Truth or Dare Read Online Free PDF Page B

laughed. ‘Kill or cure.’
     
    ‘So, Joanne. Tell me about the babies.’
    Joanne’s earlier good humour had dissipated. She now sat sullen, staring at Marina.
    ‘The babies.’ Marina’s voice was gentle but insistent. ‘What did you do with the babies?’
    Joanne gave an exaggerated, moody teenager’s shrug. ‘Just… got rid of them.’
    ‘Why, Joanne? Why did you get rid of them?’
    ‘They were in the way. Stopping me doing what I wanted to do.’
    ‘Meet men.’
    Joanne nodded.
    The case had been all over the media. Joanne Marsh had lived on a remote farm outside Clacton on the Essex coast with only her father for company. She had developed a passion for meeting men through internet sex contact sites, having random, unprotected sex with them. Sometimes in multiples. There was plenty of amateur video footage of her doing so.
    She had been on the social services radar for quite some time, dating back to her childhood where there had been allegations of incest and abuse. Her father and other men, some family, some just friends, using the underage Joanne for sex. The allegations were never proven but Joanne had become a person of interest to them. When she had posted a message on a sex site saying, ‘Got rid of the baby out tonit now whers my MEN?’ they became interested.
    Upon investigation, they discovered Joanne had been made pregnant as a result of one of her meetings. She hadn’t let this deter her enjoyment, playing with various partners until she was full term. As far as they could gather, the baby had been delivered at home, probably by her father, and Joanne had then been out meeting men the same night.
    Anni’s Major Incident Squad had been called in and they had found the corpse of a newborn child buried in a shallow grave just outside the back door of the farmhouse. Suspicions aroused, they had dug up the rest of the land. A further seven tiny corpses had been found.
    Now Joanne was in Finnister awaiting psychiatric assessment.
    ‘So,’ Marina continued, her voice low, her demeanour professional, ‘how did you get rid of the babies? What did you do?’
    Joanne looked around the room, bored once more. ‘Dug a hole, put them in.’
    ‘And that’s it?’
    ‘Closed it up again. Patted it down.’
    ‘And then what?’
    ‘What d’you mean?’
    ‘What did you do then?’
    Another shrug. ‘Went out.’
    Marina nodded. Swallowed down the revulsion she was feeling, tried, once again, to remain professional.
    ‘Can I go now?’
    ‘Go?’ asked Marina. ‘Where?’
    ‘Home.’
    Marina shook her head. ‘Well, Joanne, I think it’s fair to say that, one way or another, you won’t be going home for quite some time.’

8
    P hil stared up at the tower block. Even the bright morning sun and the clear blue sky failed to lift the clouds of despondency and gloom around it. Handsworth was an area of Birmingham notable for its deprivation, poverty and social exclusion. And out of that deprivation rode the usual horsemen: crime, violence, gangs, drugs. Life during wartime.
    ‘Bet the fuckin’ lift’s out of order,’ said Sperring, also looking up.
    ‘Stop complaining,’ said Phil. ‘You need the exercise.’
    Sperring affected not to hear him. ‘Or if it is working, I bet they’ll have used it as a toilet.’
    Phil stared at him. Sperring, reluctantly, acknowledged the gaze. ‘What?’ he said, eyebrows rising in mock-effrontery. ‘Don’t start all that
Guardian
-reader holier-than-thou liberal bullshit. You know what this sort are like. We deal with them every day. We’d be out of a job if it wasn’t for them. Spend our days helping old ladies across the road and getting cats out of trees. That’d be us.’
    Phil kept staring at him.
    Sperring flinched under the gaze. ‘What? You know I’m right.’
    ‘A bit of respect, that’s all. Doesn’t hurt.’
    Sperring shrugged. That would be the only answer Phil would be getting.
    ‘Come on,’ said Phil, walking towards the entrance,