Nathan sighed as he took a seat across from the young woman who had introduced herself simply as ‘Cathy’. Her make-up was gaudy, her eyes mistrustful, and her clothes smelt like she had lived in them for a month. He really didn’t have time for this today. The clubs were Lenny’s responsibility, and he had better things to do than interview some street rat looking for a job.
She wiped her nose with the back of her hand, her dark kohl-lined eyes peeping out from under her blunt fringe. ‘I heard you’re taking on girls. I need a job.’
Nathan shook his head. He was getting too old for this shit. ‘I’m not running a crèche here, love. What age are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?’
She glared at him, eyes alight with a fire of indignation. ‘I’m twenty.’ Producing a bent-up passport, she slid it across the table. A sad, pale-faced girl stared out from the passport photo. Nathan examined the paperwork. He could spot a fake a mile off, mainly because they used to make good money from producing them. This was the real thing.
She reached out to snatch it back, and Nathan clamped down her arm, pushing up the sleeve of her jacket to examine her skin for puncture marks. Satisfied she was clean, he released his grip.
‘Did he tell you what the job entails?’
‘I’m not a kid. I’ve been living on the streets long enough to know how things work around here. Is there a job going or not?’
‘Take your top off.’
Cathy’s eyes darted left and right as she stood. ‘Can’t we go somewhere a bit more… private?’
Nathan screwed his face in disgust. ‘Jesus, I’m not interested in that; I’m checking you for wires.’ Like anyone who attended the club out of hours she had been searched on the way in. But there was something about the lack of fear behind her eyes that made Nathan uncomfortable. He had seen that defiance before, and it usually brought him nothing but trouble.
‘Oh. It’s just that I heard Lenny likes to… ’ she said, pulling off her sweatshirt. She stood before him: her skinny frame encompassed in a black bra and jeans.
‘Well, I’m not Lenny.’ Nathan signalled at her to turn around. She was too young to carry the scars and bruises that mapped her body, and he dropped his gaze.
‘Do you want me to take the rest of my clothes off?’ Cathy said, reaching around to remove her bra.
‘Get dressed,’ Nathan said, in a voice that was not to be disobeyed.
Cathy sniffed in disgust as she pushed her head through her jumper. ‘I fucking hate the cops; all they ever give me is grief.’
She was nothing more than a kid, and Nathan shuddered to think what Lenny would be doing with her now had he been the one interviewing. Nathan had moved the escorting service online, closing down the shoddy massage parlours and backstreet knocking stops. But he still had a long way to go in order to persuade Lenny to shut down that leg of the business completely. His brother enjoyed having girls on tap. ‘You don’t want to work for us,’ Nathan said. ‘Why don’t you go home to your family?’
‘My parents don’t care about me,’ Cathy said, sullenly. ‘I’ll do whatever you want. Please. I don’t have nowhere to live. I’ve been sleeping under the bridge, but there’s some weirdos hanging around and I don’t feel safe there anymore.’
‘There’s weirdos everywhere,’ Nathan said, drumming his fingers against the table. ‘We just deal with rich ones.’ Nathan rubbed his stubbled chin. Getting her into escorting would be like feeding her to the sharks. Sure the clientele had improved, but he could not assure her safety, and despite her bolshy attitude he could not shake off the feeling he was taking advantage of a vulnerable young girl.
‘I’m not asking for a hand-out; I’m asking for a job. I’ve heard your girls make good money as escorts.’
‘Sorry, babe, but it’s not for you. You’re too young for a start and way too skinny. Here,’ he said, reaching into his trouser pocket and pulling a twenty-pound note. ‘Go and sort yourself out with a hot meal. I can’t help you.’
Cathy pushed the money away. ‘Please, Mr Crosby. I just need somewhere I can wash and lay my head at night. I’m a good worker. I’ll do as many hours as you want.’
Nathan frowned. She was not going to give up. He imagined her lying in the doorway of his club, making him look bad. It was only a matter of time before some scumbag took advantage of her. Someone like Frenchie, who fed his girls on a diet of smack and greasy STD-ridden punters.
‘Oi, Jules,’ Nathan waved at one of the barmaids, a mixed-race girl with an East London accent. Dressed in the uniform of black shirt and trousers, she sauntered over, frowning, as she clapped eyes on Cathy.
‘Not you again. I told you to bugger off,’ she said, her jaw mechanically working on a wad of chewing gum. ‘Honestly, Mr Crosby, she’s been bugging me all week. I’ve told her you don’t take on street kids, but she wouldn’t leave me alone.’
Nathan did not take kindly to being told what he did or did not do. ‘You’re short at the bar, aren’t you?’ he said, shoving the twenty pound note into Jules’s hand, pulling another tenner from his pocket and laying it on top. ‘Show her upstairs so she can have a wash, and buy her a change of clothes. She can have a trial behind the bar tonight; we’ll see how she goes.’
‘Cheers,’ Cathy said, breaking into a smile.
Nathan grabbed Cathy’s wrist. ‘Don’t you go stealing from me, mind. People that steal from me soon live to regret it.’
Nathan pulled the terse look he always did when Ruby’s name flashed up on the screen. He had just got rid of one ball of grief and now, here she was, a reminder of a past he was trying hard to forget. ‘Yes?’ he said, his forehead creasing in a frown.
‘Oh, nice. Hello to you too,’ she said, the wind muffling her voice.
Was she on her way home from work? Out on a job? Was she safe? Nathan’s jaw tightened as he tried to quell his concern. ‘What do you want, Ruby?’
‘I’ve something to ask you. Are you on your own?’
‘Yes. Go on,’ he said, trying not to be lured in by the sound of her voice. He thought of the scent of her skin, her lips, her teeth, her tongue.
‘We’re investigating a series of murders: women who have been gagged, bound and their bodies staged in expensive properties for the police to find. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about them would you?’
‘You’ve come to the wrong place if you’re expecting me to help the police with their enquiries,’ Nathan said drily. He did know about it. The last two bodies had turned up in properties which were on his books.
Despite his frostiness, Ruby breathed a good-natured laugh. ‘Okay, okay you can’t blame a girl for trying. We’re on the lookout for a young woman, early twenties. White girl, not very tall, slim, either black or blonde hair, goes by the name of Lucy. She was in the homeless shelter but she’s moved on. Apparently she’s looking for work. If you see anyone suspicious in the area, can you let me know?’
‘As I said… I’m no grass.’
‘She could be a murderer.’
‘I don’t care if she’s Myra fucking Hindley. I’ve told you, I—’
‘Don’t help police. Yeah. Innocent women have been killed, and it’s not ending there. But don’t you worry your head. You go back to whatever important work you’re doing. I’m sure it’s a wonderful contribution to society.’
Nathan stared in disbelief as the line went dead. She hung up on him. She actually hung up on him. Of all the bloody…
‘She was in the homeless shelter, but she’s moved on. Apparently she’s looking for work… ’ Ruby’s description of her suspect echoed in his brain. It was a description that could fit anyone, yet… ‘Lucy’. A name which invoked pain, past memories. He had seen Cathy’s passport. It couldn’t be her. It wasn’t possible. He could ring Ruby now, ask her to come around unofficially to speak to the girl. But the thought was fleeting. Police were not welcome in his establishments, and if there was a problem to sort out he would see to it himself.