Death's Privilege (21 page)

‘They put wicked thoughts in my head.
Who are they?’

‘Demons? Little green men? The CIA?’ Joel let out a deep chuckle. ‘I think he got a little carried away in his final hours. Looking for someone to blame for his fetishes.’

‘Fetishes? Some of those texts are pretty extreme.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Tame by some people’s standards. This time yesterday, you might have said cavorting around a strip club was bordering on extreme.’

‘Joel. About last night.’

‘Yeah. That wasn’t.’

‘Supposed to happen.’

‘Alcohol. Just had a little …’

‘Too much. We both had a little too much.’

‘Exactly my thoughts on the situation. Let’s just forget it ever happened.’

Joel’s phone beeped and he switched it to silent.

‘Well, I’m glad that’s out in the open.’
Not that it makes this any less awkward.

Sarah read Enderson’s parents’ statement. ‘Well, they were both lonely. Sheila didn’t have many friends either. I spoke to her mother the other day, which was an eye-opening experience. She disapproved of her sexual preferences, something that must have made Sheila’s life incredibly difficult. Her bank records don’t indicate any unusual transactions, unlike Enderson’s. Doesn’t change my mind on the matter.’

‘You thinking they’re linked?’

‘I’m certain. The phone number can’t be written off as a coincidence. Moretti being linked to two bodies in the same week, both murdered and made to look like suicides. You thinking it’s not?’

‘I’m on your side. All we need to do is convince Manford to send the Hargreaves case over to MCT and we’ll be free of them both.’

‘Free of them?’ Sarah wondered why he wanted to palm the jobs off all of a sudden, when just a few days ago he'd wanted to stay on the Enderson investigative team.

‘There’ll be something else coming round the corner. MCT were created for this kind of thing.’

‘I know who you got that idea from. MCT can keep their hands to themselves on this one.’

‘What I mean is, MCT can investigate properly. They’ve got the time, the people, faster turnaround times on forensic submissions. They can do a proper job of it.’

‘I can do a proper job of it, Joel.’

Sarah sat back at her desk and checked her emails. Joel and Hayward had gone out on enquiries. Dales sat at Joel’s computer typing up reports for Sarah’s portfolio.

‘When are those exam results out?’ He stood up as the printer behind Sarah whirred to life.

‘Soon. Couple of weeks or so I think.’
Two weeks, three days and three hours.

‘I’ve nearly finished your midway review. We’ll have you running this place in no time.’

Tower Road’s beat officer had emailed about the reassurance visits:

Hi Sarah,

We door knocked the whole of Tower Road. Most people had no issues, although some mention comings and goings at number 12. Strange vehicles parked outside (by strange, I think they meant regular cars, if you know what I mean) and ‘unsightly types’ making very short visits. Sounds like drug dealing activity. One couple suggest the occupant was ‘on the game.’ This was based on most of the guests being men. I got the general impression people didn’t like the occupants living there.

Need anything else, just let me know.

The next email was from an unknown address. It drew her eye amongst the various newsletters, internal circulars and general chitchat. She clicked. The email expanded to full screen and she saw herself in Joel’s arms by the entrance of The Candy Club. Her heart pounded and fingers shook so much she struggled to control the mouse, scrambling to minimise the screen. She looked around; no one had noticed. She brought it up again and shrunk the window to a little corner before scrolling down.

There were five photos in total. The first one was an embrace; the next four showed them kissing. It looked much worse than she remembered. She looked at the email address:
[email protected].
She ran it through the Intel system. No hits. She ran it through Google. No hits. Alison. Alison must have seen who took them. She brought up the duties system and clicked on Alison’s personal details. The standard warning popped up, informing her the account owner would be notified of the request and asking her to input the reason why she wanted her contact details. ‘Personal reasons’ would have to suffice. She locked her computer and walked into the corridor to call Alison’s mobile.

‘Hello?’ Alison yawned the word out.

‘Alison? It’s Sarah.’

‘Oh. Hi. I’m not at work.’

‘I know, sorry to disturb you at home, but I need to ask you something about last night.’

‘What? What is it? I’m genuinely ill, not just hungover.’

‘It’s nothing to do with that. Did you see anyone taking pictures of us last night?’

‘Pictures? No. You’re not allowed to take pictures in strip clubs. Jeez. Why? Are there pics of us somewhere?’

‘No. No, just wouldn’t want any cropping up anywhere.''

‘Okay. Is there something you’re not telling me?’ Alison sounded suddenly awake and attentive.

‘No. There’s nothing for you to worry about. Just being paranoid, that’s all.’

‘Aaah, I see. After getting off with Joel. Can’t imagine you’d want that coming out. What did he make you for breakfast?’

Why couldn’t the alcohol have erased that one moment?

‘I woke up at home, thank you. It was a silly drunken mistake.’

‘Next to your husband? Nice.’

Sarah didn’t like Alison knowing so much about her and definitely didn’t like her knowing about her little infidelity. Knowing this woman held any kind of power over her made Sarah uncomfortable. The less she had to do with her, the better.

‘Well, that’s all I wanted to know. I’ll let you get back to sleep.’

‘What you did was really shitty, you know.’ Alison snapped. Her flashbacks of the previous night must have been slowly kicking in.

Sarah lowered her voice. ‘It wasn’t deliberate. I hadn’t planned on it.’

‘After all your preaching, you go and jump in. I’d made it clear I was interested. And you’re married too. With kids, not that I should have to remind you.’

Alison pointed out all the things she already knew. Sarah wasn’t proud of her actions, but they certainly hadn’t been premeditated. She wanted to call Alison out, reminding her she wasn’t single herself and that her intentions went far further that just a drunken kiss. Any attempt at rational discussion would have resulted in trading insults and bringing them no closer to reconciliation. Sarah didn’t want to be best friends forever; she just wanted Alison to keep her mouth closed.

‘We’ll talk about this another time.’

‘There’s nothing to talk about.’ Alison hung up.

Sarah walked back to her desk, tapped in her password and brought up the photos again. It hit her. From the angle of the shot, it was possible Alison had taken them. Even if photos were prohibited, a few discreet snaps with a camera phone would have easily gone unnoticed. Without knowing the distance the shot was taken at, and between the bottle of red and her hazy memory, the only way to be certain was to look on The Candy Club cameras.

She forwarded the photos to her personal account and deleted them from the work computer. If she wanted to see what was on those cameras, she’d have to ask a favour of Leilani Hayes, a prospect that twisted her stomach in knots.

Twenty

The Candy Club lost its glamour during the day. Without the pink and blue lights, thumping music and distraction of gyrating flesh, it had a very ordinary feel to it. Two women cleaned the stage, one scrubbing the floor, the other shining the pole. Sarah wondered who’d drawn the short straw for the gents toilets.

‘A drink?’ They stood by the bar. Leilani remained standing and gestured towards a stool.

‘I’m fine. On duty and all that.’ Sarah discreetly looked around the room for cameras, not seeing any. Licensing laws dictated premises like this had working cameras. They were here somewhere.
Of all the legislation I revised, that’s what stuck in my head.

‘Is this something to do with my case,
Detective?
’ Leilani gave her a knowing smile.

Sarah laughed off her little dig. ‘We’ll get to that. It’s about last night. I need to look at your CCTV.’ Sarah looked around the ceiling. ‘If you’ve got any?’

‘Oh, we do. It’s a pretty good system. Not the fuzzy black and white stuff you’re used to viewing, I imagine.’ She leant in and whispered, ‘I have a weakness for
Crimewatch.
’

‘That’s good. Could I have a copy of the main room cameras between midnight and closing? Someone I’ve been after for a while may have been here last night.’ It was flimsy, but she hoped Leilani wouldn’t ask too many questions. Seizing it would have been illegal, as her reasons weren’t related to the prevention or detection of crime, but she didn’t want to seize it. Just to take a look.

‘I’d love to help. I would. But I’m sure you understand, our clients value their privacy. We installed the system to protect the girls and, unless you’ve got a court order or a warrant, I can’t give it to you. I can ask my sister, but I’m pretty certain she’d agree.’ Leilani pulled an awkward smile. ‘Sorry.’

A warrant wasn’t an option. She wasn’t about to walk into Manford’s office and ask him to support a warrant to find out who snapped her and Joel kissing in a strip club. She was in a situation her legal powers couldn’t help with.

‘I don’t have one. You mind if I walk around a little?’

‘Sure...what’s all this about?’ Leilani raised her left eyebrow, giving Sarah a playfully curious look. Sarah found herself on the verge of spilling everything. Telling her she had made a terrible decision from a lonely and jealous place, which had led her to do something stupid, bringing her here, where she was now lying to cover her tracks. Sarah was the police officer, the one supposed to have
ways of making you talk,
yet Leilani made her feel like a sinner needing to confess with the simple raise of eyebrow. She wondered what a woman like that could do to a man whose wife spent a little too much time at the office.

‘I received information suggesting someone I’ve been looking for frequents this place and may have been here last night.’ Sarah gave the entrance area a good look before walking in between the tables and chairs.

‘A tip off? Sounds exciting. What have they done? Oh, you probably can’t tell me, right?’ Leilani followed close behind.

‘I’m afraid not. Confidential information.’

‘On the night you were here? Surely you would have seen them?’

Sarah was conscious of how close Leilani was to her. She felt her watching her every move, every tilt of her head as she tried to glance around the room arousing as little suspicion as possible. ‘It was a busy night. And it’s fair to say I was a little drunk.’

‘Not as drunk as your friend. How was she this morning?’

‘Threw a sickie.’

‘And that big hunk of yours?’

‘Of mine? Hardly.’ Sarah turned around and faced her, unsure what she’d meant by that comment. Unsure if she knew, if she’d seen. Glancing back at the entrance area, Sarah was sure this was approximately the angle the shot was taken, but couldn’t quite tell the distance. A little way off from where she’d first thought.

‘Oh come on. I know I couldn’t resist a guy like that. Is he married?’

Sarah didn’t hear the question.

‘Are you?’

Sarah was guessing at best, but with a long enough zoom lens and the angle of the shot, it was more than possible the photographer had been backstage behind the podium.

‘Cos it really didn’t look like that last night.’

‘Sorry?’

‘Is that why you’re here? Because you got off with Denzel and you don’t want your husband finding out?’

Leilani must have known the minute she received her text. She’d seen them together that night and Sarah was now convinced she knew about, had maybe even taken, the pictures. They’d spent the conversation dancing around the issue. Sarah wanted to nick her right there. Leilani was up to something and between her, Dales and a little creative thinking, they’d find out what while she languished in the cells. Adrenaline caused Sarah’s hands to shake and she became acutely aware of their proximity, Leilani’s body position and the precise location of the cuffs on her kit belt. Whoever this woman was—receptionist, bar staff, domestic violence victim, seductress—she was messing with Sarah’s family. Bringing her in would be easy. The pretty ones never knew how to fight.

‘His name’s Joel.’ The more Sarah wriggled, the tighter she was bound. She didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of mentioning the photos. ‘And, yes. If that went away, that would be good.’

‘I imagine it would. There’s just nothing I can do. I need to get this place in order before my shift tonight. You’re going to have to produce a warrant, or you’re going to have to leave.’

Sarah raised her hands passively and walked towards the door, as Leilani smiled at her. The fiery adrenaline had reduced to a simmering anger bubbling underneath her skin. Leaving was the best thing she could do. Reacting now would only end badly. Caught on camera cheating was relatively minor; caught on camera launching a member of the public over a table was not.

Sarah sat in the car and banged her hands on the steering wheel. She didn’t want to scream or shout, and the desire to rip Leilani’s locks from her scalp had subsided. She hated herself for the position she was in. If she’d only gone home, if she’d listened to her good sense, to Dale’s warning, to every piece of good advice she’d ever been given, she wouldn’t be in this mess.

She questioned everything. Telling Dales there was more to Leilani Hayes than first met the eye was going to hurt. Exactly what would have to remain a secret. She needed help, but the admission of why was still too much for her to come to terms with. That she’d cheated; that she’d liked it. Maybe Alison was right about places like that. If it’d been that easy for her, how easy would it be for her husband? They weren’t a jealous couple, but things had begun to change. When she thought about fidelity, she’d pictured a certain type of woman, the type Mark would be around every day. There was little chance of him running away with someone in the next office or one of their daughters’ teachers. Ordinary women weren’t a threat; ordinary women understood. Leilani Hayes wasn’t an ordinary woman. She was someone who wanted to ruin Sarah’s life and had the tools to do it too. And that scared her.