders as she stumbled into the room. The layout was identical: the bed was the same, as was the lighting rig, the laptop setup and the webcam. She looked for a place to put her bag down. That was when she realised she wasn’t alone. A young girl flinched on the other side of the room. Her eyes were flushed red and tears ran down her face. She took a sharp intake of breath as their eyes locked.

  ‘Who the hell is this?’ Kelly said.

  ‘Fucked if I know,’ Benny said.

  ‘She’s a kid. What the hell is a kid doing here?’

  Benny’s leer remained. ‘Old enough.’

  ‘Surely you don’t . . . No way! You think I’m working with her? No way!’

  The girl sniffed. Her eyes shed fresh tears. She looked to be battling with her breathing.

  ‘Like I was saying to her, Kell. You ain’t got no choice! How about I let you girls get acquainted? You got four minutes by my watch. Ain’t a lot of time, granted. Best you tell her what’s what.’ He walked past her this time, but he made sure their shoulders collided again — harder this time. ‘Pretty, ain’t she? Don’t say I don’t give you nothing!’ The slamming door cut off his chuckling.

  Kelly turned to the girl. ‘What’s your name?’ she snapped.

  The girl’s voice just came out as a wail.

  ‘You need to calm down, okay? I’m not going to hurt you. But there are people here who will if we don’t calm down and sort this out. So, what is your name?’ She softened her tone as best she could. It still had an edge, though — nothing she could do about that; she was trying to conceal her own panic.

  The girl’s head slumped forward and shook rhythmically from side to side. She was talking again but it was through tears, it was more like a constant sound than individual words. Kelly walked over to her, careful to hang back a little and to give the girl space. Movement on the laptop monitor caught her eye: the camera had captured her moving across the front of it; the monitor had a second or so lapse. She could tell from the display that they were already live. This exchange was already streaming out via the internet to a million voyeurs. Lines of text were appearing thick and fast, each one accompanied by the chime sound she had come to hate so much. Already the comments were enough to make her feel nauseous. The girl might be off camera now but the watching members had certainly caught sight of her. She was already popular, the comments suggesting that they liked the fact she was young but, more than that, they liked the fact that she was crying. The punters were baying for the performance to start. Kelly knew from experience they were not patient people. She also knew that Freddie and his crew were even less so.

  She moved so she was off camera too and close enough that they should be able to talk without the microphone picking it up. She knew there were other cameras, too — at least two in the corners that were solely for Benny to monitor them constantly. She couldn’t be sure where he was doing this from today but she knew he would be close.

  ‘Listen to me. You need to calm down, okay? We need to work this out. You’re going to be okay but you need to talk to me. Have you been here before?’ Kelly certainly hadn’t see her and she was young, definitely too young. She had long brown hair tied back from a face that would be pretty if it wasn’t puffed red, with make-up running down it.

  ‘They . . . they made me . . .’

  ‘Okay . . . listen to me,’ Kelly leaned in. The girl was still looking down. Kelly touched her lightly on the shoulder and she stepped back so quickly she almost toppled over. ‘Woah! I’m not going to hurt you, okay?’

  ‘They hurt me.’

  ‘I know. They hurt me, too — before. But I learned how to get through this. You can, too.’

  ‘Get through?’

  ‘What’s your name? And say it quietly.’

  The girl sniffed and then breathed her response, ‘Libby. My name is Libby.’

  ‘Okay, Libby, that’s good. So you’ve been here before? And you know why? What’s expected?’ The girl’s eyes were dragged to the monitor. The chime sound was going off almost constantly now, the lines of text coming through so fast they were merging into each other. Kelly had never really taken much notice before; she did her best to ignore the words, the requests. Holly always took charge of that and she would do her best to shield Kelly from them.

  ‘Expected?’

  ‘Yes. The reason you are here. Do you know why you are here?’ She was angry now; she couldn’t keep her voice low. This girl needed to snap out of it. They were going to have to do something soon. ‘You need to answer me. This is not something that is going to end just because you’re crying, okay? It only gets worse.’

  ‘He told me! He told me, I thought he was joking. I thought last night was it!’

  ‘Last night? What happened last night?’

  ‘I was out. With my boyfriend. Someone brought me here. I was drinking a lot. I don’t really know how we got here. We were looking for somewhere to stay. The driver said he knew a place. When we got here . . . They beat him. My boyfriend, he’s in hospital. Then they made me . . . in front of the camera. I don’t remember it so well. I had to take my clothes off. There was a man here too . . . I don’t remember what he looked like!’ She started to cry again but Kelly could see she was fighting it this time. When she spoke again her lips were soaked in her own tears.

  ‘There was more drink here. I didn’t want it but they made me. When it was finished . . . when it was finished, they said they would send it to everyone in my phone if I didn’t come back, send out what I had done. They held onto my phone. I only came back for it and then he tells me that I have to do it again . . .’ She had to fight her sobs again. Kelly waited.

  ‘I should have told the police. They came to my house but I just lied. I said nothing happened. I could have just told them! But my mum . . . If she knew . . .’ She was working herself up again, Kelly needed her to stay calm. She touched her shoulder again, this time Libby didn’t pull away.

  ‘Do you know what they need from you today?’

  ‘Strip . . .’ She said it so quiet that Kelly almost missed it.

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘He said that was all I had to do to start with, but he said I would be working with a girl who would show me the rest. She lifted her eyes. Kelly could see they were filling with panic. ‘Please . . . just let me go!’

  ‘Let you . . . You think this is me? I don’t want to be here anymore than you do!’

  ‘I can’t do it. Not again. Not now!’

  ‘I know — I know how you feel. I remember when . . . I remember when I first came here. They got me the same way, but you can get past it — you have to. These are not people you can say no to. Not right now. We can figure this out, but right now we don’t have a choice, okay?’

  The girl’s eyes moved to the sound of a chime from the laptop and they flared wide. ‘People are watching now, aren’t they? Oh God! Look what they are saying!’

  Kelly turned to look back at the monitor. The bed was pictured in the centre and she could just about see Libby’s back now — nothing else. The text was in three lines along the bottom. It kept to three lines; each time a new request came through it replaced the one at the bottom. They were coming through almost instantaneously, members demanding what they had paid for, working themselves up into a frenzy and most seemed delighted at the prospect of the fresh meat they had seen for just a tantalising amount of time. Already the requests were getting perverse.

  Libby suddenly straightened. ‘I have to go! I don’t care where they send it — I can’t do this!’ Kelly tried to grab her but she was already too far away. She followed her to the door.

  ‘Libby!’ She called out. ‘Libby, don’t be s
illy. Trust me, you won’t get out of here! This isn’t about them sending videos to your friends! Don’t be so naïve. I can help you but we’re going to have to get through the next hour or so. It’s easy, okay?’ Libby stopped at the door. She looked like she was going over her options. Kelly heard a noise from the laptop she had heard before: it was a warning that the feed had been cut. Someone was coming. Libby wrenched the door open.

  ‘LIBBY!’ Kelly shouted.

  ‘I’m going to the police!’ She stepped out of the room but stopped immediately. Libby’s head suddenly jerked down to the right and she stumbled back. Benny came into view. He had a fistful of Libby’s hair. He pushed her further into the room, her hair still wrapped up in his fist, her legs bowing like she was off balance but unable to fall to the floor. He threw her onto the bed, his face a snarl. Kelly stepped in front of him to try and break his focus. He leaned to try and see around her. She could hear Libby screaming. Benny lashed out and Kelly didn’t have time to react. The blow connected firmly with the side of Kelly’s face and knocked her sideways. He moved past her and grabbed another fistful of Libby’s hair. He wrenched her head up to where he was stooped over her.

  ‘Day ONE!’ he raged, his face now an inch from hers. He seemed to check himself, his eyes glancing to the walls before he fixed back on her. His voice was now a hiss but his anger just as prevalent, ‘I was going easy. A dance . . . strip off — each give yourself a little fucking rub and then you could fuck off. But if you wanna cause me trouble I’ll fuck you myself. Right now. On that bed. You gonna cause me trouble? ARE YOU?’ He wrenched her head up closer to his. She moaned, her face contorted in pain.

  ‘No . . .’ she managed.

  He threw her head back to the bed then picked a clump of torn hair out from between his fingers as he straightened up and stepped away. When he stared over at Kelly his eyes were still wide. He jabbed towards her with long fingers. ‘Sort her out, Kell. Show her the fucking ropes before she gets herself seriously hurt, you understand me?’

  Kelly snatched a nod, her hand over her mouth.

  ‘I was trying to be nice. I have to come back in here again and I won’t be nice, you hear me?’

  Kelly nodded again. Libby was now sobbing silently on the bed, her hair a mess and covering her face.

  ‘Look, Benny . . .’ Kelly’s voice was soft, pleading. ‘Look at her, mate. She can’t perform. Not now. How about she stays but she watches, yeah? That way I really can show her what she needs to know. I’ll do a solo like we agreed. Then she knows what’s expected. It’s not fair for her to come here and just—’

  ‘FAIR!’ Kelly flinched as Benny charged at her, stopping inches short to hiss in her face. ‘I’ve been as fair as I get. This ain’t just you on the line! I ain’t the only person watching this feed, you get me?’

  Kelly did. Benny was just the man who opened the door and ran the rooms. There was anger in his voice but there was fear, too — desperation even. For his own sake, he needed them to do what they were told and that made him even more dangerous.

  ‘Okay, Benny, I understand. We’re cool in here, okay? Just give me a few minutes.’ She turned back to the bed. Benny moved away. She waited for the door to pull shut. It was so firm it rattled the walls.

  ‘Libby, you still with me, hun?’ Kelly squatted down, closer to where Libby’s hair flickered as she still rushed her breaths. ‘It’s just a little dance, we take our time, take off some clothes. It’s easy, okay? Just like in the shower, that’s all. Or you’re boyfriend’s birthday!’ She tried a chuckle. ‘Don’t worry about anything else. Don’t worry about the laptop. You let me worry about that. Everything is going to be okay . . .’ Kelly’s own tear caught her out. Through the fog of her own panic she suddenly recognised this speech: it was the exact same one Holly had given her the first time they had met in the room next door — when she was seventeen. Holly had promised her that, too: that everything was going to be okay. More times than Kelly could remember, Holly had promised that she just needed to do as she was told for now and that soon she would be free. And she still wasn’t.

  ‘Please, Libby. We both do this or we’re both in trouble . . . these people . . .’ Kelly ran out of words. The desperation in her voice must have had an impact. The girl rose to a sit. She swept her hair aside. She was biting down on her bottom lip.

  ‘Just a dance,’ she sniffed.

  Kelly smiled, she felt another tear spill down her cheek, this girl was breaking her heart. ‘Just a dance. Just block everything else out. It’s just a dance — and I’ll be right here with you.’

  ‘And everything will be okay?’

  Kelly nodded, ‘I promise.’ The words fell out of her mouth before she could stop them. Maybe this was how Holly had ended up promising her.

  Libby looked beyond her. The chime sounds had started up again, the feed was back up. There was a thump on the wall, the side that would be Flat 12. Their time was up.

  ‘I’ll make a start. Watch what I do. But you can’t be far behind me, okay?’

  Libby nodded.

  Kelly wrapped her up in a hug then held her by the shoulders. ‘Just a dance.’ Then she turned away and stepped out in front of the camera.

  Chapter 15

  Monday

  6:30 on a Monday morning was always going to be a time to scowl at a ringing desk phone. No one should have even known Maddie was in the office. Lord knows, she wasn’t due to be but she couldn’t sleep and had abandoned bed for an early start. She had every intention of coming in to work on the Harnett case file but her mind was still on Freddie Rickman and she simply couldn’t shake him.

  Mitch Evans had given an update on the collated information just before she had gone off duty from her previous shift. It wasn’t much; she hadn’t really learned anything new. Certainly there was nothing new about the man behind the taxi firm for whom Taruc Mardin had been driving and there was still nothing to explain why Taruc’s car had gone over the edge to a six-hundred-foot drop. The woman sat next to him at the time of the tragedy was linked to prostitution on police intelligence systems, but that intel was two years’ old at best. And even then it wasn’t confirmed. Mitch had managed to find a reluctant informant at Langthorne Taxis. They refused to give their name or contact details but they did say that Taruc had worked for them for less than a month and his reference from his previous job was in the north of the country. That tied in with what his wife had said about them moving to the area recently. Taruc had no links to sex workers and there was nothing about him on police systems at all. The only information she could get about him was that he was a devoted family man who attended Mosque for prayers every Friday, generally kept himself to himself and had an unblemished record driving taxis in different parts of the country for the previous eight years. That, in itself, was no mean feat.

  To add to her frustrations, Maddie hadn’t found a single link between Taruc and Holly Maguire either. Harry had used that to back up his theory of a family man engaging in illicit sexual activity with a sex worker. He would have worked hard to make sure there wasn’t a link he had said. It makes perfect sense. Harry was so matter of fact about it and it grated on her. She didn’t argue with him at the time but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something just wasn’t right. Her early morning start, then, had not seen any progress on her case file — rather, more quiet contemplation that led to the conclusion there was nothing here at all and it was now just about her not wanting Harry to be right. Maybe she was looking for a complicated solution when there was a simple one staring her in the face. But even Harry couldn’t answer her question as to why a prostitute performing a sex act in a car that slipped over a cliff would be clinging tightly to a rucksack, the contents of which seemed to be a mishmash of worthless scribbles and blurred photos. She had called Charley, too for another of those conversations that you could only ever really have with a CSI.

  ‘Charley — the dead girl in the car . . . was she wearing nice underwear?’ Of course Charley had
been a little caught out — she had been just about to go off duty. But after she had finished her incredulous giggle she had confirmed that Holly had been wearing mismatched underwear: off-white Sloggi knickers and a black bra. Hardly the choice of a woman with a pre-arranged sexual encounter.

  Maddie was missing something.

  And now her phone was ringing when no one should know she was there. She looked down at the screen. Someone had dialled the hunt number for Major Crime, which meant the call was to the department rather than her direct. She was relieved momentarily, until she saw who was calling her: Custody.

  ‘Morning . . . Major Crime.’ She managed to sound far more cheerful than she felt.

  ‘Oh! Sorry, I wasn’t expecting anyone to actually pick up!’

  ‘You called a phone not expecting it to be answered?’

  ‘Well, yes, I mean we do it sometimes out of hours. We know you lot have a voicemail that kicks in. I was going to leave a message for a more earthly hour, see?’

  ‘Well you can still do that if you want. I can just listen, not answer back, pretend to be a dumb machine?’

  ‘Is that DS Ives by any chance?’ A male voice now had a chuckle.

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Daryl Chambers. Down in the dungeons.’

  ‘Ah yes! How are you, Daryl?’ Daryl was one of the custody sergeants whose day shift often overlapped with hers. A nice enough bloke but a bit of a walkover she reckoned. A few of the prisoners had commented to her how they liked seeing him behind the desk when they were brought in.

  ‘Ask me again in about half an hour!’

  ‘This is going to be a long conversation, then?’