Sacrilege - Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

As Marc rushed in, I rushed out to pour myself a stiff drink.

There wasn’t a sound from the bedroom for some time. When he finally emerged, Marc was in a worse state than me. “For pity’s sake, a dead body in my bedroom, it’s gross, man, gross!” he kept saying.

It was weird. The more we drank, the less drunk we felt. When I told him Ginny was Jackie’s sister he really freaked out.

“Oh my God, but that’s …terrible…oh, my God, no!” he yelled.

“Never mind all that now!” I shouted back. “The point is, surely, where the devil do we go from here? Should we call Jackie before we call the police or…what, for heaven’s sake?  Oh, do shut up! Pull yourself together, Marc. Get a grip, can’t you? How can I be expected to think straight with you wailing like a banshee in my face?”

He calmed down a bit. “We should call Jackie,” he said slowly, “not the police. Not yet, anyhow. You and I have some serious thinking to do, brother mine.”

“What do you mean, not the police?” I was incredulous. “We have a dead body on our hands. Who else can we call? It’s hardly a job for the local plumber.”

He handed me a scrap of paper. “I found that on the body.”

“On the body, you say?” I took and reached for the near empty bottle of brandy as I read aloud, “For services rendered, Georgie.”

We stared at each other and took it in turns to take swigs from the bottle. The fiery liquid, however, came as precious little shock to our battered systems, consequently providing precious little relief. Moreover, the more we attempted to get our heads around what course of action to take, the more we saw the odds stacking up against us.

Worse, we remained disturbingly sober.

“I thought we were rid of him!” Marc kept repeating, “The bastard is in jail for heaven’s sake! How did he find us? How does he know where we are? Why pick on me, for pity’s sake and why now and…why her? He pointed to the bedroom where the door remained firmly shut.

“She and Danny have always been close,” I pointed out. “I dare say whoever Georgie is paying to play games with us has their instructions…”

“Play games?” Marc interrupted, “What are you talking about, playing what games? I thought it had to be those damn Packards again till I saw the note. But you, you’re not surprised in the least. So come on, fill me in, Laurie. What’s going on?”

Furious, he lurched towards me, jabbing a forefinger in my face, then suddenly stumbled and fell backwards into an armchair. 

Grateful to have an ally of sorts in the brandy, even if it had fallen way short of supplying the desired effect on either of us, I told him everything; how the card at the hospital appeared to confirm that Thomas had been mistaken for Danny; that Danny’s attacker had spoken Fat Georgie’s name; how I’d received more phone calls from my mysterious stalker than I’d let on and had convinced myself he was in the pay of Fat Georgie.

“Fucking hellfire, Laurie, why didn’t you tell me? Fat Georgie has reason enough to want all of us dead...you, Danny, Philip. I may be small fry, but I guess I come into the equation, too, if only by association. Have you told the others?”

I shook my head. “Not everything. Danny knows, but…not everything,” I repeated miserably.

“Honestly, Laurie, sometimes you surprise even me just how bloody stupid you can be.”

“I know,” I could only agree and try to change the subject. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you, okay? How was I to know he’d have his hired help leave a dead body in your bedroom? But never mind about that now. What are we going to do with…her?” I pointed to the bedroom door.

But Marc was still grappling with the grim news that Fat Georgie was back in our lives, if only by proxy. “I don’t understand. Why kill Ginny? Okay, so she’s always had a soft spot for Danny but that’s no reason to kill her, surely?”

“Who knows? Who cares?  Georgie’s a psycho. He’s not going to get anyone halfway normal to do his dirty work for him, is he? But you’re right about the police. We should wait a bit. You call Jackie while I call Philip. Philip will know what do for the best.” I added with a show of greater confidence than I was feeling.

“Philip? I thought you couldn’t get in touch with him?”

I told him about calling Philip on Ryan’s phone. “I think I can remember the number. If I use your land line, hopefully the number won’t mean anything to the Packards if they check out Philip’s phone for any reason. Now, get your backside  out of that chair and into the kitchen so I can have some privacy.”

 To his credit, Marc made a supreme effort…but failed miserably and was already talking to Jackie on his mobile by the time I finally reached Philip.

“Philip, it’s me. Just listen and don’t ask any questions. I’m at Marc’s flat. Please, please, get over here as soon as you can,” I begged. “It’s a matter of life and death.”

“It had better be,” was the gruff reply. amd then silence.

By the time Philip arrived an hour later, Marc was fast asleep and snoring in the armchair. As soon as I let him in, I could tell from the tight lips and dark looks he flung me that things were going to get much worse between us before they got any better.

“There, in the bedroom.” I pointed.  He stormed into the bedroom without speaking.

 “Shit!” I heard him say.

A few minutes later, he returned and accepted the large brandy I had poured for him and another for myself. Marc and I had started on a new bottle. It was already a good third empty. Wordlessly, I handed Philip the note. He snatched it, glanced at the scrawl, his eyes narrowing as they registered Georgie’s name, and sat down heavily on the sofa.

Anticipating the next question, I related everything I had told Marc concerning what could only be Fat Georgie’s intention to exact revenge.  We were, after all, responsible for putting him behind bars for life. “But why kill Ginny? It makes no sense,” I finished lamely.

Philip said nothing but continued to sit, hunched forward, staring at the carpet.

“It must have something to do with her association with Danny,” I speculated. “They were close although I never for the life of me understood why.  He’ll be devastated!” I cried out as the thought hit home.

Philip merely nodded and gave me the strangest look as if he were seeing right through me.

“Jackie should be on her way,” I told him. “Marc didn’t say why he needed to see her. Oh, God, I hope she doesn’t bring Danny with her!”

“Danny will have to know sometime,” Philip growled.

“Yes, but not with the poor woman’s body lying in the next room for goodness sake.”

Philip shrugged.

“I suppose it was inevitable,” I muttered, “once Georgie found out Danny is still alive and Ginny knew, not to mention her being Jackie’s sister and Jackie getting together with Marc of all people.”

“Let’s hope you suppose correctly, for all our sakes,” Philip grunted.

 “What do you mean?”

I had to strain to hear above Marc’s staccato bursts of snoring. “I mean we have to pray Fat Georgie just wants revenge and has no connection with the Packards. If by killing Ginny he wants to scare the shit out of us, that’s bad enough. But if the Packards are in the know, it can only mean my cover really is well and truly blown.”

“Is that all you care about, your cover?” I couldn’t believe he could be so insensitive and uncaring. “A young woman has been strangled because of her association with us and all you’re bothered about is your cover? She’d probably still be alive if we hadn’t come back to London. Damn Danny and his girlfriend. He certainly knows how to pick ’em.” I had no difficulty in channelling my anger towards Philip in Danny’s direction.

“She was working for me,” said Philip so softly that I barely heard.

“What?”

“Ginny was working for me,” he repeated, “so if that’s why she was killed and not as part of Georgie’s revenge strategy, I’m probably dead meat whichever way you look at it.”

“Working for you?” I was gobsmacked. “Why? How on earth did you manage that? You must have paid her a pretty penny. She was the last person to grass.”

“She hated what the Packards are doing, smuggling women...some of them just kids…into the country and forcing them to work as prostitutes. She saw what happened to Poppy, remember.”

“How could I ever forget?” Poppy’s young-old face, wearing a permanently cheeky yet oddly endearing expression, sprung unbidden to my mind’s eye. Raped and murdered at fifteen years old, Danny’s erstwhile partner in crime, and more besides, had deserved better.

“Danny and Poppy were very close,” I murmured, close to tears. “Ginny always had a soft spot for Danny for the way he tried to take care of Poppy. She must have seen a younger version of herself in Poppy and wanted a better life for the poor kid.”

“You never spoke a truer word.”

“Oh?”  Something in Philip’s voice gave me the queerest feeling, as if someone were walking over my grave.

“Ginny Sharp was Poppy’s natural mother.”

Philip looked right at me. I could only stare in wide-eyed disbelief. “Poppy was adopted?”

He shook his head. “Ginny left her baby with the father. He was a school teacher so I dare say she thought he’d see Poppy alright. Don’t ask me how they got together in the first place. I haven’t a clue. She never got around to telling me that. I guess, by the time she discovered he’d become a heroin addict and was hiring out their daughter for sex to pay for his next fix, she must have figured it was too late in the day to save any of them.”

“No wonder Poppy ran away,” I murmured.

A shrill ring was a welcome distraction. I went to the entry phone in something of a daze. “It’s me,” called a voice I recognized as Jackie’s. “Come up,” I said and pressed the button to open the front door. “It’s Jackie,” I told Philip. “We had better wake Marc.”

“I’ve been awake for ages,” said Marc and opened his eyes. The stark pallor of his face reminded me of the corpse in the next room.

As I opened the door to Jackie, I tried to look serious and welcoming at the same time but gave up the attempt as soon as I saw Danny’s cheerful face peering over her shoulder.

 Jackie brushed past me

“What are you doing here?” I asked Danny.

“Oh, charming, nice to see you too.” Danny glared and entered the room. It was already starting to feel crowded.

I shut the door, turned, leant against it briefly with my eyes closed, fervently wishing I were somewhere - anywhere - else and took several deep breaths. Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I opened my eyes but could tell no one had noticed. I might as well have been invisible.

“So what’s so important that I’m expected to drop everything at the drop of a hat and come running?” Jackie was saying to Marc who, in turn, was giving Philip pleading looks. “Don’t think I’ve come crawling back to you either,” Jackie declared then visibly tensed, realizing something was wrong.

“Look, Jackie, let’s not row, okay?  Why don’t you sit down?” said Marc, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s giving you the shits? And I’d prefer to stand, thank you.”

“Why are you all looking as though someone’s just died?” Danny demanded, saw he had hit a nerve and sat down. “Oh, bloody hell. So who’s snuffed it then?”

“Ginny Sharp,” Philip answered him but did not take his eyes off Jackie.

“No!” Danny gave a pitiful yelp. I sat on the arm of his chair and put my arm around him but he shrugged it off.

“What happened?” Jackie asked. She seemed perfectly calm and was still on her feet.

“She was strangled,” Philip told her.

Danny uttered another yelp and again brushed away my attempts to comfort him. Although hurt by his rejection, I remained sitting on the chair arm, fidgeting with my hands and resenting Philip’s brute frankness. A more convincing show of sympathy and compassion, I reflected angrily, would have gone a long way.

“Poor Varicose,” was all Jackie said for several long seconds. “Do we know who or why? When did it happen...where…who found the body?” Philip handed her the note. She read it, her face expressionless. “How did you get this?”

“It was on the body,” Marc managed to say. He was close to tears and would have swept Jackie into a hug. but she took several steps backwards and looked him straight in the eye. “On the body, you say? So how the fuck did it get here?” She looked from Marc to Philip and back to Marc, only a glassy look in the eyes conveying anything less than complete self-control.

“It was on the body,” Marc repeated.

“It was Marc and Laurence who found her,” Philip explained. “Laurence called me and I came at once.”

“You mean…she was here…you found her here, in this flat?” Danny was understandably shaken. He turned to me as if expecting me to ridicule the idea or at least deny it. All I could do was nod my head.

“So where is she now?” Jackie’s voice shook as did her whole body. Nor did she wait for an answer. “She’s here, isn’t she?”

“Oh, bloody hell!” Danny cried out.

“She’s in the bedroom,” Marc told Jackie and again attempted to embrace her. But Jackie was having none of it. She ran to the bedroom, flung open the door and slammed it shut behind her.

The noise reverberated like a crash of thunder.

This time, Danny did not shrug off my arm around his shoulders and let his head rest in my lap. I wished he would say something, anything. But he remained quite still, making curious choking noises like someone unsure whether to laugh or cry.

Marc braced himself and went into the bedroom.

“What did the note say?” Danny asked after a long, unbearable silence. I told him. “Oh, shit!  I suppose the bastard had to find out.”

“The likes of Fat Georgie don’t to let go of grudges easily,” growled Philip.

“I dare say he’s lording it up behind bars just like he did on the outside!”  I all but spat the words.

“You’ve got to hand it to him,” said Danny, “He always did have his best interests at heart. One thing’s for sure, whoever killed Ginny is no amateur. I’ll tell you something else you already know too. Our names are on his shopping list.”

“Too right, they are,” Philip agreed.

“What I don’t understand is, why kill Ginny and why not kill me when he had the chance?”

“He’s playing with us,” said Philip and went to pour us all a brandy at the drinks cabinet.”

“Maybe,” said Danny, “but that still doesn’t explain why he should want to kill Ginny. The three of us, I can understand that, but Ginny…it doesn’t make any sense. She’d never have grassed us up, you know,” he flared suddenly, “no way! I dunno how Fat Georgie found out I ain’t dead and we’re back in London, but it wasn’t through Ginny.”

“People like Fat Georgie have a nose for these things,” I said, my eyes glued to the bedroom door.

“I shouldn’t have come back,” Danny sobbed. “It’s my fault she’s dead.”

“It’s no one’s fault,” I tried to reassure him.

“It it’s anyone’s fault, it’s probably mine,” said Philip with such uncharacteristic emotion that he had our attention instantly. “Ginny was working for me,” he told Danny, looking away only slightly as the boy stared in frank disbelief. I dare say my face worse much the same expression, the news having barely filtered through to my befuddled brain.  “Well, working with me, to be more precise.”

“By all means be precise.” I was being sarcastic, but even to my own ears I sounded naïve.

“She never would!” Danny shouted, “She’d never work with a copper, never, not even you!”

“She said she was doing it for Poppy,” Philip tried to explain.

“Sure, she thought the world of Poppy. That’s why she and I were close. But she’d never grass, never!” he repeated,

“She didn’t want people like Teresa to end up like Poppy.” I had only intended to suggest the idea, but it came out like a statement of fact.

“You knew?”  Danny rounded on me, “You knew Ginny was working for Phil and you never told me?”

“It wasn’t like that,” I protested while, at the same time, afraid of how he might react to the news that Ginny Sharp was Poppy’s birth mother.  But I got no further. At that moment, the bedroom door opened and Jackie emerged, looking very pale and drawn while still incredibly calm and collected. Marc was close behind. They were holding hands.

Philip waited until they were seated, arms around each other on the sofa, and held out two glasses.

We all took a sip of brandy except for Danny who had broken away from me and rushed into the bedroom. I rose to go after him.

“Let him go,” Jackie advised, “It might help him like it did me. If nothing else, it will make it more real. That makes it easier to deal with, you see, although I can’t explain why. They were close, you said?”  Marc nodded. “We were never that, poor Varicose and me. Poor, poor Varicose, she was always going to come to a bad end. I suppose I’ll have to let the family know.”

“Not yet,” Philip was adamant. “I suggest you all clear off and leave me to deal with this, for now at any rate. We can but pray the Packards haven’t a clue what Fat Georgie’s little chum is up to. If that’s the case, the longer it stays that way, the better.”

“For you, you mean.” I couldn’t help myself. I flung it all at him…bitterness, anger and a peculiar sorrow. 

“Yes, for me,” Philip responded in kind, “and for all of us. Surely, even you can see that, Laurence? Or do I need to draw you a picture? Needless to say, it won’t be a pretty one.”

“What is it with you and the Packards anyway?” I raged, “I thought you were supposed to be looking for a serial killer. Or is one of them your prime suspect? Is that it? It wouldn’t be Miles, by any chance, would it?”

“You know I never discuss cases.”

“True. After all, it would be unprofessional. Oh, and we can’t have that, can we?” I sneered. “God knows you’ve told me enough times how a good copper has to keep their professional and personal life separate. Well what about this business with Fat Georgie?  Can we discuss that, given that we’re all in the line of fire, or is that too bloody personal for you?”

I was being unreasonable, I knew, but didn’t care. He looked so angry and took a step forward. I thought he was going to hit me and prepared to parry any blow that might come.

Before anyone quite realized what was happening, Danny had dashed out of the bedroom and dived straight for Philip. Like the rest of us, Philip was caught off guard, so intensely was he focusing on me.

The pair rolled on the floor, Danny lashing out with both fists and feet like a madman.

“It’s your fault, you said so!” Danny yelled, “You killed her, you killed her, you killed her!” he kept screaming.

I could only stand and watch, stunned. Even in the state I was in, though, I could see Philip was exercising considerable restraint, his strategy more one of defence than attack. This was all the more admirable given that he had been taken by surprise as we all had. I should be grateful, I supposed. However, I wasn’t feeling particularly grateful or admiring, just very angry. At the same time, even I had to acknowledge the fact that Philip could easily have beaten Danny to a pulp. Had it been a professional or personal decision, I wondered?

I could not believe the ferocity of Danny’s sustained attack. 

It was Marc who finally managed to separate them. Philip was writhing on the floor and covering his face with his hands to ward off Danny’s blows. Marc dragged Danny away, enabling a bruised and bloodied Philip to stagger to his feet.  Danny hadn’t be allowed to get off without a scratch either but looked far less the worse for wear if considerably the more winded.

I answered my own question. It had been a very personal decision on Philip’s part. My anger evaporated on the spot.

“Let me go, let me go!” Danny screamed, struggling in Marc’s arms like a bear cub in a trap. He lashed out with his foot and caught Marc a nasty blow on the shin. Marc swore and lost his grip.

Danny broke free and flung Philip the strangest look. There was rage and loathing in it, yes, but there was an appalling hurt as well. I had seen that look before when I’d had to tell him Poppy was dead. I knew then that, although Danny’s pain was directed at Philip, his inner eye was almost certainly seeing Ginny Sharp’s bloodless face and that image, in turn, would be dissolving into Poppy’s.

I knew because the same thing was happening to me.

For a second time, Danny caught us all off guard, ran to the door, yanked it open and raced down the stairs.

We heard the front door slam. No one moved or spoke.

“I should go after him,” I said at last.

“Leave him. He’ll find his own way through this like he always does. When he has, he’ll be back,” said Philip. “Besides, we still have to solve the problem of Teresa and he’s not going to let us forget that in a hurry.”

“You’re right,” I agreed and felt slightly reassured. “He’ll be back for Teresa if not for any other reason.”

“Don’t put yourself down Laurence,” was Philip’s surprise rejoinder that I didn’t pretend to understand.

“I’m dreading Friday,” I admitted.

“It will be a lively birthday party, that’s for sure.” Philip grinned and I started to get angry again.

“It will be more than lively if the Packards have their way,” said Jackie and something in the way she spoke caused three heads to turn.  “There’s an auction on that night too. Miles let slip that the latest batch of illegals will be sold off in the early hours at a warehouse in Brixton. You can bet your sweet life the Packards won’t want to miss it.”

“More brandy, I think.” Marc broke the uncomfortable silence and went to the glass cabinet.

“Never mind the bloody brandy!” I shouted, “What about Teresa? For all we know, the Packards may be planning to auction her off too.”

“Teresa, we will deal with as and when,” said Jackie. “In the meantime, do I need to remind everyone that my sister’s corpse is in the next room?” He turned to Philip. “You said you had a plan?”

“Not a plan exactly,” Philip admitted, “But I think you should all bugger off for a couple of hours and please don’t ask any questions, especially you Laurence. Trust me, okay?” then to Jackie, “I promise you, everything will be done properly and respectfully. For the time being at least, however, we keep our mouths shut. If anyone asks about Ginny, we’ve heard she might have gone off with some rich bloke for a fling but she’s sure to be back when the money runs out…yes?”

Marc and I nodded. 

Jackie uttered a peculiar sound that might or might not have been laughter. “That sounds like Varicose. Poor Ginny, still making everyone think the worst of her even after she’s dead.”

Mark, Jackie and I left soon afterwards but I turned back.

Philip was already on the phone to someone. “Yes, that’s what I said, a body and, no, I don’t need a hearse. An unmarked police car will do fine. Oh, and you had better bring a doctor. I don’t give a fuck what you think or what excuse you give your wife and, yes, I do realize it’s your wedding anniversary and I’m asking a lot. Now, just do as I say…now.” He switched off the phone, pocketed it, turned round and didn’t seem in the least surprised to see me standing in the doorway.

“You sound just like the Packards.”  An irrational anger grabbed again and shook me in much the same way as a frustrated child might shake a soft toy, only it wasn’t stuffing but spite that spilled out. 

“Well maybe I’m more like them than you realize.”

“I don’t want to believe that, Philip, I really don’t. But you’re not making it easy for me. I suppose that’s more than your precious job’s worth isn’t it, making it easy for anyone?”

“Believe it. Now, whatever it is you’re dying to get off your chest, make it short and sweet. I have a lot to do and not much time to get it done.”

I completely forgot that I’d meant to ask about any developments regarding forensic tests on the handkerchief and tissue. Instead, I tried hitting another nail on the head, “What are you going to do about Fat Georgie?”

“Believe it or not, I already have people looking out for you, Laurie, for Danny too.  Trust me, I know my job.”

“It’s a pity you didn’t have someone looking out for Ginny Sharp then,” I retorted and saw his lower lip tremble the way it always did whenever he was angry or upset.

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Even you?”

“Yes, even me. I’m only human, Laurence.  But I’m also a cop trying to smash a gang of ruthless people smugglers as well as track down a serial killer I have reason to believe is part of the same equation. On top of that, I now have to try and stay a step ahead of a megalomaniac who should be in Broadmoor but, instead, is probably living the life of Riley in control of an entire prison wing. Now, suppose you trust me to get on with all that, yes? Good luck with Vincent on Friday, by the way.”

“Are you mad? You can’t expect us to go after what’s happened?”

“I think you’ll find that, once he’s calmed down, Danny will be as raring to go as ever. You know I’m right, just as I know you wouldn’t dream of letting Danny go it alone.”

“Can’t you do something?”

“I can try. In the meantime, Danny’s not so far off the beaten track if he thinks his crazy scheme is probably the best chance Teresa has of staying alive, let alone getting a life.”

“He told you?”

Philip nodded. “Like I said, it’s crazy. But it might work. The craziest ideas often do. Look at you. You’ve had enough in the past and you’re still here to tell the tale.” He grinned. “You know, you and Danny are so alike. Maybe that’s why I love you both to bits.”

“We love you too,” I said too quickly.

“Do you, Laurie? Do you really? So where does that leave your friend Ryan Banks?  Or maybe he’s just a fuck buddy, yes?  Or maybe that’s all I’ve ever been, a fuck buddy?”

“You know that isn’t true.”

“No, Laurie, I know nothing of the sort. I’m not even sure I know you any more. How could you fall for a toe rag like Ryan Banks?”

My hackles catapulted. “Ryan’s okay.”

“In bed, maybe, but how is he out of bed?  He runs with the Packards don’t forget.”

“It’s just a job.”

“You know me, Laurence. I’m a damn good copper.”

“So?”

“So how does a damn good copper fall in love with a naïve bugger like you?”

I kicked the door shut, ran down the stairs and nearly sent a woman flying who was struggling at the front door with a load of shopping. Nor did I stop running until I came to a pub.

After ordering a pint of bitter I headed for a corner table and reflected somewhat sceptically that I felt so horribly sober I might not have been drinking large brandies back at the flat at all.  Then I remembered why. Ginny Sharp’s face came in and out of focus like the Cheshire Cat. My head began to throb and my pint glass began spinning out of control.

I shut my eyes.

“Are you alright? You look terrible.” A voice managed to penetrate my misery.

I opened my eyes and they nearly jumped out of their sockets.  It was Shifty.

My heart turned somersault. “I’m fine thank you,” I replied stiffly.

As I watched him wander off towards the bar, I gave a huge sigh of relief. How   had he known where to find me? I refused to believe it was sheer coincidence.  Could he be Fat Georgie’s man, I wondered?

I began to panic but judged it the better part of valour to remain seated.

My panic subsided as self-recrimination quickly took over. How could I have forgotten to tell the others about him?  On its heels, another thought struck home, equally disturbing if not more so. Marc had been in the flat when I’d arrived in time to see Shifty leaving Grantham Court, Ginny Sharp already lying dead in his bedroom.

Physical and mental exhaustion had to take a back seat while I proceeded to speculate, with spiralling agitation, about what it could possibly be that my brother wasn’t telling me.

To be continued on Friday