Donna Joy Usher - Chanel 01 - Cocoa and Chanel

by Donna Joy Usher

I contemplated my week while I painted my toes the same colour as Cocoa’s (if you can’t beat ‘em join ‘em). Sure there had been some shitty stuff that had happened but it was easily overshadowed by my new friends and apartment. Tomorrow I would move and then on Monday I would tease the location of the other murder scenes out of Roger.

  I rang Mum and filled her in on my week, leaving out the grisly details of the body we had found and the fact that I was going to try to single-handedly track down a dangerous serial killer, and then I went to bed.

  ***

  The one day I really wanted to see Roger and he still hadn’t shown up for work. All right, so I really wanted to see him every day, but today was different. Today it wasn’t about my Guinness Book of Records’ sized crush.

  Because I was doing the early night shift there were only a few hours that we overlapped, and that time was ticking away. I was kept busy with a stream of visitors coming through the front door: people bailing out friends or relatives, officers bringing in suspects for interviews and building contractors. One of the rooms had sustained some rain damage a few months ago and it was only now being fixed.

  When he finally did show it was with a woman in handcuffs. Her attire indicated she was one of the working girls; bright red tight spandex skirt and boob tube top. It was a brave clothing choice given her bootaliscious butt and impressive chest.

  ‘Hey girlfriend,’ she said to me as he dragged her through the front doors. She didn’t seem at all concerned about her predicament.

  ‘Bianca,’ Roger said, ‘can I trust you to stay here or do I have to lock you up?’

  ‘You can trust me,’ she said, shooting him a cheeky grin. Her large teeth shone white against the glowing ebony of her skin. I found myself responding to her cheery disposition. It was either that or the fact that Roger was in the same room with me.

  As soon as Roger left, Bianca bolted for the front door. I vaulted over the counter, a feat that surprised me as much as it did her, and landed in front of the doors. It seemed all the obstacle course training had paid off.

  ‘Don’t even think about it,’ I said.

  ‘Damn girl, you like a superwoman or something?’

  I shook my head at her and pointed to the chairs on the other side of the room.

  ‘You been exposed to some serious radiation shit?’

  ‘No,’ I said, laughing as I made my way back round to the other side of the table.

  ‘You’re like a ninja, right? I bet you could kick my big black arse all over this city.’

  ‘Who could kick your arse?’ Roger asked.

  ‘Your girl there. She’s scary.’

  ‘Chanel? Yes, she is scary.’ He shot me a grin that threatened to stop my heart.

  I took a deep breath and tried to get a grip on my emotions. I wasn’t going to look so tough if I started hyperventilating just because he’d smiled at me.

  It wasn’t so much that he’d smiled. It was the way he’d smiled, and I don’t want to bore you, but it was cheeky and endearing and there had been a light in his eyes when he’d said my name. I’d had to stop myself vaulting the table again so I could wrap myself around him and shove my tongue down his throat.

  I tore my eyes away and focused on the stupid manual I was only part of the way through, while I tried to think of a way to swing the conversation the way I wanted it to go. I couldn’t do it with Bianca in the room though so I was going to have to wait for him to finish with her.

  As Bianca followed him into the interview room something tickled at the back of my mind. I ignored it, knowing if I tried to identify what it was it would slip further from my conscious mind. Eventually it surfaced, floating up to bob amongst my other thoughts.

  Hadn’t Bruce said that one of the working girls they were friends with was a Bianca? I wondered if it was the same one. I tried to suppress my excitement but by the time Roger had finished with his interview I was almost hopping from foot to foot.

  ‘What are you in for?’ I asked her, smiling in my friendliest manner.

  ‘I had some Buddha on me.’

  ‘Buddha?’

  ‘Some Maryjane?’

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  ‘Some gangster? Locoweed? Ganja? A reefer?’

  I shook my head as I stared at her and wondered what the hell she was on about.

  ‘Some grass.’

  ‘Oh marijuana,’ I said.

  ‘You’re as white as your skin. No wonder you a cop.’

  ‘I’ve tried it,’ I said before I remembered where I was. I shot a nervous look over my shoulder. ‘Once,’ I whispered.

  She chuckled and shook her head.

  ‘Are you a friend of Bruce’s?’ I said.

  ‘Dazzle Bruce?’

  ‘Yep that one.’

  ‘He’s the bomb,’ she said. ‘He don’t care what the colour of your skin is or what you do for dough.’

  Roger appeared at the front office door and I stopped my line of questioning.

  ‘You still here?’ he said to Bianca over the counter.

  ‘I’m just chatting to your super girl. She’s a blast. But I’m going now.’

  Roger came into the front office as she pushed out through the front door and sashayed her way up the steps, an impressive amount of thigh hanging out the bottom of her skirt.

  ‘So Roger,’ I said, turning to face him. I hadn’t realised how close he was standing and I found myself staring up into his blistering blue eyes. I immediately lost my train of thought.

  ‘Yes Chanel,’ he said, smiling down at me.

  I’d spent hours fantasising about being this close to him and now that it was happening I hadn’t the faintest idea what to do. ‘I was thinking,’ I said, stalling for time as I tried to remember what the hell I had been thinking.

  ‘So have I,’ he said.

  Dear God . My heart was racing, my palms were sweating and my knees were trembling.

  ‘You go first,’ I said, hoping he was thinking what I was thinking.

  ‘I was wondering if I could have my foot back?’

  I looked down to see that one of my feet was squishing the toe of his boot.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said, jumping away from him.

  I heard someone clearing their throat from behind me. It was Bianca.

  ‘I think I left my sunglasses in that room,’ she said to Roger.

  After he had left to look for them she said to me, ‘Dang girl, you work fast. I sure am sorry about my timing.’

  ‘Not at all,’ I said, ‘we were discussing a case.’

  ‘Uhuh. I’m sure you were. He’s a fine package. I wouldn’t mind discussing his case.’

  ‘Shhh,’ I said, as Bob and Nathan came down the stairs.

  ‘Yes sirree, the way his ass moves in those uniform pants, well it’s enough to make a girl lie down and beg.’

  ‘Shut up,’ I hissed under my breath as they passed the counter, heading for the back offices.

  Roger returned with a pair of red sunglasses which he handed to Bianca. ‘Thank you kind sir,’ she purred. ‘Might see you later at Dazzle,’ she said and then she winked and left the building.

  ‘Dazzle?’ Roger asked.

  ‘Hmmm? I have no idea what she’s talking about.’

  ‘You wanted to ask me something?’

  ‘Actually,’ I said, moving to the other side of the office. I was working on the principle that if I kept enough space between us my brain might still work. ‘I’ve been thinking about that woman we found.’

  ‘What about her?’

  ‘Well I was thinking about all of them,’ I said. ‘Were they all killed in the same alley?’ Oh yeah, nice work Chanel. That sure was a subtle and tricky line of questioning. There was no way he would see where that was going.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘If they were we could post a guard on it, or put security cameras in to catch the bastard.’ I was surprised by the vehemence in his voice. ‘Why do you ask?’ he said, staring into my eyes again.

  ‘I was…
ummm…just interested.’ Christ when he gazed at me like that I felt like a space ship caught in a tractor beam.

  ‘Why don’t you check out the case board?’ he said.

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘The case board for the Cross serial killer – it’s out the back.’

  ‘Right,’ I said, ‘case board.’

  At the end of my shift I went out to the back office to get my handbag and found the case board. It was behind Roger’s desk, so I was surprised I hadn’t noticed it before. I had spent an inordinate amount of time staring at his desk when I had been out the back. But then I had been staring at him, not his surroundings.

  There was a map of King’s Cross with pins marking the sites the bodies had been found. I jotted them down into my notebook while also looking nervously over my shoulder, and then I bolted out into the night.

  ***

  The next morning I packed some ziplock plastic bags in my handbag and headed down the apartment building stairs going over my plan in my head. I was going to go to the lane in which we found Leticia first. Her name had been listed on the case board and it was nice to finally have a name for her. I had felt disrespectful thinking of her as ‘that woman’ or ‘the body’.

  I had just reached the ground floor when I remembered I had forgotten to pack rubber gloves. Sighing, I turned to start the trek back upstairs and ran into a tall man wearing a brown suit.

  ‘Sorry,’ I said. What sort of policewoman was I? I hadn’t even heard anyone behind me.

  ‘That’s okay Chanel,’ he said in a monotone voice.

  I peered up at him. ‘Do I know you?’ I asked. He looked vaguely familiar.

  ‘Yes,’ he said in that same dead tone.

  I stared at him for a while, trying to work out where I’d met him.

  He sighed and then gestured at himself. ‘I’m Marty,’ he said. When I didn’t say anything he sighed again and in a very familiar voice said, ‘Chanel, it’s Martine.’

  ‘Jesus,’ I said, jumping backwards. The face was the same, but that is where the similarities ended. Where Martine was vital and alive, Marty seemed dead. He appeared miserable in his boring suit and plain shoes.

  ‘You’re bald?’ I said.

  ‘I shave. It’s easier with the wigs.’

  ‘So you’re a …..’ I was going to say man, but that was obvious and didn’t really sum it up.

  ‘An accountant.’

  ‘Not quite what I meant,’ I said.

  ‘Oh… I’m a drag queen.’

  I stared at him for a while, trying to correlate this person with my Martine. I couldn’t do it. ‘So Ronnie?’

  ‘Yes he is too.’

  ‘And Bernadette?’

  ‘We all are. I’m surprised you didn’t work it out before.’

  ‘I’m from Hickery,’ I said, as if that could explain how naïve I was.

  We stood and stared at each other for a few more seconds and then I said, ‘I’ve got to get some rubber gloves.’

  ‘Oh looking for evidence?’ It was hard to tell if he was interested when he said it in that dull voice.

  ‘Ahuh. Maybe I’ll come by and see you after work tonight?’

  ‘That would be nice,’ he said.

  I moved to the side so he could get past me and watched him shuffle up the street. It was unbelievable to think that that sad man, who appeared barely able to put one foot in front of the other, could dance the Cancan in five inch heels.

  ***

  The lane had been scary when I had followed Roger that day; by myself it was terrifying. My mind played tricks on me, visualising shapes in the shadows, imagining the killer stalking behind me. By the time I got to the end I was exhausted with fear. I took a few moments to steady myself, deep breathing as I fought the urge to run back down the alley. But then I remembered Leticia, and I started to search.

  I had no idea what I was looking for. I was just hoping the investigators had missed something that I wouldn’t. I mean it really was a long shot, but it was the only shot I had.

  Her blood was still visible in the dirt of the alley; a blackened stain of pain and misery. I stared at it and tried to imagine what it would have felt like to have my life leaking out of me, to know I was going to die.

  And that was when I saw it. A cigarette butt ground into the dirt so it was barely visible.

  I put on a rubber glove and picked up the butt, holding it up for inspection. It didn’t look like a normal cigarette butt: the colour was almost black. I placed it in a plastic bag and tucked it into my pocket. Another few minutes revealed nothing else unusual. There was some rubbish lying around, a few cans and an old newspaper, but I doubted very much that he had stopped to eat a can of spaghetti or read the newspaper after he had killed her. But have a cigarette? Well that I could imagine.

  I debated showing it to Roger, but decided against it. Firstly, I had no proof it was the killer’s; I needed to look at the other sites first, and secondly I had already had a formal warning. If word got back to Ramy that I had become a solo investigator I would probably spend the rest of my life manning the front desk – that was if I didn’t get kicked off the Force first.

  The second site wasn’t as creepy. The alley was shorter and not so dark, but it was in a more secluded area of the Cross. I scoured the area, but found nothing. By the time I had found nothing at the next three locations I was starting to feel pretty stupid.

  I mean what did I think I was doing? It wasn’t like I had known the women who had been killed.

  But then Leticia’s bloody face flashed into my mind.

  That could have been my Mum. Hell, it could have been me. It was only luck that separated that woman’s fate from all the other women living in this area. While the killer walked free we were playing Russian roulette every time we left home. And I didn’t want to live in a world where our hold on life was so tentative and do nothing about it.

  I spent more time at the last site, not wanting to give up without finding my matching clue. I was pretty certain I was in the right spot; the case board had had photos of the bodies and the surrounding area. But even after I had moved all the rubbish out of the way, bits of paper that might have blown in over the site, I didn’t find it.

  I was feeling pretty despondent having just wasted my morning off on an ego-fuelled goose chase. Pulling the plastic bag out of my pocket I walked over to a dumpster and started to lift the lid. I froze. Resting on the very edge of the lid was a perfectly matched butt.

  My excitement threatening to overflow, I placed it carefully in a second bag and marked the location on the plastic, and then I went back to the other sites. Before I had been looking at the ground, now I was looking everywhere. And I found them. Strategically placed behind a down pipe, under a bin, on top of an awning; there was a butt at each of the locations a body had been found.

  Perhaps it was a common brand of cigarette, but if that was the case why was there only one at each site? There was a good chance there was some saliva on them, which meant DNA. But what if it was somebody without a prior conviction?

  I thought about it all that night at work, while also wrangling with the desire to share my find with Roger. But the fear of getting dragged into Ramy’s office won over that desire to share and I decided to keep it to myself until I had some more concrete proof.

  ***

  I knocked off work at three in the morning and decided to drop into Dazzle. I still hadn’t recovered from my shock of meeting Marty and had decided the best way to deal with it was to imagine that Martine and Marty were two different people.

  Martine sat with Bruce and Ronnie and a couple of the other girls around a table. Bruce had some paper and a pen and was taking notes.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I asked.

  ‘We’re planning a new routine.’

  Martine waved at me from the other side of the table. She looked nervous and I felt bad for making her feel that way.

  ‘Why don’t you have a seat at the bar? We’re finished for t
onight,’ Bruce said. ‘We’ve just been arguing about whether or not to hire a choreographer, but we can’t afford it.’

  ‘Why do you need one? Your other routines look great,’ I said, pulling out a barstool.

  ‘Yes, but we stole them from movies,’ Martine said. She pulled a chair out next to me. ‘So how did you go today?’

  I looked over my shoulder to see if anyone was listening. ‘Good,’ I said once I’d made sure no-one could overhear us.

  I told her of my find and my indecision over what to do with it.

  ‘Why don’t you take them to the tobacconist on Fleming St and see what brand they are?’ she suggested. ‘If they are as unusual as you think, there might be a limited number of users in the area.’

  I could have leapt out of my chair and kissed her, and I was considering doing it when I heard a familiar voice. ‘Hey super girl, you didn’t tell me you knew Martine.’

  Bianca was wearing a bright orange, lycra dress, which stretched heroically over her curves and revealed an ample amount of cleavage.

  ‘She’s my best friend in Sydney,’ I said.

  ‘What about me?’ Bruce said as he wiggled out from under the bar.

  ‘You’re my best dog walking friend,’ I said.

  He laughed and then air kissed Bianca. ‘What brings you here gorgeous?’

  ‘I’m looking for Rosie and Lizette. Have you seen them?’

  ‘Not for a few days,’ he said.

  Bianca sighed and frowned; the expression didn’t look right on her.

  ‘I wouldn’t worry honey,’ Martine said, ‘you know they’ll show up eventually.’

  ‘Yeah you’re right,’ Bianca said. ‘But I worry about them when they go on a drug binge.’

  ‘Do you think that’s what they’re doing?’ I asked.

  ‘Not seeing as how you’re a big tough policewoman,’ she said. ‘Those girls are as clean as fresh snow. No drugs have ever entered their pure little bodies.’

  I laughed and held my hands out. ‘I’m off duty,’ I said. Besides, it wasn’t the users I was interested in, it was the dealers.

  ‘They’ll probably be back tomorrow,’ Bruce said.