by Zach Abrams
“Blackmail? Soliciting?” Carol's demeanour changed. She no longer conveyed the super-confidence she showed before, instead her shoulders sagged and she stared at the floor in resignation. She slumped back into the chair and sank into the seat then lifted her eyes looking at Sandra beseechingly. “I've done nothing wrong, honest. How can I convince you? What do you want?”
“We want you to tell us everything you know about Stevenson and about these men,” she said pointing to the photographs. “How did you become involved? Who introduced you? And how did it happen?”
“I don't know Stevenson, I've never met him and I've never heard his name mentioned. The guys in the photos were just a bit of fun. Sure they're a lot older and they're successful businessmen. I'm not on the game or anything like that. I was just giving them a good time and having some fun myself. There's no law against that, is there?”
“Not until your relationship is used to extort money out of them.”
“But I didn't do anything.”
“Let's go back to the beginning. I want you to tell me everything that happened in the lead up to you meeting them.”
Carol sat quietly and thought for a moment. “I suppose I've been really stupid. I thought it was all harmless fun, but thinking about it now it couldn't have been, could it? It's a long story.”
“Take your time. We're not in any rush.”
“I'm in my second year doing a Business Studies degree. I really wanted to study music, I play Cello and I sing and I've been told I'm quite good. I wanted to try out for RSAMD, well it's changed its name now but you know where I mean. Daddy said I'd be wasting my time and he wouldn't support me. He said I had good 'Highers' and I should be studying business and maybe become an accountant or something. He said that I could help him run his business and maybe take it over some day. He runs a chain of home improvement stores and it's based in Aberdeen. I didn't want to do it and I thought Mummy would support me but she said nothing. She was born in Spain and her family's culture was to obey what the husband wanted when it came to business. Daddy bribed me and said he'd rent me a flat and give me an allowance so I went along with it because I couldn't have afforded to support myself if I did what I really wanted. Anyway I came to Glasgow and started the course. I was good at it, but I hated what I was doing and I partied hard, just 'cause I could. I was a virgin when I arrived but that didn't last long. I enjoyed sex and although I'd not had any experience before, I made up for lost time. I was game to try anything once at least. A few months ago I was at a party and I got pretty wasted. I met this guy called Gordon and he came back to my flat and stayed the night. We got on really well and met up a few more times. Then one day he said to me that he's involved in a new business and would I be interested in doing some work for them.“
Sandra lifted out her photo of Black and showed it to Carol.
“Yes, that's him. He said they had a number of clients who were lonely old men. Most were wealthy businessmen or professionals who just wanted someone to talk to. He said their business provided an internet chat room so they could help them. They wanted to speak to people who could give them intelligent and stimulating conversation but they wanted people who looked good as well because they sometimes used webcams or sent photos. Gordon told me it could be a good opportunity for me 'cause I'd make a bit of money, but I'd also meet people who could give me career opportunities in the future. At the time I wasn't that interested in working, but the prospect of not being dependant on Daddy really appealed to me so I said I'd give it a try.” As she'd been talking, she seemed to regain her composure and her confidence returned. She was sitting straighter and her voice became stronger telling her story.
“Where did this take place?” Sandra enquired
“To start with it was just a little office in the centre of town. It wasn't much more than a room, and it was quite scabby, no carpet and the paint peeling off the walls. It was above the shops in Gordon Street, funnily enough, just off Union Street. There were a couple of computers and they had mikes and webcams attached but we didn't always use them. There was a big acoustic screen down the middle of the room so that both machines could be used at the same time and Gordon was always there to keep an eye on things. Most of the time we were working late evening or through the night. It was really quite fun. Gordon usually had some vodka or tequila for us to help ourselves to, and a few nights I went back home with Gordon afterwards. After a while we moved to a bigger place in St Vincent Street. It was quite classy, well by comparison anyway. We had separate private areas for making the calls and there must have been eight of them, maybe more because I think there was a basement as well. We had a kitchen and a shower room there too.”
“Did Gordon tell you what to say?”
“Not really, he left it up to me. He sometimes made some suggestions, saucy remarks and the like. He told me some things that he thought would get the guys more interested or excited but it was never an instruction. When I was using the webcam he suggested I showed a lot of cleavage. Pretty obvious, I suppose. He suggested if the opportunity came up I could show my tits as well. There wasn't any formula to it. I was left to do what I wanted. But I knew the happier the guys were the more I got paid. It wasn't like a pricelist or anything. There was no minimum wage either. Gordon just paid me based on what he thought I'd earned and sometimes he gave me a bonus when he said the client was especially happy.”
“Didn't you feel he was using you?” Alex asked
“Not at all, it was all down to me. A girl's got to use her assets.” As Carol said this, she looked pointedly at Warren, staring deeply into his eyes, placed her hands under her breasts, held them firmly and pushed upwards, giving them a slight jiggle. The areoles were clearly visible and the points of her nipples were practically poking through the fabric of her sweater.
It had been a long time since Alex had intimate relations with a woman and despite his feelings of disgust at the girl's behaviour, he imagined he could almost taste her breasts and he felt the first stirrings of arousal. He quickly looked away from her, choosing this time to check the readings on the recorder. He was grateful to be sitting with his legs below the table so neither Sandra or Carol could detect any embarrassing reaction by him. His face was slightly flushed but he wasn't certain whether it was from a hint of excitement or from anger, more at himself for his weakness than at the girl.
“How did it develop from there?” Sandra asked.
“Well, one night, not that long after we moved office, Gordon told me he had the use of a luxury flat down at Partick and asked me if I'd like to spend the night with him. I was game and it was really amazing. The flat was gorgeous, it was one of the ones off South Street. I think it's called Glasgow Harbour. There was a concierge and lifts and everything. It had the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in, not that I did too much sleeping.”
Sandra and Alex had already heard the full details of the flat less than an hour before but they let Carol give her own lavish description as they didn't want to interrupt her flow.
“Anyway, Gordon took me there a couple of times and I really loved it. One time we arrived with a carry-out Chinese and another he actually cooked for me. He was a good cook too and he made pasta with a bolognaise sauce which we washed down with gallons of Chianti.
“A few days after that, he told me that he could swing it for me to use the flat if I ever wanted to meet privately with any of the clients. He said it was only if I wanted to and there was no pressure. I didn't have to do anything I didn't want and the flat itself was really safe. I could just use it to meet the guy or maybe have a meal, it only needed to go further if I wanted and I could stop at any time. He told me that, as with the chat room, there could be more money when a client was happy and that the bonuses could be really high. Gordon knew I enjoyed sex and that I could be quite adventurous. I said I'd give it a try and it worked out. I'd been more used to fucking young guys, around my own age, but being with these older guys was quite fun. It wasn't always the sam
e but they often knew better what a girl wanted. Usually they had more confidence and true they didn't always have the same stamina, but often they'd take more time to make sure I was enjoying myself too. In the flat there were lots of toys and pills and potions which were meant to help the guys stay in the mood. I don't know if they worked, I never tried them very much 'cause I didn't need to.” As Carol was speaking these words, she stared deeply and alluringly into Alex's eyes, fluttering her eyelashes seductively. “I started making lots of money and didn't need to depend on Daddy anymore. I was making lots of useful contacts too. I've been planning to open my own business after I graduate, what with the people I know and the savings I've made, it'll give me a really good start.
“I met with quite a few different clients at different times. There was even one night when we had a group session.”
“We know, we've got the photos,” Sandra replied coldly. “You're quite versatile too, aren't you? Some straight, some oral, some anal, some bondage and sometimes at the same time too, you're really quite a girl.”
Carol looked shocked. “What you mean some bastard was watching and taking photos whenever I was there?”
“The whole place was rigged with webcams. We think it was Gordon Black who organised it as he's an IT specialist. Did you not realise you were being used as a prostitute?”
All the colour drained from Carol's face, “N-n-no! I never thought of it that way, but when you explain it like that, it's so obvious.”
“And you're asking us to believe you didn't know you were being whored out and that you were being filmed so the pictures could be used for blackmail?”
Tears ran down Carol's face. “I didn't know, honest I didn't. What am I going to do?”
“We'll need to see about that,” Sandra replied disdainfully. “We'll see what else our enquiries come up with and then it's up to the procurator fiscal what action he chooses to take. The money you've been saving has been from an illegal source so I wouldn't rely on keeping it if I were you. I can't see your clients being much help to you in setting up a business so it might be an idea if you didn't turn your back on Daddy just yet.”
Tears were now streaming down Carol's cheeks and soaking into her sweater, making the fabric even more transparent than it had been earlier. Alex was experienced enough to tell it wasn't an act and that the girl was just incredibly naïve. Although less sexy, Alex found her vulnerability more appealing and actually felt some sympathy for her.
By contrast, Sandra considered her stupid and weak. “I want details of the addresses of all the premises you used. I want all names and telephone numbers of everyone you met connected with this business. I'm going to run through a lot of the other photos I have and I want a full statement from you telling us everything you know about each and every person in them and whether they're the workers or the punters. Then I want you to tell us about, and give us descriptions of, everyone else you've come across who has anything to do with this business. Then, finally, I want all your bank account details. When we have all of that, and we're satisfied with your answers, then you can go. So you can forget about any plans to meet up with your friends for quite a while.”
Chapter 13
The team meeting convened with Sandra giving a précis of their interview with Carol Sneddon. Sandra finished off with a rant and Alex was amazed at her vehemence.
“Stuck up little madam, the way she looks down on everyone else. She criticised her 'Daddy' and I would too because he's created one real spoilt little bitch. She thinks because she's from a privileged background and she's a university student that everyone else is stupid. She thinks the police are stupid and seems to forget that most of us, here anyway, are graduates too. Not that it makes any difference. There are plenty of students and graduates I know who don't have a shred of common sense and she falls right into that category. She's acted no better than a common whore and she expects us to believe she had no idea what was going on. For God's sake, you just need to look at the photos. Christ, even during the interview she was flaunting herself and I thought at one point she was trying to seduce the Boss. Anyhow, we sorted her out okay. I think we scared the crap out of her.”
“Now come on, Sandra, you don't need to be a whore to be free and open in your attitude to sex, not nowadays,” Donny interrupted.
This struck Sandra as a strange attitude for Donny to take and she wondered if he was just trying to wind her up. She just glared at him in response. She was so tempted to enquire if his wife provided him with all the services they'd seen in the photos but realised she'd have been overstretching the bounds of their professional relationship.
Seeing the tension between them and wanting to avoid further conflict, Alex changed the direction of the conversation. “Well, we have a more precise understanding of Black's role now. He wasn't just the IT man, it looks like he found the students and talked them into whoring and then pimped them out. It looks like he could have been the brains behind the whole thing and Stevenson was the money man. Stevenson will have provided any muscle that was needed and fronted the blackmail as well, but Black's the one who's set everything up. It could be that the internet chat room was a real and profitable business in its own right. It would have been legit too, even if a bit near the edge and he then moved it up a gear to the girls meeting the punters so he could develop the blackmail side. The big money's come when he's creamed that off.”
Morrison howled with laughter, “Wish I'd thought to say that one,” he managed to blurt out in between guffaws of schoolboy-style laughter.
The others joined in seeing Alex's inadvertent play on words.
“What else do we have on Black?” Sanjay enquired
“I've checked him out as best I could,” Morrison replied. “We've confirmed what Findlay told us: he's from Inverness, his family are still there, living in a village just a few miles outside of the town. The local boys have checked, but he's not there. The family claim not to have heard from him for months. They say they had a falling out last Christmas and haven't spoken since. Our lads will keep an eye out in case he turns up. We've had no meaningful response from the press release. The usual batch of cranks and loonies and a few claimed sightings that are being looked into, but none seemed too promising. I've checked his Facebook site and there's been nothing new on it for a week. We're looking at and talking to any friends, but no worthwhile leads so far. Same story on Twitter, we've not heard a tweet.”
Much as they tried to ignore Morrison's humour, the others couldn't help but moan.
“Have you got anywhere with Patrick Kennedy?” Alex refocused on business.
“Sure do,” Morrison replied. “And you're going to like it too. We had his photo sent down from central records and it matched against one of our punters. We've been given permission to interview him although one of their own people wants to sit in. I've arranged for Donny and I to go there first thing tomorrow, assuming that's okay with you?”
“Sure, go ahead. No, wait, we need to get the politics right when we're going cross-border. Kennedy's a sergeant so it wouldn't be good form for us to send two detective constables to interview him. It wouldn't be showing proper respect for their constabulary. I'm not available as I'm due to give evidence in court tomorrow, so I want Sandra to go instead. She's a sergeant as well, but as she's passed all her exams and interviews, she's considered to be an inspector in waiting. I think Donny should go with her and you keep shop here.”
“Don't get too excited about him as a suspect though. He was on duty at the time of Stevenson's murder, although we can't account for him when the Kerrs were done. We'll just have to ask him.”
“Okay, that's good work, now anything new in from Connor?”
“Yes,” Donnie replied. “It's quite interesting too. Our boy's not been quite so careful at the Kerr's scene. The wound in David's neck had minute traces of leather. Taking that together with the size of the knife it fits the type you'd keep in a leather scabbard, maybe a throwing knife or something ornamenta
l like a Ghurka knife or a Sgian-Dubh. There was also a fibre found on the floor, it was black and a hundred percent wool. It didn't match against any clothes or fabrics in the house so there's a fair chance it came off the murderer's jacket or trousers. Also, as mentioned before, there was blood all around the bedroom but none outside, but the new information is they've traced smudge marks on the laminate floor in the hall which are consistent with boot covers, the same kind of thing we use at crime scenes. It sounds like he's gone there prepared.”
“I've seen your reports from the interviews you carried out last night,” Alex said turning to Sanjay." That was good solid work and it couldn't have been easy given the calibre of interviewee."
“There's nothing really to add,” Sanjay stated. “It's just more variations on the same theme. We interviewed two, different P.L.C. directors, and the husband of an investment fund manager, looking for some action while his wife was travelling the world on business. We also traced some businessmen who spend their mid weeks in Scotland and their weekends with their families down south, and I'm planning to meet each of them this evening. One thing you can say for Stevenson, he practiced diversity. He didn't care about race, religion, gender or sexual orientation. He'd go after anyone, as long as they had money or influence.