Friendless Lane Read online

  ‘Jack, I can’t breathe,’ Lilly mumbled.

  When he still wouldn’t let her go, she struggled free, pushing away from his chest, laughing.

  ‘I’m fine, you daft bugger.’

  He took a step back and looked her up and down, checking for any signs of damage. Satisfied, he finally allowed his shoulders to relax.

  ‘Do you want to tell me what you were doing up at Field High School?’ he asked. ‘And don’t give me any bullshit.’

  ‘Okay, I admit it, I was having a snoop.’

  For the love of God, would she never learn?

  ‘What about Julia Blythe?’

  ‘Same,’ said Lilly. ‘But I swear to you that I had no idea she would be there.’ Her face fell. ‘When I saw her, I should have guessed something was up.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She’s desperate, Jack. Her daughter is being abused and the police won’t do anything!’

  ‘We can’t do anything.’

  ‘You can try to find her,’ said Lilly. ‘Hussain must know where she is.’

  ‘We don’t know that.’

  ‘If it was Alice, wouldn’t you try to get it out of him?’

  A nauseous lump formed in Jack’s throat. The thought of anyone harming Alice made him burn with something uncontrollable. He knew that if it had been Alice, he might have used that knife on Hussain. But what could he do? His orders to leave Hussain alone were crystal.

  ‘Anyway, it’s lucky I was there,’ Lilly added. ‘She might have killed him otherwise.’

  ‘She might have killed you,’ said Jack.

  Lilly gave a long, slow shake of the head. ‘She gave the knife to me as soon as I asked her. She wouldn’t have hurt me.’

  Jack groaned. When it came to children, Lilly had a blind spot. She’d do whatever it took, even if her own safety was compromised. She couldn’t see that when someone was waving a ruddy great carving knife around, there could be collateral damage. Knives didn’t care whether or not you were on the side of the angels.

  ‘Jack.’

  The door to the nick had opened and Byron stood in the doorway. He was blinking back tears.

  ‘What’s up?’ Jack asked.

  A tear slid down the young lad’s face, like a perfect glass pearl.

  ‘It’s Lauren,’ he said.

  Jack felt the lump in his throat expand. Something was very wrong.

  ‘She’s been stabbed,’ said Byron.

  ‘How bad is it?’

  Byron was crying openly now. ‘Really bad, Jack. She’s dead.’

  [#]

  The news on the grapevine was that Tonks, Kelsey’s usual dealer, had ODed.

  There was some disagreement as to whether she was actually dead, or in intensive care. Either way, she wasn’t serving up, so it didn’t really matter.

  The CYB ran a flat in most of the towers, but Kelsey avoided them where she could. The gear was all the same, but she hated the way the boys made you queue like it were the flaming checkout in Asda. At least Tonks let you sit down and have a bit of a chat. She were just a user, making a bit on the side to help with cash flow, but the CYB was a proper operation. A business.

  There were a few crack houses where Kelsey knew she could find rocks, but the temptation to join the others and do the whole stash back to back was a hard one to beat.

  She sighed and headed to the CYB flat in Milton House. When she got in the lift, someone else dived in after her and she quickly reached into her pocket for her pepper spray.

  ‘All right?’ he said.

  He was wearing a mental jester’s hat in red and green velvet, but the Plan B T-shirt and smell of shite were unmistakable. Carlo Cutler from the substance abuse unit. Kelsey relaxed her grip on the pepper spray.

  ‘Not bad,’ she said.

  The doors of the lift closed and she pressed the button for the sixth floor. She didn’t need to ask Carlo where he was headed.

  ‘I fucking hate the CYB,’ said Carlo.

  Kelsey nodded in agreement.

  ‘Gotta sort myself out,’ he said. ‘But that fat wanker at the unit turned me down for a place in rehab.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  Carlo wiped his nose on the sleeve of his filthy denim jacket. His snot left a slug trail from the cuff to the elbow.

  ‘He said there were outstanding warrants for me and I have to sort them out first.’

  He shrugged one shoulder, making it clear that that was never going to happen. Surrendering himself to the five-o, knowing full well they’d stick him in custody for absconding, weren’t part of his Plan C or D.

  The doors opened and they got out. A woman stood outside the flat nearest to the lifts, shaking a doormat over the balcony. She took one look at Kelsey and Carlo, kissed her teeth.

  ‘You won’t find what you want here,’ she told them.

  They ignored her and walked past.

  ‘You lot might as well clear off,’ she called after them.

  When they got to the CYB flat, they discovered what the silly cow were on about. The door and windows were sealed with metal shutters bolted to the walls, and there were strips of yellow police tape stretched across all of them.

  ‘Shit,’ said Carlo.

  They turned around and trudged back along the walkway. The woman were still outside, her doormat back in place, her arms crossed.

  ‘Go do your nasty business somewhere else,’ she said, making a shooing motion with her hand.

  The way she said business made it sound like she might be talking about them doing a shit. Maybe that’s how she saw it. Like Kelsey and the rest were shitting on her doorstep.

  When they got back downstairs, it had started to rain and a figure approached them, hood up. It was Talisa. She didn’t greet Kelsey, or ask where she’d been the last couple of days. She didn’t even show interest in Carlo. He was a user, that much was obvious; what else was there to find out?

  ‘The whole estate is shut down,’ she said.

  Carlo groaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach. He were clucking badly.

  ‘What happened?’ Kelsey asked.

  ‘Dunno,’ said Talisa. ‘Police operation, innit?’

  Drugs were freely available on the estates. Everybody knew where to get them. But every so often the five-o would raid a flat, make a few arrests and the CYB would shut up shop for a few days. Then a different flat would open and it would be business as usual.

  Those few days were a living nightmare. Even the crack houses would be deserted, because it weren’t like there were any point being in them if there weren’t no product to buy. People didn’t go to chat.

  Kelsey pulled out her fags. Carlo and Talisa both gave her a pleading look, so she flashed the ash. Carlo’s hands were shaking as he tried to light up. Poor bloke were in a bad way. Kelsey could almost feel sorry for him.

  Talisa’s phone bleeped and she checked it.

  ‘Mate of mine says the Pakis have got gear,’ she said.

  Carlo’s fag fell from his mouth and landed in a puddle with a hiss. No way was Kelsey giving him another.

  ‘I ain’t going up Bury Park,’ she said.

  ‘What’s the choice?’ Talisa replied.

  Kelsey took a draw. The Bury Park boys never had any decent rocks, and their brown was well overpriced and cut with so much talcum powder you could feel it clogging up your veins.

  ‘Nah,’ was all she would say.

  They stood for a second, raindrops gathering on Carlo’s daft hat, big fat droplets forming at the pointed ends like the bells that should be there. There had to be a better solution than hiking over to Bury Park.

  ‘I’m off to the club,’ Kelsey said at last. ‘Someone’s bound to have something to sell.’

  Talisa looked at her as if she wasn’t the full ticket. ‘One, there won’t be anyone there at this time,’ she said. ‘Too early.’

  ‘By the time I get over there, someone will have turned up,’ Kelsey replied.

  ‘Two.’ Talisa counted her poin
ts on her fingers. ‘They’ll be having the same trouble as us, won’t they?’

  ‘True dat,’ said Carlo.

  ‘Three, if Reggie catches you, he’ll beat your arse,’ said Talisa.

  Kelsey knew that points two and three were probably fair, but she’d rather take the chance than go to Bury Park.

  Talisa and Carlo looked at her for a second, then at one another. They hadn’t met until five minutes ago, but that didn’t matter.

  ‘We can get the bus outside the King Billy,’ Carlo said.

  Talisa nodded at him and they walked away, leaving Kelsey alone in the rain.

  Chapter 11

  You know what you need to do. Leah’s phone is still in your back pocket, the feel of it hard and square against your bum. You keep pulling your top down to cover it.

  You’ve been to the toilet like a hundred times, but you can’t get a signal in there.

  Leah’s still sparked out on the sofa so you creep into the kitchen and try the door. If you could just get outside, you might get enough bars to ring your mum.

  You’ve treated her so badly and kept coming back here because … well, because. Now you don’t care, you just need her. You need Mum.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  You turn around and find Raz standing there. He smells like shower gel and his hair is wet.

  ‘I asked you a question.’

  ‘Nothing.’ You look around the kitchen wildly and see the overflowing bin. ‘I was just going to put the rubbish out,’ you say. ‘Tidy up a bit.’

  He nods and you tense up, waiting for him to attack you again. Instead, he smiles.

  ‘That Leah is such a dirty cow,’ he says. ‘How she don’t mind living like this is beyond me.’

  ‘Yeah,’ you say. ‘It properly smells.’

  He takes a step towards you and you take one back so that you’re pressed up against the door, the handle sticking into your back.

  ‘Listen, babe, about earlier.’ He takes another step towards you, and now there’s nowhere for you to go. ‘It shouldn’t have happened.’ He smiles at you, almost like he used to. ‘But you’ve got to understand that you ain’t some little kid no more. You’ve got to behave in the right way.’

  The trouble is, you don’t know what the right way is.

  ‘How about you come upstairs with me for a bit?’ He’s up close now. ‘Have a bit of fun?’

  You don’t want to. You can’t stand Raz and the lemony stink of him. And you’re still so sore from everything Cal made you do last night.

  ‘Can I get a bath first?’ you ask.

  He leans forward and sniffs, takes in the sick, sweaty, Cal-spunk smell of you.

  ‘You’re as bad as this kitchen,’ he says.

  You give a stupid little giggle.

  ‘Go on then,’ he says. ‘Be quick.’

  He steps to one side and you move away, walking backwards so he doesn’t see the outline of the mobile in your pocket. When you get to the door, you run.

  Inside the bathroom, you run the taps. There’s no lock on the door, but there is a washing basket, so you drag it over to at least block anyone trying to get in. You wedge it as firmly as you can, something sticky on your hands. You peel them away and check. Your heart stops. Your palms are covered in red. Bright red. The bright red of fresh blood.

  You flick open the basket and find a shirt and hoodie that belong to Raz. You hold them up to the bare bulb and find that they’re both covered in blood. Not a few spots, like you might get from a nosebleed, but a huge patch, still wet to the touch.

  You can hardly breathe and you think you might faint. You lean against the wall and leave a perfect red handprint on the tiles. You force yourself not to scream and run to the tap, push your hands under the flow. The water in the bath turns pink.

  With your wet hands you scrabble for Leah’s phone and almost drop it in the bath. You check the screen. No signal.

  There’s a window in the bathroom and you try to open it but it’s jammed. It doesn’t seem locked, more like it’s stuck closed with paint. If you give it a real push, it might budge.

  ‘You going to be long in there?’ shouts Raz from outside the door.

  ‘No.’ If he comes in now, he’ll find you by the window, with the bathwater full of blood. Surely he’ll just kill you on the spot. ‘Two minutes,’ you say.

  ‘Right,’ he replies and you hear his footsteps move away.

  If you don’t do this now, you’re not going to get another chance. You give the window a hard smack. There’s a cracking noise but no movement. You try again. He’s bound to hear it. He’s bound to come in. You give it a third try and the window flies open.

  You pull yourself up using the edge of the sink and lean out as far as you can. When you check the phone, you want to cheer. Three bars. You punch in the home number. No answer. You punch in Mum’s mobile. It goes straight to voicemail.

  ‘Mum,’ you say. ‘It’s me, you’ve got to help. I’m in a house somewhere in the countryside.’ You’re crying now. ‘You’ve got to come and get me before they kill me.’ Tears stream down your face. ‘Mum, please.’

  [#]

  Lilly watched Jack enter the station with the young bloke still in tears. She felt utterly helpless.

  When a copper was murdered, they all felt it. When it was someone on their team, it hurt a lot. When you were in charge of that team, there was nothing worse.

  A young WPC with everything to live for, stabbed. Where was the sense in that?

  Lilly sighed. It had been a senseless day. A stupid, senseless day all round. There was no way she was going to the office. Instead, she’d go home and take Sam for the Chinese she’d promised him. If Kelsey was around, she’d take her too. They’d order a set banquet for ten and eat until they couldn’t move. Then she’d pick Alice up early and do whatever she wanted, even if it meant sitting in a lukewarm bath for two hours, which seemed to be one of the few things her daughter actively enjoyed.

  ‘Miss Valentine.’ The WPC who had interviewed her earlier called her name.

  Lilly tried to smile.

  ‘I’m glad I caught you,’ said the WPC.

  ‘What can I do for you?’ Lilly asked.

  ‘The suspect, Mrs Blythe, is asking for you. You’re her solicitor, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘We’re about to interview her and she says she’d like legal advice. She asked for you specifically.’

  It was a bad idea. Lilly was a witness, after all. But the memory of being in that cell and how surrendered she’d felt, how overcome, came flooding back. Julia was desperate. She’d been let down by the police and social services. Lilly wouldn’t join the list.

  [#]

  Julia’s eyes were bloodshot from crying. Coupled with her unnaturally pale skin and almost white hair, it gave her the look of a middle-aged vampire.

  ‘What were you thinking?’ Lilly demanded.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Julia hung her head. ‘I didn’t mean to get you into any trouble.’

  Lilly flapped her hand. ‘It’s all been sorted, but I still want to know what the hell you were trying to do.’

  ‘I just wanted him to tell me where Velvet is,’ said Julia.

  ‘With a knife?’

  Julia threw her arms up, then let them fall to her sides with a slap, as if it were inexplicable.

  ‘She’s my little girl.’

  Lilly took Julia’s hand in hers. ‘I know, and I’m going to do everything I can to make them understand what’s been going on. Do I have your permission to do that?’

  Julia blinked in incomprehension.

  ‘Everything that you’ve told me is protected by client confidentiality,’ Lilly explained. ‘I need you to give me permission to break that.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Julia, then gave a slight, sad smile. ‘You really are one of the good guys, aren’t you?’

  Lilly blushed. ‘I don’t know about that.’

  ‘I do,’ said Julia. ‘And yes, you are.
’

  ‘I have a daughter,’ Lilly blurted out. ‘She’s still a toddler and we don’t know what’s wrong with her, or if there is actually anything wrong with her. But she’s different, made for another world.’ Tears stung her eyes. ‘If anyone took advantage of that …’

  Julia squeezed her hand. ‘It’s okay.’

  Lilly ran the side of her forefingers under each eye simultaneously to stop her mascara running. She was sure that she too looked like one of the living dead. She didn’t need to add to the effect.

  [#]

  The WPC smiled at Lilly, obviously still grateful for the help she had given her earlier. Her older male colleague was neither grateful nor smiling. He made them stand in a busy corridor that acted as a thoroughfare between the custody suite and the rest of the nick. Every two minutes someone passed in or out, letting the door hammer shut behind them.

  ‘As a witness, I’m not sure you should be representing the suspect,’ he told Lilly.

  The words could be construed as friendly, but the tone was patronising.

  ‘Thank you for your concern,’ said Lilly. ‘But my client has asked me to be here.’

  ‘I’m not certain it’s even legal for a witness to act as a brief,’ he said.

  ‘I can assure you it’s perfectly legal,’ Lilly replied.

  He burred thick wet lips. ‘I suppose you’re the lawyer.’

  Ten out of ten, Detective, Lilly thought, but constrained herself to a smile.

  ‘Thing is,’ he continued, ‘you’ve already told us she’s guilty.’

  ‘No,’ Lilly replied. ‘I told you she had a knife and waved it at Mr Hussain.’

  ‘There you are, then.’

  ‘I’m afraid this case is a wee bit more complicated than that,’ said Lilly. ‘There’s a long back story that I think you should know.’

  ‘Back story?’

  Lilly nodded and told them all of it. How Velvet had been groomed. How she had been raped. Then she told them about Khalid Hussain’s car and how it had been in use while he was in custody.

  ‘The victim was arrested for murder?’

  ‘Indeed he was,’ said Lilly. ‘Let out this morning pending further enquiries. Jack McNally’s the officer in the case.’

  ‘Bloody hell,’ said the WPC.

  ‘Quite,’ said Lilly. ‘Obviously you’re going to need to put all this to Mr Hussain.’