Ripped (30 page)

'I
thought
there
were
more,'
Standers
said
with
a
touch
of
disappointment
or
what
might
have
been
suspicion.
'All
whores,
weren't
they?'

Before
Shanks
could
answer,
there
was
a
tap
on
the
door.
To
his
surprise,
Standers
got
up
and
went
to
it
instead
of
calling
on
whoever
was
there
to
come
in.
He
stood
in
the
open
doorway
and
spoke
quietly.
'I
didn't
realise
.
..
I'll
cover
that
.
..
Phone
them!'
That
last
phrase
came
more
distinctly
with
an
edge
to
it,
but
then
his
voice
fell
to
a
murmur
again.
When
he
was
finished,
he
closed
the
door
once
more
and
coming
back
to
his
scat
behind
the
desk,
said
again,
'All
whores.'

'That's
right.'

The
Superintendent
studied
him
for
a
moment.
'I
can't
give
you
much
longer.'

'I
didn't
want
to
take
up
your
time,'
Billy
Shanks
said
blankly.
A
loose
agitation
passed
through
his
long
frame
as
if
sketching
an
intention
to
rise.

'We've
got
the
other
half
of
the
package
on
this
one,'
Standers
went
on
as
if
following
a
line
of
thought
uninterrupted.
'Not
the
whore.
The
customer.'

Despite
himself,
Billy
felt
a
renewal
of
interest.
His
quick
mind
pulled
an
idea
from
the
air.
'You
mean
it
might
be
someone
who
had
it
in
not
for
the
prostitutes
but
for
their
clients?'
He
saw
it
all
at
once
like
a
pattern
shaken
into
place.
'A
woman
who
hated
what
men
did
to
women,
the
way
men
exploit
them.'
He
laughed
out
of
pleasure
at
its
neatness.
'A
twentieth-century
crime
just
as
the
Ripper's
belonged
so
well
to
the
nineteenth.
Women's
lib
instead
of
Victorian
exploitation
and
hypocrisy
.
'

Standers
stared
at
him.
'A
woman?
No
way
a
woman
could
have
killed
him.
Oh,
he
was
with
a
woman
all
right –
I'd
bet
on
that.
But
it
was
the
pimp
that
killed
him.'

Billy
Shank
deflated.
'The
pimp..
.
'

'Stands
to
reason.
A
quarrel
about
money
,
oh,
a
nutter
as
well.
I'm
not
saying
he
wouldn't
be
a
nutter –
those
cuts
on
the
body
are
a
bit
,
funny.
I'm
going
to
put
the
squeeze
on
everybody
on
the
game
in
Moirhill.
Somebody'll
talk
for
peace
and
quiet.'

'They're
not
great
talkers.'

'Too
much
pressure
is
bad
for
business.
Somebody'll
drop
a
whisper.'

'Unless,'
Shanks
muttered
out
of
his
concealed
irritation,
'the killer
frightens
them
more
than
you
do.'
'You
wouldn't
care
to
give
me
a
name?'

'There
are
some
frighteners
round
here,'
Shanks
said
uncomfortably.
'You'd
know
them
better
than
me.'

'I'm
always
willing
to
listen.
I
haven't
been
on
this
patch
long,'
Standers
said
complacently,
'but
I
listen.
I'll
give
you
a
name.
I
keep
hearing
about
a
man
called
Kujavia  – '

Shanks'
two
long
arms
flew
up
of
their
own
volition,
wig
-
wagging
distress.
'Not
from
me.
You
haven't
heard
of
him
from
me.'

'He
frightens
you,'
Standers
said
with
satisfaction.
'I've
heard
he's
good
at
that.
It's
his
speciality.
Only
he
overdoes
it.
I've
been
told
that.
Once
particularly
–
he
overdid
it
and
killed
a
woman.
Only
a
brass –
but
he
got
away
with
it
and
that's
...
' He
made
a
face.
It
was
plain
they
handled
things
better
in
the
country.

To
Billy
Shanks
it
seemed
that
the
Superintendent,
who
was new
to
the
city,
was
too
fond
of
the
sound
of his
own
voice.
To
get
away
from
the
subject
of Kujavia
rather
than
because
he
cared,
he
wondered
aloud,
'Will
frightening
the
girls
work?
I
seem
to
remember
that
when
Peter
Sutcliffe
was
murdering
one
a
month
round
Yorkshire,
the
red
-light
districts
in
Leeds
and
Bradford
and
the
rest
were
still
in
business.
The
girls
worked
in
the
afternoon
or
out
of
the
clubs
at
night.
Most
of
them
have
some
bread-and-butter
regulars
they
can
count
on.'

'It
worked
in
the
Robertson
case,'
Standers
said.
'This
place was
swarming
with
so
many
policemen
somebody
talked.
It
was
bad
for
trade.' 'That
was
the
big
one.
By
the
time
it
finished,
men
were
being transferred
in
from
all
over
the
Region
.
..'