Lethal Instincts (4 page)

“We don’t give out student information,” she said in a brusque tone.

“I wanted to surprise her, I’ve come all the way from Australia,” Lexi pleaded. “I really was hoping to see her today.”
 

“It’s against campus policy to give out student information,” she said.

Lexi smiled at the woman, thanked her for nothing and turned to walk away.
 

Not wanting the visit to be wasted, she explored the campus and asked students for various departments. Most ignored her until she mentioned she was considering studying at the campus. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find anyone who knew anything about Tatiana Petrenko. She had attended the university, several students and staff mentioned seeing her, but that was all. Tatiana remained a mystery. There was also the possibility that they knew the consequences of believing the fact that one of their own could have gone missing. If it happened to Tatiana, it could happen to anyone.
 

They didn’t want to believe that she had possibly been taken because that would suggest that their safe haven, their city, their campus, was a place where bad things could happen. Ignorance was bliss and so many people chose to live in it.
 

Lexi returned outside just as her phone started buzzing.
 

“We’ve got the info,” Hannah’s voice echoed.

“That was fast.”

“My source doesn’t like to mess around. Do you want to know the interesting part? Tatiana Petrenko had over a hundred thousand pounds in her bank account until yesterday.”
 

“How?”

“I don’t know. Cash was transferred on a regular basis over the past year. Two to three thousand pounds per month, with an initial deposit of fifty thousand.”
 

“Do you know where the money was coming from?”

“No. My guy is still checking that out. But the withdrawals are interesting. Most are fairly ordinary – groceries, a cup of coffee, that sort of thing. But when my guy put in the locations of all the transactions on a map he found that they were all within the same vicinity, in clusters.”

“That’s normal though, most people tend to shop in the same places.”
 

“Yes, but this was different. There were several clusters where she used her card. And they were all within Soho’s red-light district at various times of day and night, I doubt she was going there to check out the art.”
 

Chapter 7

During the day the Soho was like any other suburb. Time had changed it to an artistic scene of poets and musicians over prostitutes and dancers, although the signs that would light up in neon as soon as dusk hit remained. The other crowd, the one that came out at night, hunting, deceiving and seducing for their livelihood, was nowhere to be seen, but that was no surprise for that time of day. It wouldn’t be a stretch to suggest they were sleeping off the previous night’s escapades. Soon they would rise to prepare for yet another long night of business; night after night, day after day. Could Tatiana had gotten involved along the line? It was a never ending cycle that roped you in, took everything from you, only letting go when there was nothing left to take. Lexi had seen it before, the partying stayed the same, just the faces changed with time.
 

“Two for the price of one,” said a woman, dressed in a tight skirt and top that barely covered her cleavage, as Lexi and Hannah passed. Lexi had to glance a second time just to be sure she had seen right. The woman was prancing about as high as a kite during the lunchtime hour.
 

They ignored her call outs and propositions and walked on.

The first place on their list was a small family grocery store.
 

Bells jiggled as the door swung open and they crossed the threshold. The cashier looked at them before returning his attention to the customer emptying out her grocery basket on the counter. Lexi walked down the aisles, stopped at the drinks station and grabbed a bottle of water; in the confectionary aisle she picked up some chewing gum. As soon as the bells above the door chimed again, she made her way to the checkout with her items and the picture of Tatiana Petrenko. She flashed the photos and was only met with a stare of indifference.
 

“Never seen her,” he said, shaking his head.

“Are you sure?”
 

“Yes, I’m sure. We don’t want no trouble.”

“I’m just looking for a girl. She’s my cousin, my aunt is worried. I said I’d help.”
 

“Too many girls get lost here. No family, bad friends. So many young losing their innocence. I want no part. I sent my wife and daughter away. Away from all this dirty business.”

But you remain, Lexi thought, right in the centre of it all.
 

Lexi paid for the water and gum and went back outside where Hannah was waiting with a half-finished cigarette. The other spots on their list hadn’t brought any luck either. No one remembered Tatiana – or chose not to. Sometimes it proved safer to be forgetful, to be ignorant to the truth.
 

The next stop was a cafe, three doors down. Lexi was ready for another coffee. They ordered and took a seat where they had full view of the street and the cafe itself.
 

The place was filled with businessmen lunching as well as women with sunglasses covering their eyes. A lunchtime quickie at an establishment that happily charged by the hour. Whether it was tasteful or not didn’t matter, the supply was there and so demand followed or vice versa depending on where one stood. Lexi watched from afar, observing movements, behaviour, listening in on conversation. Just one of the perks of the job. Most often than not, it wasn’t interesting chatter but it gave her mind time to reassess.
 

“What is the common denominator here?” Lexi asked. “She obviously spent quite some time in the area, day and night. Why? What is here that was of such interest to her?”

“Besides the hookers?” Hannah said.
 

“Besides them.”

“Tatiana was, is, an interesting person. A quiet achiever with a stone cold expression that gave nothing away. There was something dark about her. Something she kept hidden deep inside. I wanted to get to know her as a person, as well as her psychology. My studies deal with the behaviour of victims rather than perpetrators. She would have made an interesting subject,” Hannah said.

“Do you think she was a victim?”
 

“Yes. Definitely. I think she had a difficult upbringing. She excelled academically and removed herself from social interaction which suggested that someone had hurt her in the past. She had trust issues. Her only routine was her study calendar. Something she had no control over. And she always looked like she was searching for something or someone.”

“That’s an interesting observation. There was also the red-light district. Why did she frequent it so regularly?”
 

“Maybe it gave her a sense of security.”

“It sounds like you paid a lot more attention to her than you let on,” Lexi said, wondering what Hannah had omitted to tell her.

Hannah took a sip of her coffee and stared out the window speaking slowly. “She was an unknown subject for my studies.”

“How so?”

“I am writing a thesis on victimology. I needed a real person to make the study more convincing. I reached out to others but most people don’t want to deal with their demons. The ones that did were actors craving attention, and while I don’t want to be a judgmental cow or tell people how to deal with their issues, some really need to grow some balls,” Hannah said.

Lexi smiled at Hannah’s use of terminology. But she agreed completely, she nodded which encouraged Hannah to continue. “Tatiana approached me. I had been watching her for a few days. There was something about her that had grabbed my attention and I was trying to find a way to approach her as a test subject. She beat me to it. I think she was so alert, so aware of her surroundings that she knew exactly what I was doing.”
 

“And what demons did she reveal?” Lexi asked.

“Tatiana came from a world with little sympathy or empathy. She told me about a childhood where there had been days when all they had to eat was a loaf of bread. A drunken father who came and went as he pleased, and a mother who had lost all hope until she died when Tatiana was in school.

“She came from a home where love and violence collided like a truck and a freight train during a tornado. So she studied and dreamed of a better life. She left her father to drink himself to death while she sought a better life.” Hannah said, “or that’s what she had led me to believe.”

“So her demons were a terrible childhood?”

“No. I think she had gotten over that a long time ago. I think there was something else she hadn’t told me. Something she didn’t want me to find out.”
 

“What?”

“Figure that out and we may find out what happened to her.”

“And then she disappeared.”
 

“Yes. I remember the last time I spoke with her. She had looked over my shoulder and the expression on her face remained the same, but her eyes, I could see the fear in her eyes. I turned but saw nothing. After that she said she had to rush off and she’d be in touch. I haven’t seen her since.”

Lexi wondered if Tatiana may have noticed the couple observing her.

“That’s why you believe something happened to her?”
 

“I don’t believe she packed up and left. I also don’t think she came here to get away from her life in Ukraine,” Hannah said. “I think she was looking for someone who didn’t want to be found.”
 

Finishing her coffee and sandwich Lexi took her cup and plate to the counter just as it had cleared from the lunch hour rush. The assistant was a woman who could once upon a time
 
have been in fashion magazines, with her strong jaw line and almond eyes outlined with black eyeliner. Her name tag read Brigita.

“I’m looking for this woman,” Lexi said handing her a picture of Tatiana. Brigita took the picture in her hand and stared at it for a few moments. Her face scrunching up as her mind worked.

“Yes, I see her. Couple times,” she said in an Eastern European accent. “She drink coffee at table your friend sit at.”
 

“When was the last time you saw her?” Lexi asked.

Brigita shrugged. “I do not know. I have many customers here. A few days. Week maybe.”

“Was she ever with anyone else?”

“Nie. Always alone.”
 

“Did she stay long?”

“Minutes. Hours. Long time. She watched through the window all the time. Window and door. Never look away,” Brigita said, then turned her attention to a customer who had just entered.
 

“Wait,” she said. “This girl, one time she was here with someone. An older girl, she looked few years older than her. More wrinkles, more wear and tear, as they say. She looked like the call girls we get in here. Tired, sunken eyes, drugs probably. They argued. The sick-looking girl slapped this girl’s arms away and ran out of the cafe. The other girl followed but returned for her bag looking upset, defeated.”

Lexi thanked her and motioned for Hannah to get up. They were leaving. It was almost certain now that Tatiana wasn’t hiding. She was looking for someone. Maybe she had found them and that’s when she went missing herself.
 

Chapter 8

The English downpour caught her just as she exited the Tube at Camden station. The walk to her flat was only a few hundred metres and by the time she got her umbrella out she was already drenched from head to toe. Throughout the entire walk after she had had left Hannah to head towards the West End, she couldn’t stop thinking about the girl Tatiana had been seen with. A new lead in a story that didn’t make much sense.

On her way down the path to her apartment she passed a homeless man, he was often there. He looked young, maybe in his thirties or forties with a shaggy beard, but always well groomed. From time to time she offered him a sandwich or a piece of fruit for which he always seemed grateful. Occasionally she had even seen some other tenants pay him to sweep outside the unit block for cash and food. Lexi greeted him with a smile and left a sandwich she had bought. He returned her smile and bid her a good day. She wondered if he’d ever be willing to share his story.

An hour later, after freshening up, Lexi poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the reading chair by the window. A good book, a glass of wine and some cheese was the perfect end to a draining day. Tonight she enjoyed the company of The Times, reading up on the latest events. Taxes were on the agenda. The Royal family were attending a charity gala. The stock market was going down because of the latest European terrorist attack. A local hospital was opening a new wing. London thrived.

Once she had caught up with the news, Lexi turned her attention to the latest issue of Marie Claire. The pages were cluttered with ads, just like every other glossy magazine. She flicked through, pausing on the fashion pages. A handbag caught her eye, it would go great with the shoes she’d purchased the other day. She made a note, then moved to one of the feature stories; her byline against it. Just as she was about to start reading there was a knock on the door.

Lexi unfolded her legs, put the glass and magazine down and went to the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone and felt annoyed by the distraction. Looking through the peephole she saw two men standing in the corridor. She didn’t recognise them and she hesitated with her hand on the door handle wondering if they had the wrong flat.

“This is the Metropolitan Police,” one of them said, flashing the badge at the peephole.

The police. What in the world were they doing at her front door?
 

She unlocked it and opened the door ajar, just enough for the security chain to tighten but not enough for anyone to walk through. Although she doubted it’d hold if anyone wanted to kick the door in. Not a reassuring thought, she’d have to get a better lock.