tighter and tighter and your tongue grows in the back of your throat and your eyes bulge because they feel like they’re going to pop out…’
‘ Don’t!’ Grace screamed, covering her ears. She started to sob all the way up from her guts, almost retching, then she vomited all aver the table, over the tape deck, then jerking her head and covering the lap of the social worker. Danny saw it coming. She moved in time.
Grace choked, bent double, head between her legs, spitting out the last of her stomach contents.
Danny walked round the table and laid a hand on the back of her head. ‘There, there,’ she muttered softly. ‘Everything’ll be all right, Grace, but you need to tell me about yourself, don’t you? Then tell me about Claire Lilton, because you know about know who killed her, don’t you?’
‘ Yeah…’ she gasped.
‘ Who?’
‘ Charlie and Ollie.’
Same old story, Danny thought whilst listening — in a different, vomit-free interview room — to Grace. Abused by a succession of ‘uncles’ (her mother’s lovers), social services become involved, goes into care from the age of seven; the short forays home result in more abuse; behaviour worsens, the homes become more secure, better supervised. Ends up in one, aged ten, abused by the staff and the older kids… it becomes part of a dark life, part of her day-to-day existence. She runs, returns, runs some more, but this time vows not to return. Blackpool sounds good. She’s been there on several day trips. Lots of life, sounds and people. And that’s where she ended up. Sleeping rough, cruising the arcades, stealing food… and then being spotted and watched, eventually approached. A meal provided. A bath. Somewhere comfy to sleep. Some cash. Build up trust, something which didn’t take too long, and then she was hooked… and introduced to the man who had done her so much good; it was no surprise when his cock came out and it tasted like all the others had done, felt like all the others had done. And soon she was on the lookout for him — other vulnerables, mispers, day-trippers even — bring them in, make promises… but something horrible happened to one of them. Her name had been Claire. She didn’t want it, didn’t want the sex, not for anything. She fought and was subdued. Fought again, subdued even more and then she was dead.
And now something else: Danny was being nice to her and getting something from Grace, something for nothing.
Cleaned up, but smelling of sick, the social worker listened in silence.
Danny coaxed, reassured, probed as she pulled out a tangled web of emotion, fear, hatred and a million other things because this was the first time Grace had ever talked. Danny had to deal with all the excess baggage. That was the way it had to be, like plaiting fog, as they say. Only then, when it had all been faced and talked through, could- the questions begin to flow, slowly at first, about Claire Lilton.
And yes, Danny had to admit, she was not really interested in Grace’s story. All that was blind alleys. She wanted to hear about Claire Lilton.
Grace talked for three hours.
Every single operational operative from Kruger Investigations was out on the bricks searching for Tracey. Photos in hand, descending on as many likely places as they could think of.
Myrna, meanwhile, was on to Mark Tapperman.
Under pressure he refused to yield. ‘No, I cannot spare any of my officers to go looking for a reluctant witness who’s probably regaled you with the most bullshit you’ve ever heard, just for a bed for the night and the opportunity to steal from your purse. And it worked!’
Myrna silently mouthed numerous cuss-words at him from her end of the phone.
‘ And it’s a godamned good job we don’t have video conferencing otherwise I’d be able to see your lips bad- mouthin’ me,’ Tapperman laughed.
‘ How in hell..?’
‘ I’m a cop. People are always cussin’ me silently down the phone. Hey, look, Myrna, sorry, but we can’t afford the manpower. Tell you what I will do — I’ll get a radio message out to all mobiles, ask’ em to keep their eyes peeled, okay? That’s all I can do. We’re chasin’ our tails here.’
‘ Fine, thanks,’ Myrna conceded. ‘Any progress on Steve’s killer?’
‘ Patrick Orlove? No, nothing. We’re trying our best.’
‘ I believe you.’ She hung up.
‘ He calls me his little honey pot, but I don’t really know why. Because I’m sweet, I suppose.’ Grace managed a weak smile. The effort of self-revelation had taken everything out of the little girl. All her own important stuff had been about herself, not Claire; her past, present and unspeakable future. ‘I met Claire in one of the arcades and I could tell she were alone, like. I talked to her and said I could get her somewhere to sleep for the night. I took her to see Ollie and he give her a couple of quid for some chips an’ me an’ her went for some an’ came back when the arcade had closed. We got into Ollie’s car and he drove us to his flat an’ Charlie were there waitin’ for us. I got pissed on wine — I like wine. Claire had a bit to drink and she got smashed easy, like. Then Ollie asked me to give him a suck an’ he got it out an’ I started. I had to close me eyes ‘cos I don’t really like lookin’ at it and the wine takes the taste off.
‘ While I were doin’ this,’ she went on, ‘Charlie took Claire out the room and into the bedroom. Going for a shag. Everythin’ were all right and Ollie’d cum in me mouth an’ he made me swallow it an’ then all hell broke loose. There’s a loada shoutin’ an’ screamin’ from the bedroom and Claire ran out… she had no clothes on and Charlie were chasing her. He were fuckin’ angry. He grabbed her and thumped her in the face and sez to Ollie, “Come an’ ‘elp me with the little bitch.” They both grabbed her then an’ dragged her back into the bedroom an’ slammed the door behind ‘em. Well, the door don’t close proper and it just sorta bounced open a bit an’ I sneaked a look.’ Tears welled up in Grace’s eyes.
‘ Go on,’ Danny said gently.
‘ I were frightened. Claire were strugglin’ an’ fightin’. They were both holdin’ her down and Charlie was trying to get his dick in her, but she were really fighting and kickin’ and they were gettin’ really mad. Charlie had a rope or somethin’ round her neck, pullin’ tight an’ next thing Claire weren’t moving at all.’
She fell silent.
Danny touched Grace’s trembling fingers. The social worker was white.
‘ They said she were all reet, just sleepin’. I could see she wasn’t. They’d been smashing her in the face too and it were a real mess. I’ve never seen a dead person before. It were ‘orrible… I can still see her now.’
‘ What happened then?’
‘ They carried her into the shower and washed her, I think. They told me not to look. I just ran out and glued meself up… I haven’t been back.’
‘ Who were the two men?’
‘ Like I said. Charlie and Ollie.’
‘ Do you know their last names?’
‘ Charlie Gilbert. Ollie Spencer.’
‘ What do Charlie Gilbert and Ollie Spencer have in common?’ Henry Christie pondered out loud. He knew Gilbert was one of the most respected figures on the Fylde, and Spencer was a purveyor of porn and perversion across the Northwest. ‘Other than their sexual interests, that is.’
‘ The fact is, they are together and I want to go and arrest both for murder,’ Danny stated categorically. She could hardly contain herself after listening to Grace’s story and recording the subsequent statement. Grace was still in the police station, being held on the assault and shoplifting charges whilst a decision was made about what to do with her. In many ways it was out of the hands of the police. She had to be handed over to Social Services for safekeeping — not something either Henry or Danny was happy with. They would rather have kept her under lock and key.
They were in the incident room at Blackpool police station, scrumming down with FB and other members of the murder squad.
‘ Just hold your horses,’ FB said impatiently. His jacket and tie were off. He paced the room, taking up the tension more degrees than necessary. ‘Tell me where we’re up to exactly.’
