Deadline

Twenty-one

'Do you know her?'

'No, but I should be able to find out.'

Tina was a good liar. She knew how to wear a poker face.

'Good.'

Leon Daroyce smiled properly now, and Tina had to fight to maintain her poker face as she saw his teeth for the first time. There was enough gold in there to stock a small jewellery shop, but it wasn't that which grabbed her attention. It was the fact that every single one of them was filed to a razor-sharp point. Daroyce's mouth was a lethal weapon, those jaws easily capable of murder.

Seeing her reaction, he chuckled – a strange, high-pitched little sound that made her skin crawl. 'You like them, baby? The girls always get a little frightened at first, but when they see what I can do with them, they always come back for more.' He waggled his tongue at her, running it along the points of his fangs.

Tina needed to get out of there. The room suddenly felt hot and claustrophobic. She picked up the envelope, slipped the photo back inside, and stood up.

'Let me get on with things, then.'

'Haven't you forgotten something?' He motioned towards the wad of money.

'I can't take it now. I haven't done anything yet.'

'But you're going to, though. Aren't you?'

'If we find him, yes.'

'You look thirsty,' he said, changing the subject. 'Do you want a drink?'

Tina took a sharp breath. 'Thanks, but I need to get going.'

'Sit down there for a couple of seconds. I want to show you something. Go on,' he said, waving towards the seat, 'it won't take long.'

Reluctantly, she did as requested.

'What is it?'

'Power,' he whispered.

'Sorry?'

He mouthed the word again, then turned towards the door. 'Woman, bring me water!' he called out, and a few seconds later a skinny mixed-race girl, no more than eighteen, with unkempt hair, hurried into the room. She was dressed in a dirty white T-shirt and a black thong, and Tina noticed that there were bruises on her bare legs. Avoiding their eyes, the girl put a small bottle of Evian on the table in front of Daroyce and quickly turned to go, but his hand whipped out like a flailing cord and grabbed her wrist in a tight, visibly painful grip. The girl looked scared, but didn't say anything.

'You know what power is, Miss Boyd?' asked Daroyce, tightening his grip on the girl's wrist, making her wince. 'Power is when you're respected; when you're feared; when people will do anything you tell them. Let me show you what I mean.' He looked up at the girl with gleaming eyes. 'You're mine, aren't you, woman?'

'Yes,' she whispered.

'You're hurting her, Mr Daroyce. Why don't you let go of her arm?'

He ignored her, pulling the girl towards him.

'Now, get on your knees.'

The girl knelt down.

'You don't have to do this,' said Tina firmly, horrified by what might be about to take place. 'I believe you.'

Daroyce backhanded the girl across the face. Hard. The slap rebounded around the room. Tina flinched as the girl's head snapped sideways under the blow before quickly righting itself. She didn't cry out or make a sound. Instead, she remained kneeling, staring straight ahead, her jaw quivering as it tightened against the pain. The fear had gone from her eyes now, replaced by the submissiveness of the defeated.

Tina stood up and addressed the girl. 'I'm a police officer,' she said, pulling out her warrant card and showing it to her. 'You can leave with me now. You don't have to stay here.' She didn't add that the girl could also press charges if she wanted to; they could talk about that later, when they were in a safer location.

The girl said nothing, continued to stare straight ahead.

'Come on,' said Tina, putting out a hand. 'You can come with me now.'

Daroyce chuckled. 'Tell her to fuck off, woman.'

This time the girl looked at Tina. There was a red mark covering the entire left side of her face, several small cuts on the cheek where Daroyce's rings had made contact.

'Fuck off,' she said, without feeling or passion.

'Please. I can take you home.'

But Tina knew it was no use. Even the girl's eyes were blank.

Daroyce's smile grew wider, the teeth showing, as he saw Tina's frustration. Then it disappeared altogether. 'Get out, woman!' he snapped, and immediately the girl got to her feet and hurried out of the door.

Tina shoved the warrant card back in her pocket. 'I'm leaving, and I want to take her with me.'

'You don't get it, do you, Miss Boyd? She won't go with you. Not in a thousand years. Because she's mine.'

'Slavery was outlawed in this country two hundred years ago, Daroyce. Maybe you missed the bicentennial celebrations.'

'She can leave if she wants to, Boyd. But she won't. Because she owes me, and she's paying her debt.'

'I don't care about—'

'Enough!' His hand slammed down on the table, silencing her. 'The reason I showed you that is so you know I don't fuck about.'

'You're a bully.'

He wagged a finger at her. 'No, I'm no bully. Bullies only pick on the weak. I'm prepared to take on everyone. And I'm also a man of my word, so when people break theirs, I take great offence. And I make them suffer. That little whore fucked me about once, and now she's paying for her stupidity. Just like Pat Phelan will pay for it when I get hold of him.' He stood up, and even though at full height he was still shorter than Tina, he radiated the kind of cruel, low menace that would have intimidated men twice his height. 'Now you've made me a promise as well,' he said quietly, making a point of showing his teeth as he spoke. 'So, if you find the whereabouts of Phelan, I want to hear about it. Otherwise, Miss Boyd, my people will come for you too. Do you understand?'

Again, Tina held his gaze, but she was finding it hard to keep her nerve. She was scared, and he knew it.

'I understand,' she answered.

'Good. Would you like my men to drop you off where they picked you up?'

She shook her head. 'No, it's OK. I'll walk.'

He moved aside to let her pass, and she caught a subtle waft of expensive and very nice cologne that almost made her pause to take in more of it, until she thought about what he'd just done.

'Watch yourself out there,' he whispered. 'The streets round here can be very, very dangerous.'

She ignored him and kept walking, out into the narrow hallway. The big black guy in the shades materialized from a room ahead of her, unlocking the front door for her in silence. She couldn't see the girl anywhere, but if she was honest with herself, she wasn't looking too hard, so eager was she just to get out of there.

There were all kinds of things Tina could have taken from the conversation she'd just had: the large amount of cash Pat Phelan owed Daroyce; the way he'd recently asked Daroyce for just a few more days to pay the money; the fact that he was having an affair with his wife's business partner . . . But she couldn't seem to concentrate on any of them as she walked rapidly through the back streets, going in no particular direction, haunted by the face of an anonymous girl who got down on her knees and waited to be beaten by a thug – a man who'd just threatened to turn on Tina as well if she didn't do what she was told.

She felt the pressure building inside her head. She was a tough person. She'd had to be to put up with what life had thrown at her these past few years, but occasionally her strength wavered, and it was wavering now.

She needed a drink. Badly.

There was a pub up ahead, a spit-and-sawdust type of place with a chalkboard outside advertising football games on Sky, and a couple of potbellied builders standing by the door smoking. The door was open. It seemed to welcome her.

She knew she shouldn't do it. Knew what one drink meant. But it was hard. So damn hard. She felt a desperate need to put a glass to her lips, to soften the blows that had rained down on her this afternoon – no, shit, that had rained down on her over the last four years.

You never drink on duty, she told herself. Never. You work hard, you do well. They might not all like you, but they respect you. If you weaken now, you're finished.

A picture of her dead lover walked uninvited into her mind's eye. John Gallan. He'd been a good man, a nicer, better person than she could ever be. He'd loved her; he'd said so many times and she'd believed him. John wasn't the sort to lie. Part of her had loved him back, too. Thought that maybe it could come to something. And then he died.

And then he fucking died.

She walked inside the pub, ignoring the slimy look she got from the jaundiced old codger sitting at the bar, and ordered a double gin, no ice, ignoring the voice inside her head that screamed for her not to do it. The decision had been made.

She drank it down in one.

'Bad day?' asked the barman, a gangly teenager with a haystack's worth of red hair.

'Fucking fantastic,' she said, and ordered another.

She put a tenner on the bar and drank the gin slower this time, savouring the fiery taste as the alcohol slipped down her throat. The kick was instantaneous, and she felt the familiar lightheadedness come on, knowing that if she had another, that would be it. There'd be no going back. The work day would be written off. The leads she'd gained, leads that could help save a teenage girl from death, wouldn't emerge until she'd sobered up. Tina wasn't the sort who could work drunk. She became clumsy and lethargic. Her colleagues would notice it straight away, and her guilty little secret, the one she'd carried for so long, would suddenly be out there for all to see. And she couldn't have that. Tina had her pride. She suffered, but she suffered alone. She didn't want pity, she didn't want help, and right now, she really didn't want to be off this case.

Fuck Leon Daroyce. He wasn't going to beat her. She finished the drink and banged the glass on the bar harder than she'd planned before picking up her change and heading back out into the sunlight.

It was time to get back to work.