acute.
The girl heard the tone of command in Vida's voice, and went off obediently to fetch Nellie. She did not invite them in, but left them standing in the freezing alley. Vida took the invitation as given and pushed the door open. Monk followed.
Inside was cold also, but mercifully out of the wind and now thickening snow. The walls were damp in the corridor, and smelled of mould, and from the pervading odour of excrement; the midden was not far away, and probably overflowing. Vida pushed on the second door, and it swung open into a room with a good-sized bed in it, rumpled and obviously lately used, but relatively clean, and with several blankets and quilts on it. Monk presumed it was a place of business as well as rest.
There was a young woman standing in the farther corner, waiting for them. Her face was marred by yellowing bruises and a severely cut brow, the scar of which was still healing and would never knit evenly.
Monk needed no other evidence to tell him the woman had been badly beaten. He could not imagine an accident likely to cause such harm.
"You tell this geezer 'ere wot 'appened toyer, Nellie," Vida ordered.
"E's a rozzer," Nellie said incredulously, looking at Monk with intense dislike.
"No 'e in't," Vida contradicted. "E used ter be. They threw 'im out.
Now 'e works fer 'ooever pays him. An' terday, we do. "E's goin' ter find 'oo's beatin the 'ell out o' the girls round 'ere, so we can put an end ter it."
"Oh yeah?" Nellie said derisively. "An' owe gonna do that, eh? Wy should 'e care?"
"E probably don't care," Vida said sharply, impatient with Nellie's stupidity. "But 'e 'aster eat, same as the rest of us. "E'll do wot 'e's paid ter do. Wot we do with the bastard after 'e's foundim in't 'is business."
Nellie still hesitated.
"Look, Nellie." Vida was fast losing her temper. "You may be one o' them daft bitches wot likes bein' beaten ter 'ell and back, Gawd knows!" She put her hands on her ample hips. "But do yer like bein' too scared to go out in the streets ter earn yerself a little extra, eh? Yer wanna live on wot yer get stitchin' shirts, do yer? That's enough for yer, is it?"
Grudgingly, Nellie saw the point. She turned to Monk, her face puckered with dislike.
"Tell me what happened, and where," Monk instructed her. "Start by telling me where you were, and what time it was, or as near as you know."
"It were three weeks ago, but a day," she answered, sucking her broken tooth. "A Tuesday night. I were in Fetter Lane. I'd just said goodbye tera gentoo walked north again. I turned back ter come 'ome, an' I saw another gent, dressed in a good coat, 'cavy, an' wifa tall 'at on. "E looked like money, an' 'e were 'angin' around like 'e wanted someone. So I went up ter 'im an' spoke nice. Thinkin' like 'e might fancy me." She stopped, waiting for Monk's reaction.
"And did he?" he asked.
"Yeah. "E said 'e did. Only well 'e started, although I were willin', e' gets real rough an' starts knockin' me around. Afore I can let out a yell, there's another geezer there an' all. An' 'e lights in terme She touched her eye gingerly. "It me, 'e did. "It me real 'and. Bloody near knocked me out. Then 'e an' the first geezer 'olds me an' took me, one after the other. Then one o' them, by now I dunno which one, me 'ead's fair singin' an' I'm 'alf senseless wi' pain, 'e 'its me again an' knocks me teef aht. Laughin', they is, like madmen.
I tell yer, I were scared sick."
Looking at her face it was only too easy to believe. She was white at the memory.
"Can you tell me anything about them?" Monk asked. "Anything at all, a smell, a voice, a feel of cloth?"
"Wot?"
"Smell," he repeated. "Can you remember any smell? They were close to you."
"Like wot?" She looked puzzled.
"Anything. Think!" He tried not to sound sharp with her. Was she being intentionally stupid? "Men work in different places," he prompted. "Some with horses, some with leather, some with fish or wool or bales of hemp. Did you smell salt? Sweat? Whisky?"
She was silent.
"Well?" Vida snapped. "Think back! Wot's the matter with yer? Don't yer want these bastards found?"
"Yeah! I'm thinkin'," Nellie protested. "They didn't neither o' them smell o' none o' them things. One o' them