Bliss was interested in the area – the Woodston district of Peterborough. Their victim being based in the city gave him additional leverage in respect of keeping the case local. He was storing her contact number in his work phone when he noticed something in her bio.
‘It says there she’s new to the area. If that’s true, I don’t understand how she came to have my business card on her.’
‘Don’t be fooled by that,’ Burton told him, swivelling in her chair to face him. ‘To us that’s a major red flag; it tells me this is not a truly independent advert. Also, there’s a good chance it means this woman was trafficked. They get moved around the country every few months, which is why they are listed as being new to the area. You see an awful lot of those ads on these sites. Also, the ones who say they’ve recently returned to the area throw up the same red flag. It means they’re on a cycle, moving from place to place.’
The information chimed with Bliss’s thoughts so far. Without any further discussion, he dialled the number on the page. It rang five times before voicemail cut in. The outgoing message was impersonal: a generic provider asking the caller to leave their name and number. On the off-chance, Bliss did so.
‘We never found her phone,’ he explained. ‘Somebody might hear it and think I’m a genuine caller.’
Burton shrugged. ‘It’s worth a shot. If you like, I can trawl through this lot to see if I can find a genuinely independent page for her. If you’re thinking of contacting the agency and requesting her details, forget about it. Obtaining her information through legal means will take months, if you get it at all. Depends on who owns and runs the agency.’
‘See if you can find me a local one, will you, please?’
‘There will be one. There always is a local outlet, even for an organised crime operation. They like to have close control over their properties, girls, and clients.’
‘This is where I could be of some genuine use,’ Ashton said. The anger he’d carried into the room with him had dissipated now that a familiar task was at hand. ‘I’ll run a check through our own database as soon as I know who to look for. We might even have this victim in our records somewhere. If I could have one of the images, I’ll send it through to my office and have someone run it by facial recognition.’
Burton agreed to send him the best facial shot, and he gave her his ERSOU e-mail address.
Chandler, who until this point had merely been observing, leaned forward and pointed at the screen. ‘If this girl has been trafficked, we must assume she is being watched closely. I noticed the fake independent page said she does in-house calls only. To me that suggests they don’t trust her enough to meet up with clients in their own homes or at hotels. So why are they okay with putting her out as an escort?’
‘Escort clients are more closely vetted,’ Burton told them. ‘Plus, whatever the girls offer their clients is written off as purely a physical act between two consenting adults, and of no interest to the agency. You can see from her dodgy independent profile that she’s clear about what’s on offer, and with clients simply calling in to make arrangements, the people controlling her want to make sure she doesn’t stray. When these same girls take on truly independent profiles, you can usually spot them because they pixelate their faces and expose more of their bodies.’
Bliss was nodding, taking it all in. ‘If you come across a completely indie page for her, let me know what her mobile number is on there.’
‘Why, what are you thinking?’
‘I reckon the number I have is a corporate one. They monitor her voicemail messages and either make the arrangements themselves or tell her which ones she can and can’t accept. If she has her own profile somewhere, I’m willing to bet it’s her own phone she uses.’
They left Burton to it. Bliss trusted her work ethic enough to know that she wouldn’t take a break away from the job in hand until she had visited every link relating to their victim. Angie was not only a great cop with wonderful instincts; she also cared.
On the way out, Ashton leaned down and said to Chandler, ‘So you’re his bag man, are you? That must be a tough task.’
‘Don’t you mean bag woman?’ Chandler said, smiling sweetly.
Bliss snorted. ‘Bag lady, more like. Complete with a scrap of cardboard to sit on and a smelly dog by her side.’
Chandler gave him one of her looks before turning to Ashton. ‘For your information, I’m nobody’s anything. I’m DS Chandler to you. Penny, if you’re around long enough to be accepted.’
‘And you’d be wise to take note,’ Bliss said, making his way past them. ‘Our Pen has a mighty right hook.’
Ashton straightened to his full height. ‘Oh, I think I can handle one little ’un.’
‘Be it on your own head if you try, old son. I mean it. Many a jaw has foundered on the rocks of DS Chandler’s knuckles.’
The Major Crimes squad room was empty when they got there, so the three huddled together around Chandler’s desk. Bliss had been thinking hard during their walk over, and he was now keen to explore a number of possibilities. ‘That agency Angie came up with rang a bell. I seem to recall EZEscorts being listed as one of Drake’s companies.’
‘Who is this Drake?’ Ashton asked.
‘He’s the local scumbag we arrested for trafficking after we rescued those girls from the transport container. I’m pretty sure that site is one of his, in which case I know where to pay them a visit.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Banged up
