by Daniel Hurst
I keep watching him as he quaffs his champagne and ogles the waitresses passing by his table, and I wonder if this is the extent of Michael’s extracurricular activities or if he partakes in more than simply watching. Knowing the prominent position he holds at the bank, a man like him being seen to be engaging in tawdry behaviour would not be a good look as far as the customers are concerned. At a time when many people around the country are struggling to pay their bills, the last thing they want is to see their bank manager throwing money away like confetti. And a public outcry is the last thing a bank’s board members and shareholders want either. But while this is hardly a classy establishment, sitting at a table drinking champagne and having a laugh with a bunch of dirty old men in front of a stripper’s pole is not exactly going to be the kind of thing powerful enough to ruin his reputation and force his employer to terminate his contract. I need to see him doing something else, something worse.
Preferably, something illegal.
I wonder where Michael’s line is when it comes to right and wrong. I know he doesn’t care about doing the wrong thing in the workplace, but what about outside the office where there are other temptations and vices to be indulged? I find it hard to believe that a man like him doesn’t push the boundaries in his personal life when he so obviously likes to push them in his professional one. The trick will be to keep watching him and waiting for him to do something that he shouldn’t outside of work hours, where he has no idea that I am watching him. If I can obtain evidence, ideally in the form of videos or photos, then I could leak them and give his bosses something to worry about.
Drugs. Prostitution. God knows what else. I wager that Michael is into it all, regardless of his job and the fact that he is married. I just need to keep watching him until he engages in something he really shouldn’t be engaging in, and then I will have him.
And best of all, this time, he really won’t know it was me who was after him because we’re not in his office now, and there are no hidden cameras of his in a place like this. We are in the wild here, far away from desks and computers and HR managers. It’s obvious to me now that I was never going to be able to defeat him in our professional territory. But I can defeat him away from it, in these dark clubs with all these dark corners, where the only thing he is worried about is where the next drink is coming from and when the next dancer is taking to the stage.
I know it’s only a matter of time until he does something illegal, if not here, then in some other secretive club beneath the streets of this town.
When he does, I will be watching.
And I will be recording.
27
MICHAEL
I go to lots of different clubs in lots of different parts of town, but the one I am on my way to tonight is my absolute favourite. Unlike the venue I spent last night in, a standard strip club beneath an alleyway with a gnarly guard on the door, this one is anything but standard.
This one is very much unique.
But I’m not here by myself tonight. I’ve brought my mate Duncan along, and I’m slightly envious of him this evening because, unlike me, this is going to be his first time in an establishment like this one.
‘I’m telling you, mate, you are in for a treat tonight,’ I say as we step out of the taxi and make our way across the rain-soaked street. ‘Once you’ve been in here, you won’t be able to resist coming back again and again.’
‘I certainly hope so,’ Duncan tells me as he avoids a large puddle and makes it safely to the other side of the street with me. ‘I’ve had to tell my wife I’m working late again, and I’m going to pay for that when I get home, so this had better be worth it.’
‘Oh, trust me. It is.’
We walk on down the street while doing our best to avoid making eye contact with the homeless people sitting in some of the doorways that we pass. It’s a mild evening, but I’d still rather be heading indoors somewhere warm than spending my night out here like these unfortunate people. Fortunately, Duncan and I don’t have far to walk now before we arrive at our destination.
‘This way, sir,’ I say as I lead him off the main road and down a smaller side street.
‘I thought you said this place was classy,’ Duncan moans as he steps over a small bin bag that someone has carelessly left lying in the way. ‘So far, it looks no different to all the other places we go to.’
‘Appearances can be deceiving.’
‘Tell me about it. My wife looked great on our wedding day, but, boy, did she turn out to be a monster after I put a ring on her finger.’
I laugh at my friend’s joke as we carry on down the street, pleased to see that there are no more rubbish bags in our path. I’m also pleased that my wife is not as fearsome as Duncan’s is because if she were, then I would have to concede defeat and pay out for an expensive divorce. Thankfully, Crystal cares little for what I get up to in my own time. She doesn’t need me home for dinner every night, and she doesn’t ask me where I have been if I stay out late. She is happy as long as there is money on her credit card, and there always is because, just like her, I want an easy life.
‘Here we go,’ I say, clapping my hands together and rubbing them gleefully as we approach the tall building at the end of this dead-end street.
‘This is it?’ Duncan asks, obviously not impressed by the fading brickwork, blacked-out windows and lack of any member of staff to welcome us in on the door.
‘Yep, this is it,’ I say with a smile as I take out my wallet and remove the black card with the gold strip from within.
Duncan watches me as I hold the card against the electronic access panel on the wall, and a loud clicking sign indicates that my card has been accepted and the door lock has been released.
I pull open the heavy door and walk in, hearing Duncan’s footsteps padding behind me as we make our way down a carpeted corridor before climbing a staircase and reaching another door.
‘Well, at least the carpet is nice,’ Duncan murmurs as he looks around at our surroundings, and I laugh as I tap my card against the access panel to get through this door as well.
‘Just you wait to see what’s on the other side of this,’ I say as my card does the trick again, and we make our way into another room that only those lucky enough to possess a card like mine are able to frequent.
‘Oh my,’ Duncan says as he gets a glimpse of what I was talking about, and the pair of us stand still for a moment and appreciate the view.
There are women of all different ages, nationalities and persuasions wandering around this well-lit ballroom, each and every one of them looking for a man or woman to take behind one of the curtains that offer privacy for the VIP rooms, where nothing is off-limits.
And I do mean nothing.
In here, there are no rules, and you can do anything you want, for a price, of course. The drugs aren’t legal, nor are several of the young women wandering around in here, and that is why this isn’t just any old club.
It’s my favourite club.
‘So, what do you think?’ I ask my friend, although I think the fact that his mouth is hanging open in awe is a pretty good indication that he is impressed.
‘You weren’t lying, were you?’ Duncan says as he watches a brunette woman in a tiger costume lead two other plain-clothed women behind one of the many curtains in this place.
‘Welcome to Club Velvet,’ I say as I look around and nod my approval.
I love this place so much that I used to use the name of it in my password at work, or at least I did until Imogen obtained it and tried to get me fired. I have since changed my password, but my love for this place remains unaffected. I’ve been here many times before, and I’ll come here many times in the future. There is simply too much to sample here and not enough time to try it all.
‘Well, let’s not waste the evening,’ I say. ‘You might as well have some fun if your wife is already mad at you.’
Duncan cannot hide the big stupid grin on his face, and he doesn’t need any more encourage
ment than that, scurrying after a blonde woman in a nurse’s uniform before I can even tell him what kind of prices to expect in a place like this. But that doesn’t matter. Duncan earns a fortune in his job, just like I do in mine, and I seriously doubt his finances are going to be of much concern as I watch him disappear behind a curtain, grinning from ear to ear.
I am able to exercise a little more restraint considering I have been here before, so I make my way over to the bar and order myself a double whiskey before settling down into a luxurious leather armchair and admiring the many different views on offer. This place is so big that I haven’t even seen half of it since I started coming here, and there are several corridors that branch off from this main room, every single one of them leading to more rooms and more curtains.
Sipping my drink and feeling all the tension from another day in the office leaving my body, I decide it is time for me to venture down the fourth corridor because I’ve always wanted to see what was down there, and there is no time like the present.
Rising from my comfy seat, I carry my drink past several other thirsty patrons before reaching the doorway to the corridor and preparing to step inside.
If only I had looked back over my shoulder, I might have been able to stop what was about to happen. I might have seen the danger and been able to act before things got out of hand. But I didn’t.
I just kept walking.
That’s why I had no idea that Imogen had followed me in here until it was too late.
28
The way I followed Michael tonight didn’t differ from how I followed him last night. What did differ is how I looked while I was doing it.
Knowing now that my boss likes to frequent certain places with a certain clientele, I decided to make myself fit into my surroundings a little more as I continued to try to catch him in a compromising position. Instead of turning up to these places in my work clothes with my plain makeup and my unimaginative hair, I got more creative with my appearance, now wearing a dress that is slightly shorter than it should be, heels that are taller than they should be, and a wig that has transformed me from a dowdy brunette businesswoman into a bubbly blonde.
My new look serves two functions. One, it will make it easier for me to get into the kind of places my boss keeps going into so I can hopefully get some photographic evidence of any crimes on his part. And two, it makes it less likely he will recognise me in any of these places.
Having followed him to a standard strip club last night and now trailed him down a dead-end street this evening, I have seen him and a friend go into a building via the use of a key card that was clearly vital for anybody to make it past that point. The sign on the door stated that everybody needed a card to get in as well as featuring the message that both males and females were welcome at this venue. Obviously, I didn’t own such a card, and I had feared that my night was going to be over before it had really got going. But all it had taken was to think of everything Michael has ever done to me, as well as what he has done to poor Helen, suffering after her unjust dismissal last week, for me to stubbornly decide I wasn’t giving up that easily.
All I had to do was wait for another member of this club to come along so that I could enter the building with them.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, it hadn’t taken long for another depraved male member of society to turn up, and when he did, I made sure to play my part convincingly.
I acted tipsy, I acted flirtatiously, and I acted like I had just come out of this venue to make a phone call but had stupidly left my card inside.
The man bought my lies, or maybe he just wasn’t the type to say no to a damsel in distress, so he had tapped his card on the access panel, and now we were both inside.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ the man asks me as we make our way through a second door that also requires the use of a card before reaching a large ballroom that leaves me with little doubt as to what this place is all about.
I ignore the man’s offer and instead concentrate on trying to spot Michael in this busy place. And there he is, leaving the room and entering a corridor.
I instinctively go to follow him, but the man who got me in here isn’t letting me go that easily.
‘Hey, is that all I get for doing you a favour?’ he tries, and I realise I’d better lose this guy before he follows me around and makes things worse for me.
‘Get me a gin and tonic, and I’ll meet you over there,’ I say, gesturing to one of the empty tables in the corner, and the man seems happy enough with that plan because he hurries in the direction of the bar, probably thinking he might have just got lucky and won’t have to pay for female company tonight.
No sooner has he left my side than I am heading in the direction of where Michael just went, entering the corridor and seeing a series of curtains on both sides, stretching all the way down to a fire escape at the bottom.
Some of the curtains are pulled open, and they reveal nothing more than empty rooms with empty sofas and empty champagne flutes. I imagine it won’t be long until these rooms are occupied, and the only thing being emptied will be wallets. But it’s the rooms with closed curtains that interest me because I presume that Michael is behind one of these curtains, and who knows what he is getting up to out of sight of the general public.
I have to be extremely careful now not to be seen to be snooping in case a security guard spots me and throws me out, so I work cautiously, moving down the corridor and peering around the edges of the various curtains on the lookout for my seedy boss. Behind the first couple of curtains are nothing more than two sets of male and females, the women naked, the men less so, and plenty of money exchanging hands. The third curtain is more surprising, showing me three women and not a man in sight, and while it is very eye-opening, it’s still not helping me catch my boss.
Then I carefully peer around the edge of the fourth curtain, and it looks like I have found him.
And just as I suspected, he is up to no good.
I very slowly reach into my handbag and take out my mobile phone before raising the camera and taking several photos of him with his face over a dish full of white powder. Naughty, naughty. Class A drugs. The board members really aren’t going to like this one. I keep photographing as a topless woman wraps her arms around him and begins to kiss his neck as he takes out his wallet and hands her a roll of banknotes, but it’s not the act that shocks me so much as the woman he is paying.
If she is of legal age of consent, then I am the Queen’s mother.
My hands are shaking as I realise just how serious this is, and I feel like I can’t allow whatever is going on the other side of this curtain to take place. I don’t know who this woman is, or should I say girl, and I have no idea how she has ended up working here at her age, but this is not right.
I have to put a stop to it.
But how?
I look around the corridor and see the fire escape at the other end. On the wall beside it is a fire alarm. That’s it. I’ll break the glass and sound the alarm, and everybody will have to evacuate, which means Michael won’t be able to do whatever the hell he was going to do to this young girl. Then I’ll make my escape through the fire exit, and I’ll be gone without my boss ever knowing I was here.
But before I can put my phone away and go and do that, and with my head still peeking inside the curtain, I hear something I do not want to hear.
‘There you are! What are you doing? You’re not allowed to spy on people! We can go behind our own curtain if you want?’
It’s the guy who gave me access into this club, the same guy I tried to get rid of by telling him to go and buy me a drink. Now he has found me again. But that’s not the worst of it. His loud, drunken voice has shattered the peace in this quiet corridor and caused the two people behind the curtain I am spying on to look up suddenly.
That’s when Michael sees me peering around the edge of the curtain with my mobile phone pointing in his direction.
‘Hey!’ he cries as he pushes the young girl awa
y from him and scrambles towards me.
I have no idea if he has recognised me in my disguise or is simply furious that somebody would be trying to film him while he was in private, but either way, I keep a tight grip on my mobile phone as I start running down the corridor in the direction of the fire escape.
The man who bought me a drink is still calling after me, but it’s not his words that are filling me with fear as I burst through the fire door and out into the cool night air.
It’s Michael’s words as he continues to chase me.
He is calling out my name.
He has recognised me.
29
I’m in a different alleyway now to the one I entered the club on, but it’s just as dirty and just as quiet. I could do with more people around, pedestrians, car drivers, anybody who might be able to help me if Michael is successful in catching up with me. But there is nobody out here.
Just me and him.
I am running as fast as I can, but I’m not wearing the right footwear for a race, and even though I make it around one corner and onto another street, it doesn’t mean I am going to get away.
That’s when I lose my footing and feel a sharp shooting pain in my left ankle.
I cry as I lose my balance and almost topple over before looking down at my left shoe and seeing that the heel has snapped clean off.
I’m just about to take off my footwear and try running barefoot when I feel the hand on my arm that yanks me backwards and slams me into a wall.
‘What the hell do you think you are doing?’ Michael snarls, his face only inches from mine and his breath heavy with the smell of whiskey. ‘You’re following me? You really think that’s a good idea?’
