Scarlet Women

hotel.’

‘Well done, Mrs Carter,’ said Redmond with a faint smile. ‘How clever you are. And at the same time, how stupid to be telling me this if I had committed a crime at the hotel.’

Annie kept her face blank, even though she could feel the sweat running down her body, even though her heart was thudding sickeningly hard in her chest. She was going to have this out with these bastards, even if it killed her—and it probably would. ‘Stupid? I don’t think so. Don’t make a sodding bit of difference now anyway, does it? You’re going to get rid of me anyway, ain’t that the plan?’

They were both silent, staring at her.

Annie nodded slowly, her eyes glued to their faces.

‘Yeah, that’s the plan,’ she said. ‘Because I’ve confided in Dolly, and Dolly’s a Delaney woman. She’s told you what I’ve told her, and now I’m fucked. Ain’t that right? We may as well be straight with one another now.’

‘I didn’t kill Aretha Brown, Mrs Carter,’ said Redmond flatly.

‘No?’ Annie’s eyes were fixed on Redmond’s face. He shook his head. Annie’s eyes slid over to Orla.

Orla let out a laugh. ‘What, you think I…?’

Annie thought of all that Sir William had told her. A tall, red-haired woman running up behind Aretha…’ I don’t know,’ said Annie. ‘Why don’t you tell me, you cold-blooded bitch?’

That stung. Annie could see it in Orla’s face. But she soon recovered and stared at Annie with the gleeful calculation of a cat with a trapped mouse.

Redmond shot his twin a glance. ‘You don’t have to say a thing,’ he said.

‘Why not?’ Orla shrugged. ‘The fact is, we’re very close, Redmond and I. We’ve had to stand together over the years; we’ve had no one else to depend on.’

‘I know that,’ said Annie. She knew all about their background. She knew they’d been abused as children, knew that the abused sometimes become abusers in their turn. ‘I think unnaturally close would cover it better.’

‘Unnatural?’ Orla shook her head. ‘We’re a single unit, Mrs Carter. We work together.’

‘And play together?’ quipped Annie.

Orla’s eyes clouded, concealing a faint flicker of rage. She folded her arms across her body.

‘What exactly are you implying? That my twin and I have some sort of unhealthy intimate thing going on?’

‘Well, don’t you?’ Annie demanded. Her voice was growing stronger now. Her anger was sustaining her, overriding her fear. ‘You set up the escort appointment with Dolly; you phoned it in. You pimped for Redmond, what else would you do for him, I wonder? Or did you know that he’d do these things anyway? Did you hate the fact that he needed these kinky sexual encounters, but did you think—he’ll do them anyway; I hate it but this way I can control it. He’d asked for Aretha several times, he liked the rough stuff. Ain’t that right, Redmond?’ demanded Annie.

He looked at her with icy loathing and didn’t answer.

‘Yeah,’ said Annie. ‘That’s right, ain’t it?’ She turned back to Orla. ‘And you didn’t like that: the fact that he had a particular liking for these sessions with Aretha. And now I’m thinking you hated the thought of him with any woman, so much so that you just snapped and killed her.’

‘Say nothing,’ said Redmond to Orla, his eyes fixed menacingly on Annie.

‘Why shouldn’t I?’ Orla looked unfazed by Annie’s accusation. ‘I didn’t kill that whore. I wanted to. I really did. No, I don’t like the fact that Redmond has these needs. But I accept it—even though it causes trouble, even though it becomes a nuisance at times.’ She glanced at Redmond. ‘That costly blonde whore you became so obsessed with for a while, for instance. I really think—’

‘What you think about it,’ snapped Redmond, ‘isn’t relevant. That’s my business— not yours.’

Orla’s face reddened at the unexpected rebuke.

So there is trouble in their sick paradise, thought Annie. Orla really is jealous of his women. I almost feel sorry for the twisted bastards.

‘You’re talking about Mira?’ Annie’s eyes were moving between them both. Orla blinked at the mention of Mira, and Redmond seemed to freeze to the spot. ‘That was something more serious, wasn’t it? More long term. Quite pleasurable for you, Redmond, but a fucking disaster for her. You introduced her to drugs. You taught her some nasty little habits and you bloody near killed her. She told me about how you liked to half throttle her during sex, and about that little square of rubber you use to get your jollies. If Orla hadn’t interrupted us when she did, you’d have done me with it too. You’re one sick fuck, Redmond, you know that?’

A swift flush of hot colour swept up over his pale cheeks. He didn’t look in the least ashamed: he looked furious.

‘That’s why you sent Charlie and the boys round to Dolly Farrell’s place to get Mira back. You didn’t want her blabbing your disgusting little secrets all over the place, did you? And she belonged to you. She was your own personal high-class whore to do with as you would. But the drugs and the abuse and the abortion all took their toll on her, and I guess she started to annoy you once you’d knocked all the spirit out of her and ruined her looks, and so the games got sicker and then she began to think, fuck it, he’s going to kill me if I don’t get out of here. And she was right.’

Redmond was breathing hard. He looked as though he was going to kill her with his bare hands, right now. Annie knew he’d enjoy it, too.

Annie thought of the horror she found under that tarpaulin in the shed across the yard. ‘So she ran and ended up at Pete Delacourt’s tattoo parlour. He put her on to his brother Rizzo, who kept her drug habit fed and who put her on the streets earning. Funnily enough, you know what? Pete went missing.’

They were silent, staring at her. Their faces said it all.

Annie swallowed. Her mouth was dry as dust. She had to get all this out now, had to let them know they were sussed.

‘And Gareth, what about Gareth? The cops are in two minds. He could have committed suicide, but I don’t think he did. I think he blocked you when you picked up Mira’s trail and traced her to his flat, and you lost your temper and strung him up, ain’t that right?’

Maybe I’m dead meat, thought Annie with a shudder. But I’m going down with all guns blazing.

‘Orla—it was you who killed Aretha. There was a witness. She left the hotel fit and well. Then a tall red-haired woman was seen hurrying up behind her outside the hotel that night. It was you.’

Orla unfolded her arms and leaned back against the desk again. She shook her head.

‘Oh come on,’ said Annie. ‘What’s the use of denying it now?’

‘You’re right. Whatever gets said here today won’t go any further. So if I’d done it, what the hell—I’d admit to it. But I didn’t.’

Fuck it, thought Annie savagely. She couldn’t be wrong on this. Orla had to be lying. But why would she bother?

‘I’m not lying,’ said Orla, straight-faced, as if she’d read her thoughts.

‘I don’t believe a bloody word that comes out your mouths.’

‘We really don’t care what you think, Mrs Carter, and it really doesn’t matter any more because you are in no position to argue, as I see it. However, for what it’s worth, neither of us murdered Aretha Brown.’

Then who the hell did? A tall red-haired woman. Annie looked at Orla. Orla was about five feet six inches tall. A tall red-haired woman.

How tall exactly was the woman who’d chased after Aretha, though? That was something she should have questioned William about more closely. Something she wasn’t going to get a chance to do…and she thought of Teresa Walker, who’d had red hair too. Shit, Teresa’s mother was tall. Teresa’s mother had red hair…

It was all too late. She’d never know now.

‘This is all getting a little tedious,’ said Redmond. ‘We have work to do, and we have to get on with it.’

‘Wait,’ said Annie.

‘Wait for what?’ Redmond gave a terse half-smile. His eyes flickered past her, behind her.