Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Henry Bishop pulled up in his Astra on Carver Lane on the seafront and stepped out into the cold afternoon air.
He buttoned his coat up, threw down the remains of the cigarette he’d been smoking and crunched it into the ground with his size elevens.
He looked around him and took in the quiet street before knocking on the dirty green door.
‘It’s open,’ a call came from within.
Bishop chuckled to himself, opened the door and stepped into the ground floor flat.
It was dark and dingy and there was an underlying smell of sweat, desperation, and sex.
There were two doors leading off a tiny hallway.
One was ajar and led to a small, untidy kitchen, the second led into the living room-cum-bedroom.
He kicked open the door, saw the curtains were drawn, the room in complete darkness, and fumbled on the wall for the light switch.
He flicked it on, and the room lit up in a brilliant yellow from the exposed bulb in the middle of the room.
Tania Dove was on the bed, naked, a sheet playfully placed just below her navel. She squinted in the light and looked up.
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ she said, grabbed the dirty sheet and covered her modesty.
‘What do you want?’ Her accent was pure northern.
She sat up in bed and reached across to the bedside cabinet for a cigarette.
Tania was aged somewhere in her mid-thirties, and she was painfully thin, her eyes bulging, her teeth yellowed and crooked.
Her hair was greasy and lank, and her skin was dry and covered in bruises where clients had grabbed her too hard.
Bishop could perfectly understand why she kept herself in the dark.
‘Nice to see you too, Tania,’ Bishop said, walking around the room, taking in the décor. There was an old chest of drawers along the back wall covered in make-up and framed photos. He picked one up and studied the little boy in the picture. ‘Seen much of your Billy lately?’
‘You know full well I bloody haven’t.’
‘You must miss him.’
‘He’s better off where he is. What kind of a life can I give him, here? I can barely look after myself.’
‘How’s business?’ he asked, putting the photo down and continuing his journey around the room.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ She blew out a mouthful of smoke.
Bishop looked down into a bin and rolled his eyes at the used condoms. ‘Is this just today? You must be making money hand over fist.’
‘Look, what do you want, Bishop? I’ve got someone coming round in a minute. The last thing I need is a bloody copper answering the door.’
‘Not good for business, I’m guessing.’
‘Might be a tad embarrassing, if it’s one of your lot that’s coming round,’ she said, giving him a playful smile.
‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.’
‘I can say it louder if you like.’
Bishop sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Fancy earning yourself fifty quid?’
‘It wasn’t that long ago, detective, that you told me you wouldn’t be seen dead lying next to a filthy whore like me. What’s changed your mind?’ She purposely blew smoke in his face, and he didn’t even flinch.
‘No offence, Tania, but the day I have to start paying for it is the day I put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger.’
‘Finally found yourself a good woman, have you?’
‘That’s none of your business, Tania. Now, do you want fifty quid or not?’
‘What do I have to do for it?’
From his inside pocket he took out her statement, opened it, and placed it on the bed for her to see. ‘You gave one of my DCs a helpful statement the other day.’
‘Always happy to help the local constabulary in any way I can,’ she said playfully, drawing on her cigarette.
‘It’s good to hear we have the public on our side. However, I was wondering if you could give us a bit more detail about this bloke who likes to watch you have sex.’
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Remember the night of the big storm? October the tenth. It was a Monday. Were you out that night?’
‘You serious? It doesn’t take much to put the punters off coming out. Driving rain and hurricane-force winds. I didn’t even bother getting out of bed.’
‘You see, that’s not what I want to hear, Tania,’ Bishop said, taking out his wallet.
‘You show me a few pictures of the Queen, throw in a packet of fags, and I’ll tell you what you want to know,’ she smiled.