Chapter Fourteen

 

Barbara very carefully listened to the local news, assiduously reading the papers as well. The case gained a lot of national publicity, mainly because of the vigilante angle. Nothing was ever mentioned about the prick in the mouth, just that his body had been mutilated. It was obvious that the police had investigated thoroughly, especially the taxi and the night club. They had even found the connection with the Wagon and Horses, because the first taxi had collected them from there. No-one could give an accurate description of the mystery woman who was with him, and a lot of people had been in both taxis in the meantime so it was impossible to trace any forensic evidence back to her. Likewise back at the flat, as she had been very careful not to leave any traces. Previously she had never been into the pub, so she knew that apart from a fluke she was in the clear there, and the footballer’s girlfriend had been so thick that she couldn’t possibly remember anything to identify Barbara. There was only one potential complication, which was her victim’s brother, but as they had only met briefly, she was quite sure that unless there was a chance encounter she had also covered herself here. All in all, a very satisfactory outcome. Where she had been amazed was in her coolness. And the fact that she had enjoyed what she had done. She wasn’t necessarily looking forward to the next occasion, because another time there most surely would be, but she was not repulsed by her actions. It had been a real sexual turn-on, dressing up for him, making him come in her hand, all the time knowing that it was going to be the last thing that he ever did. Control was her aphrodisiac. She wasn’t complacent, but after a couple of months she knew that the police’s enthusiasm to find the killer of a rapist had waned so she was in the clear. Until she was on the bus one afternoon and a middle-aged man came and sat next to her. She didn’t bother looking at him, continuing staring out the window. After a couple of stops she realised that he was staring at her.

‘Stop staring, or I’ll go and sit somewhere else.’

‘That might not be such a wise thing to do, bearing in mind that I own the house where a man was murdered.’

Barbara was stunned.

‘Shall we get off at the next stop? I could do with a cup of coffee, and I think you could too. You look like you’ve just had a nasty shock.’

‘You can get off if you like, I’m continuing to my stop.’

‘Fine by me, Barbara, or should I say Tracy, I know where you live, so we can continue this conversation another time. Privately of course, as I am sure that you wouldn’t really like anyone else joining in.’ The man rang the bell, got off the bus, leaving Barbara sitting there stunned. She spent the rest of the journey thinking, and by the time she was at her front door she realised that there might be something occurring that could potentially be to her advantage.

Firstly, she knew where the man lived. He had told her. Second, he had done nothing with the police, because if he had, then she wouldn’t have been sitting on the bus. Third, he must want something, couldn’t be money, she didn’t have any as she was only still a student, so until she could work out what he wanted, there was nothing more she could do. However, he knew where she lived. Potential stalemate until she knew more. Nothing to be gained by worrying, so she continued with her daily life as if nothing had occurred. Three days later he was on the same bus.

‘Wondered how long it would be,’ she said. ‘I’m getting off at the next stop for coffee. You can join me if you like.’

He had an intelligent smile as he replied ‘that’s what I like about you. Cool, not bothered, waiting to hear what I have to say before taking your next course of action. Intelligent, because you have already worked out that there is something occurring that’s potentially to your advantage. I’m ready for a coffee, and maybe even a nice cake.’

He took her right arm as they got off the bus, guiding her quite unnecessarily to a Cafe Nero.

‘What’ll it be?’ he asked.

‘Black regular Americano, with a Danish.’

‘There’s a table over there’, he pointed, joining the queue. She sat patiently waiting his return, intrigued, with a little grin on her face. She thought that she was going to enjoy this, and wasn’t disappointed. They just spoke of anodyne things while they ate their pastries, and when they had wiped their mouths, he said

‘Lovely to meet you at last Barbara. Let me say first how much I admired your handiwork. Excellent touch, putting his prick in his mouth, and you must be genuinely competent because after all this time the police are no closer to catching you now than they were then.’

She saw no point in trying to deny anything. ‘Thanks, but what I would like to know is, I am quite sure that you must have seen me at the house that night, but how did you find me, and what proposition do you have for me?’

‘That’s what I like, an intelligent lady getting to the point. I won’t insult your intelligence, as I suspect that we will be working together for quite a few years. My real name is Michael Spencer, but most people in my professional circle know me as Busy Mick. That’s because I make it my business to know what’s going on. That’s how I found you, because initially I admired what you had done, then as I discovered more, I thought that I had a potential gem here, someone who was good at what they did, not getting caught, and could possibly assist me in my business.’

‘Ah,’ she said, ‘and what is your business?’

‘I’m a fixer. Of the criminal variety. I finance things. Say for example there’s some toerags who want to buy some coke, they’ve got a deal going, but need finance, they put the word out and I listen to the whisper. If I like what they are doing, then I put up the money. For a fee. But most of what I do comes through trusted reliable sources, people I’ve been dealing with for years. I know them, they know me, it’s unusual to take on new business. But if there’s sufficient merit, then I will look at new propositions. Which is where you come in. Let’s have a hypothetical situation. I have an ‘associate’ who has taken a liberty, and needs teaching a permanent public lesson. That’s where you come in. I pay for your talent. And a talent and gift you have, make no mistake.’

And that is how Barbara became a professional hit woman.