Pop Goes the Weasel | страница 96

‘We need to know about Angel,’ Charlie continued. ‘Where you meet her, what she looks like, who else might know her. If you can give us everything you know, then we will protect you. We’ll keep your name out of the papers and minimize the disruption to your life. We’ve no interest in making your life any harder, we just want to catch this killer. You can help us do that.’

A long silence ensued, broken only by the tick-tock of the kitchen clock. Jason finished his tea.

‘Like I said before, I’ve never heard of this “Hammer”. So if you’ll excuse me I’d like to go and call my credit card company.’

Helen and Charlie said nothing as they walked away from the house, both too angry to risk speaking. It wasn’t until they were safely inside the car that Helen finally spoke.

‘Lying little shit.’

Charlie nodded.

‘Stay on him, Charlie. Ring him, email him every day or so with a couple of extra questions, a couple of extra details. He may just be embarrassed or he may know something – keep squeezing him until you find out which.’

‘It’ll be my pleasure.’

‘In the meantime, we have to work harder to find the others. “HappyGoLucky”, “Dangerman”, “fillyerboots”, “BlackArrow” – I want them hunted down. Someone out there knows where we can find Angel.’

‘Sure. Do you want me to take the lead -’

‘Yup. Run them to ground and I’ll rendezvous with you back at the nick. But drop me in the city centre first.’

Charlie looked up, intrigued.

‘I’ve got a date that I’m keen to keep.’

They walked down the lonely corridor, her plastic, high-heeled boots squeaking with every step she took. Trailing just behind, Tony took her in. ‘Melissa’ was far more attractive than he’d expected her to be. Long sleek legs encased in shiny black boots, a tight backside, a sensual, full-lipped face framed by a short black bob. Tony knew not all prostitutes were yellow-toothed junkies but he was still surprised at how well presented she was.

He had picked her up at Hoglands Park, a skateboarders’ hangout in the north of the city that was virtually deserted at night. He’d radioed in as he approached the venue and later had spotted the tail car in his rear-view mirror, as they’d headed south towards the docks, but still he felt a spike of fear now that he was alone with her. They had driven in silence to the Belview Hotel, a down-at-heel B &B that wasn’t fussy about its clientele. Tony had paid for the night up front, then they’d headed to the first floor. En route, they’d passed a middle-aged man descending in the company of a half-dressed Polish girl. He had looked straight at Tony, who’d dropped his eyes to the floor, unwilling to be drawn into this unpleasant camaraderie.