‘I don’t know exactly how they met but I think it was in some dimly lit pickup parlour in the West End, or maybe it was the East End — an East End nightclub. She did say he was an East Ender, like she was, so they had that in common, and he was good looking, and also charming, as you have said. I think they became an item quite quickly. She was easy pickings for him. It got sour though, got sour very rapidly.’
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, she came home with a bruised face, and after a stupidly short period she went back to him, though she never actually moved in as such. She wouldn’t leave her children but was with him every weekend. I do remember her telling me that he had some strange hold over her. She said she knew that she shouldn’t go back to him, that he was bad news, but she still felt the tug to return to him in his huge house in Surrey.’
‘Surrey?’ Brunnie repeated. ‘Large county. .’
‘Virginia Water, she mentioned Virginia Water. The houses down there, like palaces she said, but she felt this magnetic draw to Curtis, which she said she knew she had to resist but she couldn’t resist at all.’ Pauline South paused. ‘It was as though he had some form of control over her.’
‘Yes, I know what you mean. It’s not untypical with that sort of personality. If the victim is weak enough or needy enough that manner of control can be exercised.’
‘Interesting, frightening also, but she was a lovely girl, very attractive. We made an odd couple in the Coach and Horses: me short and plain and she the glamorous, raven-haired, Rubenesque beauty, but inside she was so full of unmet need. She felt really guilty.’
‘Guilty?’
‘About letting her parents down in respect of her choice of husband. . cheap rented flat in Clacton. . and so the wealth offered by Curtis what’s his name was, in her mind, like a compensation, but in fact it was all part of the lure to lead her into the minefield, so it seems now.’
‘You said she seemed frightened?’
‘Yes, she had heard that previous girlfriends, or possibly just one girlfriend, had disappeared.’
‘How?’ Brunnie asked.
‘The staff told her.’
‘Staff?’ Yewdall sought clarification. ‘What staff?’
‘Domestics. . cleaners. . they clocked her for being an East End girl — their class, not posh; saw her as one of them. She said her name was Tessie. . the cook. . just breakfasts and lunch six days a week. Rosemary told me that Tessie had told her to “get out”. Tessie said, “Get out while you’re still alive”. She returned to her parent’s home later that day, and me and her went up to the boozer. That’s when she told me what Tessie had said. Then, the next time we met up she told me Tessie had gone. Apparently, she had turned in her notice and walked out.’
‘Do you know Tessie’s surname?’
‘O’Shea.’
‘And she lived in Virginia Water?’
‘Yes, in some council house development in amongst the mansions, just to balance the social mix and provide cooks and cleaners and gardeners for the hoi polloi.’
‘What did she tell you about Curtis X’s source of income?’
‘A string of businesses, she said, but she also discovered that she had hooked up with a blagger, a serious one, and she suspected that the businesses were there to hide some other activities. She was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into — it was about then she vanished.’
Merry Flint scowled at Meadows, Ainsclough and Swannell. ‘You can make this go away?’
‘We can,’ Swannell replied softly, ‘if Mr Meadows agrees.’
‘I agree. I really want the two supermarket workers who are taking the stuff out. I am not really bothered about the out of work doleys who are taking a meagre slice. It’s always better to collar the thieves rather than the receivers. So, yes, I agree.’
‘But whether we do make it go away or not is another matter.’ Ainsclough also spoke softly. He enjoyed working with Swannell; he had found that both men had a tacit understanding that the whisper is louder than the shout. ‘As you told us, Merry, you’re under a suspended sentence, so if we charge you then inside you go, you do bird. Again.’
‘So it’s scratchy backy time?’
‘Dare say that’s one way of putting it — you scratch our back and we will scratch yours. Help us, we help you. You work for yourself or you work against yourself.’
Merry Flint scowled again. She was, observed Ainsclough, a lighter skinned black girl, possibly of mixed race, but by her loud clothing and beads and bangles she had clearly embraced West Indian culture. However, her speech pattern, apart from the very occasional exclamation, was pure London street-speak. ‘So what does the Old Bill need to know?’
‘This Old Bill needs to know about the assault the other night, in the alley.’ Ainsclough indicated himself and Swannell.
‘And this Old Bill wants the S.P. on the supermarket. All of it.’
‘So, this Bill first. .’ Ainsclough leaned forward, ‘the other night. . start singing.’
‘I was Lee Marvin — hadn’t eaten proper for a day or two — so I was skip-divin’ in the evening just after it got dark. These two guys turned into the alley. I sat back between the two skips — I was opposite them but they didn’t see me. . comes in handy being black sometimes. Thought they was the Old Bill at first — looked the part: tall and fit. . Then I saw they had a little geezer with them, and the little guy went on the deck like about ninety miles an hour. He was clucking. . desperate. . he was pleading, man, pleading so bad. I didn’t see no tools, but the two geezers didn’t need them, they just stuck the boot in again and again. One bad old kicking he got. . the little guy.’
‘Would you recognize them again?’ Swannell asked.
‘No. . it was dark.’ Merry Flint shook her head. ‘They were both honkies. . both snowdrops. . tall and fit. . vicious. Don’t know how handy they’d be in a level skirmish, but they don’t show no mercy to the little guy, no, man, no mercy. . no mercy at all. He got a slap alright. . no mercy.’
‘Beards?’
‘No.’
‘So they were both clean-shaven?’
‘Yes, clean-shaved.’
‘Did they say anything?’ Ainsclough asked.
‘Not a lot.’
‘What then? What did you hear?’
‘Not much, but I reckoned they belonged to a firm, it wasn’t personal to them.’
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Well, they were kickin’ this little guy and then one said, “That’s enough. . that’ll do”, something like that, and the other geezer, he said, “The boss wants it done proper”.’
‘I see, “the boss”?’
‘Yes, so that’s what got me thinking that they was part of a firm.’
‘Fair enough. . carry on.’
‘So the first geezer says, “It’s done, he’s not getting up”, but the second guy just goes on kicking and kicking and kicking. . bouncing the little guy’s head off the wall like it was a toy ball.’
‘Local accents?’
‘Yeah, it was a London team alright, but not posh London; it was Canning Town not Swiss Cottage.’
‘Understood. What else? Anything else you heard?’
‘Well, the first one, he just stopped. .’
‘Stopped?’
‘Yes, he was not a happy camper. He helped the other guy put the little guy down, and he put the boot in a few times but the other guy he went at it mental, like. . like he was possessed. It was then that the first guy just stood still. All the time folk was walking past the end of the alley and no one noticed what was going down. . dark and raining. Then the first geezer-’
‘The one who was just watching by this time?’
‘Yes. He said to the second geezer, “It’s done, Rusher. That’s it. We need to clear the pitch”.’
‘“Rusher”?’ Swannell repeated. ‘He called the second geezer “Rusher”?’
‘Yes, I heard it bell-like, “Rusher”, that’s what he called him. “Rusher”.’
‘OK, then what?’
‘Well, then I suppose Rusher got the first geezer’s drift and he stopped putting the wellie in. Then the first geezer, he said, “Let’s clear the pitch and get these dugs burned”.’