Presumed Missing

by Fiona Tarr

  Jenny punched his arm conciliatorily. ‘Brighten up boss.’ She was excited, everyone could tell.

  ‘You keep your eye on the job detective. Don’t say anything to anyone unless you absolutely have to and then keep it down to a few words. Got it?’ Jack instructed, gently rubbing the shoulder she’d punched.

  Jenny nodded, her excitement turning to nerves. Liz patted her leg. ‘You’re a natural Jenny. Just smile, look gorgeous and use yes, no answers as much as possible. Like I said, only the security will be visible.’

  They pulled up to a flood lit estate. The gates were open and Jack craned to see an emblem, a number, anything that might help him identity the location.

  ‘Let it go.’ Max grumbled under his breath.

  The limo dropped Liz and Jenny off and pulled out of the estate. Jack checked his watch. They had another ten minutes to kill before Max would be dropped off. He sighed.

  ****

  ‘You put on that jacket before you freeze and wait here.’ Jenny slipped on her faux fur as Liz moved inside the grand sandstone entrance. Pulling her invitation out of her bag. Liz flicked it open for the doorman. He studied it closely, looked at her, then Jenny and then finally nodded for Liz to go through.

  Liz let out a nervous breath as she entered the foyer and stopped to get her bearings. The timber stairs wound up either side like something from Scarlett O’Hara’s Virginian estate. Underneath, there were doors to a theatrette. She’d been here before, in her early years, when she’d stood on the auction block, her old-school uniform cut and sewn as short as possible, hair permed liked Kylie Minogue and fishnet stockings with holes in the knees and six-inch heels.

  Liz forced the memory aside. She was the Madam now. She called the shots and more than that, she was doing this to save two girls from a fate worse than what she’d endured.

  After quickly checking her allotted area was ready, she returned just as Max entered, escorted by Jenny who flicked her hair and made Max laugh just like she’d been coached.

  Liz took Max’s arm as Jenny returned to the front steps to wait for Jack.

  ‘I could get used to this.’ Max grinned.

  ‘Wipe that stupid grin off your face.’ Liz leant in close to his ear, Max shivered slightly at her warm breath but the grin disappeared, as ordered.

  ‘Open the app as soon as you are seated. Jenny will stay with you through the bidding.’ Liz used a small torch to show Max his chair. She could see him looking around, peering into the darkness, but it would do him no good. When the stage lights came on, all he’d be able to see would be the tall backed chairs that were staggered to allow the viewers up back to see the girls on stage. Curtains were hung between each makeshift cubicle so the only vision was forward. The app would give the bidder a live feed featuring a close-up of the girls and a button to make an offer.

  ‘Comfy.’ Max offered as he sat back in the leather recliner, the air swishing out as he pushed the foot rest into position. ‘Do we get food and drink?’

  Liz rolled her eyes but Max couldn’t see a thing in the darkness. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘These booths are camouflaged, but they are not sound proof,’ she whispered again. ‘Try not to say anything stupid.’ She patted him on the shoulder and left to get Jack.

  She peered at her watch and tapped her foot in the foyer. Jenny led Jack, who craned his neck to get a good look at the security guard. Liz quickly moved forward and grabbed him by the arm firmly. ‘I thought you said you’d done this before?’ Her lips hovered next to his ear. ‘Don’t answer that.’

  ‘Just wait here a sec Jenny. I’ll be back to take you to our other client. He might need some guidance during the auction.’ Liz spoke carefully. Jenny and Jack not missing the cue to remain quiet.

  Jenny nodded, reposition her handbag over her shoulder and waited outside the main entrance door below the steps.

  Liz entered, following the same hallway of curtains she’d used to show Max his seat, she veered left this time, leading Jack to another cubicle.

  ‘Open the app as soon as you are seated.’ She leant in close. ‘These are not soundproof, so no speaking.’ Jack nodded and like Max, the detective couldn’t help but peer into the darkness, hopeful of a glimpse of something, anything that might help him locate the event in the future.

  It was useless. There were at least ten venues and they never followed any pattern in using them. The rules were strict and the penalty for breaking them was unthinkable. Hosts would never risk letting even their most trusted clients know where they’d been.

  Liz left Jack a moment and brought Jenny through to Max. ‘Stay in here until I come for you.’ She patted Jenny’s arm and returned to the next booth, tapping Jack on the shoulder as she approached his chair.

  ‘Where’s your seat?’ Jack whispered.

  ‘I’ll stand.’ Jack touched her hand and patted the side of his armchair. She smiled in the darkness, then took the offered spot next to him.

  He had the app open on his screen as the lights came up on stage. The screen flashed with lot #1 and Liz quelled the feeling of nausea. ‘This is the warm-up act. Bidding will be conservative,’ she whispered in Jack’s ear.

  The woman was obviously not a teenager, but many clients just wanted the illusion to fulfil their fetish. She was dressed like the comic character Sailor Moon, complete with long, thick blonde pigtails. Bids flashed up on the screen, one thousand, one thousand one hundred. Soon the numbers were flicking through faster than Liz could follow.

  The bidding slowed at three thousand two hundred and finished at three thousand two hundred and forty.

  Jack tapped Liz on the arm. She leant in low so she could hear his question. ‘Is that for one night?’

  ‘Yes.’ She didn’t elaborate. That was a pittance compared to what some might pay tonight.

  Five more lots were announced before a young woman appeared on stage. Liz felt Jack stiffen as the camera moved in on the girl. She looked young, very young. Fifteen, maybe sixteen, but she had the kind of complexion that could be misleading. Her skin was as white as porcelain, her eyes slightly tilted, revealing her Asian heritage.

  Jack relaxed as the bidding started. The figures jumped on the screen, the bidding going up in thousands until it reached ten.

  There were no announcements. No house lights came up to signify the end of the show, but the stage lights clicked out of existence. The show was over.

  Liz looked at her watch and pulled out her phone to text Jenny. We have twenty minutes before you can take Max out.

  She held her phone, waiting for the reply. Got it.

  Liz was aware of Jack’s body heat next to her. The smell of his after shave still lingered. They both sat silently, the shuffle of people could be heard and the occasional flashlight beam appeared as bidders made their way out of the event at five-minute intervals.

  There would be no mingling at the bar. No discussions about the show. This was a world Liz had lived in for most of her life. A world of consumption, of no care, no responsibility. Working with Jack was making her regret her past and she didn’t like the feeling.

  She shook herself out of the stupor. She’d saved girls, lots of them. She’d helped them get educated. Helped them leave the escort world behind. She had nothing to be ashamed of. So why did she feel so crappy?

  She texted Jenny. You’re up.

  She then sent a text to her limo driver and waited the five minutes she needed before Jack could leave. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.

  ‘Don’t be. We’ll find them.’ He touched her hand and she took a hold, rising from her perch on the side of his chair. She flicked on her flashlight and began to lead him from the cubicle.

  He didn’t let her hand go until just before they moved into the foyer. The limo was waiting at the front veranda, Jenny and Max already inside. One black limo looked the same and they doubted security would notice the registration numbers that had come back to get the second bidder.

  The screen was up between driver and passe
ngers and Liz sighed as she opened the bar. ‘Not the celebration we’d hoped for, but who wants a drink?’

  Everyone was silent, the mood not so much sombre from failing to find the girls, but pensive, as if everyone wanted to speak, to analyse the event but didn’t know where to begin.

  Max broke the ice in a way only he could. ‘That was totally fucked up.’ All voices answered him in agreement.

  ‘I’m sorry I roped you all into it.’ Liz handed out scotch for everyone, taking a long, slow mouthful and holding it on her tongue to savour it, hoping the alcohol might somehow wash away the filthy feeling she had.

  ‘It isn’t your fault we didn’t find them,’ Jenny offered.

  ‘That’s not the only reason I’m sorry.’ She kept her eyes down. She didn’t want to look Jack in the eye now they were out of the darkness. What would he think of her? Would he despise her for her past? Could he forget who she was and what she’d done, was still doing? More importantly, why the hell did it bother her what he thought?

  26

  Liz entered the reception area and Linda rolled her eyes skyward... again. ‘He’s busy.’ She fired off before Liz reached the front counter.

  ‘Happy Monday morning to you too.’ Liz smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was getting over the receptionist’s attitude, but she pulled herself together. ‘That’s alright Linda. I’m here to visit with the Chaplain.’

  Linda’s features changed from surprised to suspicious, all in the flash of an eye. This time, when Liz smiled it was almost an honest laugh. The woman was worried she’d flirt with the clergyman and that was hilarious, but in reality, that was exactly what she planned to do.

  ‘I’m assuming he is in the Chapel, or does he run religious instruction classes somewhere else?’

  Linda stuttered, started to speak, then stuttered again. ‘What do you want to see the Chaplain about?’

  ‘He might be able to help me with our latest line of enquiry. You want us to find Gemma, don’t you?’

  There was a moment of hesitation as Linda tried to read between the lines.

  ‘He’s in the Chapel. Do you know the way?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. I do.’ Liz was just about to leave, then she stopped. ‘When is the Principal available?’ The receptionist scowled.

  ‘He will be free at lunch time.’

  ‘Excellent. Let Mr Jacobs know I’ll see him at twelve.’

  Liz walked out the front of the building and wandered down the long-covered veranda, around the corner and down the brick pathway that skirted the open green grassed area. Old English trees dotted the landscape. Most had lost all their leaves now, the autumn colours all but gone.

  Easter was this Friday and they were running out of school term to find the girls. Soon the students and the staff would be all over the place and leads would be much harder to follow.

  Jack hadn’t shown her the photos of the dead girls but she didn’t need to see them to know the poor kids had suffered a miserable death.

  She was calling in after lunch to see the autopsy report, but in the meantime, she wanted to have more to report to the team. The Chaplain, the Principal and a call or two to a few guys in the know when it came to abortions should give her something to share with Jenny and Jack.

  She approached the chapel. The historical building was very beautiful. Liz opened the wooden door, entered the vestibule and looked up into the bell tower.

  The other side of the entry had another set of doors, which were closed tight, a padlock fixed in place. The lighting was dim, but Liz moved toward the doorway, lifting the lock and rolling it over a moment.

  It was new, shiny and didn’t really match the pad bolt that had the stains of years of sea air and dirt.

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end and a shiver ran down her spine. She felt him, well before he announced himself. He cleared his throat.

  ‘Can I help you?’ There were those black eyes again. Liz couldn’t help but think of a possessed demon from some fantasy horror movie, which was ironic considering the man’s occupation.

  ‘Chaplain. Just the man I’ve been looking for.’ Liz let the padlock go and watched the Chaplain’s eyes go from it to her. He said nothing, instead, holding to his original statement.

  ‘Yes. You can help me. May we go inside?’ Liz moved past the Chaplain who seemed hesitant to let her pass, but stepped aside as she pushed through. It wasn’t that he wanted to touch her, it was something else and Liz puzzled over it.

  They both moved toward the front of the chapel, the red carpet making their footsteps soundless. Liz had never been a religious person and seldom stood at the altar of a church, but this was the second time she’d been in this quaint historic building. Both times, the Chaplain had given her an uneasy feeling.

  ‘I wondered if you could answer a few more questions, about Gemma?’ The man offered nothing. ‘Did you ever meet her friend? Belinda?’ Liz watched him closely, a slight flicker, but nothing conclusive. ‘Maybe I can show you a photo?’ Liz reached into her suit pocket, feeling strange to have a suit on still, but thankful for the endless pockets on offer. Pulling out her phone, she looked at the Chaplain for confirmation.

  Still not a word. Liz tapped her screen, opened the photos and pulled up the one of Belinda. She turned the phone to the Chaplain who was staring at her, not the photo. ‘I think you were there when the girls said she was Gemma’s cyber bully, but we believe they were actually friends.’ Liz wiggled the phone, trying to get the man to look at the photo. He finally reneged, but his eyes only moved to the screen and back again, seeing nothing.

  ‘She called Gemma a slut. Do you know what that might have been about?’ Liz took a deep breath. ‘I find your lack of empathy disturbing for a man of God.’ The eyes flared. ‘Are you a man of God Chaplain? I’ve never got your name. What is that?’ The expression grew darker. ‘Oh, never mind. I’m meeting the Principal shortly, I’m sure he can help me with your personnel file.’ The man moved forward faster than Liz anticipated. For a fine—boned man, he was strong, stronger than Liz expected. The back handed slap came hard and fast. Liz reeled from the impact, landing hard against the pew, her vision swimming, then it went black.

  ****

  It was cold and dark. Liz shivered, her suit damp, her hair wet, her cheek throbbing. She moved her hand to rub her face and realised she was bound, thick rope holding her hands together. She moved her feet and forced the panic down. One foot was shackled, she tugged against the restraint, there was only a foot of movement, then it came to an abrupt halt.

  A groan next to her put her senses on high alert. She could see nothing in the blackness, not even her own hand in front of her face.

  ‘Quiet.’ A voice whispered from the opposite side from the groan. Liz spun around, trying to get her bearings.

  ‘Gemma?’ Liz whispered back. Silence answered her. ‘Belinda?’ More silence.

  ‘I’m here to help you.’ A cynical chuckle.

  ‘And how’s that going for you?’ whispered, but not without a sting.

  ‘I’m not on my own.’

  ‘You are now.’

  27

  Jack drummed his fingers on his desk. ‘She said she’d be here after lunch.’

  ‘Don’t sweat Jack, it’s only two thirty.’

  Jack ignored the junior detective. He pulled out his flip phone, punched speed dial #2 again. It rang out. Liz always answered her phone. He punched #1 and waited for Max.

  ‘Hey Jack, how’s it going?’

  ‘Do you know where Liz is?’

  ‘With you I thought? I’m just getting to the school, ready to watch our friend.’

  ‘She was supposed to be here after lunch. She said something about catching up with the Principal, then coming here.’

  ‘I didn’t drop her off, but she could have come by taxi.’

  ‘She was going to interview the Chaplain, then see the Principal. Then she was coming over to view the autopsy reports and see how we were going getti
ng the kid to roll over on whoever got the photos from him. Max, Liz is never late.’

  There was a pause. ‘I’ll find out if she met with the Principal and get back to you shortly.’

  Max hung up and Jack placed the phone on the desk. He couldn’t concentrate, but he had to assume Max would do his job. He was a good detective, and a great PI. If Liz was in trouble, he’d find out.

  ‘Now where were we?’ Jenny asked as she peered across the desk at Jack, frowning at his concern. ‘I’m getting coffee, want one?’ Jenny held out her reusable cup and bit her lip. ‘You are really worried?’

  ‘I am. Liz never knows when to let stuff go. You know she nearly got killed last time she got involved in a case.’

  ‘She’ll be okay Jack. Max will find her. She’s probably off doing what Liz does. You know, her other work.’ Jenny blushed and Jack frowned.

  ‘I’ll be back in ten.’ He leant over, collected his phone, put it in his pocket and picked up his coffee cup before heading for the elevator.

  As the doors opened he couldn’t help but think he was missing something, something important, something so basic it had slipped through the cracks and they were running out of time.

  As he reached the coffee shop, his phone rang. He put the cups on the counter and nodded to the barista who was familiar with the order, now having adapted to Jenny and not Max’s coffee. He answered the phone and nodded apologetically to the barista who was already putting caramel syrup in Jenny’s cup. Jack cringed.

  ‘Detective Cunningham.’

  ‘Jack.’

  ‘Mum.’ He hadn’t checked called ID before answering. ‘What’s up?’ His mother hardly ever rang him during the day.

  He heard her sniffle. ‘It’s your father.’

  ‘Is everything okay mum?’

  ‘He’s in hospital. They think it’s a heart attack. He collapsed in court today, around lunch time.’