by steve higgs
Thinking about proof, I remembered Kimberly's toiletries in the lab at the station. I needed to get them back, so I could have them tested. What would that cost? Who would I even approach to do it? Tempest had said something once about a chemistry teacher at a school or a college he knew. If he had told me the fellow's name or which school I could not now remember though.
On my way back to my place from Patience's, I called the lab's number hoping that Simon or Steve would pick up. I owed them an apology as well.
‘Crime lab.’ Simon said as he picked up the phone.
‘Simon it’s Amanda.’
‘Oh, hey, Amanda. Are you calling about all the toiletries we still have?'
‘Yes, can I come and get them? I still want to have them tested.’ Maybe Simon could tell me where I could take them.
‘CI Quinn ordered us to throw it all out.’ Simon told me flatly.
The news felt like a gut punch.
‘We ignored him of course. Hold on I'm putting you on speakerphone.' I listened as the phone clicked a couple of times, then the tone of noise changed to provide the echoing effect one gets from an enclosed room on a speaker.
‘Hi, Amanda.’ It was Steve’s voice.
‘Hi, Steve.’
‘I analysed the shampoo bottle. It was all we had time for so far. The rest of it we hid in case he came back. The first piece of news is that you were right.' I fist bumped the air. ‘Someone tampered with the lady's shampoo and they knew what they were doing. Do you need to write this down, because it is about to get scientific? Never mind, I’ll send you a report.'
I really didn’t need the long-winded version, but I knew they both liked to show off how clever they were and had learned to indulge them long ago. It meant they would do things for me that they would not for others. Like right now for instance.
I was crawling through traffic anyway, so it might take a while to get home and now I had company in the car, sort of. Steve started his explanation. ‘When making a hair removal product you need a chemical that will attack the keratin faster than the skin can produce a new supply of keratin. This is not easy because in doses high enough to do this most chemicals will be dangerous to the person using them. One also must avoid unpleasant odours which such a chemical might bring and there are side effects like eczema associated with any strong hair removal product. What has been used, is an exquisite blend that is attacking the sulphur bonds in the keratin through a salt of thioglycolic acid. However, for that to work, it has to exist as an active dianion in the product.'
I honestly understood only about twenty-five percent of the words he was saying. It reminded me of taking German classes in school, where I knew some words so would listen to Herr Schneider prattle on and be able to pick out odd words here and there that I knew. The flow of what he was saying would be lost to me though. This was the same.
‘This requires a high concentration of hydroxide ions.' he continued and then launched into a series of chemical formulas. I could feel my eyes getting heavy. If I had been on my sofa at home, I would be asleep already.
He finally wrapped up the lesson by saying, ‘That’s not even the interesting bit.’
‘Wait, what? There is a complex chemical chain present in my client’s shampoo that is causing her hair to fall out, it can only have been introduced deliberately and by someone with a very high level of chemical knowledge and that’s not the interesting bit?’
‘No, Amanda. The interesting bit is that we found anhydrous ammonia and iodine crystals in trace quantities on the outside of the bottle. These would have washed off if they had been exposed to running water in her shower. That is where you said you found the bottle, yes?’
‘It is.’ I had no idea where he was going with this new information.
‘So, it can only have been introduced by the person you saw in her apartment.’ He announced triumphantly. He was waiting for me to respond and I was trying to think of something to say that would not make me sound stupid.
‘Um.’ I tried.
‘They are the base ingredients in making methamphetamine. You make that, then bubble acidic gas through it to make crystal meth. We have a massive crystal meth problem here. We have for years. Whoever it was that tampered with the shampoo, that same person had been making crystal meth.' I could hear the pride in his voice, he knew what this meant.
Bartholomew was the Magdalene King.
A horn blared. I had been lost in thought and was drifting out of my lane. ‘Guys, where is the evidence now?'
‘With us. We are going to stay late to test a few more of the products when the Chief has gone home.’
‘Have you told anyone else about this?’
‘No.’ said Simon, speaking for the first time in several minutes. ‘Who would we even tell? The Chief will not listen.’
He was right. If Bartholomew was cooking crystal meth somewhere, I would need to have all the evidence before I acted, before I approached Quinn to coordinate a raid or even an investigation. Even with irrefutable evidence Quinn might still ignore me just to be annoying.
I thanked them both for being so great and promised them a big mention when I solved the case. Despite the slow traffic, I was almost home and my thoughts were of Jane's date with Bartholomew tonight. I was going to be the spider that drew him into my web.
Preparing for Jane’s Date. Wednesday, November 2nd 1920hrs
I had called Big Ben from the car just before I arrived home. He knocked on my door just a few minutes after I got in.
‘Cup of tea?’ I held up the kettle as he settled on my sofa.
‘Yes, please. Hotstuff why is there a blanket on your sofa now?' he asked.
‘Because it no longer feels clean, Benjamin.’ I said pointedly.
‘Because Kimberly and I rolled around naked on it.’ He confirmed. ‘Sorry about that. I’m fairly sure it is clean, but I can pay to have it professionally scrubbed if you wish. Or, you know. We could take a turn on it and maybe you would feel less bothered about it then.’
He hit me with a dangerously suggestive smile and made his pecs dance a bit beneath his shirt.
I rolled my eyes and flicked the kettle switch to on. I set out three cups expecting that Jane would be along soon enough.
‘Thank you for doing this again, Benjamin.'
‘You're welcome. Should we expect Patience shortly?'
‘No, I don’t think so. She has gone missing. Or rather, I don’t know where she is.’
His face crinkled at the news. ‘Missing? For how long?’
‘Not long. Missing is the wrong word to use.' I said, wishing I could have said it differently. ‘We had something of a falling out yesterday, at least I think we did. I got her into some trouble at work and we haven't spoken since. I tried calling and sent her several text messages. So, today I went to her house, but she was not there. Her car was though and more worryingly, so was her phone.'
‘Her phone?’ he echoed.
I held it up to show him. I still had it.
There was a knock at my door. Jane had arrived. Big Ben got up to answer it as the kettle clicked off, the hot water inside reaching a rolling boil.
Jane came in looking spectacular. Her blond wig swept over one shoulder and her makeup was salon perfect. She appeared to be wearing a fake bra so that for the first time there were lumps in the front of her white silk top. I couldn't tell that it was a guy under the clothing. She had selected a long skirt that hugged her bum and ended mid-calf where thick tights took her legs the rest of the way to a pair of brand-new black heels. It might be a man's legs beneath the hosiery, but you would never know. As it was November, it was all complimented by a thick, long coat that fell to her knees in a superbly contrasting camel colour against the black of her skirt and the white of her top. It looked expensive. All in all, she was a knockout.
‘Hi, Jane. I was just making tea.'
‘Sounds great.’ she replied. ‘I feel like I could do with something stronger though. I am quite nervous
.’
‘Do you want something?’ I asked while doing a mental tally of what I might have in the house to offer her.
‘No, that's okay. I had better not.' I noticed then that she was speaking in a passable falsetto version of the usual deep man's voice. I was used to the deep tone coming from the petite woman and no longer really noticed how incongruous it was. I guess she had been working on it.
‘What’s the plan tonight?’ she asked, taking a seat on the sofa.
‘You meet with Bartholomew as planned, have a couple of drinks, engage him in conversation and let’s see what happens. I wouldn’t let it drag out too long though. This is just a first date, if he has some ulterior motive guiding his actions then we want to know what it is, but I doubt you can straight out ask him.’
‘Okay.’
‘I should mention that the crime lab guys were able to prove that someone had tampered with Kimberly’s shampoo. There was an exotic cocktail of carefully crafted chemicals in it that could only have been produced by a very knowledgeable chemist. There were also traces of chemicals on the outside of the shampoo bottle that suggest he is involved in the production of crystal meth.’
‘Really? Big Ben and Jane said simultaneously.
‘I think he is the Magdalene King. Someone the police have been after for more years than he has been alive, but I think maybe he has assumed the role or come into it by deposing the previous guy. I don’t know, I’m still working out the idea, but I will be tailing him from now on.’
‘Is there anything you specifically want me to ask him tonight? Or do I just make chit-chat and let him talk about whatever he wants?' Jane asked.
‘You could maybe drop in about religion, see if he talks about voodoo at all. Maybe ask what he does for a living, see if he brags about a shady side.'
Big Ben had a thought, ‘You could say that bad boys are a bit of a turn on for you and see if he takes the bait. Lots of guys like to pretend to be the dangerous, gangster sort.’
‘Time to go.' Jane said, checking the time on her phone and putting down her now empty teacup.
‘We’ll be back once it is done.’ said Big Ben doing likewise.
‘Hold on I’m coming with you.’
‘Won't he recognise you?' Asked Jane.
‘Give me one minute.’ I rushed to the bedroom. I had been thinking about this for a few hours. I have some costume makeup from a Halloween event a few years back and outfits that will alter my appearance. If Jane could be a man dressed up to look like a completely convincing girl, then I could turn myself into a boy.
I had a short wig that I tucked all my hair into and a pair of men's cargo pants and paint-spattered caterpillar boots that had been left in my flat when I booted a cheating boyfriend out a couple of years back. His feet were only a size bigger than mine, so I used them when I had crappy tasks to do and didn't want to ruin anything of my own. I wiped off the little makeup I usually wore and used mascara to thicken the fine hairs on my face. It would be dark in the bar and all I needed to do was not look like Amanda Harper to Bartholomew. We would sit close enough to see him, but not so close that he would be able to notice me. I could probably sit with my back to him and let Big Ben do the surveillance bit anyway.
Satisfied that I looked manly enough to fool someone that was not looking at me, I went back out to find Big Ben and Jane standing by my door and waiting to go.
‘Oh.’ Said Jane.
‘Oh, good, or oh bad?’ I asked.
‘It’ll do.’ Replied Big Ben. ‘Although, you forgot one element in your transformation.’
I stepped to my right to look in the full-length mirror I had by the door. ‘What?’ I asked when I failed to see what to him was clearly obvious.’
‘Sweetie, you have rather large boobs.’
Oops. He was right.
‘Too late now. Let's go.' And with that, I pushed them both out of my apartment and down the stairs.
Jane's Date. Wednesday, November 2nd 2000hrs
When we arrived at the bar, Big Ben and I had gone in first. I spotted Bartholomew straight away, in a cubby not far from the bar. We took a table that was diagonally across the room from him and quite close to the door. I had a direct line of sight to watch him but sat so that my natural angle of vision was not on him. Big Ben went up the bar to order drinks and scope the rest of the bar just to see if Barty had any of his friends with him.
Big Ben would not know what they looked like but was savvy enough to watch body language and spot two people looking at each other too often for it to be a coincidence.
A minute after we came in, timed so that we could have a quick look around and position ourselves, Jane came through the door.
Bartholomew had been watching and, through the wonders of modern internet dating, knew exactly what she looked like. I watched his face. He was very pleased to see her.
There wasn’t much we could do now except hang on and see how Jane got on. Really, we were only there as a rescue squad if Jane wanted to bail.
Big Ben returned with two large gin cocktails and sat down adjacent to me. We could both watch the corner where Jane and Bartholomew were sitting, but both needed to avoid doing so in case we made it obvious.
‘You were telling me about Patience.’ Big Ben reminded me.
‘Sorry, yes, Patience.' I said. 'Missing but officially, of course, she isn't.'
‘How about unofficially?' His voice was guarded, or perhaps it was concern I was hearing, like if someone hurt her, he would make them pay.
‘I don’t know where she is and neither does anyone else. I spoke with her mum and her sisters, they mostly suggested she was to be found in bed with a man.’
’You don’t think so though.’ He said it as a statement.
‘Patience always tells me about the men she meets. She told me more than I wanted to know about you. She hasn’t mentioned anyone in the last week, so unless she met a guy last night, I don’t think that is the answer.’ Talking about it was making me more worried for her. Tomorrow I would need to press the chaps at the station to do something.
‘Do you think he might have something to do with it?’ he asked, meaning Bartholomew.
‘I don’t know.’
We both lapsed into silence and sipped our drinks. Neither of us wanted to have more than one drink tonight and had chosen alcohol so that we would not stand out as the only two people in the place not drinking. Jane and Bartholomew seemed to be getting on famously. They were both talking animatedly, laughing and smiling and I risked a wry smile at the thought that Jane could really mess with some guys by pretending to be a girl only to reveal what was under her dress later on.
Big Ben and I made conversation to pass the time. It was nice to actually talk to him without him trying to get me into bed for once. Being out in a bar with him only made me think of Brett though and my need to speak with him to clear up the mess. He had asked me not to call though, so I wouldn't, even though I worried he would just meet someone while he was on his kitesurfing break. He was too handsome not to attract whatever females were in his location. What if he was in bed with one right now? Forgetting all about me as he writhed around with another girl.
Big Ben spoke to break my train of thought, ‘You are having an odd effect.’ I looked at him with a quizzical expression, so he would expand on his statement. ‘When I go in a bar, girls come up to me. Doesn’t matter if I am already with a girl or if the girl coming over to me is out with her boyfriend or husband. Since we came in, not one girl has approached me, but I have had several smiles from different guys. They think I am gay. You must look more convincing from a distance.’
‘I guess I do.' I checked my watch. It was nearly ten o'clock. Two hours had slipped by. I was getting tired, not to mention bored. I hadn't thought their date would go on this long, but just as I was thinking about how I could possibly cause the date to end, Jane stood up. Bartholomew did likewise, then helped her into her long, elegant winter coat and walked her to the door. As t
hey went by us, I could hear him asking if he could walk her home. It sounded like he had already asked several times when she replied that it really wasn't necessary.
Before we came into the bar, we had all agreed that if the date came to a natural conclusion, Jane would leave and head back to my place. I would follow her, and Big Ben would follow Bartholomew. Jane was outside now and walking away. We could see her through the windows. I couldn't leave to catch up with her though because Bartholomew was standing in the doorway with his phone in his hands, his fingers typing something to someone. A minute went by. I wanted to leave, but I dare not get too close to him in case he recognised me.
Thankfully, he slipped his phone into a pocket, zipped up his coat against the cool air outside and left. I got up.
‘Let’s go.’ I said to Big Ben, although I was already leaving. I turned around to check our plan as I pushed the door open. ‘I’ll try to catch up with Jane. Meet me back at mine?’ He nodded, and I saw his eyes flare at something ahead of me.
I turned to see what he was looking at and bumped straight into Bartholomew as he came back into the bar.
There was a moment where he was about to apologise and then he saw through my disguise.
‘You.’ He sneered. ‘Stalking me now, are you? Now I really will have to teach you a lesson.’ He made to grab for me but suddenly the hulking form of Big Ben was in between us.
‘I think you should reconsider that idea.’ Big Ben said calmly.
I moved to the side so that I could see around Big Ben at what Bartholomew was doing. He pulled a hand-stitched doll-looking thing from his pocket – a voodoo doll and grabbed for Big Ben’s hair. Big Ben punched him in the mouth and Bartholomew went bowling back out into the street, straight into the doorman’s legs, felling him like a tree.
‘Sorry about that.’ Big Ben said as he stepped over the tangle of bodies. He had hold of my arm to steer me along. I was going anyway. We left the scene, any thought of tailing Bartholomew abandoned.
After Jane's Date. Wednesday, November 2nd 2209hrs