Flawed Beauty

by Ernesto Lee

  The striking young woman behind the reception desk is in her mid to late twenties. Her long blonde hair is perfectly styled and her make-up is flawless. She smiles and invites the two police officers to take a seat, “Mr. Bannister won’t keep you long. He’s just finishing with a client.”

  While Tony takes a seat, Erin approaches the reception desk and offers her warrant card. “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Erin Blake. What’s your name, please?”

  “It’s Danica. Danica Shevchenko,” the young woman nervously replies.

  “There’s no need to be nervous,” Erin says softly. “This is just routine. How old are you, Danica, and where are you from?”

  “I’m, um. I’m twenty-seven,” she replies.

  “And you’re Polish or Russian?” Erin guesses.

  Sensing some hesitation, Erin seeks to reassure her. “Danica, I’m not from Customs and Immigration. I’m a police officer and I have no interest in what your immigration status is. Do you understand me?”

  The young woman nods and then quietly says, “I’m Ukrainian. I’m from Odessa.”

  Erin smiles and makes a short entry in her pocketbook. “Thank you, Danica. And how long have you been working with Mr. Bannister?”

  The receptionist carefully ponders the question and then says, “A little over three years, I think.”

  “Just on the reception?”

  “No, I also help prepare the studio and I do the hair and make-up when it’s needed.”

  “Really?” Erin says. “You look like you could have been a model yourself. You’re a very beautiful young woman.”

  The compliment causes Danica to laugh uncomfortably and blush slightly. Hoping to keep her talking, Erin quickly changes the subject. “What’s it like to work for Mr. Bannister? You must have seen a lot of interesting things in your time working here?”

  “It’s, um, very nice. Mr. Bannister is very ki—”

  Her reply is interrupted by a door suddenly opening to the side of the reception desk. A pretty young girl no older than eighteen or nineteen with a petite figure and short dark hair passes the waiting area and continues into the corridor without making eye contact or acknowledging Danica or the police officers. A moment later, the man himself appears and flashes Erin an obviously fake Hollywood smile.

  “I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I was busy with a client. How can I help you today?”

  Bannister is around six feet tall, and although he is well into his late fifties, it’s clear to Erin that his look has been constructed to mask his true age in a forlorn attempt to look younger.

  Granted, his physique is slim and muscular. And his posture, bearing and perma-tan effortlessly combine to suggest an illusion of youth, but the illusion is easily dispelled by the depth of the crow’s feet in the corner of his eyes and the thinning dyed-blond hair that has been styled for a much younger man. The Converse sneakers, fashionably ripped jeans and white V-neck T-shirt on a man of his age is desperate almost to the point of being comical.

  Trying not to grin, Erin gestures towards the exit. “That young woman seemed to be in a hurry. I hope we weren’t interrupting anything important?”

  “No, nothing like that,” Bannister responds. “We were just about finished anyway.”

  “She looked very young,” Erin comments. “How old was she?”

  “Old enough,” Bannister replies defensively. “We have a strict over-eighteen policy and all our clients are required to provide photo ID before we will consider working with them. You’re more than welcome to look through our records, Officer… I’m sorry. I didn’t catch the name of you and your colleague, or why you are here?”

  Erin holds her ID up for inspection and introduces herself. “I’m Detective Chief Inspector Erin Blake. My colleague is Detective Sergeant Bolton. We would like to ask you a few questions about a young woman named Shreya Singh. We understand that she may have been a client of yours?”

  Seemingly puzzled, Bannister shakes his head. “That name doesn’t ring a bell, but we do see a lot of girls.” Turning toward the reception, he asks, “Shreya Singh. Is she one of ours, babe?”

  The response is immediate. Danica nods and says, “She’s the Indian girl. The clever girl. An accountant, I think.”

  Tony Bolton has joined Erin near the reception and says, “Yes, that’s her. When was she last here?”

  Suddenly nervous again, Danica glances furtively at Bannister, then quietly stutters, “Um, our network and server are down at the moment, but if you give me a minute, I can check in the office for her file?”

  Unconvinced by the sudden and all too suspiciously convenient loss of the network connection, Tony is ready to say something when Erin interjects. “That’s okay, Danica. Why don’t you look for that file and see if you can resolve your IT issue while we go for a walk with your boss? That’s okay, isn’t it, Mr. Bannister?”

  “Yes, of course,” he replies but looks puzzled again. “You still haven’t actually told me why you’re here, though. Is the young woman you mentioned in trouble with the police?”

  “The young woman’s name is Shreya Singh,” Erin reminds him. “Or at least it was. She was murdered sometime yesterday in the early hours of the morning. No doubt you’ll be hearing about it on this evening’s news.”

  The surprised gasp from Danica is enough to make both officers turn to face her. “Oh my God. That poor girl.”

  At the same time, the color from Derek Bannister’s face drains as much as his perma-tan will reasonably allow and he is now noticeably trembling.

  “Perhaps, let’s walk and talk,” Erin suggests. “I’d like to see your studio and the rest of the premises if you’ve no objection.”

  Holding open the side door, Bannister forces a smile and says, “Be my guest, Chief Inspector. My studio and office are just through here.”

  . . . . . . . .

  The main studio area is dominated by a bright white retractable backdrop that also extends when needed to partly cover the polished wooden floor. On the ceiling above, a black steel truss is adorned with an assortment of lights that offer the photographer a vast array of color options and tones to accentuate and emphasize the subjects’ features, or which, alternatively, can be used as an aid to set the mood of the shoot.

  On the floor, there are half a dozen freestanding LED lamps and three professional cameras mounted on tripods.

  In the corner of the room, there is a luxurious-looking pink velvet-covered chaise longue. There is also a table, covered in what looks like photography props. The last items in the room are a pair of freestanding clothes rails. Both are groaning under the weight of various dresses and exotic-looking outfits.

  Erin mentally notes to herself that the mix of outfits seems to contain a disproportionate amount of lingerie items. Turning to Bannister, she asks, “How many clients do you see on average each week? Only, I imagine it must be quite a few for you to not remember Shreya Singh. She was a stunning-looking girl, and I’m sure you can’t get that many Indian girls coming to you for work?”

  “I don’t,” Bannister responds. “But I do see more than my fair share of hopeful wannabees every week, Inspector Blake. They all think they have what it takes, but it takes more than just good looks and a great body. The sad reality is most girls that come here are instantly forgettable.”

  “Does that include Shreya Singh?” Erin asks. “Was she instantly forgettable?”

  Bannister shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I really don’t recall much about her. I’d need to see her file.”

  DS Bolton hands him a recent picture of Shreya. “Perhaps this might help?”

  For a moment, Bannister stares blankly at Shreya’s face, then there is a spark of recognition. “Oh, yes, I remember now. The cheeky young Indian girl. Very cute, but all wrong for fashion and glamour work. Too short for a start. And way too much attitude.”

  “Too much attitude?” Erin says. “What do you mean by that?”

  Bannister laughs and raises his eyebrows
. “I mean too well-educated to be a model. She asked far too many questions.”

  “A bit of an outdated attitude, don’t you think?” Erin suggests.

  “Maybe,” Bannister replies, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m from the old school, though, and I prefer to work with models that can take instruction. That’s not so unusual in this profession.”

  “But you did work with her?” Tony asks. “We were told that you helped put together a portfolio for her.”

  “That can hardly be classed as working with her, DC Bolton. Unsigned clients pay for a—”

  “It’s Detective Sergeant,” Tony corrects him.

  “Oh, yes, I’m sorry, Detective Sergeant. I was saying that it’s normal for an unsigned client to pay for a portfolio themselves. Part of that fee is payment for us to circulate the portfolio amongst our network to find work for them.”

  “From which you presumably take a cut of the earnings,” Erin says.

  “I’m not running a charity, Chief Inspector. Of course we take a cut of the earnings. That’s standard industry practice.”

  “And did you?” Erin asks.

  “Did I what?”

  “Did you find any modeling work for Shreya that made you any money, Mr. Bannister?”

  Up to now, Derek Bannister has remained completely composed, but the current line of questioning and insinuation is starting to irritate him. “I’m not sure I like your tone. I run a fully legal and above-board business. None of the girls that come in here are forced or pressurized to do anything they don’t want to. They come to us of their own free will and they are free to leave in the same way with no hard feelings if things don’t work out for them, or for us. It’s very much a two-way street, Chief Inspector.”

  “You’re right,” Erin says nodding. “I think perhaps I’ve got a little too emotionally invested in this case, Mr. Bannister. I apologize if I’ve caused offense. Shall we go to your office now?”

  Relieved by Erin’s apparently sincere apology, Bannister willingly shows them through to his office. The two officers take a seat in front of his desk, and he leaves to collect Shreya’s file.

  Behind the desk, a video camera mounted on a tripod is pointed directly towards where Erin and Tony are sitting.

  “What do you suppose that’s for?” Erin asks.

  “I’m not sure, but I could probably hazard a guess,” Tony laughs. He then points to a collection of trophies and awards gathering dust in a cabinet. “I’m no expert, but they all look Mickey Mouse to me, boss. I’m sure I’ve seen the same ones for a fiver each in the Homer Street Market.”

  “You’re probably right, Tony. I’m sure they’re impressive to the young and gullible, though. It’s all about image to these people. That’s probably why he didn’t think much of Shreya. She was too smart for him to effectively manipulate.”

  Bannister comes back into the room holding a thin blue-colored file and Erin asks if the IT issue is resolved.

  “Sorry, no. Danica thinks it could be an issue with our server. She’s talking right now with the company that provides our tech support. I’m sure they will figure out the problem soon enough.”

  “That’s Shreya’s file, though?” Erin asks, holding out her hand. “May I?”

  Bannister takes a seat behind his desk and passes the file to Erin. She doesn’t open it, though. Instead, she places it down and asks, “What’s the video camera behind the desk for?”

  “This camera?” he replies, turning to face it. “We use it to record our client interviews. It’s standard practice these days. We share the footage with other agencies. It’s far more effective than just sending still images.”

  “I’m not following you,” Erin says. “Perhaps you’d be kind enough to explain further?”

  “Of course.” Bannister smiles obligingly. “The interview starts in the same way as any other interview. We discuss the girl’s experience and her aspirations, such as what kind of work she is open to. We then ask her to stand up and turn so that she can be seen from various angles. This might include asking her to walk, to pose, to smile, etc. It really all depends on the girl herself.”

  “What about undressing or dressing up in lingerie,” Erin suggests. “I noticed quite a number of provocative outfits and lingerie items on the rails in the studio.”

  Bannister shrugs to himself. “If a girl has indicated a willingness for that kind of work, then, yes, it would be normal to ask them to undress or to wear an outfit appropriate to that type of work.”

  “Do they get undressed in front of the camera?” Tony asks. “Only, I haven’t seen a changing room anywhere yet.”

  Bannister points to a door to the right-hand side of his desk. “There is a bathroom through there that they can use. However, most of the girls interested in lingerie or adult work are happy enough to strip off here. That kind of goes with the territory, Sergeant Bolton.”

  “I’m sure it does,” Tony says. “That must be interesting for you, Derek?”

  “No. Not particularly,” Bannister replies, shaking his head. “I’m a professional. I see tits and bums every day, but they are all just work to me. So, you can save the schoolboy innuendo for your mates in the pub. It’s wasted on me, Sergeant.”

  Tony holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough. I apologize. I was out of order.” He lowers his hands and Erin retakes the lead. “So you would still have Shreya’s video interview, I assume?”

  “Yes, it would be stored on our server,” Bannister replies. “I could let you have a copy as soon as our IT issue is resolved.”

  “Assuming it does get resolved,” Tony mutters to himself.

  “I’m sorry. What was that?” Bannister asks.

  “I was just saying, let’s hope the issue gets resolved quickly,” Tony replies. “And with no loss of data.”

  With Tony now appearing to play the bad cop, Erin smiles sympathetically and skillfully diverts the attention back to herself. “This is a difficult situation for everyone, Mr. Bannister, but we sincerely appreciate any help you can give us. Do you recall any details from the initial meeting with Shreya and whether she found any modeling work through your agency?”

  Bannister points to the file on the table. “Everything you need to know would be in there, Chief Inspector. You should find a brief summary of her interview along with a tick box of all the kinds of work she was open to. There should also be a record of any work she did along with the payment details.”

  Erin looks down at the file and then back to Bannister. “Thank you, but I’d like to hear from you first, if that’s okay?”

  Unsure of her meaning, he first looks to DS Bolton for any clue and then back to DCI Blake. “I’m starting to think that I’m under suspicion for something and that I shouldn’t be speaking to you without a lawyer present?”

  “You’re not a suspect in this case,” Erin says, shaking her head. “So, I can’t think why you would need a lawyer. Our questions are perfectly reasonable when you consider your relationship to Shreya.”

  “There was no relationship,” Bannister exclaims. “She was a client, nothing more.”

  “Yes, that’s what I meant,” Erin says with a nod. “An agent– client relationship. I’m simply asking what you remember about that relationship. Can we continue?”

  Unconvinced but hoping they will leave quickly if he answers their questions, Bannister nods in agreement.

  “Good,” Erin says. “Tell me what you remember about Shreya Singh.”

  . . . . . . . .

  Bannister speaks for less than five minutes. When he finishes, Erin thanks him and smiles before finally opening the blue file. She quietly scans through its sparse contents and then closes the file and places it back down.

  “Okay, well, the records seem to confirm what you’ve just told us. Her client interview was in September of last year. Her only work preferences were fashion and glamour, and apart from the shoot for her portfolio paid for by herself, there was only one other shoot, which was for an
online catalog on February 12th of this year. Her fee for that, after your twenty percent commission, was four hundred and forty pounds.”

  Clearly pleased with himself, Bannister smiles. “Like I said, Chief Inspector, everything was totally above board. We are a profession—”

  “Was February 12th the last time you saw her?” Erin cuts in.

  “Yes, I believe so,” Bannister replies. “Any other record of work or payment would be in that file.”

  Erin nods to herself. “Okay, that’s clear.” She then reopens the file and removes the sheet with the work preference tick boxes. “Tell me more about these types of work, Mr. Bannister.”

  She is pointing to the lower section of the sheet with tick boxes for beachwear, lingerie, topless, nude and adult work.

  “Shreya has ticked no for each of these, but I’m assuming that this kind of work would pay better than, say, regular catalog modeling?”

  “Generally, yes,” Bannister replies. “It’s not for everybody, though. It’s the kind of work that you need the right attitude for.”

  “And Shreya didn’t have that attitude, I’m guessing?”

  “That’s not for me to say one way or the other, Chief Inspector. She completed the sheet to say she wasn’t interested, and it’s not our policy here to push anyone in a direction they are not comfortable with.”

  “Even for a twenty percent cut of the earnings?” Tony asks sarcastically.

  Ignoring him, Bannister repeats that it’s not policy. He then turns back to Tony and smirks, “If you’re interested, though, there is a booming market right now for erotic images of mature gay men. I’ll do you a special and only take a ten percent cut.”

  Burning with embarrassment, Tony is lost for words, and Erin has to consciously suppress her urge to snigger. Focusing straight ahead, she says, “One last question, Mr. Bannister. Roughly what percentage of your clients get involved in the adult side of the industry?”