Friendless Lane

Book 6: Lilly Valentine

by Helen Black

Genres: Mystery

Synopsis

Lilly Valentine, tough talking lawyer and single mother, never makes things easy for herself and her latest case is about to become her biggest challenge yet. Several years ago, Lilly successfully represented a terrified teenager, Kelsey Brand, accused of the brutal murder of her own mother. Now, ten years later, Kelsey has contacted Lilly again, this time to help her find her missing friend, Gem, last seen working in a strip club in the red light district in Luton. And when another girl disappears from the same area, the evidence begins to point to a grooming gang targeting young and vulnerable teenage girls. Then Gem's mutilated body is discovered in a desolate country lane and Lilly realises that she must do everything she can to find the still-missing girl before tragedy strikes once more. But is Lilly a match for the gang of men involved who will do anything, including murder, to get what they want?

Release date: April 2, 2015

Publisher: Constable

Print pages: 256

Sample

Lilly rummaged in her daughter’s drawer and chose the cosiest jumper she could find. It was a present from her dad, red as Christmas and twice as cheerful. It didn’t really suit Alice’s strawberry-blonde curls, but what the hell? She was only two.

‘Arms up, kiddo,’ said Lilly.

Alice blew a spit bubble and clamped her fists to her sides.

‘Like this.’ Lilly mimed putting on a jumper. ‘See?’

Alice answered clearly, using her favourite word. ‘Noooooooo …’

Lilly sighed. ‘You know you don’t have to disagree with me on principle. You’re not a teenager yet. It’s not statutory behaviour.’

‘Can you imagine what a nightmare she’ll be at my age?’

Lilly looked up at the voice. Her son stood in the doorway in his boxer shorts, idly scratching his balls. She turned back to Alice and cocked her thumb in the direction of Sam’s crotch. ‘Apparently that is statutory behaviour for teenage boys.’

The little girl gurgled at the distraction and Lilly whipped the sweater over her head. Realizing what had happened, Alice frowned first at her top, then at her mother.

’You snooze, you lose, kiddo,’ Lilly told her.

She reached into the drawer for socks, searching for a pair. ‘Why aren’t you in school?’ she asked Sam.

‘Study leave,’ he said. ‘Why aren’t you in work?’

‘Hospital appointment for your sister.’

He sidled into the room and dissolved on to the bed like an ice cream melting down a bare arm. He lay face first and spoke into the pillow.

‘Is Jack going with you?’

Lilly tried to tame her daughter’s hair with her fingertips. It didn’t much improve matters. She considered a hairbrush, but the very sight of a Tangle Teezer could result in an hour’s worth of howling, thrashing and vomiting. Fuck that for a game of soldiers.

‘You two are very cosy all of a sudden,’ said Sam.

Lilly eyed the sticky puddle that was her son. ‘He’s her dad. He wants to be there.’

‘And what about my dad?’

‘What about him? If you were ill, I bet he’d want to be there.’

Sam grunted into the Peppa Pig duvet. Another gift from Jack. To be honest, Alice didn’t like the programme, didn’t like television full stop. And she didn’t sleep under the duvet, or even in the bed, refusing to shut her eyes unless Lilly or Jack was in spitting distance.

‘Dad says you don’t know what you want,’ said Sam.

‘Your dad talks shit,’ said Lilly. ‘Sorry, mate, but you know it’s true.’

Sam closed his eyes. His dad had lots of great qualities. He was fun, full of enthusiasm and he would cheerfully play endless hours of Call of Duty (a game Lilly had tried to ban from the house), but there was little doubt he talked a lot of shit, especially when it came to Lilly.

‘Are you getting back with Jack?’ Sam asked.

‘No, I’m not getting back with Jack, and I’m not getting back with your dad either.’ She laid her hand on her son’s head, feeling the slight dampness of his scalp. ‘We’re all right on our own, aren’t we?’

He didn’t answer, just breathed into Peppa’s ugly snout. A nightmare of pink deformity. No wonder Alice hated her!

‘I’ve got to concentrate on you two,’ said Lilly. ‘You’ve got your GCSEs coming up and I need to support you.’

Sam sniffed and got up from the bed.

‘I’m going to have a shower.’

[#]

The doorbell rang. Lilly waited. Jack had a key but always rang first. Sure enough, she soon heard the telltale sound of him struggling with the lock and cursing as he picked his way through the recycling and kit bags in the hallway.

‘We’re up here,’ she called down.

The sound of his boots thudding on the stairs made Alice squirm.

‘Aren’t coppers supposed to know how to creep about?’ Lilly asked him when he stuck his head around the door.

At the sight of her father, Alice threw out her arms.

‘Hello, my lovely.’ He scooped her up. ‘Don’t you look a bobby-dazzler in that jumper?’

‘Noooooo,’ said Alice, but gave him her best gummy grin.

‘Better get going,’ said Lilly.

‘Changing bag?’ asked Jack.

‘I was just about to pick it up,’ Lilly lied.

‘Cuddly toy?’

Lilly grabbed the nearest teddy.

‘That one?’ Jack asked.

‘It’s her new favourite.’

Lilly jiggled the bear close to Alice’s cheek and a bell sewn into his ear tinkled. Alice snatched the toy and shook it with a murderous ferocity. Funny how she liked bells but couldn’t tolerate footsteps. Capricious child.

‘What did I tell you?’ said Lilly.

As they made their way out of the bedroom to the stairs, the bathroom door opened and Sam appeared, dripping, his modesty covered by a hand towel.

‘My eyes, my eyes,’ said Jack.

Sam gave a mirthless laugh, stepped back into the bathroom and slammed the door.

‘What’s up with his nibs?’ Jack asked.

‘Age. Hormones. You name it.’

[#]

Once in the car, Jack didn’t speak. Instead, he turned on the CD player and let the sound of the overture from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro flow from the speakers to the little ball of fury strapped into her car seat in the back.

To be fair, Jack knew as much about classical music as he did about quantum physics, but one day his radio had been stuck on Radio 3 and he noticed how the music had soothed Alice. And frankly, anything that soothed Alice was A Very Good Thing.

He looked across at Lilly. They couldn’t chat. Even whispering above the music provoked volcanic tantrums.

‘Okay?’ he mouthed.

She smiled, nodded and turned to look out of the side window.

He knew how much she hated these hospital visits. It wasn’t just the hospital itself, though she loathed that with a clichéd intensity; it was the fact that she had to face up to what was going on with Alice.

Lilly, straight-talking, no-bullshit northerner, wanted to pass on this one. The bravest woman he knew wanted to run away.

Still, at least she was trying. She’d spent the last two years arguing with him about it, and Mary Mother of God could Lilly Valentine argue! This tight-lipped, pinch-cheeked silence was progress.

Jack laughed to himself.

Lilly jabbed him with her elbow and mouthed, ‘What’s funny?’

He shook his head and laughed again. In reality, the situation wasn’t particularly humorous; his daughter was possibly autistic and he’d split up with her mother, the person he’d envisaged spending the rest of his life with. Yet somehow he felt strangely light, happy even.

An image of his ma popped into his mind, her hair a grey carbon-fibre helmet of perm and lacquer, a fag permanently lit in her hand.

‘Don’t go getting giddy, son,’ she said. ‘It won’t last.’

For some reason this just made him laugh all the more.

[#]

Kelsey hammered on the door with the side of her fist. No answer. She hopped from foot to foot. It was bloody freezing and she was dying for a rock. She banged again. Still no answer. Fuck it.

She bent down to look through the letter box. If anyone passed behind her on the walkway, they’d get a good flash of her knickers. As the wind whistled through the cheeks of her arse, she wished she was wearing a pair of woolly tights. But in her line of work they’d go down like a cold cup of sick.

She peered into the flat. It looked deserted and there was a funny smell.

‘Anyone in?’ she called. ‘You at home, Gem?’

She listened for signs of life. Nothing.

Fuck it.

When she straightened, next door had opened up, some old bag standing there in her dressing gown and slippers. She had a look on her face that reminded Kelsey of Mrs Mitchel. Back in the day, Kelsey had lived on the Clayhill with her mum and the little ones. Not far from here. Mrs Mitchel had lived a few doors down. She’d been all right in the beginning, lending Mum bits of food and that, sending Kelsey on errands, calling her ‘a good girl’. Then one day she’d sent her to the Spar for fags and said the change had come back short. Said Kelsey had nicked it. Threatened to call the police.

Thing was, Kelsey hadn’t nicked the flaming change. She’d just taken what was rightfully hers. What the ugly bitch didn’t know was that Mr Mitchel liked to cop a feel when he had the chance, and that he used to pay Kelsey a quid to keep shtum. Then one day he didn’t want to give her the pound, but he still wanted to stick his nasty nicotine-stained finger inside her, didn’t he? So Kelsey kept the change from the fags. It was only fair.

‘They ain’t in,’ said the woman in the dressing gown. ‘So you can stop knocking.’

‘Do you know where they went?’ Kelsey asked.

The woman looked her up and down, taking in the thigh boots, the pink fishnets, the scars around her mouth.

‘Not a clue.’

Kelsey was about to ask if the woman had a mobile number for Gem’s mum, but the door was already shutting.

[#]

Lilly had tried to keep smiling until she and Jack had dropped Alice at nursery. Not that it seemed to matter to Alice. Her moods rarely seemed set by anything Lilly did or said. Now, as she unlocked the door to her office and slumped into the chair in reception, she let her face fall. She had been determined not to let the consultant’s words get to her, but right now they were swilling around her head.

Developmental delay.

Oversensitivity to light and sound.

Communication difficulties.

How could Jack just sit there, calmly nodding his head? At one point he’d even made a note. Couldn’t he see how devastating it was? Did he not want to just scream and throw his pen across the room?

Lilly buried her face in her hands and tried to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose … Whenever she thought about what might be wrong with Alice, she felt a heaviness in her chest. Right now the heaviness had become a dead weight, constricting her lungs. In through the nose, out through the mouth …

‘You all right?’

Lilly looked up and saw the young prostitute in the doorway.

‘Is it a bad time?’

Lilly shook her head. ‘Nah, come on in, Kelsey. Or is it Misty these days?’

‘Only if you want a blow job.’

Lilly smiled and gestured to a free chair. Kelsey sat down, tugging at the leather skirt that barely covered the tops of her stockings.

‘Got your own firm now?’

Lilly nodded. ‘Valentine and Co. Not that there’s any co.’

‘You always were a one-off,’ said Kelsey. ‘Probably better if you work on your own.’

‘Less trouble that way, for sure.’

Kelsey patted down her jacket pockets and pulled out a packet of Benson & Hedges. ‘Can I smoke?’

‘No.’

Kelsey sighed theatrically, took out a cigarette and stuck it behind her ear. ‘I suppose you’re wondering why I’m here.’

‘My scintillating company?’

Kelsey laughed. ‘Remember that kid you represented?’

‘You’ll have to narrow that down, Kelsey. I’ve filing cabinets full of old cases.’

‘The girl who got nicked in the brothel,’ said Kelsey. ‘Then they put her in that nut house.’

‘You mean Gem?’

Kelsey took the fag from behind her ear and rolled it between thumb and forefinger. ‘Yeah, that’s the one.’

Lilly remembered her well. The poor kid had been what, fifteen? Working in a Turkish knocking shop when she’d been arrested for battering a punter. Lilly had managed to persuade the desk sergeant at the time that it was Gem who was the victim, and that she needed to be released to the Grove, a residential unit for young people suffering mental problems. The fact that the punter had been a job meant everyone had been keen to sweep the incident under the carpet. The Chief Super had probably accepted the old boy’s resignation with regret and he was now sunning himself in the Costa del Sol on a full police pension.

‘Thing is,’ said Kelsey, ‘she’s missing.’

Lilly frowned. For kids like Gem, missing could mean a lot of different things, from being temporarily on the not-at-home list in order to avoid money lenders/drug dealers/court cases, to much darker situations.

‘When did you last see her?’ she asked.

‘A couple of days ago.’

A couple of days was nothing. A party could last that long. Yet Kelsey Brand wasn’t the type to rattle easily.

‘She’s been working out of the same place as me,’ said Kelsey.

‘For God’s sake, Kelsey, she’s fifteen.’

Kelsey folded her arms across her chest, each fingernail ringed in the telltale black residue of crack cocaine.

‘I aint bleedin’ pimping her, Lilly. She come of her own accord.’

‘She’s still fifteen. She should be in her foster placement. We sorted her out with a nice family in Welwyn Garden City.’

Kelsey snorted. ‘Broke down after two days. And the next one. And the one after that.’

Lilly rubbed her cheek. It was a familiar pattern for kids in care, pinging from placement to placement like a pinball.

‘So where’s she been staying?’ she asked.

‘Back home,’ Kelsey replied. ‘Though her mum ain’t the full ticket.’

‘Drugs?’

‘Don’t think so. Don’t really matter.’

It didn’t.

‘So Gem’s been working where?’

Kelsey waved her hand distractedly, the unlit cigarette between her fingers. ‘A place in Tye Cross. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on her.’

Lilly arched one eyebrow. Kelsey didn’t seem the caring and sharing type.

‘What?’ Kelsey was indignant. ‘I ain’t fucking heartless, you know.’

Lilly was about to laugh when the door opened and Jack poked his head in.

‘Mary Mother of God,’ he said. ‘Is that Kelsey Brand sitting there as bold as brass?’

‘Fuck me, if it ain’t Jack McNally.’ Kelsey turned to Lilly. ‘You two together, are you? I always knew he wanted to get inside your knickers.’ She stood up. ‘Now I definitely need a bleedin’ fag.’

‘At least go to the door,’ Lilly told her.

Kelsey crossed reception until she was standing right in front of Jack, wobbling in her six-inch heels, chest thrust out at him.

He coughed. ‘I’ll be off.’

‘Yeah, you do that, Mr Plod.’ Kelsey laughed and waved him off, her fag clamped between her teeth. ‘You two an item!’

‘We’re not an item,’ said Lilly.

‘Right,’ said Kelsey and blew her smoke into a gust of wind that carried it directly into the office.

‘Getting back to Gem,’ said Lilly.

‘Like I say, we been working out of the same place,’ said Kelsey. ‘Doing all right as it goes. Clean place, good pay, could be worse.’ She flicked her ash on to Lilly’s doormat. ‘But a few weeks ago, these Paki boys been coming in.’

Lilly cringed at the casual racism, but said nothing.

‘I told Gem they were dodgy as fuck,’ said Kelsey. ‘You get a sense for the wrong ’uns. Mum always told me that.’

‘And now she’s disappeared?’

Kelsey finished her fag and flicked the dog-end into the street. It landed on the pavement still glowing orange. A man who was walking past glared at her over a pair of rimless half-moon glasses. Kelsey stared right back, until he scurried away.

‘She ain’t been into work and she ain’t answering her phone. I even been round hers this morning.’

‘I’m not sure what I can do,’ said Lilly. ‘The last address I had for her was the placement in Welwyn.’

‘Can’t you ring social services?’ asked Kelsey. ‘Or ask lover boy if he knows anything?’

Lilly rolled her eyes.

‘Don’t tell me the filth don’t have all sorts of information on a computer,’ said Kelsey.

‘Yeah, but members of the public can’t access it,’ said Lilly.

‘Just ask him while you’ve got your finger up his arse,’ said Kelsey. ‘Usually does the trick.’

Lilly opened her mouth to explain yet again that she and Jack weren’t together, but Kelsey was already halfway down the steps.

‘If she’s back in care or gone off with some boy, that’s fine,’ Kelsey called over her shoulder. ‘If she’s in jail, that’s her lookout. I just want to know she ain’t lying in a ditch somewhere.’

Lilly followed her outside. ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to find out anything,’ she called.

‘Thanks for this, Lilly.’ Kelsey crossed the road. ‘You’re a diamond.’

[#]

Lilly trotted down to the room where she did her casework. She didn’t allow clients on this floor. She told herself she liked the separation of church and state, but she knew that wasn’t the real reason. Frankly it was the mess; it was enough to put off even her homeless customers.

Underneath piles of papers, files, computer disks and books was a desk. Last seen circa 2012. On the far edge was a small cactus in a pot. The label called it a Night-Blooming Cereus. Of course there had never been a single petal at any time of the day. It stuck resolutely to what it knew best: spikes. You had to admire that kind of single-mindedness, didn’t you?

She pressed the dusty soil with her thumb and looked around for a bottle of water. All she could find was a half-finished can of Diet Coke. It would have to do.

Plant revived, Lilly scouted around for Gem’s old file. There might be a number for a social worker in there. It wasn’t really her place to try to locate the girl. After the charges of assault were dropped and Lilly had sent a letter to the head of Children’s Services begging that Gem be placed with the baby brother she’d cared for virtually single-handedly, her involvement was over. Case closed.

Yet something about Kelsey’s persistence urged her on. And a couple of calls couldn’t hurt. With any luck Gem was tucked up in a shiny new foster placement and they could both have their minds put at rest.

She found the number and dialled.

‘Gregor Stone.’ The American accent was a jolt. ‘Children’s Services.’

‘Oh hi … this is Lilly Valentine. You won’t remember me but I wrote to you about my client Gemma Glass …’ she flicked through the file, ‘a few months ago now.’

‘But I do remember, Miss Valentine.’ The warm tones of the Deep South flowed like honey barbecue sauce. ‘I was darn impressed that you convinced the police not to proceed against Gemma. You must be one hell of a negotiator.’

Lilly smiled. In her job it was rare to receive recognition. Far more usual to have a copper ignoring you, a judge growling at you and a client asking to borrow a fiver ‘for bus fare’.

‘So what may I do for you?’ he asked.

‘I wondered if you had any up-to-date information on Gemma,’ said Lilly. ‘The placement in Welwyn broke down pretty quickly, I understand.’

‘Sadly, that’s often the case. For these young people it’s very hard to make the transition from chaos to somewhere more stable,’ he said.

‘I know,’ said Lilly. ‘It wasn’t a criticism.’

He made a noise in his throat that sounded like ‘ha’ but wasn’t a laugh. Then she heard the sound of fingers tapping a keyboard.

‘There was a second placement in Enfield,’ he said.

‘Bit far.’

‘Beggars can’t afford to be choosers, Miss Valentine. We simply don’t have enough foster carers to keep all our children in the borough.’

Lilly sighed. She knew there was a chronic shortage of foster families, especially for teenagers, but Enfield! A kid like Gem wouldn’t have been any further than Luton town centre. Enfield might as well have been the moon.

‘When that placement broke down, we tried a new couple in St Albans,’ said Stone. ‘They didn’t have any experience but at least they lived close to Gemma’s birth family.’

‘How long did that last?’ Lilly asked.

‘Gemma didn’t stay the night.’

‘Christ.’

‘After that we had to be pragmatic and accept that wherever we put her, she was simply going to vote with her feet. Far from ideal, but we didn’t see any point in trying again just for her to leave an hour later.’

Lilly let out a long breath. He was right. But by God, it seemed so horribly defeatist.

‘The thing is,’ she said, ‘Gemma’s not actually at home.’

There was a pause.

‘When did a social worker last visit?’ she asked.

‘I’m not sure of the exact date,’ Stone replied.

Lilly rolled her eyes. The man was accessing Gem’s file on screen as they spoke. No doubt no one had been to see her in weeks.

‘Well at some point since the date that you’re not exactly sure of and today, Gemma’s gone missing,’ she said.

‘Missing?’

‘Yup. Not at home. Not at work. Not answering her phone.’

‘Have you reported this to the police?’ Stone asked.

‘Not yet,’ Lilly replied. ‘I was hoping you might have some good news.’

‘Unfortunately, Miss Valentine, in this job, good news is in very short supply.’

[#]

The two o’clock news came on the radio. Civil war, famine, barbarism. A man in a faraway land had been killed by a mob and eaten limb by limb. Not cooked in a stew and served up in bowls, but ripped raw from the bone by sharp white teeth. Mary Mother of God, thought Jack, could that possibly be right? He’d come across a lot of ugly stuff in his time, but cannibalism? Jeez. He listened closer, sure he’d got it wrong, but the programme had already moved on to the next story: a missing girl, a hysterical mother.

He leaned across the steering wheel and pressed the off button with the pad of his thumb. Noise from outside suddenly smashed into the car. The BMW in front hooted angrily at a white van blocking the road, hazard lights winking defiantly. To the right a pneumatic drill pounded the pavement to shards and dust, ready for replacement with smooth fresh slabs. It seemed to Jack that Harpenden was endlessly being renovated. Each road and path being made anew on a constant loop. The residents demanding that everything in their lives must be bigger, better, brighter and shinier, even down to the concrete that touched the soles of their hand-stitched shoes.

While other towns quietly crumbled under the weight of the recession, Harpenden shone like the North Star, fuelled by the mega-watt money pouring in from the City.

Lilly often described the place as ‘a bubble’; when she was feeling especially harsh it was ‘overprivileged’, and when she’d had one too many it became ‘toxic’. The woman was a class warrior to her bones. She’d opened an office here to pick up the lucrative divorce work, charging a hundred and fifty quid an hour to argue over the contents of the hoover bag. But her heart was over in Luton, with the kids in care and their legal aid cases.

Jack headed away from the town centre and drove down the A5 towards the nick. He’d booked today off as annual leave but he just wanted to check a few things on his desk. As he pulled into the car park, his stomach growled. He’d intended to take Lilly out for lunch to cheer her up; the offer of food nearly always did the trick, but fuck a duck, Kelsey Brand had been in reception.

Clearly on the game. Clearly on the pipe.

He’d legged it out of there sharpish, and now he was starving.

He let himself in through security and made straight for the station canteen. The lunchtime rush was over, but there were still a few stragglers hanging around, sipping coffee, going through their notebooks.. . .