‘It was the guy in the car,’ Tasha said. ‘That’s why I remember that night. This guy … I don’t know, there was just something about him. At first I just thought he was one of those punters who want to pick up a girl, but when they get down here they can’t go through with it, like they’re too scared to actually do it, you know? So they just end up driving round looking at us, then they probably go home and have a wank. But this guy … well, he kept coming down, almost every night for about two weeks, and as far as I know he never actually stopped for any of us, he just drove around having a good look … but I didn’t get the feeling that he was scared of anything. In fact, if anything, it was the opposite … there was something really fucking scary about him.’
‘How do you mean?’ I asked.
‘Well, he just had that look, you know … like the whole world meant absolutely nothing to him. Do you know what I mean? He was one of those ice-cold fuckers who don’t give a shit about anything or anyone.’
‘And you saw him that night?’
‘Yeah, he picked up Anna.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yeah,’ Tasha nodded. ‘Hundred per cent. I saw her getting in his car. I mean, it was the first time this guy had ever stopped … that’s why I remember it.’ She waved her cigarette hand towards the far end of the tunnel. ‘Anna usually worked down there … there’s a little lay-by just past the tunnel. I suppose she thought it was a handy place for the punters to stop. Anyway, that night, I saw this guy’s car coming up London Road, and he did his usual thing — slowing down and giving us all the eye — and then he just drove past, as usual. But then, when he got to the lay-by, I saw him pull in.’
‘And Anna was there that night?’
‘Yeah … she hadn’t been there all that long, maybe half an hour or so …’
‘What time was this?’
‘Pretty late, about two-ish, something like that. Anna worked at The Wyvern … she didn’t finish there until one.’
‘Did you see her getting into the car?’
‘Sort of …’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Look,’ Tasha said, taking my arm and positioning me so that I was looking down towards the end of the tunnel. ‘The lay-by’s half hidden by the end of the bridge … see what I mean? If a car’s parked close to the pavement, all you can see from here is the driver’s side.’
I nodded. ‘So if someone gets into the passenger seat, you can’t actually see them doing it?’
‘Right … but Anna was definitely there, and I saw this guy leaning across to open the passenger door, and when he drove off, there was definitely someone in the passenger seat.’
‘But you couldn’t say for certain that it was Anna?’
‘No. But when I checked the lay-by a few minutes later, she wasn’t there.’
She lit another cigarette, and offered one to me.
‘Thanks,’ I said, accepting a light from her too. ‘This man … he drove off away from the bridge, not back this way?’
‘Yeah, that’s why I couldn’t see who was in the passenger seat.’
I looked down the tunnel, trying to remember where the road led to. ‘Have you told anyone else about this?’ I asked Tasha. ‘The police, newspapers …’
She shook her head. ‘No one’s asked me.’
‘The police haven’t talked to you at all?’
‘Not to me, no. I don’t know about the other girls …’
‘Why would the police talk to the other girls but not you?’
‘I don’t know … I mean, they probably wouldn’t. I was just saying, that’s all.’
I nodded. ‘Do you remember what kind of car it was?’
‘Yeah, it was a Nissan Almera.’
I smiled at her. ‘A Nissan Almera?’
She smiled back. ‘I’ve got a five-year-old boy who’s mad about cars.’ She laughed quietly. ‘Everywhere we go, he points them out and tells me what they are. That’s a BMW, Mummy. That one’s a Zafira …’ She shook her head, her smile turning sad. ‘So, anyway, yeah … I know my cars. It was a Nissan Almera.’
‘Colour?’
‘Green.’
‘I don’t suppose you got the registration number?’
She nodded. ‘You got a pen?’
I managed to hide my surprise this time as I reached into my pocket and passed her a pen. She wrote the registration number on the back of her cigarette packet, then gave the packet to me. I shook it. It was at least half full.
‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘You can keep them. I’ve got plenty more.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Thanks.’ I looked at her. ‘Can you describe the man in the car?’
‘He was oldish,’ she said. ‘Early fifties, maybe. Dark hair, pale skin. I couldn’t see his eyes too well because he always wore those tinted glasses … you know the ones I mean? Not sunglasses, just ordinary glasses with tinted lenses.’
‘Right.’
‘But I think his eyes were dark.’
‘What was he wearing?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know … just ordinary old-guy kind of clothes — a shirt, some kind of jacket … you know, the kind of stuff that’s hard to remember?’
I smiled. ‘Yeah, I know what you mean. Is there anything else you can tell me about him?’
She thought about it, then shook her head. ‘No … I think that’s pretty much it.’
‘OK, well, thanks, Tasha. You’ve been really helpful.’
She shrugged again. ‘Yeah, well …’
I took the remaining notes from my wallet —?65 — and gave them to her. ‘Sorry, ‘I said,’ it’s all I’ve got left.’
She didn’t thank me or count the notes, she just put them in her pocket. ‘What do you think happened to her?’ she asked me.
‘I don’t know. I’ll try and trace the car, see what I can find out …’ I looked at her. ‘Can I ask you something else?’
‘You’re all out of money now. What are you going to pay me with?’
I hesitated, not sure if she was joking or not.
But then she smiled and said, ‘Yeah, go on, then. What do you want to know?’
‘Well, it’s just … I mean, I know you probably don’t like the police that much, but how come you haven’t told them what you’ve just told me? You know … the car, the registration number, what the guy looks like. You could have just made an anonymous phone call.’
Her smile had faded now. ‘What good would it have done?’ she said simply. ‘If this guy’s done something to Anna, it’s already done. Catching him now’s not going to help Anna, is it? So all that would have happened if I’d told the police was they’d have come down here every night scaring all the punters away, and that would have meant finding somewhere else to work for fuck knows how long, maybe even moving to another town. It’s bad enough doing this as it is … none of us need any more shit to deal with. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Yeah …’
She shook her head. ‘I know what you’re thinking — ’
‘I’m not thinking anything — ’
‘Yeah, you fucking are. You’re thinking what a selfish cunt I am. I’m so fucking wrapped up in myself that I don’t give a shit about all the other girls that this guy might pick up and do whatever he does to them … all I care about is me.’ She glared at me. ‘Well, you’re fucking right. That is all I care about — getting enough money to get enough shit to get wasted enough to get me through another fucking day.’
‘That’s not what I was thinking,’ I said quietly.
Neither of us said anything for a while, we just stood there in the shelter of the tunnel, smoking our cigarettes in awkward silence … until eventually I broke the impasse by taking out my wallet again and passing Tasha one of my business cards.
‘If you remember anything else,’ I told her. ‘Just give me a ring. OK?’
She nodded. ‘Will you let me know if you find out what happened?’
‘Yeah, of course …’
I watched, slightly bemused, as she searched through her pockets. Then, with another heart-warming smile, she looked at me and said, ‘I seem to have run out of business cards.’