Atmosphere

by Robert Innes

  “Suspect?” Fox repeated. “I thought we’d established that he could see as much as anybody else could?”

  “Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Blake told her. “And talking of flirting, while I’ve got you on your own, I’ve been wanting to have a word with you.”

  Fox flicked her hair over her shoulders. “What about?”

  Blake stared at her levelly. “Mattison. I’ve noticed that you two have gotten rather close since you arrived here.”

  “Close?” Fox said, looking bemused. “I don’t know what you’re on about, Sir. We’re just friends.”

  “Well, that’s good,” Blake said, standing up. “Because then you’ll know that Matti has a girlfriend, and she works at this station and I’ve known Mini long enough now to know when she’s feeling pushed out. I had only just started at this station when the two of them got together and I’ve never seen them so distant from each other as they have been since you arrived. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Matti…”

  “There’s nothing going on!” Fox stared at Blake in disbelief. “With all due respect, Sir, I think it’s a little unfair for you to be collaring me about whatever is going on in their relationship. If I didn’t know better, I’d even go as far to say it’s a little bit sexist.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry,” replied Blake. “I’ll be having exactly the same conversation with Matti. It takes two to tango. All I’m saying is that there’s a couple in there who not a few months ago were making noises about starting a family. Now, I barely see them talk to each other. But if, as you say, there’s nothing going on between you, then this conversation is as good as never happened.”

  Fox stood up, glaring at Blake. “I think that’s best.”

  She stormed across to the door of the interview room and pulled it open to find Mattison with his hand hovering over the door, apparently just about to knock.

  “Oh, hi, Lisa,” Mattison said, a small smile appearing at the side of his mouth.

  “What’s wrong, Matti?” Blake asked pointedly.

  Mattison grinned sheepishly then appeared to pull himself together. “We’ve found some footage of Amelia on the morning of her disappearance. She was in Clackton, coming out of a nightclub in the town.”

  “A nightclub?” repeated Blake with a raised eyebrow. “In the morning?”

  “Yep,” Mattison said, reading from his notepad. “‘Crystals night club on the high street. Might be worth popping in there?”

  “Okay. You can drive me up there now,” Blake replied. “I need to talk to you anyway.”

  He moved out into the corridor, throwing his coat over his shoulder and strolled towards the exit, before stopping in his tracks and turning around when he realised that Mattison was no longer following him. He narrowed his eyes as he saw Fox whispering something indiscernible at Mattison in the doorway of the interview room.

  “Matti?” Blake called pointedly.

  Mattison hissed something at Fox who gave Blake a nervous glance and disappeared back towards the meeting room.

  “Coming, Sir,” Mattison said, marching past Blake and out of the door towards the car. Blake watched him leave and then turned his head back in the direction that Fox had just gone. As he zipped his coat up, he narrowed his eyes and strode towards the car. Mattison was in for a very tricky car journey.

  7

  “Betty, don’t eat that,” Harrison said, pulling on the rope.

  Betty the goat turned her head around lazily and kicked the ground, still trying to get to the hedge by the fence. Normally, Harrison let her eat what she liked when she was in the garden, but Blake had taken such a painstakingly long time trying to get the garden looking somewhat presentable, possibly to distract him from the dreams he had been having, that Harrison would have felt guilty if Betty had messed it up.

  As he sat on the garden wall and watched Betty snuffle around in the grass, he wondered exactly how Blake was going to cope throughout the day with no sleep. He knew all too well what his boyfriend could be like when he was in the middle of investigating a case – he would completely immerse himself in interviews and file notes and forensic photos. At one time, this had been a challenge to Harrison, who had felt that the relationship was somewhat suffering as a result of Blake’s insistence of working as many hours as he could to get a case solved, but now he had realised that it was just who Blake was and that it was no reflection on him. Harrison was worried, however, about Blake’s current mental state. He knew Blake well enough to know he was stressed and while he did have some time away for Sally’s thirtieth to look forward to, Harrison also was fully aware that if whatever case Blake was working on at the time was not totally wrapped up, Blake would very likely forgo his time off altogether.

  “You spoil that goat.”

  Harrison closed his eyes in dread as he turned to see Tom standing in the doorway to the cottage across the road. He put his hands in his pockets and strolled across the road towards him.

  “I just give her what she needs,” Harrison replied. “She’ll try and wreck the place otherwise.”

  “I always wondered how Blake feels about the idea of a goat running rampant about the place,” Tom mused as he watched Betty chew the head of a geranium. “He doesn’t seem to be the type who would appreciate all the mess that this one could make.”

  He scratched Betty underneath the chin. As she stretched her neck up appreciatively, Tom grinned at Harrison. “She likes me.”

  “She always seemed to,” Harrison replied, nodding. “I wish I could say the same about Blake. She tries to headbutt him any opportunity she gets.”

  Tom chuckled. “Bless her. Is Blake alright?”

  Harrison frowned. “Blake? Yeah, he’s fine, why?”

  Tom shrugged nonchalantly. “Mum was saying that he’s been a bit on edge recently. Something about bad dreams?”

  Harrison could only imagine Blake’s reaction to Tom knowing about his nightmares.

  “No, he’s just had a lot on at work, that’s all. You know what it can be like if you’re stressed, it can make it hard to sleep sometimes.”

  “Not surprising he’s stressed with what went on with that girl at the magic show,” Tom mused “How can someone just vanish like that? Do you know anything?”

  “Why would I know anything?” Harrison asked, pulling Betty away from the geraniums. “Blake doesn’t discuss cases with me normally, I don’t think he’s allowed to.”

  “What, never?” Tom said, frowning. “Some of the cases he’s had, and he’s never asked you for advice or offloaded any of it to you? No wonder he’s stressed if he’s bottling all that up. There’s only one way for all that stress to go if you don’t release it in some way.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing really,” Tom said with a shrug. “Just be careful with him, that’s all. I’ve met loads of people with stress and anxiety. They can take it out on the people they care about the most. Just look after yourself, that’s all.”

  Before Harrison could reply, the door opposite opened and Jacqueline stepped out.

  “Hello, darling!” she called to Harrison as she locked the door behind her. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Harrison said, glancing at Tom. “Lovely.”

  “I was just on my way to the village hall,” Jacqueline said, throwing her keys into her handbag. “There’s quite a bit of cleaning to be done after the shows. I’m sure Mr Klein would have helped out himself, but with this awful business of his daughter going missing, you can hardly blame him for wanting to focus on that instead.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure he would have helped,” Tom said flatly, pulling his mobile out of his pocket. “He seemed the sort to want to get his hands dirty like that. Anyway, can’t stand around here all day, I’ve got a job to get to. See you later, Harrison.” As he walked away, he answered his phone and Harrison noted that he was suddenly talking at a much more indiscernible volume.

  Jacqueline shook her head as her son walked to
wards the bus stop. “Honestly, I swear he never used to be this cynical.”

  “Look, Jacqueline, I’ll give you a hand if you want,” Harrison offered. “Hardly fair to let you sort it all out by yourself. I’ll just put Betty away.”

  “Oh, thank you, darling!” Jacqueline said, sounding delighted. “I wish Tom had your good manners sometimes, honestly!”

  Harrison gave her a small smile as he led Betty back into the house. Tom’s words reverberated around his head. “There’s only one way for all that stress to go if you don’t release it in some way. They can take it out on the people they care about the most. Just look after yourself, that’s all.”

  Blake wasn’t a violent person, he told himself as he led Betty back into the backyard. He already knew that Tom was not somebody to be trusted. For as long as Harrison had known him, Blake had never shown any signs of wanting to take his problems out on anybody. His counselling would sort him out, the nightmares would stop, and Blake would return to the affable, fun, calm, and clear-minded person he always was. Apart from the nightmares, Blake seemed to be taking most of it in his stride. So why, a voice at the back of his head asked him, was he having to reassure himself so much?

  Harrison was soon distracted from Tom’s words when he arrived at the village hall with Jacqueline twenty minutes later and came to the immediate realisation that the hall did not appear to have been even touched since the last performance of Sebastian’s magic show. They were clearly in for some hard work.

  “Right then, darling,” Jacqueline announced, throwing her coat over the nearest chair. “I tell you what, do you want to see if there’s anything that’s been left backstage while I start stacking these chairs up? Just put it in a pile at the side of the stage or something if you find anything. I’m sure Mr Klein will be along to collect it at some point, when all this horrible business with his daughter is solved.”

  Harrison nodded and wandered backstage. Behind the curtain things were similarly untouched to the last time he had seen them. The cabinet was still stood in the centre of the stage along with a few various other props and items.

  Harrison took his time, making sure that everything was stacked neatly on the side of the stage. He was just rifling through a set of playing cards that, on closer inspection, were all the seven of clubs when he decided to take a closer look at the cabinet. He had seen just as much as Blake on the night of Amelia’s disappearance. Surely, he was just as capable of finding out the cabinet’s secrets as anybody else, and besides, he had painted it. In his mind, he had a right to look at it that little bit closer.

  Harrison opened the door of the cabinet and had a brief look around for anything out of the ordinary. When, much to his irritation he found nothing of interest, he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, immediately plunging himself into darkness. He felt around and then his feet found the secret compartment that Blake had explained to him that Amelia hid in once the doors were shut. He was quite a lean man, but even Harrison had difficulty trying to squeeze into the small compartment at the bottom. Then he realised that there was something stuffed into the corner of the hidden space. He pushed the door open again, stepped out, and then pulled out what he was feeling.

  It was a pair of high heeled shoes, golden in colour with fake jewels festooned around the straps. He narrowed his eyes as he realised that they looked exactly the same as the shoes that Amelia was wearing on the night of the performance. Harrison stared at the shoes in confusion.

  “Why would she take them off?” he wondered aloud.

  “Darling, are you alright?”

  Jacqueline had appeared from behind the curtain and was watching him with a confused expression on her face. “I don’t think they’re quite your colour.”

  Harrison chuckled then held the shoes out so Jacqueline could see them better.

  “They were hidden in the cabinet,” he told her. “I don’t get why though. Weren’t these the ones Amelia was wearing during the performance?”

  “Yes,” Jacqueline said. “I’m sure they were. In fact, I remember saying to Tom when we were watching that I really liked them and said that I must try and ask Amelia where she got them. I just hope I manage to get a chance to ask her.”

  “Why would she take them off though?” Harrison asked. “I mean, I get it if she was meant to hide in the bottom of the cabinet, she might need to take them off so she could fit, but then she just disappears, leaving them behind?”

  “That certainly is strange,” Jacqueline agreed, examining the shoes. “But if she was just taken and whisked away somewhere, she’s hardly going to think about taking her shoes with her, is she?”

  “Do you think I should mention it to Blake?”

  “I don’t know, darling. I mean, it is only a pair of shoes. Do you think they’ll be that relevant? Oh, my, the heel on these. Should I keep hold of them for now? I’m more likely to see Sebastian than you, after all.”

  Harrison raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think they’re your size.”

  Jacqueline stared greedily at the shoes then reluctantly handed them back to Harrison who placed them on the top of the pile of props and then returned to examining the cabinet.

  “The back opens,” he said thoughtfully, pulling the door to the rear of the cabinet open. “Doesn’t really help us though. She was suspended above the ground, she surely wouldn’t have been able to climb out without us seeing.”

  “And there was the mirror there reflecting the back of it at all times.” Jacqueline said, sighing. “I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t envy Blake at all trying to work this out.”

  “No,” Harrison murmured, staring up at where the mirror had been. “Me neither.”

  8

  Unsurprisingly, Mattison appeared similarly outraged to Fox about any accusations that there was anything going on between he and his colleague. Even so, Blake noticed that he had gone very quiet as they arrived in Clackton.

  “What’s this place called again?” Blake asked as they drove around.

  “Crystals,” replied Mattison shortly. “It’s a strip club. I think.”

  “You think?”

  “I’ve heard about it!”

  “Mm-hm. Well, it should be just down this street.”

  As Blake spun the wheel around, he was immediately struck by how bright and garish Crystals actually appeared. There was certainly no doubt to anybody who walked by what sort of establishment it was. A large pink sign that was festooned with lightbulbs hung on the side that Blake assumed would look even worse at night when the lights were actually switched on and the club was open for business.

  “Do you think anybody will be in?” Mattison asked as they walked towards the front entrance.

  “Yeah, there could be anybody, a cleaner, a manager, one of the dancers rehearsing. We just need to ask anybody we can find why Amelia Klein was in here on the day of her disappearance,” Blake replied.

  They arrived at the door and Blake pressed a button that rang a loud buzzer from the other side. A few moments later, they heard the sound of bolts being slid across the door and a young woman with bright, dyed red hair stood before them. She was chewing gum and staring at them expectantly.

  “Yeah?”

  “Good morning,” Blake said, pulling out his ID. “I’m Detective Sergeant Blake Harte, this is Police Constable Mattison.”

  The woman appeared unnerved. “What do you want?”

  “Can I ask who you are?”

  “Jemma.”

  “Jemma…?”

  “Jemma Hopkins,” she replied looking irritated. “What do you want?”

  “Does the name Amelia Klein mean anything to you?”

  “Amelia?” Jemma said, her eyes widening slightly. “Is something wrong? Has something happened to her?”

  “Maybe we could come in?” Blake asked her.

  Jemma looked cautious for a few moments, then eventually moved aside to let them into the club.

  They followed Jemma through the reception and into
the main bar area. Blake glanced around and took in his surroundings, imagining what the place looked like at night when it was full of drunken punters and scantily dressed women draping themselves over the tables and hanging down from the poles that were fixed in the middle of some of them.

  “Take a seat,” Jemma told them.

  They sat down in a booth near the dance floor, all white and split into segments and another aspect of the club that Blake suspected flashed incessantly at night.

  “I take it you work here?” Blake began as he felt himself sink into the plush leather of the seats.

  “Yeah, I’m one of the dancers,” Jemma replied as she tied her hair into a ponytail. “I’m here rehearsing actually. Fortunately for you, the door buzzer is loud.”

  “So, this is a strip club?” Mattison asked.

  “Look at you pretending not to know,” Jemma replied. “But yeah. Though we prefer the term ‘entertainment/cabaret venue.’”

  Blake glanced around at the bar. He had once gone to a cabaret night when he had lived in Manchester to see three older women in a singing group and he could not see any of them dancing on a pole.

  “How do you know Amelia Klein?” Blake asked.

  “Has something happened to her?” Jemma asked, looking worried. “Is she alright?”

  “We don’t know,” Blake replied. “She’s disappeared.”

  “Disappeared?”

  “We have reason to believe that she’s being held somewhere against her will.”

  Jemma’s mouth fell open. She looked absolutely horrified.

  “On the morning of her disappearance, she was seen coming into this establishment,” Blake continued. “Can you tell us why?”

  Jemma sighed. “Do you mind if I get a drink?”

  Blake raised an eyebrow. “Feel free.”

  They watched as Jemma walked behind the bar and retrieved a glass from a shelf above her head before pouring a hefty measure of vodka into it. Without adding any mixer, she took an enormous swig of it and then shuddered slightly at the taste.