Backlash by Sally Spencer Page B

in cheap, flashy clothes, and heavily – if hastily – made-up, and if she wasn’t already on the game, then she was at least teetering on the very edge of it.
    The older one could have been twenty-five or twenty-six. She was slightly less attractive than her companion, but had a style – both in her dress and her manner – that the other woman could never hope to emulate.
    As the back bumper of the MGA approached the yellow line which marked the edge of her space, she saw the two women step to one side. But they made no effort to move away. Instead, they stood in silence, and watched while she completed the manoeuvre.
    Paniatowski shifted the gear stick into neutral, switched off the engine, and stepped out of the car.
    â€˜Is there something I can do for you, ladies?’ she asked.
    â€˜It’s our friend, Grace,’ moaned the younger one. ‘She’s gone missing.’
    â€˜Gone missing?’ Paniatowski repeated.
    â€˜I told you I’d handle this, Marie,’ the older one said, firmly but kindly.
    The younger one looked down at the ground. ‘I’m so sorry, Lucy, I just forgot.’
    â€˜It’s all right,’ the older one – Lucy – cooed. ‘We all forget things when we’re upset.’ She turned to Paniatowski. ‘We’ve come about a friend of ours who’s disappeared – and yes, before you ask, she’s a prostitute.’
    â€˜We think the Ripper might have got her,’ Marie said, on the verge of hysteria.
    â€˜What ripper?’ Paniatowski said. ‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.’
    â€˜One of the other girls got slashed with a razor a couple of weeks ago,’ Lucy explained. ‘We think the same man might have taken Grace.’
    I don’t have time for this, Paniatowski thought. I really don’t have time.
    â€˜If you’re worried about your friend, you should report it,’ she said aloud.
    â€˜That’s what we’re doing,’ Grace told her.
    â€˜When reporting a suspected crime, there are channels to go through,’ Paniatowski pointed out.
    â€˜You can drown in those channels,’ Lucy said bitterly. ‘It’s happened often enough before. So we either report it to you – or we report it to nobody.’
    Paniatowski hesitated for a second, then said, ‘There’s a café just around the corner. Why don’t we go and have a cup of tea?’
    It was a workman’s café, which meant they got none of the disapproving stares which might have been aimed at them in a more genteel establishment.
    â€˜So, it’s the fact that the one girl was slashed which makes you so worried about the other one, is it?’ Paniatowski asked, when the waitress had deposited mugs of tea on the table and moved on.
    â€˜That’s right,’ Lucy agreed. ‘It’s because of that.’
    â€˜Grace is so young – and so tiny,’ Marie sobbed.
    A lorry driver had been eying them up for some time, and now he ambled over to the table.
    â€˜I wouldn’t normally bother with a woman of your age,’ he said to Paniatowski, ‘but you look like you’ve got a bit of class about you.’
    â€˜Do you think so?’ Paniatowski asked. ‘I’m never sure myself. It’s my nose I worry about. I think it’s a bit too big.’
    The lorry driver leered. ‘It’s not your nose I’ll be most interested in,’ he said. ‘So how much will it cost me?’
    Paniatowski’s brow furrowed with concentration. ‘Hard to say exactly,’ she told him. ‘But I’d guess that it would be somewhere around a hundred and fifty pounds.’
    â€˜A hundred and fifty quid?’ the lorry driver said. ‘For a quick jump in the cab of my lorry?’
    â€˜And then, of course, there’s the fact that your name will be in the papers to be taken into consideration.’
    â€˜I