Part 13 (1/2)

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

'What d'you want?'

'What d'you think?'

Jennifer started to push the door shut but David prevented her slamming it in his face by ramming a hand against the panels.

'I told you not to come here again. It was a mistake,' Jenny said hoa.r.s.ely.

David's harsh chuckle was filled with self-loathing. 'Yeah ... it was a mistake, all right, but it's too late now.' He shoved the door, sending her skittering backwards a few paces, then walked inside, closing it behind him. He knew she was on her own because he'd waited in shadows for her previous visitor to leave before approaching the door. He'd given her ten minutes and was hoping in the meantime she'd washed and tidied herself up. Looking her over, he saw there was nothing to suggest she had. She looked a dirty s.l.u.t.

David was out of uniform, dressed in an overcoat and wide-brimmed hat, despite the fact it was a late summer evening. He could have laughed at his own stupidity; it wasn't an effective disguise and anyone who knew him by sight would spot a local copper calling on a prost.i.tute ... who happened to be his girlfriend's twin.

He now knew why Kathy ... sweet, beautiful Kathy ... was always so careful in choosing her words when answering questions about her sister.

Jennifer had told him herself why she was the black sheep of the family when he had brought her home after her shoplifting spree. It had been the last time he'd seen her looking clean and presentable. He knew she wouldn't have opened up that afternoon if she'd put the kettle on, as she'd said she would when she asked him in, Instead, on entering the disgusting dump she lived in, she'd headed straight towards the bottle of Scotch. She needed a nip to calm her nerves after the run-in with Grayson, she'd said. David now knew Jennifer Finch didn't need any excuse for a drink. She'd offered him the whisky, then when he'd declined because he was still on duty, taken two swift refills and shot them back in single swallows.

David knew he should have resisted the urge to go in when she offered him tea and conversation because she had something she wanted to get off her chest. But curiosity about her had overwhelmed him and it had been his downfall.

There was a sort of hideous fascination for him in the squalor of the way she lived, as there was in the fact that she reminded him of Kathy at times when she glanced at him from under her lashes with those big blue eyes. But Kathy's modesty was genuine, with no hint of a saucy challenge that made him feel she was begging him to tame her.

A typical drunk, Jennifer had got pushy and sulky when he refused to join her in 'a small snifter', as she called it. As soon as the touching started he'd known she'd the power to make him stay and it hadn't taken her long to set him straight about her profession and get him to agree to do whatever she wanted. Because she'd let him do whatever he wanted.

And he'd loved every minute of sordid pleasure that had left him naked, dripping sweat on a bed covered in filthy sheets. And he was back to do it all again, for the third time. David knew to his shame that Jennifer was as addictive to him as the Scotch was to her.

When he left her after their first encounter he'd been trembling. He'd driven past Kathy, seen her waving and smiling at him, and felt as though it was some divine retribution for his vile sin. By the time he got back to the station he was ready for a hot bath and had told Sergeant Booth he had to go home because he was feeling sick, as though he might have caught something. It hadn't been a lie; he was aware it was likely he'd get the clap, or worse, off Kathy's wh.o.r.e of a sister. Still he couldn't stay away.

Jenny tightened the belt of her dressing gown about her s.h.i.+vering form. She wasn't frightened of him; it was the antic.i.p.ation of what was to come making her quake. Only Bill had ever managed to make her feel this h.o.r.n.y, and he never bothered pleasing her much any more. He didn't even come over to please himself: she'd not seen him in a while and imagined the brunette in Lambeth had her claws sunk in him.

They stared at one another. David could see her swaying a bit and her eyes were glazed. He knew she'd already taken what she needed. Now it was his turn. He got the cash out of his pocket and let it fall to the table. The handcuffs followed, dropped with a clatter.

Jenny's eyes whipped to them and she licked her lips, her sudden intake of breath perking up her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She began untying the belt of her dressing gown as she sauntered past him towards her bedroom.

His wife was running in his direction to meet him when behind her Nick glimpsed a uniformed policeman entering the shop Blanche had just left. All things considered, he found it odd he'd never before set eyes on David Goldstein. Or perhaps he had seen him around the neighbourhood but not registered him as Emo's son. The copper was removing his helmet and, hatless, Nick could tell that David Goldstein wasn't swarthy like his father.

'What you doing here?' Blanche excitedly launched herself at her husband. He was leaning against a wall smoking, obviously waiting for her. They'd not seen each other in months and the only communication between them had been the solicitor's letters. Blanche was hoping Nick's unexpected appearance meant he might be persuaded to call off the divorce.

Nick ground the dog end beneath his shoe. He'd promised Tony he'd have a word with Blanche about getting friendly with Potter. He felt undeniably irritated to have taken on the duty, as he'd married the man's daughter out of decency, then had her cheat on him within a year. But he'd been fond of Blanche once and he wouldn't like to see her beaten up by the maniac who'd set about his mother and regularly beat his own family.

'Tony tells me you're seeing Charlie Potter.'

'Shame me father can't mind his own business, ain't it?' Blanche's mouth drooped sullenly.

'You're lucky he's not yet told Gladys,' Nick replied evenly. 'Tony reckons your mother'll have you out on your ear the minute she finds out you're knocking about with a nutter, and I think he's right.'

'Gonna take me in when she does?' Blanche suggested coyly.

'No; and neither will Charlie. He's got a wife and kids.'

'So what? Wes had a wife and kids.'

'Yeah ... he also had a bank balance that'd cover two homes.' Nick's lips twitched in sour humour. 'Till May told him different, that is.'

'Oh ... just p.i.s.s off, will yer? You've only come here to gloat.' Blanche didn't like to be reminded of how Wes had dumped her when she'd sacrificed everything for him. She especially didn't like to hear it from the husband she'd lost in the process.

'Ain't gloating, Blanche.' Nick didn't think Blanche would take much notice of anything he said; she never had in the past if it contradicted what she hoped to hear. 'Yer dad's worried sick about you and I can see why.'

'Can you?' Blanche snapped petulantly. 'Surprised you give a monkey's.'

'I wouldn't be here otherwise, would I?'

'Mean that?' Blanche asked, stepping closer and clutching Nick's arm.

'Listen ... I know Charlie Potter. Me mum knows him too and wishes she didn't. He ain't the charming life and soul of the party he likes to make out. He uses his fists on women when he can't get what he wants. Tony and me don't like the idea of you getting hurt. That's all there is to it.' Nick removed Blanche's stroking hand from his sleeve.

'You still going through with the divorce?' Blanche angled her face up to his.

'Of course; that's nothing to do with any of this, is it?' Nick said, curbing his impatience. He'd known that coming to see Blanche might give her false hope on that score. 'I'm just here to give you a friendly bit of advice. It's up to you if you take it or not.' Nick dug in a pocket, then offered the pack of cigarettes to Blanche before taking one himself.

When he'd lit the Weights they stood smoking in silence for a moment.

'How does Lottie know Charlie?' Blanche asked after a short contemplation.

'They went to school together, and me dad too.' Nick blew smoke sideways. 'Potter's had a fancy for my mum since they were kids, by all accounts.'

'Lottie!' Blanche snorted a giggle. She'd never known her widowed mother-in-law to have a man in her life. She certainly didn't imagine Charlie would go for a woman that old, even though she had to give it to the woman for keeping herself in shape.

'Yeah, Lottie,' Nick answered acidly. 'She's the same age as Charlie. He's old enough to be your father.'

Blanche flicked ash. 'Don't matter to me how old he is. I like older men.'

'Yeah, I noticed. Want a lift home?' Nick strode towards the car at the kerb. He'd had enough of trying to talk sense into his ex-wife.

Blanche trotted after him, hanging on his arm. 'I'd give Charlie up tomorrow if you 'n' me got back together, Nick.'

Nick stuck the cigarette in his mouth and jerked open the pa.s.senger door for her, a weary headshake his only response to her suggestion.

'Still seeing that ugly mare Joyce Groves, are yer?' she spat, stubbornly hanging back, making him wait.

'You getting in, then?'

Blanche threw her arms about his neck, nuzzling into his cheek. 'She's no good for you, Nick. I am. Fresh start, that's all we need. I'll make it all up to yer, swear on our dead baby's soul ...'

'f.u.c.k's sake! Shut up! How many times do I have to say it?' Nick disentangled himself and strode round the car. 'Get in or catch the bus.'