Scarlet Women

‘Yeah,’ said Dolly, looking haggard.

‘Oh fuck. Are you telling me Rosie took it? That Rosie’s gone out to meet this client?’

‘She’s such a dopey mare. I told her it was no go.’

Annie felt herself getting more screwed up about all this by the second.

‘But Doll—this could be dangerous. Serious.’

‘Nah.’ Dolly was shaking her head, forcing her mouth into a tight, positive little smile. ‘Nah, it’s okay. She’ll be fine. Because look, here’s the point: they’ve got Chris. They’ve got their man, so Rosie’ll be fine.’

‘Doll…’ started Annie.

‘She’ll be fine,’ snapped Dolly suddenly, banging the tabletop with the brandy glass. Liquid slopped over the brim.

Sharlene and Annie exchanged a look. Dolly was saying it, but she didn’t believe it.

‘Then why’d you want me to come over?’ asked Annie after a beat.

‘I…I just…oh shit, I don’t know. She’ll be all right. Won’t she?’ Dolly’s eyes were wild with anxiety.

‘What happened, Sharlene?’ Annie asked. She wasn’t going to get any sense out of Dolly, that was for sure.

Sharlene shrugged. Her gesture was casual, but her face was creased with concern.

‘Look,’ said Annie angrily, ‘whatever’s gone on here, you’d better tell me now.’

Sharlene shrugged again, but this time she started speaking. ‘We were arguing the toss over who’d take the booking. Just arsing about really. She put the piece of paper with the details on her dressing table, sort of taunting me with it. We were just mucking about. Then I went in to Rosie’s room tonight, and she’d sneaked off out. I checked the book in the kitchen drawer, but she didn’t write the details in the book like you’re supposed to—she didn’t even take a number. She just had it on that scrap of paper, and when I looked in her room about nine she’d gone out and that piece of paper was gone too. So I reckoned she’d taken the booking, just to get one over on me for a laugh.’

Sharlene paused, her usually sharp and sassy face looking faintly sick.

‘Silly little bint. I waited a bit. I hoped that maybe she’d just gone down the pub and would roll back home after eleven, but she didn’t. When it got to one o’clock, I woke up Dolly.’ Sharlene looked at Annie. ‘She’ll be okay though, won’t she?’

Annie tried to think. ‘Do either of you know anything about this booking?’

They both shook their heads. Dolly knocked back a bit more brandy.

‘Not the location, nothing?’

Again the head-shaking. And more brandy for Dolly.

If she’s so certain Chris did it, what’s she so worried about? wondered Annie, watching her friend’s pallid face. There was a sheen of sweat on Dolly’s brow and her hands, as she fumbled about with the brandy glass, were shaking.

Fact was, they had no idea where Rosie was or who she was meeting up with.

Fact was, Annie knew in her heart that Chris couldn’t have done these vile things. There was still a killer out there, trawling the streets for more victims. But London was a big place. And lightning didn’t strike twice, right?

Wrong, she thought. It’s struck three times so far.

She felt pretty sick herself now. She thought of Rosie with her lazy, charming ways and her tumble of pale blonde hair. She was a likable girl, harmless. If anything should happen to her—well, it just didn’t bear thinking about.

‘You called the Delaneys, Doll?’ she asked.

Dolly shook her head. ‘I panicked, I…I just thought of you.’

‘I can get the word out, get people looking for her,’ said Annie. Although I really shouldn’t go stepping on Redmond Delaney’s toes, she thought.

‘Yeah, can you do that?’ asked Dolly, suddenly hopeful.

‘Sure. I’ll do it right now.’

Annie left the two other women sitting at the kitchen table and went through to the hall. She picked up the telephone and dialled Tony’s number. It rang for some time, then finally Tony picked up.

‘H’lo,’ he muttered.

‘It’s me, Tone.’

‘What’s up, Boss?’

‘We’ve got a problem, Tone. One of Dolly’s girls has gone on an escort job, it’s getting late, we’re worried.’

‘Where’s she gone?’

‘No idea. But she should have been back over an hour ago.’

They were both silent for a moment, both thinking the same thing: No, it couldn’t happen again. Could it?

‘Can you get the boys to check out some of the clubs, the hotels…’ Her voice trailed off. It was an impossible job, and they both knew it.

‘Sure, Boss,’ said Tony.

Annie paused. Thought again. ‘And maybe…maybe ring round the hospitals,’ she added as there was a thump against the front door.

She looked at it, heart in her mouth. Heard a key being inserted into the lock. Saw it swing inwards. Rosie stood there, looking at her in surprise. A shriek went up from the kitchen and Dolly and Sharlene came rushing through to the hall and grabbed Rosie.

‘What the hell?’ laughed Rosie. ‘What’s going on?’

Annie started breathing again. ‘You still there, Tone?’

‘Yeah, Boss.’

‘Cancel that. She’s here. She’s okay.’

‘No sweat, Boss.’

She put the phone down.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ Dolly was demanding.

‘I met up with a pal down the pub and we went clubbing…what the hell’s wrong with everyone?’ Rosie was saying in bewilderment.

Sharlene, Rosie and Dolly bustled into the kitchen, chattering and laughing. Annie stood there in the hall and felt limp with relief. She looked at Dolly, who had gone from extraordinary fear to hysterical happiness in a single bound. Dolly glanced up and their eyes met.

Dolly looked away first.

Chapter 22

Robert ‘Rizzo’ Delacourt might have been a runty little man, but he had a big attitude. Like many runty little men with attitude, he liked to display his masculine superiority by beating up on women. So the two girls he still ran, who shivered in miniskirts and little jackets night after night on the towpath under the canal bridge over the Mile End Road, were justifiably nervous of him.

Hey—they were nervous, full stop.

Because they’d heard about the girls getting done. They’d heard about it and experienced it first hand. Poor bloody Val, Rizzo’s sister, for instance. She’d been a cow at times but she hadn’t deserved that. But they were working girls. They had to eat, and anyway Rizzo wouldn’t let them bunk off. So they huddled against the damp wall under the bridge near the lock, and talked loudly and smoked cigarettes and joked about the clients, to stave off the jitters.

Their profession was the oldest in the world but it could certainly pay better. Rizzo took a big wedge out of