‘Yes, you do.’
‘And it’s sir to you. Your insubordination is wearing thin. I’ve put up with it till now on account of your past record. Dismal to me, but there are others who think you’re special. And as for your staff…’
‘Are you about to launch into a tirade about them?’
‘A critical observation. They’re a tired bunch of individuals, not worthy of feeding.’
‘Sir, you, as a detective superintendent, must realise that derogatory remarks about personnel are an actionable offence. You could be reported for what you’ve just said.’
‘Just you try it, Cook.’
‘I intend to register a formal complaint against you in line with regulations.’
‘I’ll have you out of here in an instant.’
‘Not while the complaint is ongoing, you won’t. You’ll have to give your reasons, and believe me, you’ll not win.’
‘Cook, it’s you or me.’
‘That’s fine by me. Let’s see how you get out of this one.’
‘Do you want to make a comment here about me?’ Caddick said.
‘Not a chance. We’ll wait until the hearing into my complaint comes up.’
‘Is this how you spoke to Goddard?’
‘Detective Chief Superintendent Goddard was a competent man. It wasn’t necessary.’
‘And I’m not?’
‘I’ve nothing more to say. If you have no more to add to our conversation, I’ll wish you goodbye. I’ve got three murders to solve.’
After Caddick had left, red in the face, Larry came into Isaac’s office. ‘You’ve made a cross for yourself to bear. Was it wise?’
‘Probably not.’
***
The Dixey Club did not appreciate a visit from Homicide. It was still early in the evening, a few hours before the entertainment began. Isaac was pleased the lights were on. At the back door of the club, which opened onto an alley, two uniforms had been stationed in case someone wanted to slip out.
‘You can’t come in here,’ the burly man from Isaac and Larry’s previous visit said.
‘DCI Cook. I’ve got a warrant.’
‘We’re clean, nothing to see here.’
‘We’ve got a few questions. Is the manager here?’
‘I’m the manager.’
‘No, you’re not. He’s got an office out the back. We’ll find him.’
Wendy walked through the place, saw the pole in the middle of the stage, walked through a door behind it, found some women in early for the night’s entertainment. ‘Sergeant Wendy Gladstone,’ she said.
‘We’ve done nothing wrong,’ one of the women said. Wendy had seen the photos of the ladies on display outside: beautiful, fresh and young, and one of them of a more youthful Helen. Those preparing themselves were not. They didn’t have much in the way of clothing, although one was dressed as a cowgirl, another as a nurse. The third, Wendy was not sure what she was meant to represent, but it looked weird to her.
‘I’m not saying you have, but I’ve a few questions.’
Wendy could see the women were nervous.
‘I’m not here for you three. If you’ve committed any crime, that’s not my interest. There were a couple of women who worked here some years ago.’
‘I’ve only been here two,’ the youngest of the three said.
‘Maybe you don’t know. How about you?’ Wendy said, looking at one of the girls, although she was well over thirty, probably closer to forty.
‘I’ve been here a while. Who do you want to know about?’
‘One was Daisy. The other one was named …’
‘Helen, that’s who you mean, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. What do you know about them?’
The woman dressed as a cowgirl, straightened herself on her chair. ‘Daisy, she was game for anything.’
‘Explain “game”,’ Wendy said.
‘The men, they get carried away, wanting to do things they’re not meant to.’
‘Such as?’
‘Exposing themselves, grabbing too much of us.’
‘It’s on display,’ Wendy said.
‘So’s the meat at the butchers, but you don’t go prodding it.’
‘Do you object?’
‘Not if they’re paying and it remains light-hearted, but some of the men, well, you know?’
‘I don’t. I’ve not frequented these places.’
The youngest of the three spoke. Wendy realised she was dressed as an astronaut, although not from NASA. ‘Some of them, they think because we strip on the stage, let them take a few liberties, that we’re prostitutes, available to the highest tipper.’
‘Aren’t you?’
‘Sometimes we’ll negotiate a special deal, but we’ll not do it on the stage or in the audience. We’ve some standards.’
‘Daisy?’
‘She was always available. She could have made herself plenty of money, apart from her addiction.’
‘And you three?’
‘I was into drugs a few years back,’ the eldest said. The other two are clean.’
‘So why be here?’
‘Life’s expensive, you know that,’ the youngest said. ‘I can make more here in two days than working all week in a regular job.’
‘So how many days do you work here?’
‘Four, and sometimes a Saturday.’
‘Which means?’
‘The rest of the week is free.’
‘To do what?’
‘There are one or two men.’
‘Escort?’
‘They pay plenty. I’m buying myself a flat, putting myself through university.’
‘Are there beds out back?’
‘Are you here to arrest us?’
‘I’m with Homicide. We deal with murders, not who you screw on the premises.’
‘Sometimes it happens,’ the oldest of the three said.
‘I’m not involved, I’ve got my men to consider. They don’t want the goods damaged,’ the youngest one said.
‘Okay, enough about you three and this place, what about Daisy and Helen?’
‘Daisy, she’d play the men, let them go further than they should. Sometimes, the management wanted her to go easy, but she was a drawcard, the same as Helen.’
‘How?’
‘Daisy, she’s the rough, Helen, she’s the pure. Helen, she’d get the men excited, playing to the crowd, teasing them, pulling back. Once they’ve lined up a likely
