Throwaways (5 page)

We decided that there wasn’t much point in going back to the Di Marco house and being stonewalled by little miss pants on fire. We’d wait until tomorrow and try and catch her alone at school away from her mum. In the meantime, I made a quick phone call to Sheena’s parents to ask them if Sheena had ever mentioned someone called Lorna. Her dad answered in a weary voice and I wondered if the media had been bothering him and his wife again.

“Did Sheena ever mention a woman called Lorna Chanderpaul to you?” I asked him. “My cousin mentioned her and I wondered if you’d ever heard of her?” By now I was getting good at lying and I wasn’t proud of it. My dad told me never to become a liar and I worried that he’d be disappointed in me.

There was silence down the end of the phone, then, “Yes, I do remember that name. The surname stood out because there’s a West Indian cricketer by that name. I like my cricket. Sheena mentioned the woman to her mother. She said she was someone she’d met who was trying to help her. Get her to go back to college. I thought she was a social worker.”

A pause then a deep breath. “Sheena expressed an interest in going into that line of work, so she could help people. She’s a good girl. If she hadn’t fallen into Fredericks’ clutches she’d be at veterinary college by now. Not…”

He broke off talking to compose himself. There was a beat then he said, “If you find anything out, no matter how unpalatable it is, please let us know.”

After I’d promised him that I would, I turned to Tommy. “Why would Donna Di Marco be texting Lorna saying we know about Sheena? It can’t be that Sheena was a sex worker: everybody knows that.”

There had to be something we were missing. Something
occurred to me.

“Did your policeman pal check to see if the delectable Donna had a record for soliciting?” How else would she know Lorna Chanderpaul? Posh little rich girls don’t move in the same circles as those who work with sex workers and drug addicts. It didn’t seem likely that Sheena would have introduced them.

Tommy eyed me evenly. “They did and she’s clean.”

“It doesn’t mean she didn’t give prostitution a go. Just that she was never caught.”

Tommy grinned. “My, Miss Kerr. What a bleak outlook you have on humanity.”

That might be so, but thus far I’d been proved right.

* * *

When we pulled up across from the villa Suzy Henderson had once lived in with her parents in the leafy Glasgow suburb of Hyndland, there were two removal vans outside. When we got out of the car, a balding man in a suit and a red checked tie, walked over to us looking all officious.

“Hello, there. Can I help you?”

He looked like the one who needed help. Too many liquid lunches had given him a paunch and his suit jacket strained to contain the bulge that resembled an over-stuffed pillow.

“We’re looking for Mr. and Mrs. Henderson,” said Tommy.

The man smiled, exposing nicotine-stained teeth. “Sorry,” he said, “but that won’t be possible. They’re no longer in the country.”

His expression darkened. “You probably know about this business with their daughter.” We nodded. “They couldn’t stay here after that. Not with the memories and the media hounding them. I’d be moving to New Zealand too if that happened to one of my girls.”

A pause, then a worried frown crossed his chubby chops.
“You’re not journalists are you?” We shook our heads and walked back to the car.

“Great, our first dead end,” I said to Tommy as he snapped on his seatbelt.

Even if we knew where they’d gone, our resources didn’t stretch to going overseas to speak to them.

Tommy had a glint in his eye.

“Well, it would be if Suzy didn’t have a brother.”

I slapped him on the arm. This was the first time he’d mentioned a brother.

“Who’s to say he hasn’t flown out with his parents?”

Tommy tapped his nose. “My source tells me Suzy’s brother Matt’s estranged from his parents.”

“Okay, smarty pants. And did your source tell you why?”

Tommy looked smarmy. “The Hendersons are typical pushy parents. They set high standards for their kids who of course rebelled. Apparently, the son’s smart enough to pass the entrance exams for Oxford University, but he refused to go. Ended up working as a youth worker instead. And we know what happened to Suzy.”

Once they discovered what she was up to, dear mum and dad must have washed their hands of her.

“Where does he work?”

“A youth centre in Easterhouse.”

I sucked in some breath through my teeth. “Wow, that’ll cheese off the parents.”

Easterhouse was in one of Glasgow’s worst neighbourhoods. With high unemployment and a gang problem, it wasn’t the kind of place you’d expect to see a clever clogs rich boy. If you reached the age of 16 without losing a parent or sibling to drink, drugs or gangs, you were doing well.

The youth centre was located across from a newly built housing estate in a non-descript square building with a flat roof ominously covered with barbed wire. I wasn’t sure whether it was
there – to scare away the pigeons or the locals. When we reached the main door and walked through, there was a short carpeted hallway with two doors on either side. The one on the left was for the
Citizen’s Advice Bureau
and the other for the youth centre.

We turned right and into a large hall decked out like a sports hall.

“Can I help you?”

We’d barely walked in the building when a tall, handsome Rastafarian spoke to us in a part Afro-Caribbean, part Glasgow accent.

“We’re looking for Matt Henderson.”

The big man’s forehead creased. “Who wants to know?” The friendliness had gone.

There was no point in lying.

“We want to ask him about his sister because we think whoever killed her took our cousin too.”

“Bull shit.” It sounded like bull sheet and I suppressed a smile. “You parasites will sink as low as rattlesnakes to get a story.”

Two teenagers who’d been playing table tennis nearby stopped to glare at us. A second man in faded jeans and a hooded top appeared at Dreadlock’s back. He was much shorter than his friend, but carried himself with confidence. I’d no doubt he could break up a fight.

Chances were we were going to get chased, or worse. Then the man who’d appeared spoke.

“Thanks for looking out for me, Daz, but maybe I should talk to them first. They don’t look like press to me.”

He eyed us both in turn as he spoke. Matt Henderson couldn’t have been much older than his early 20s. He had a boyish face and his hair was the same colour as his sister’s.

“The pond scum who’ve been hassling me haven’t even been bothering with lies any more.”

This time he was addressing us. We were making progress.
“What’s your cousin’s name?” He’d dropped the attitude.

When we told him his features relaxed. “That’s tough.”

There wasn’t much he could say. He assumed Tanya was dead just like his sister.

“Okay. I can spare five minutes.”

We followed him through into an office where there was barely enough space for a desk and two chairs and a filing cabinet. I took the visitor’s chair whilst Tommy stood. Matt Henderson swiped a concertina of bright coloured files off his chair and plonked himself down; body arched forward with one hand placed on his chin.

“What do you want with me?”

After the initial questions like were you and your sister close (yes, when we were little, but not when we got older), I asked him about Lorna. His features relaxed.

“I know her by reputation. She’s a tough lady. Good at what she does.”

“And, what’s that?” I asked, playing dumb.

Matt Henderson gave me a stony look. “You’re the one asking about her.”

I put up my hands. “Fair enough, but I’d just like to know what you make of her. She was helping Tanya.”

Matt Henderson dragged his fingers through his hair, giving us a preview of how he’d look in twenty years’ time. His dad had a widow’s peak in the newspaper photo. “Is she linked to my sister’s death?”

“We don’t think so.” Tommy was getting good at this lying lark.

Matt went on. “Lorna’s one of the good ones. She has to be to get women off the streets. It’s a pity…” He broke off and stared at a dent on his desk. “…that Suzy never got to meet Lorna Chanderpaul. She might have saved her.”

With those words ringing in our ears, we left Matt Henderson to his regrets.

We waited until lunchtime and I was the one who made the call. “Donna, its Nancy Kerr. I know about the Healing Hands centre.”

There was a gasp on the other end of the phone. “I don’t know what you mean.” She said it in her stroppy teenager voice.

Picturing Donna finger poised, ready to disconnect the call, I jumped in with. “Which is it, Donna? Are you a street walker or a junkie?”

She had to be one or the other or how else would she know Lorna Chanderpaul?

A sob down the line, followed by a little girl voice. “Please don’t tell my mum.”

When I told Donna we wanted to see her, she didn’t resist. We arranged to meet at a nearby cafe where we could talk undisturbed.

When Tommy and I strolled into Sam’s cafe, Donna’s face was tight with worry. The place was busy, with workmen from a nearby building site, but she’d somehow managed to secure a table by herself; perhaps by the sheer dynamism of her personality. There was a mug of hot chocolate cupped between her hands as though she was trying to warm them. When she gazed up at us, her lips were set in a grimace and I felt a bit guilty. Bereft of make-up and wearing her school uniform of white blouse, tartan skirt and knee high socks, she looked about 14 and not like the stroppy 17-year-old we’d met earlier. We slid into the bench across from her and indicated to the waitress that we wanted two teas.

Being the one with the rapport with her – I think Tommy was being sarcastic when we’d discussed who’d try and pry her open like a can of sardines – I was the person who spoke first. “We talked to a pal of Tanya’s and she said she saw you at the drop in centre.”

The lies fell as easily from my lips as biscuit crumbs. We could hardly admit Tommy had hacked her phone. That sounded too stalkerish, not to mention being illegal. If she went to the police, the only crime we’d be investigating was which inmate had put glass in our food.

“Why were you there? Do you have a drug problem or are you selling your body?”

Donna had her head down. When she spoke, her words were almost a whisper. “It was only the once. I needed the cash, you know.”

Now I was confused. “What was only the once? What are you talking about?” I thought I knew, but I needed to hear the words from her own lips.

She stopped staring at her mug and slowly lifted her head. “I went with a man. Let him do things for money.” Her voice started to tremble. “It was horrible. He was old enough to be my dad.”

“Why would you do it?” I asked. And I meant it. She lived in a fancy house; had a doting mother. She couldn’t be short of pocket money. “Do you spend a lot of money on party pills? Have a druggy boyfriend like Sheena?”

She shook her head. “I like nice things, you know. My dad used to buy me lots of stuff; anything I wanted. But, then he left mum for his secretary.” She scrunched up her face. “What a fucking cliché. And, she’s not even that pretty. Or thin. She’s at least a size 12.”

Sitting there in my curvy size 14 clothes, I resisted the urge to give her a good shake. I’d never had any complaints from men including Tommy – they loved my curves. Then I remembered the way she looked when we first came in; like a child out of depth in an adult world and instead of letting her have a mouthful, I patted her hand. “Its okay, Donna. We all do things we later regret.”

Tommy made noises of agreement, trying to cover for the
tittering he’d been doing at my reaction to the fat jibe. He’d pay for that later.

“This man, where did you meet him? Was it on the street, the same way Sheena met her clients?”

Our teas arrived, but the plump woman with a spray tan who put them on the table did so without appearing to ear wig. Maybe she was trying to be discreet or had heard worse. She’d already gone back to the counter when Donna almost spilled her hot chocolate and our teas by jumping up. “No, I would never do that.”

“Donna, please sit down.” Tommy’s voice was calm. “Anything you tell us is completely confidential. We won’t tell your mum or the police. We just want to find Tanya and Sheena.”

He’d no right to promise that, but I let him. The last thing we needed was for her to clam up.

Tommy’s words seemed to calm her and she sat back down.

I repeated my question. “How did you meet this man, Donna?”

“Someone set it up.”

“Who?”

Donna swallowed as though she was debating whether to tell us, then said. “Sheena’s friend Lorna.”

“The counsellor from the drop in centre introduced you?” Whatever I’d expected, it hadn’t been that. “I don’t get it. Isn’t she supposed to get girls off the streets?”

Donna shrugged as if it was no big deal. She couldn’t see the hypocrisy of this woman’s actions. “Lorna said we could earn a lot of money and we’d be safe.”

She made it sound like Saint Lorna had been looking out for her, not exploiting her.

“How did you meet Lorna?” said Tommy. “Did Sheena introduce you?”

Donna’s eyes moved towards her lap. “Yeah, she told me she was cool. That I’d like her, but…”

For the first time she looked uncertain.

“But, what Donna? What didn’t you like about her?”

“I didn’t think it was right what she was doing. She should have been getting Sheena to stop, you know. Having sex for money. Not doing what she was doing.” A muffled sob. “With me it was just the one time, but with Sheena it was loads of times.”

Straightening up in my chair, I said, “What do you mean? Did Lorna set Sheena up with other men?”

Donna nodded. “She said it’d be safer. That Sheena wouldn’t have to worry about ending up dead in a ditch or in some nutter’s basement.”

For all we knew that could have been her fate.

“Donna, when you went with this man, did he give you money? Or, did Lorna deal with that side of things?”

Donna tore open a sugar sachet and dumped it in her mug, stirring it in to her hot chocolate before she answered. As she stirred, her hands were shaking and I noticed her nails were chewed.

“Lorna dealt with that. She said that people were funny about money and it’d make it easier.”

Easier for who?
Lorna to collect her share? The unscrupulous bitch wasn’t just pimping them out; she was profiting from vulnerable young women. Calling it an abuse of trust barely covered it. What chance did women have when one of the counsellors, who was there supposedly to get them off the streets, was making sure they remained in the sex industry?

As the words tripped out, Donna stared straight ahead, shoulders hunched. “After that one time when she set me up with that guy, I should have told Sheena to stay away from her. But, when she offered us 500 quid each just to put on a lesbo show, I said I’d do it. Unlike that other time…” She paused and finally made eye contact. “I’d be safe because Sheena would be
there and she knew how to boot a punter in the balls.” The small chuckle that erupted from Donna’s throat seemed out of place. “She had to do that once when a guy smacked her one and tried to get something for free.”

Sheena must have talked about her punters a lot because her friend spoke like this was normal. To me it was chilling. Strip away the confident outer shell and the adult clothes and make-up, and Sheena and Donna were just kids playing at being grown-ups.

“You didn’t go, did you?” I said it gently, not wanting to sound like I was blaming her. “Who was this man? Where were you to meet him?”

Donna didn’t seem to hear my question. “Lorna said we didn’t have to sleep with this guy. We just had to dress nice. Put on a girl on girl show for this man. She said he was nice. That he just wanted to watch us kiss; rub against one another. She said it was easy money.”

“What happened?”

Donna shook her head. “I don’t know. I got sick. Food poisoning. Sheena said not to worry. That she’d ask someone else to take my place.”

Her face crumpled. “She’s dead because of me. Isn’t she?”

“Donna, what happened is not your fault,” I said. “In fact, if you’d gone you’d probably be missing too. Or…” I didn’t finish the sentence. But, Donna knew what I’d been about to say.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” Donna sobbed. “Oh, my god. She’s dead.”

I got up and sat down beside Donna, placing my arm around her shoulder as the woman behind the counter eyed us. “We don’t know that she’s dead.” It wasn’t a lie. Sheena was alive when her finger was bitten off. There was a chance, however slim, that she was alive. Until the police found a body, there was always a chance.

Donna began to shake. “I lied about the food poisoning. I
didn’t want to go. Sheena said it’d be fun. That we’d have a laugh. Make a lot of cash so we could go on holiday together. But it’s not me. The time I did…” She broke down. “I felt so dirty afterwards. I scrubbed myself clean.”

“Donna,” I said gently. “Do you know who Sheena took instead?”

“No,” she said, “Sheena didn’t say who she was taking.”

“Who do you think she’d have gone with?” said Tommy, “was there anybody she’d talk about? Anybody she’d met on the streets that she was pally with? Someone she trusted?”

Donna shrugged. “No. Not really. We didn’t talk about that.” She paused as if she was thinking. “Oh, there was this one girl she mentioned a few times. Kim. She was called Kim. She met her when she first started.”

“Do you know her surname?” said Tommy.

Donna shook her head.

Inwardly, I groaned. There would be lots of girls with that name on the streets. I’d hoped Donna would give us the name of someone we could actually find.

“All I know is that she wasn’t from here. I think she was Russian or Romanian or something. She had an accent.”

I leaned in towards her. “Donna,” I said softly, “You do know that the police believe Kim has also gone missing?” It had to be the same girl.

Donna shuddered. “No, I didn’t. Honest. I stopped reading the papers after Sheena went missing. The things they said about her were horrible…I worried that if the same thing had happened to me they’d be saying those things about me too.”

Donna was so shaken up that when we offered to take her home, she agreed.

Before she got out the car, I urged her not to contact Lorna ever again. I promised her that once we were done, we’d tell the police all about Lorna’s little sideline.

She didn’t need any encouragement. “Because of her, Sheena’s
probably dead and I could have been dead too. She’s an evil witch.”

She’d get no disagreement from me.