Backlash (35 page)

Kershaw's face collapsed. ‘What are you . . . what do you mean?'

‘She might well have been dying when you put her in that freezer – but I don't think she was quite dead,' Paniatowski said.

TWENTY-FIVE

T
he man standing on the platform at Whitebridge Station had curly hair which flopped over the collar of his old royal air force greatcoat. The coat was open, despite the cold weather, and under it he was wearing a pair of shabby cord trousers, a flowery shirt and a suede waistcoat.

It was almost impossible to work out whether he was an old hippy, a tramp or an eccentric millionaire, Paniatowski thought, but she didn't really care which it was, because she was much more intrigued by the question of why Lucy had asked to meet her here.

The man in the greatcoat noticed her standing there, and made a beeline for her.

‘Are you Monika?' he asked.

‘That's right.'

He held out his hand.

‘I'm Jasper – Lucy's pimp.' He noted her refusal to take his hand, and laughed. ‘I'm not really her pimp. That's just our little joke.'

‘Then what are you?' Paniatowski asked, stony-faced.

‘I'm her supervisor.'

‘And what about her do you supervise?'

Jasper looked puzzled for a moment, then he laughed again, and said, ‘Of course, you don't know. I'm supervising her doctorate.'

A nun, carrying a suitcase, emerged from the waiting room.

‘Ah, here she is now,' Jasper said.

Lucy walked up to them. ‘I'm sorry, Monika, I know I should have warned you,' she said. ‘But really, I couldn't resist seeing the look on your face when you saw me.'

‘So you're a nun,' Paniatowski said. ‘And a virgin?'

‘And a virgin,' the other woman confirmed. ‘I'm Sister Lucia – though you can still call me Lucy.'

‘And you've been doing research on the prostitutes of Whitebridge?'

‘If we don't understand them, how are we ever going to be able to help them?'

‘And now you're leaving?'

Lucy sighed. ‘I have a very liberal mother superior, and an extremely liberal bishop, but even they baulked at the idea of continuing my research when one of my subjects was murdered.' She put down her case and took Paniatowski's hands in hers. ‘That's why I asked you to meet me, Monika. I wanted to thank you for what you did for Grace. There were only four of us who cared anything about her.'

‘I was one, and you were the second, and Marie was the third,' Paniatowski said. ‘Who was the fourth?'

‘God, of course,' Lucy said. ‘He cared – He cared more deeply than we ever could.'

‘You must be very angry about having to abandon your research,' Paniatowski said, changing the subject, as she usually did when God came up.

‘Angry?' Lucy repeated. ‘With whom?'

‘With your bishop and your mother superior.'

‘Of course I'm not angry with them. It is not my place to question their decisions – it is my place to obey.'

The train rattled into the station, and they walked to the edge of the platform.

‘Perhaps one day you will return to your faith,' Lucy said.

‘Perhaps I will,' Paniatowski agreed. ‘But, if I was you, I wouldn't hold my breath while I was waiting.'

Jasper opened the door, and he and Lucy climbed aboard. Then Lucy turned, and pulled down the window.

‘With God's help, I will become a good nun,' she said, ‘but even without His help – and I dare say this only because I know He is all-merciful and all-forgiving – I think I could have been a very successful prostitute.'

Paniatowski grinned. ‘You'd have had them queuing up at the door,' she said. Then the guard blew his whistle and the train pulled away.