The Logan Files - Pain Center: The Logan Files

by Marshall Huffman

  “A list?

  “Yeah, a list. You know what a list is don’t you? Names on a paper,” Miles said.

  “We have a record of our members if that’s what you mean.”

  “Right. A list. Mind if we take a look at it?” Miles asked.

  “Yes I do. It’s confidential. I don’t give out any information about my clients. It would be the end of my business. We have some very influential members and it could cause some embarrassment.”

  “We aren’t going to publish it in the paper,” Miles said.

  “Still. Can you tell me what this is about?”

  “You read about the two girls that were murdered?”

  “I heard something on the radio. I don’t pay much attention to that stuff. Someone is always getting killed. The world is full of angry people,” Hanson said.

  “One of the girls had a match cover from The Cave.”

  “Oh, I see. I guess. Are you sure she got it here? Maybe she found it or someone gave it to her.”

  “It was in her belongings with a stack of pictures. Alternative lifestyle pictures, as you would put it,” Miles said.

  “We don’t allow any pictures to be taken here,” Hanson replied.

  “Didn’t say they were taken here.”

  “Okay, so what do you want?”

  “Did you have a member named Donna Landers?” Logan asked.

  “The name doesn’t ring a bell but that isn’t so unusual.”

  “Why is that?”

  “A lot of them use a stage name or alias.”

  “Have you seen her around here?” Logan asked, handing him several pictures of Donna in various poses.

  He looked at each one for several seconds, “It’s hard to say. We get a lot of women in here. In fact about seventy percent of our patrons are female.”

  “No shit?” Miles said.

  “Partly because we don’t encourage single males to become members.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Single males are trouble. It changes the entire complexion of the club. Shackles allows single males.”

  “Shackles?”

  “A place just down the street and a couple of blocks over. A lot more seedy. They let anyone with money in. I don’t operate like that.”

  “More class huh?” Miles said.

  “Hey, I just own the place. I don’t get involved with these people.”

  “Just doing a service,” Miles replied.

  “Something like that.”

  “You mind checking your client list for Donna Landers?”

  “Maybe I should call my attorney,” Hanson said.

  “Why would you need to do that?” Miles asked.

  “I just don’t like the way this is going,” Hanson replied.

  “Mr. Hanson, feel free to call your attorney if it makes you feel better. It is your right and when in doubt, I always advise people to make the call,” Logan said.

  JJ looked at him suspiciously.

  “No, go ahead. We will get a search warrant started and he can go over it with you.”

  “Search warrant?”

  “Sure. She had your match cover and pictures that look like they might have been taken here. She seemed to be into this alternative lifestyle as you call it. It’s enough for us to get a warrant and go through the place.”

  JJ looked at him for several seconds.

  “You just want to know if she was a member, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Logan replied.

  “Alright. Let’s go to my office. I keep everything on the computer.”

  Miles and Logan followed him down the hall to the backroom. JJ pulled up the membership file and started typing.

  “Donna Larson?”

  “Landers,” Logan corrected.

  “Spell it.”

  “L..A..N..D..E..R..S”

  “Yep. Here she is. According to this she isn’t very active. Not a regular. She wasn’t in for five weeks just a while ago. Been here a couple of times this month.”

  Here is her picture,” he said, turning the screen toward Miles and Logan.

  “That’s her. So she was a member. Did you ever talk to her?”

  “I doubt it. I hardly ever talk to the customers. They do their own thing. I provide the booze and stage; they do the rest.”

  “You said something about performances. Was she involved in those?”

  JJ shrugged.

  “Can you remember anything about her?” Miles said, “She is pretty good looking.”

  “We have a lot of hot babes in here. I doubt that she would stand out,” JJ said.

  “Alright Mr. Hanson. Thank you for your time. Here is my card. If you think of anything at all, please call.”

  “Yeah. I’ll do that. Sorry I can’t be of more help.”

  “I’m sure you are,” Miles said in a low voice.

  JJ heard him but decided to let it go. No use starting something now. On their way out Miles stopped at one of the contraptions they use.

  “What is this for?”

  “You bend someone over this padded bar. Strap their hands and feet so they can’t move and then… do whatever you wish.”

  “Like screw them?”

  “Usually it is whipping. Paddling and that kind of thing. The crowd seems to go more for that than just sex. In fact, intercourse seldom takes place.”

  “Where do you find something like this,” Logan asked, looking it over.

  “I made it. A customer made a drawing and I built it in my workshop.”

  “Nice job. No nails. Recessed screws. Good craftsmanship,” Logan commented.

  “Thank you. I spent a lot of time on it. I make all of the devices for the customers. They think up new things all the time.”

  “Well you have a real talent. Every screw is perfectly in line.”

  “I’m handy with tools. Always have been.”

  “Good to have another trade in case this doesn’t work out,” Logan said.

  * * *

  “So what do you think?”

  “He’s a freak. A damn pervert,” Miles said.

  “I’m not so sure. He doesn’t seem to be into the actual scene but something doesn’t smell right.”

  “Yeah, he is a total jerk off. One question though. Why did you tell him to call his attorney?”

  “Well I suspect we were on camera and this way he can’t say he was threatened or coerced.”

  “Pretty slick,” Miles said.

  “Did you see the workmanship on that contraption he made?” Logan asked, pulling out into traffic.

  “Looked okay to me, why?”

  “Precision. No nails, all screws.”

  “So?”

  “Good with a drill.”

  “That’s a bit of a stretch isn’t it? We would have to look at half of the carpenters and wood workers in the city if that is the criteria.”

  “Not really, just the ones that work in alternative lifestyle establishments. Speaking of which, we should visit this Shackles place. Hell, I’ve never even heard of it.”

  “Me either. I know a hell of a lot of bars in this town but I am out of my league with this kind of stuff,” Miles said.

  “He said it was just down the street and a couple of blocks over. I don’t have a clue which way to go,” Logan said.

  “This is gonna’ look bad, cops asking for directions,” Miles lamented.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “I’ll be damned if I see it,” Miles said.

  They had gotten vague directions twice and they still hadn’t found the place. It was their third trip around the block where the place was supposed to be located.

  “Hold it. There, that door. It has a pair of handcuffs painted on it,” Miles said, pointing to a nondescript building.

  “Nice place,” Logan replied.

  They pulled into a small lot across the street that said ‘Parking for Shackles Only.”

  A black Ford Expedition was the only vehicle in the lot. It had twenty-four inch rims that
looked like cheap gold. The trim was all gold plated.

  “Get a load of that ride. No class. Way too much cheap looking crap on that thing. A total pimp mobile.” Miles said.

  “That’s that bling thing they talk about I guess.”

  “Bling is just another word for gaudy,” Miles said.

  They crossed the street and Miles banged on the door. It was opened almost immediately.

  “Hey dumbass, we ain’t open,” a burly man in a leather pants, vest and cap,” said angrily.

  “You are now, moron,” Miles said, thrusting his badge at the man.

  “Aw crap. What do you guys want? Is this about that dumb chick that was in here last night?”

  “Maybe. Why don’t you tell us about it?”

  “Look, she kept asking for it. The guy was just doing what she wanted. I mean, he beat her ass pretty good but she never once said the safe word. I swear.”

  “Safe word?”

  “You know. When the bottom has had all they can take, they have a safe word that lets the top know they have had enough. You know, like a safety valve. She never once said it.”

  “That is extremely interesting but that’s not why we are here.”

  “Crap. What do you want then?”

  “We were in the neighborhood and thought we would see what a nice place you had here,” Miles said, pushing past him. Hanson had said it was seedy but that was being extremely nice. Sordid was a better word. The place smelled of beer, sweat, and dirt.

  “Nice place,” Miles said, looking around.

  “I make a good living.”

  “Your name,” Logan asked.

  “Ken Church.”

  Miles laughed. “Church. How apropos.”

  “Huh?”

  “Never mind. So Ken, do you have a membership list like The Cave?”

  “Membership? If you got fifty bucks in your pocket, you have a membership,” he said, “It ain’t like those idiots at The Cave. Acting like they are better than everyone. How in the hell can you be like that?”

  “Gee I wonder,” Miles replied.

  “Mr. Church,” Logan interrupted, “Do you know a girl by the name of Donna Landers?”

  “Who?”

  “Donna Landers. She may frequent your establishment.”

  “My establishment. I like that. The name don’t mean a thing to me. They never give their names and we don’t ask.”

  “How about your employees? Would they know the customers’ names?”

  “We ain’t a social club. I got a rule about hitting on the customers. They do that and there ass is out of here, pronto.”

  “Who lets them in? You know, collects the money?”

  “Hell, I do. I ain’t letting no jerk-off employee rip me off,” Ken said.

  “I want you to look carefully at these pictures,” Logan said handing several to him, “Do you remember seeing her here?”

  Ken took them and looked at the first one, “Nice butt.”

  “I was talking about her face. Do you recognize it?”

  He looked at each one carefully, “You got any more?”

  “Hey dirtball, the girl is dead. How about a little respect,” Miles said.

  “Yeah, well she is the one prancing around like that. Don’t look like she had any respect for herself, so why should I?” Ken shot back.

  “Easy detective,” Logan said to Miles. To Ken he added, “Have you seen her in here?”

  “Nah. I would remember some chick that looked like that. She ain’t been here,” he said.

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And I’m sure you would tell us, being the fine upstanding citizen you are,” Miles said.

  Church didn’t bother to reply.

  “Would you mind if we looked around?” Logan asked.

  “What for?”

  “He wants to get some tips on better housekeeping,” Miles said.

  “You’re a real comedian. You should give up being a cop and try comedy,” Ken said.

  “Maybe so, but you look like a twink in that outfit, fat boy,” Miles said.

  “Easy, both of you,” Logan said.

  “How about it Mr. Church, mind if we look around?”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass. Look all you want.”

  “Thank you for your cooperation,” Logan replied.

  Ken went to the bar and sat down on one of the stools. Logan and Miles walked around taking the place in.

  “Is that blood?” Miles asked, pointing to a dark spot on the floor by what he surmised was the stage.

  “Mr. Church?” Logan said.

  “It gets a little rough in here sometimes. That’s from the chick’s ass. He broke the skin a couple of times. Like I said, she kept asking for more.”

  Logan and Miles exchanged glances, “What was the girl’s name?”

  “I don’t have a clue. Calls herself Maid Marion or some such damn thing. I don’t know her real name,” he said.

  “Never heard her call herself anything else?” Logan asked.

  “Nah. Most of them use weird names like that.”

  “You let single men in don’t you?”

  “If they got the fifty bucks.”

  “Fifty bucks? Just to get in?” Miles said.

  “They don’t mind.”

  “Damn. What does a beer cost?” he asked.

  “Five bucks.”

  “No kidding? You can get five bucks for one beer?”

  He just shrugged and smiled. Miles shook his head in amazement.

  “Single men?” Logan said, getting back on track.

  “Sure.”

  “Do you ever have any problems with them?”

  “Oh you know, just the usual. Getting drunk and trying to get in on the action without being invited. That kind of crap.”

  “How is that handled?” Logan asked.

  “Ralph.”

  “Ralph is your bouncer?”

  “Yep. Big sucker. Six-nine, two hundred and ninety pounds. No fat either. One tough son of a gun.”

  “So he handles customers that get out of line?”

  “That’s his job.”

  “How often do you have problems?”

  “Not often. He just shows up and they usually calm down. He has that effect on them even if they are drunk,” Ken said.

  “Does he ever get involved with the proceedings?”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Does he participate in what goes on here?”

  Ken laughed, “Heck no. He thinks they are all stupid perverts. He wouldn’t go near them with a ten foot pole except to take care of business.”

  “Where do you get the stage props?”

  “From an online company. They are a rip off but what are you gonna’ do?”

  “You don’t make your own?”

  “No way. I ain’t got time for that crap. Why would I make one when I can just order it online?”

  “You can get that contraption online?” Logan asked, pointing to one of the devices placed just to the side of the small cleared area that was used for the stage.

  “Sure. You can get everything in this place online except Ralph,” he said and roared with laughter.

  He seemed to think that was extremely clever and funny.

  Logan smiled and Miles just shook his head.

  “Are there any other clubs like Shackles in town?”

  “You mean other than The Cave?”

  “Other than The Cave. Anymore?”

  “Not that I know of. I had the only place in town until those guys changed over from a strip joint.”

  “Alright Mr. Church. Thank you for your time. I think we are done here,” he handed him a card, “If you think of anything, please call this number.”

  “Sure. I doubt if I can be any help but I’ll call if I think of anything.”

  “The pictures,” Logan said, holding out his hand.

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot I had them,” he said, taking them out of his back pocket
.

  “I’m so sure,” Miles said.

  “You think you’re a real hardass. Why don’t you come around when Ralph is here? Then you can see how bad you really are,” Ken said.

  “Let’s go. I’m sure Mr. Church has more to do than exchange clever barbs with you,” Logan said, pulling Miles by the arm.

  They said nothing as they walked to the door.

  Ken opened it for them and said, “Logan. You can come back anytime. No charge. Your friend is full price.” He closed the door before Miles could reply.

  “Jackass.”

  “Who? Him or you?”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You can’t go pissing off people like that. We won’t get any help if you do.”

  “That knucklehead wasn’t going to help us.”

  “You’re so sure?”

  “He was a scumbag.”

  “That’s the business we are in. We have to deal with those people every day. You think you have all the answers but you don’t. I don’t. None of us does. You want to work with me you do it my way. If not, you can start working with Carson or Harold. I don’t have time to baby-sit while you have your battles of wit with morons like him.”

  “I’ve done pretty good so far. You read my file. You wouldn’t have taken me in on this taskforce if you had any questions about my ability.”

  “I’m not questioning your ability. Our method is the big question mark. Yes, I read your file. What was there and what wasn’t.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I’ve read hundreds of jackets. I can read between the lines. Your work is good, exemplary even, but you can’t get along with others. You piss people off, including your superiors.”

  “That’s bull.”

  “Is it? How many people did you get along with at your last post?”

  “I don’t know. Some of them.”

  “Damn few. Am I right?”

  Miles just looked out the window, chewing on his lower lip.

  “There is more to being a cop than being tenacious. You have to read people, not only what they say but how they react when you ask them a question.”

  “So I have to be a mind reader too,” Miles asked sullenly.

  Sure, in a way. Take Hanson for instance. He flat lied about knowing Donna. I knew it the minute he answered. Church had never seen her before. He would have liked to but he hadn’t.”

  “And you know that for sure?”

  “Pretty much. Hanson dropped his eyes and looked to the left. He was lying. Church just looked at me. He had never seen her before.”