by Sam Skyborne
“Want to put money on it?” Three said.
“No, I have learnt to keep my hard-earned pennies well away from you,” Toni teased.
Once on the sparring mat, Toni took Three through a series of the old routines that they had been working on over the past few months. Each ended with Toni flat on her back and Three looking particularly pleased with herself. Toni didn’t mind too much. The matt was soft and meant for that. Besides, she really liked to see Three look so happy.
Ever since that first time she and Three were taken hostage together there had been a strong bond of admiration and affection between them. When they first met it was obvious that Three was exceptionally bright and talented. Cyberspace was her natural domain—like a fish in water. There was nowhere she could not go, nothing she could not find, nothing she could not do. What surprised Toni though was how much courage and tenacity Three had in the real world. After what she had been through, Toni was not surprised by how determined she was to take self-defence classes. And in the months since Toni started to train her, she had discovered just how much feistiness and sheer grit her little friend was capable of.
After another twenty minutes of working on a new routine, Toni called time out.
“If I land on this freaking floor once more I will bust my guts. Well done you, but I have had enough of a beating for today.”
Three beamed at her, clearly still keen to keep going.
“So I have fulfilled my side of the deal,” Toni said. “Where’s yours? Did you get the case files?”
Three nodded. “Yeah, of course. What do you take me for?”
“Where are they then?”
“At home, of course.”
“Ah, clever!” she said as she swiped Three playfully over the head. “Not only a free spar, but also a lift home?”
Three giggled.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sunday
Toni had spent most of the previous day studying the case notes and witness statements in Erika’s case.
According to the reports Erika had been found lying in an alleyway, two blocks from The Vox. She had received numerous blows to the head with a blunt object, one of which was fatal.
The murder was initially believed to be an escalated hate crime due to the severity of the disfiguration and the attack coinciding with a rise in gay bashings in that part of town. What Toni found most alarming about this was that those responsible for the gay bashings were a range of otherwise average citizens united under a former minister, who now called himself the Preacher. He had formed a group called the CUL to ‘Clean Up London’.
Apparently, the investigation into the murder had been held up due to the CUL taking ‘credit’ for Erika’s death. Precious time had been lost in trying to corroborate the CUL’s involvement, time that potentially allowed the real killer to get away.
Once the CUL had been systematically ruled out and since all Erika’s personal items seemed to be missing, the police figured that it might have been a mugging gone wrong. Later the police found Erika’s wallet, necklace and underwear along with a baseball bat, believed to be the weapon used to bludgeon her, amongst the belongings of a local street-person, Jamie Walker. This was apparently enough evidence for the police to arrest Jamie Walker and place him on remand pending the CPS finalising the case. And so, the case was closed.
To Toni, that all seemed a bit too circumstantial. She could understand why Lucille was not convinced that they had caught the real killer.
However, she had a feeling Lucille had not told her everything either. Maybe she had thought that Toni would not take her case if she knew it was closed. Could that be all? Either way, she needed to get to the bottom of it.
CHAPTER FIVE
Monday
Toni and Maxine sat in Lucille Ransom-Evans’ very plush lounge waiting for their host to join them. According to her housekeeper, Lucille was on a conference call and would be with them as soon as possible.
Toni did not like being kept waiting. She saw it as a sign of extreme arrogance. A sign that you thought someone else’s time was less important than your own. In this case she also suspected it might be a delaying tactic or a demonstration of power.
In order to dissipate some of her agitation she got up and paced around the lounge.
On the mantelpiece was a set of six photos in silver frames of Lucille and Erika on various different occasions, laughing and smiling. Toni studied them. She had to admit, to her, they looked like a somewhat unlikely couple. There was at least a twenty year age-gap between them and even their appearance gave no hint that they would be likely partners. She wondered what they could possibly have had in common. However, in each photo they appeared to be very happy together.
Finally, fifteen minutes later Lucille, dressed in a well-cut Ted Baker suit and red silk cravat, entered. She offered a brief, seemingly well-rehearsed excuse for keeping them waiting and took a seat in a large armchair at the top end of the room. “I hope this visit means you have good news,” she said.
“Actually Lucille, the reason we are here is because we need more from you.” Toni took a seat on the edge of the couch.
“Oh? How can I help?” Lucille asked sounding surprised.
As she sat down Toni realised her mistake. Her lower position on the couch placed her at a distinct disadvantage. But, unable to see a way to rectify that immediately without jumping up again she decided to continue. “I believe you have not been entirely honest with me.”
“Really? In what way?”
“For starters, you omitted the fact that Erika’s case was closed by the police and that Jamie Walker is currently awaiting trial.” Toni watched Lucille’s reactions carefully.
Maxine got up from where she had been seated next to Toni on the couch and took up a standing position behind Lucille near the window. Toni was pleased to see that that unsettled Lucille. Clearly, this was an intimidation technique Maxine was also familiar with.
“Well, as far as I'm concerned Erika’s case should definitely still be open.” Lucille said, folding her arms and focussing her attention back on Toni. “I do not believe that this was some random mugging or robbery. The monster who did this to my precious Erika, the love of my life, is still out there. Tell me something Ms Mendez. Have you ever lost a loved one?”
Toni nodded not wanting to think about it really. It would be too painful.
“Well, Ms Mendez, if you have ever lost someone you love, you will know what it’s like. How it can shake your strongest foundations and make you feel utterly powerless—powerless at having someone ripped from your life, never mind deal with the sloth-like bureaucracy and judgmental attitudes of the police…”
“Judgemental? How?” Maxine asked.
“Well, let’s just say they are not the most sympathetic, even more so since we do not fit the heterosexual family norm.”
Toni could understand Lucille’s ire. She had experienced it from a personal and professional perspective. Toni could not vouch specifically for Lucille’s view of how homosexual families were dealt with. She did, however, know that sadly there were so many unfortunate victims on a daily basis that the police were just not resourced or equipped to deal with them all, let alone use kid gloves.
Toni’s heart went out to Lucille. She could imagine what it must be like to be kept in the dark and the frustration at not being able to find a resolution, or justice for her lover, her wife. So Toni eased up a little and took a more gentle approach in her questioning, but she needed to go through all the key details that Lucille had given her previously. She was not going to risk any more big surprises.
“One last thing,” Toni finally said. “Where were you the night Erika went missing?” She had asked this question before and honestly did not expect to get a different answer, but she had learnt in her years of interrogation that sometimes just a slightly different phrase or mindset could prove very revealing.
“I was away on business,” came the expected answer.
“Is ther
e anyone who can verify that? I promise I'll be discreet.”
Lucille took a few seconds to register the insinuation. “Ms Mendez, I hired you.” Lucille’s response was steely but she was seemingly unfazed. “I have nothing to hide! Erika and I were very happy.”
“You hired me to do my job, but I can't do it unless you're straight with me.”
“Well, if you think I did something to her, your reputation as a good PI is somewhat overstated.” Lucille got up and rounded her chair, placing her at the same height as Maxine. “You are not only barking up the wrong tree, Ms Mendez, you are wasting my time and money. I told you that you should be investigating that barbaric self-righteous Neanderthal, the Preacher, and his CUL, or the perverts that frequent that… that place! It is as much of an affront to our community as the CUL is to the human race.”
“The CUL?” Toni asked. “Why? Do you still think they had something to do with Erika’s death? They were cleared in the original investigation.”
Lucille scoffed. “That arrogant, conniving, self-righteous imbecile can get away with murder. Just because he claims the backing of the straight bigoted evangelical church, it does not mean I will let him get away with murder.”
Toni frowned, confused.
“Anthony McCarthy, the man who now calls himself the Preacher, has had a vendetta against the LGBTQIA community, and specifically me, since we were at Oxford together. I would not be surprised if he had Erika killed to get to me, both politically and personally.”
“Has he ever threatened you?” Toni asked.
“Almost on a daily basis, Ms Mendez. You listen to any of his public rhetoric. It usually proposes how people like me should be ‘culled’. He also published a personal statement condemning my wedding to Erika on the day we converted our civil partnership to marriage.”
Toni nodded, making a mental note to find out more about Anthony McCarthy.
“Forgive me, Lucille, which ‘place’ were you referring to?” Maxine asked.
“The Vox, of course.”
Toni’s ears pricked up. “I thought that was one of the most exclusive Lesbian bars in London?”
“It used to be,” Lucille said. “Now it's nothing more than a debauched dive… with all its ‘sex positive’ immorality. We fought so long and hard for marriage and respect all these years. Then along comes a place like that to undermine everything we have worked for, in a blink of an eye, because now they want ‘free sex’, ‘polyamorous relationships’ and to be ‘non-binary’.” Her disgust dripped from each word.
“I still don’t quite follow,” Toni said.
“Erika and I used to go there for a romantic night out—drinks and to dance.” A small nostalgic smile crept across Lucille’s usually stoic features.
“It was lovely… a safe haven… romantic even.”
Lucille visibly changed, pulling her shoulders back and lifting her chin. “Then it got sold and the new management ‘modernised’ it.” Her face contorted again with barely restrained disgust. “Now it's a perverted sweatshop for all sorts. The stuff that goes on in there,” she shook her head, “is an abomination, a disgrace to what we as a gay and lesbian culture have been fighting for. I told Erika not to go but…”
“But, she still went?” Toni clarified.
Lucille nodded.
“And I assume you did not go with her?” Toni said.
Lucille shook her head.
Toni noticed a single tear making it’s way down Lucille’s cheek but, no sooner had it appeared, before it was swiftly wiped away with a deft thumb.
“Can you tell us who she went to The Vox with?” Maxine asked.
There was a long pause before Lucille shook her head.
Toni thought she recognised guilt flashing across Lucille’s features.
“No. I was determined to have as little to do with that place as possible. I thought I was doing the right thing. I told her, if she wanted to go there, there was nothing I could do. I could not stop her. But I didn’t want to hear anything about it.” Lucille’s voice broke.
In that moment Toni was struck by how vulnerable Lucille looked. Regardless of her power, her money and her tough exterior, she was after all just a girl in love—a girl abandoned. Toni wanted to offer her some comfort. She wanted to say there was no way that Lucille could have known that something this awful was going to happen, that it will get better. But, she was not sure it would.
Lucille pulled herself together. “Now, Ms Mendez, if you will excuse me, my business does not run itself.” Instantly the vulnerable woman was gone and the steely successful business person and politician Toni knew had returned. “Either you take the case and find out who killed my Erika or, be frank, so I can go find someone else who will.”
Toni considered the abrupt change she had just witnessed and reminded herself that she still had no concrete proof of Lucille’s innocence. Could this hard, cold side of Lucille be capable of murder—of murdering her wife?
“Lucille,” Toni got up and stood face to face with her. “I gave you my word, I will find out who did this to Erika.”
Lucille studied her for a long moment and then glanced at Maxine. Seemingly satisfied with Toni’s sincerity and commitment she nodded.
“Please let yourselves out. I have work to do,” she said before she strutted out of the room.
Outside Lucille’s house, Toni picked up her phone and called Lawrence.
“Hi. Please can you find out everything about Lucille Ransom-Evans for me…. Yes, I want to know everything, business and personal, down to when she bought her last set of knickers, if you can…. Yes, as always, the sooner the better…. Specifically find out where she was on the night that Erika was murdered. And secondly, can you do a complete search on an Anthony McCarthy…. Yes, ‘the Preacher’…. Ok, Thanks.”
She rang off.
“I think we need to go check out The Vox and find out who Erika hung out with,” Maxine said.
“Leave that to me,” Toni said adamantly.
“Look, Toni I know how to do my job.” Maxine’s frustration was clear. “I have interviewed people before—”
“Maxine, those people will not talk to the police. That is evident from the thin witness statements they got before. And let’s face it, you reek of cop! Let me handle this.”
“And you don’t smell of cop?” Maxine, threw her hands up into the air.
Toni ignored the dig and got into the car.
Lizbeth watched Toni pacing in front of her desk. She loved Toni but she had to admit she was a little like a spoilt child sometimes, especially when she did not get her own way.
“What is the problem,” Toni asked, frustratedly running her hand through her hair. “I promise it'll be perfectly safe. Lawrence will be right outside.”
“Why can't he go with you?” Lizbeth made a point of keeping her voice calm.
“After what happened to our vic, strangers, especially straight looking men, arouse suspicion—attention we do not need.”
Lizbeth should have known that something like this was bound to happen. “Does Lawrence know what you're asking me to do?” she asked, a little surprised that Lawrence had not intervened.
“Yes, but I convinced him you won't mind helping us out.”
Under normal circumstances that would have been absolutely true, Lizbeth thought. “What about your new colleague, Detective Bennett? Can't she do it?”
“Quite frankly, I'd rather drink bleach,” came the acerbic response.
Lizbeth tried to think of some other solution, but for the life of her nothing came to mind. She now had no other choice.
“What?” Toni asked more than a little impatient.
Lizbeth considered how to handle this. She took off her glasses and folded them, partly stalling, partly to alleviate the dull ache behind her eyes.
“It was not only a school-girl crush,” she finally said with resignation.
“What?” Toni’s face contorted in confusion.
Lizbeth took
a deep bracing breath.
“Toni, I am gay… One of ‘those girls’… a lesbian… a dyke—”
“Okay, okay! Stop saying that!” Toni protested, “You're not!”
Lizbeth sensed the question in the otherwise stern assertion. She nodded gently hoping Toni would get her head around this truth and make it easier on both of them. However, something in her had obviously doubted Toni could do that, hence she had waited almost three years before trying to come out to her.
“But you're my best friend.” Toni said. “I would know—”
“No.” Lizbeth focussed on keeping her voice calm and reassuring. “I know. And I kept it from you.” For years she had struggled with the guilt from keeping such a key part of her life hidden from the one person she wanted to share it with more than anyone else.
“But we've slept in the same bed,” Toni said, a frown lining her forehead.
“We have,” Lizbeth gave a little sardonic laugh. “I just prefer women. I can control myself. I’m not a nymphomaniac.” Why was it people always want to reduced something as complex as sexuality into something black and white, she thought.
“Besides, you're not my type,” Lizbeth added in an attempt to lighten the mood.
Toni started pacing once more, her hand now almost permanently entangled in her long hair.
“Calm down. It's not the end of the world,” Lizbeth said. “I just needed you to know in the unlikely event someone recognises me and it becomes awkward.” Lizbeth had to conceded that that was indeed very unlikely since she’d hardly been out on the scene at all during the past few years.
“Awkward!” Toni said like the concept was alien to her. After a few moments she continued. “So have you got a—”
“Girlfriend? No, not at the moment.”
“Have you, you know,” Toni gestured between them, “since we…”
“Have I seen anyone since we became friends?” Lizbeth helped her out. “Yes, Toni, I have seen at least a couple of people in the last three years. Did you think you were the only one who occasionally got lucky?”
