by Carol Wyer
It was unusual for the house to be so quiet. Maybe they’d all gone out with David’s father. She padded silently upstairs and onto the landing towards Josh’s room and was relieved to find him lying on his back on his bed, earbuds in, listening to music.
‘Hi. Everything okay?’
He removed the earbuds and pushed himself into a seated position. ‘Sure.’
‘What have you been up to?’
‘Stuff.’
‘You got anywhere with a holiday job?’ she asked.
Josh screwed up his face. ‘It’s really hard. Not much about. None of my mates have got jobs.’
‘Did you go into town and ask about?’
‘It’s Sunday,’ he said.
‘I know but shops and cafés do open on a Sunday. I thought you were going in to see what was available.’
He gave a half-hearted shrug. ‘I’ll try tomorrow. Dad was a bit busy today.’
‘Was he?’
‘Yes.’
‘You eaten?’
‘Not yet.’
‘What about lunch?’
‘Finished the leftover macaroni cheese from last night.’
‘Okay. I’ll sort out something.’
‘Cheers, Mum.’
She shut the door and ambled to Leigh’s room. She wasn’t in. She was going to ask Josh where his sister was when she heard a deep rumbling coming from her bedroom. It didn’t take long to work out what it was. David was lying on the bed, fully clothed and fast asleep. She shook him roughly until he stopped snoring and his eyes snapped open.
‘What’s going on?’ Natalie asked.
He sat up in one movement. ‘Nothing. Must have dozed off.’
She wrinkled her nose. The smell of alcohol was strong on his breath. Instead of chastising him she asked, ‘Where’s Leigh?’
‘Chilling with Katy and Jade.’
‘Oh. When’s she due back?’
‘I agreed to collect her at ten.’ His tone was light but she knew instantly there was more to it. He rubbed a hand across his chin, a tell that he was buying time.
‘Everything okay?’
‘Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?’
‘Well, you’re asleep at eight, Leigh’s gone out on an unplanned visit to friends and Josh didn’t go to town to drop off his CV as we planned.’
‘He didn’t want to go.’
‘He said you were busy.’
‘That’s bullshit. I was ready to take him but he was playing some online game and didn’t want to do anything.’
‘We discussed this, David. We were going to all go to town, let him ask about and then spend the day together.’
‘We were until you went to work.’
‘Just because I’m not around doesn’t mean you can’t carry on without me.’
‘They didn’t want to go to town, okay?’
‘No. Not okay. Josh needs a job. He can’t sit around here all school holidays doing nothing. Besides, work experience will be good for him.’
David stood up. ‘Don’t boss me about, Natalie. I’m not one of your minions. I asked if they wanted to go to town and neither of them did. Leigh was in one of her moods and flounced off to see her friends. What am I supposed to do in those situations?’
She clamped her mouth shut and mentally counted to ten. ‘Okay. Let’s leave it at that. What do you want to eat?’
‘There are pizzas in the fridge.’
‘Right. I’ll go and collect Leigh. You put them in the oven.’
His eyes flashed. ‘Don’t, Natalie.’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Talk to me like that.’
‘Oh, grow up. I’m being practical, that’s all.’ Even as she spoke the words, she knew she was in the wrong. She was treating him with disdain and she knew how fragile his ego was at the moment. However, she didn’t really care whether he felt hard done by or not, and she stalked away, feeling his eyes on her departing back.
It was just before ten when Ian arrived at the large brick building that was now the nightclub Extravaganza. There were no windows or openings to be seen from the street, and any apertures that might have existed in the past had been blocked up with fresh brickwork. Subtle signage was all that alerted the public to the fact this was a nightclub, and Ian walked along the street to an alley, where he encountered Murray waiting near an innocuous door.
‘Been here long?’ he asked.
‘A couple of minutes. Long enough to watch a group of pissed-up blokes go inside and come straight back out again. The price of the drinks probably put them off!’
‘You’d think they’d want a clear head for tomorrow,’ Ian muttered.
Murray laughed. ‘Do you know how ancient you sound? That’s the sort of thing my dad used to say. Life’s for living. Carpe diem and all that shit. They’re young enough to get up tomorrow with no hangovers whatsoever. I used to be like that. You should give it a go yourself. Loosen up a bit.’
‘Fat chance. What with work and all the other bloody pressures at the moment.’
‘Come on, where’s your party mojo?’ Murray retorted.
‘I’m not really in a partying mood. I’m in a bad place at the moment.’
‘Want to talk about it before we go in?’
Ian hesitated before saying, ‘We’d better do this first.’
‘Come on, then.’
Murray rapped on the door, which was opened immediately by a man all in black, with a pointed beard and ebony eyes that oozed hostility. Murray and Ian held up ID cards and were met with a scowl.
‘What do you want?’
Murray spoke. ‘Just a few questions. The club owners’ house was burnt down last night.’
‘Yeah. We heard about that. Kirk’s in the back office.’
‘We’d like to take a look around first, chat to the staff.’
‘I’ll get somebody to show you around then.’
‘We can manage on our own,’ Murray replied.
The bouncer glowered again and responded with, ‘How about I take you through to the bar and let Kirk know you’re here?’
‘Is Gavin in?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Okay. Cheers.’ Murray kept his tone casual and light. The guy showed Ian and Murray into the dimly lit room, where a woman in a tight red dress that emphasised her curves was sat on a stool beside a tall round table. Thumping music was coming from somewhere inside, its frantic beat heavily muted here in the entrance.
‘Two, is it?’ she asked, picking up a rubber hand stamper, ready to brand them with the nightclub’s logo.
‘They’re police,’ said the man, walking past the table towards a black door.
Murray and Ian didn’t follow him; instead, they both halted in their tracks.
Murray gave her a warm smile. ‘How long have you worked here?’
‘A year or so.’
‘Must get really hectic some days,’ Ian said.
‘Only at weekends. Mostly Fridays and Saturdays,’ she replied, eyeing him through thick eyelashes.
‘How many times do you use that on a busy night?’ Murray asked, pointing at the hand stamper, the smile in place.
‘Don’t know, really. Lots,’ she replied and replaced it on the table.
‘What about on an average Sunday?’
‘Depends. Anything between twenty and two hundred. Can never tell.’
Ian continued. ‘You enjoy working here? It must be rubbish hours.’
‘It’s okay. It’s a job. Like yours. Must be shit hours too.’
Ian agreed.
The man with the beard opened the door, and a wave of electronic pop rushed in, killing all further conversation. Murray followed the man through the door, Ian by his side.
The room opened out before them and technicolour lights strobed across the ceiling, bathing the numerous open-fronted booths around the dance floor with fluorescent pinks, greens and purples. Two imposing floor-to-ceiling onyx pillars stood either side of the dance floor. To the rear was
a raised podium on which, almost hidden from view behind a black curved screen that resembled a church pulpit, stood a wiry individual, casually attired in a T-shirt and wearing headphones, his head lowered over hidden electronic equipment.
A black leather-fronted bar ran almost the full length of the left-hand wall. Two members of staff in white polo shirts and black trousers were in a huddle, talking to each other.
The bouncer nodded sharply in the direction of the duo and then crossed the dance floor, disappearing behind a black curtain, above which was marked ‘Toilets’.
Murray put his lips close to Ian’s ear. ‘Talk to the bartenders. I’m going to nose about.’
Ian headed across while Murray darted off to the right and through another door that was lit by a neon sign: ‘Party Room’.
The door led to a wide staircase and a dark corridor lit dimly with floor lights. Framed pictures of groups of revellers raising glasses, wearing party hats, waving sparklers adorned the dark green-black walls. To both his left and right were doors marked ‘Private’ but ahead of him, wide double doors that were open led into the party room. The music playing was familiar to him: eighties classic pop rather than the modern electronic sounds he’d left behind. The room was a throwback to the disco era, with a giant disco ball hanging over a dance floor and curved leather settees, striped black and white, each capable of seating up to eight people, facing it. The bar was smaller in this room and also curved, taking up one corner while the deejay equipment was packed tidily in the other. There was no one behind the decks, and apart from a young woman with auburn hair in a high ponytail, there was no other staff. She greeted him as he approached.
‘Hi. Is it always this quiet?’ Murray asked.
‘It might pick up but Sunday isn’t the best day to be here. It was busier last night. What can I get you?’
‘I’m okay, thanks, just having a look about. It’s my first time here.’ He casually dropped onto one of the stools to continue his conversation.
She looked him up and down and asked, ‘On your own?’
‘Nah. My mate’s downstairs. I thought I’d see if there was more life up here but there isn’t and there’s no deejay,’ he added.
‘Dimension was our permanent resident deejay up here but now he only comes in for special parties, themed nights or special events like Valentine’s Day. The rest of the time we run playlists through the system.’
‘You choose this one?’
She grinned. ‘What can I say? I’m a pop diva.’
‘What’s your name?’
‘Lola. You?’
‘Murray.’
‘You been here long?’
‘Since it opened.’
‘I guess it’s a lot busier than this other days.’
She shrugged. ‘Sometimes.’
‘There’s not a lot of party atmosphere at the moment,’ he quipped.
‘It’s only ten. It’ll liven up later.’
‘Fair point. But usually I like to be in bed by ten,’ he replied with a twinkle.
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
‘What goes on in the private rooms?’
The smile vanished. ‘They’re for VIP guests.’
‘What do I have to do to become a VIP guest?’ he asked with a grin. It was too late. She wasn’t succumbing to his innocent charm any longer. Her face took on a guarded look.
‘Why do you want to know?’
He laughed. ‘Just curious. I’ve not been to a nightclub with rooms like that before. What happens in them?’
She suddenly picked up a glass and held it to the light to check for smears. ‘It’s just for private parties, nothing more than that. Look, I have to get on, okay?’
‘Sure. Thanks for chatting. Oh, just one second. You haven’t seen this girl around at all, have you?’
‘What are you? Police?’
‘That’s right. DS Murray Anderson. I’m investigating the death of this girl.’
He passed her the picture of Roxanne, and Lola studied it before returning it to him. ‘She’s not been here.’
‘Have you ever seen her around the nightclub?’ He looked carefully for any signs the woman knew Roxanne but her face remained impassive and she gave an involuntary light shrug of apology.
‘No. Sorry.’
‘I take it you’ve heard about the fire at Kirk and Gavin’s house.’
‘Of course. I was here last night when they got the call to say it was on fire. Gavin shot off to find out what was going on. I heard it’s a right mess.’
‘Have you ever been there?’
She shook her head. ‘I only work here. I’m no more than bar staff.’
‘You know Lindsay Hoburn? She’s one of the bar staff here.’
‘Sure.’
‘Does she still work here?’
‘I don’t know. I haven’t seen her in a while but she only works stand-in shifts. Unless somebody’s off sick and none of the regular staff can stand in, we don’t need her.’
‘What about Daisy Goldsmith?’
‘What about her?’
‘You know her?’
She let out a snort. ‘Course I do – gold-digging Daisy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I don’t need to spell it out, do I?’
‘Best if you did.’
‘She chased after Gavin from day one. She was a shit hostess and never pulled her weight but she sucked up to Gavin and got away with it. We were all pretty glad to see the back of her.’
‘And do you get on okay with the club owners?’
‘I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I wouldn’t work for people I didn’t like. They’re good bosses.’
‘You’re not involved with either of them, are you?’ Murray threw it out there to watch her response.
Her eyes widened. ‘No way. I’m married – to the guy on the door, Clark.’
‘What about the other employees here? Has anyone complained lately about Kirk or Gavin, or has anyone been fired recently? Or maybe you’ve overheard something that could help us?’
‘You’re joking, aren’t you? We don’t get a chance to sit around talking to each other, and by the time the shift is over, we’re all fit to drop. I haven’t heard anyone bad-mouthing them. We’re all pretty happy with our lot here.’
‘Okay. Thank you. I’ll leave my card in case you want to contact me.’
‘I can’t imagine that happening.’
‘Take it. You never know.’
She yanked the card from between his fingers and slapped it on the counter near the till. She turned her back to him and placed the glass she’d been holding on a shelf, then bent down to rearrange some bottles. She wasn’t going to open up to him or answer any more questions.
He retraced his steps down the corridor, crossing paths with a group of women and men all in their early twenties. Once they’d disappeared into the party room, he paused by one of the other doors and quickly pushed on the door handle. It was locked. He tried the door opposite but it too was locked so he headed back downstairs. It had filled up a little and two girls were dancing side by side, arms around each other’s waists. Ian was in conversation with Kirk. He joined them, and Kirk greeted him with, ‘Your colleague here said you’d gone to the toilet.’
‘I took the wrong door, ended up upstairs in the party room,’ said Murray.
‘The toilets are over there,’ Kirk replied, indicating the curtain.
‘Thanks. We’re following up enquiries and would like to talk to your employees, if possible.’
‘We don’t have many staff on shift tonight but go ahead. You’ve probably met Lola in the party room.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘It’ll get busy in the next hour so I’d ask your questions now if I were you.’
‘Thanks. Is Gavin coming in later?’
‘Not tonight. He’s spending some time with Daisy.’ He glanced across the floor and raised his hand. Murray turned to see a group of four men at the
door with the fork-bearded bouncer.
‘Who’s that guy?’
‘Which one?’
‘The bouncer that showed us in.’
‘Clark. Been with us since we opened.’ His response was automatic, attention now on the men who radiated confidence in outfits that looked, to Murray’s eye, stylish and expensive.
‘I’ll leave you to it. Don’t annoy any of the punters, though, will you?’ Kirk said and strode off. Murray watched as he fist-bumped each of them and stood in earnest conversation. One man lifted both hands, palms up, and another spun on his heel, clearly irritated. Kirk patted him on the shoulder and spoke again. The first man nodded, and making large hand gestures, he spoke to the others before they all trooped after Kirk.
‘You get anything?’ Murray asked Ian.
‘I didn’t get a chance to speak to both of the bar staff before Kirk appeared. I had a few words with one of them but he was a bit cagey.’
‘The girl upstairs, Lola, was like that too. Let’s split up, talk to anyone we come across and meet up again outside.’
Ian headed back to the bar. Murray moved towards the podium and spotted Kirk and the men going through the door that led upstairs. He mounted curved steps towards the deejay, and as he did so, he became aware of Clark, who now stood in front of the door, legs planted wide, eyes trained on him.
Murray stood close to the wiry guy in headphones. From this position he could keep an eye on Clark and anyone coming into the club. The music was loud and he had to shout to make himself heard over it. DJ Crush was a ball of energy, talking and pressing buttons on his mixing decks at the same time.
‘How long have you worked here?’
‘Since it opened. Before that I gigged in Ibiza.’
‘So, you know the brothers well?’
‘Sort of. We share a beer and a laugh after work sometimes.’
‘Do other members of staff do that too?’
‘Mostly they go home but I’m usually too pumped from the music, so I hang back. The bros sometimes join me.’
