Bad Moon Rising (#1 - D.I. Paolo Storey Crime Series) by Frances di Plino

Lisa Boxer.”
    They walked to the end of the street, but it had turned into a ghost town. There wasn’t a soul to be seen and not even a curtain twitched in any of the windows of rundown flats above the shops. They turned and headed back towards the car. As they entered the street where the girl had been, a woman stepped out of an alleyway. Bleached hair topped a haggard over made-up face. She was dressed in a red halter neck top nowhere near warm enough for the chilly March afternoon and a black short skirt meant for a woman at least twenty years younger.
    “You police, no?” she asked.
    When Paolo nodded, she ducked back into the alley and signalled for them to follow her.
    “Dave, stay there and keep an eye on the street. Give us a warning if anyone comes.”
    When Paolo entered the alley, the woman had moved behind some garbage bins so she was hidden from the road. Paolo offered her a cigarette. At least that would help to mask the smell of piss and rotten garbage. She took the cigarette with shaking hands. He held his lighter out for her, then lit his own, giving her the chance to speak first.
    “You want know ’bout Lisa?” she asked. “You give money. I tell you what happen. What I see. Need money. You pay?”
    “That depends,” Paolo answered, “on what you have to tell me.” He could see the track marks on her arms. By the way she was shaking, her fix was already overdue. “What’s your name?
    “Alice.”
    Paolo raised his eyebrows. Her accent wasn’t as strong as the child’s, but no way had she been christened Alice.
    “You want to try again?”
    “You no able make my name. Is too hard. Alice good. I be Alice for you.”
    “Okay, Alice, why don’t you go to the local clinic? Get on a rehab programme. I’ll help you, if you like.”
    “No. Need money, not programme. You pay. I tell what I see. No programme.”
    He pulled out his wallet and took out some notes. “Okay, Alice, this had better be good. What can you tell me?”
    She snatched the money and stuffed it in the black bra on show under the halter top. “You know bad man, Maltese? The one she say beat her? He no do it. Lisa, she tell me. She lie to police.”
    “Are you saying Azzopardi didn’t beat her? Why did she say it was him if he hadn’t done it?”
    “You want find out? Ask pimp. He tell you plenty.”
    “Where can I find him?”
    “I no know.”
    “What’s his name?”
    “I no know.”
    “You sure about that? Isn’t he your pimp, too?”
    The woman stayed silent, eyes fixed on the alley opening. She looked ready to make a run for it. Paolo decided to back off a bit. “Okay, I’ll find out myself. What else can you tell me?”
    “The last night she here, I see her, she go with new man. I no see him, but I see car. Big. Dark. Maybe blue, maybe black.”
    “Anything else?”
    She shook her head, but stopped when Paolo took out his wallet again. She hugged her body, tremors coursing through her. He held out another note. “What do you know about the child working this area? She went off with someone in a dark car. Was it the same car that Lisa got into?”
    The woman shook her head, reached out and snatched the money before Paolo could take it back.
    “No, not same car. Bad. I no talk ’bout them.”
    She took off and ran out of the alley, shoving Dave to one side and trying to force her way past him. He grabbed her arm, but released it on a shout from Paolo. As the woman ran, Dave stood looking after her until Paolo joined him back on the street.
    “Why’d you let her go, sir?”
    “Because I don’t think she knows anything else about Lisa’s disappearance. Besides, we can pick her up whenever we need to. Interesting, though. She’s more scared of whoever is running that girl than she is of us.”
     

C HAPTER  S IX
     
    How long had he been praying? Two hours? Three? His knees burned with pain, but he would not stand. He kept his head bowed and whispered words of supplication. He needed the strength