Avaline Saddlebags

by Netta Newbound

  “They were both transgender women. That’s your common denominator right there. It’s obviously somebody with a grudge against the transgender community. Especially attaching a prosthetic dick to them both. That’s premeditated. Somebody took the time to get their hands on those things. It’s not as if you can find them in every corner pound shop.”

  I ordered two shandies and then headed to a quiet table where we could size up the room.

  “Give me a minute, I need to pee,” she said.

  I watched as Layla walked to the other end of the bar and into the toilets.

  Feeling conspicuous, and unsettled, I dug in my pocket for my phone and dialled the station. Will answered.

  “Will, it’s me.”

  “Hey, boss.”

  “The autopsy results should be in now. We’ve just left Lauren and she suspects we’re dealing with a serial killer,” I whispered.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah and he’s a sick fucker. Wait till you see the details. Don’t look at the images on a full stomach.”

  “That bad?”

  “Brutal. Gina Elliot spent Friday night in Dorothy’s—the same place Jade Kelly was last seen alive. Could you check out the CCTV cameras in the area, see if you can pick anything up between here and Cavendish Crescent on Friday night?”

  “Leave it with me, boss. I’ve been doing a bit of digging too. The GPS on Gina’s phone pinged several times on Friday. It looks like she was in the bar till just before midnight and then the phone was on the move at a walking pace. The last ping was recorded at 2:17am on Saturday morning at Columbus Quay.”

  “That’s fantastic. You should easily be able to find something on the CCTV there, especially now you have the exact time. Great work, Will.”

  “Hope so, and thanks. I’ll let you know.”

  I ended the call as Layla slid onto the seat opposite and filled her in on what Will had said while we sipped our drinks.

  “So, what now?” she asked.

  “Do you want to try to schmooze the barmaid? She’s not taken her eyes off you since we arrived.”

  “Me?” Layla replied, shocked. “I’m straight!”

  “So what? She doesn’t need to know that.”

  She rolled her eyes and got to her feet.

  I handed her the photo Mr Elliot had given me and followed behind.

  “Hello.” The barmaid winked at Layla.

  I pressed my lips together, highly amused.

  Layla opened her wallet showing her warrant card. “I wonder if you can help me.”

  “Dunno about that. Depends.” She eyed us suspiciously.

  “Do you recognise this woman?” Layla placed the photo on the bar.

  “Yes. I know her—she’s a regular. What of it?”

  “Do you recall seeing her on Friday night?”

  “Nah. I was working, but the place was heaving. We have Drag Queen Cabaret every Friday night. What’s this about?”

  “We’ll need to access your CCTV.”

  She nodded. “Good luck with that.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll need to speak to Chris Turner. He’s the manager. Has something happened to her?”

  Layla shot me a quick look before nodding. “I’m afraid she was murdered after leaving here on Friday.”

  The barmaid gasped. “Jesus Christ!”

  “Exactly,” Layla said.

  “That’s the second one, isn’t it? Is it a serial killer?”

  “It’s early days,” I piped up. “And we’d appreciate you keeping it under your hat for now.”

  “Here’s my number in case you think of anything we should know.” Layla handed her a card.

  Once we were out of earshot, I nudged her in the ribs. “Thought you were straight?”

  “I am!” she hissed.

  “Tell that to your admirer, she thinks she’s on a promise.”

  “Sod off. No, she doesn’t.”

  “How much do you want to bet she’ll ring you before the weekend?”

  I opened the door and indicated for Layla to go ahead of me.

  She bobbed under my arm and smacked straight into the barman from earlier who was on his way back inside. “Sorry,” she said, bending to help pick up the pile of leaflets he’d dropped.

  I picked a couple up too and the brightly coloured image on the front caught my eye.

  CALLING ALL DRAG QUEENS

  Are you Liverpool’s fiercest Drag Queen?

  Is your lip-syncing worthy of an encore?

  Do you have the sass to become our most

  FAB-U-LOUS of performers?

  If you answered yes, then get ready to lip-sync for your mother-tucking life.

  WE NEED YOU TO AUDITION!

  Where? Dorothy’s Function room

  When? Thursday between 9 and 11pm

  “Fancy applying?” The barman winked at me.

  “No. Not for me, mate.” I handed the leaflet back to him.

  “Keep it.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me. “You might change your mind, you’re certainly pretty enough.”

  I felt my cheeks heat up and couldn’t help but notice Layla’s beaming grin.

  “See you Thursday, perhaps.” The barman blew me a kiss before vanishing through the door.

  Three

  Layla continued to tease me all the way back to the station.

  “You could so do it, though. I could see you in a massive wig with a face full of makeup, fluttering your eyelashes.” She howled laughing.

  “I see your earlier black mood has lifted—at my expense, might I add.”

  “You’ve got to admit, the thought of you in a frock is pretty funny.”

  I shook my head but could feel a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

  “Guys, I think I’ve found something.” Will waved his hand at us as we breezed into the open office. He and Joanna were seated at the same desk.

  “What is it?” I said.

  Layla and I rushed over to them.

  “Based on the GPS info from Gina’s phone, I checked CCTV footage and there’s a white Transit van that appeared at both crime scenes.” Will turned the screen slightly for us to see the grainy image.

  “Really? And?”

  “We were able to make out the number plate, but it’s been deregistered.”

  “Who was the last registered owner?”

  “A Greg Martin, from Southampton. I’ve contacted Hedge End station and they’re looking into it for us.”

  “Okay, great. Could you see the driver at all?”

  Layla straddled a chair and leaned forward.

  “Nothing in the first one but we managed to get this off the second.” He opened another screen which showed a pixelated image of a slim guy dressed in black with a cap pulled down low covering his face.

  “Oh, that’s a waste of bloody time then,” Layla said, irritably.

  I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. “I feel like he’s taking the piss out of us.”

  “That’s what Savage thought,” Joanna said.

  “I need to read Savage’s notes. I would’ve done it last week, but we thought the murder had been a one off and I had it on my to do list this week anyway.”

  “Tell me about it,” Will said. “We had absolutely nothing to go on and had come to the conclusion it was a random murder.”

  “Are you up to date on the case, Layla?” I asked.

  “Mostly, but I’ll go through everything again with you if you like? It can’t hurt.”

  “Great. I’ll just go and catch up with the DCI. Fancy making me a cuppa?”

  “What did your last slave die of? Oh, sorry—she didn’t die, did she? When’s the baby due?” was Layla’s snarky reply.

  “Don’t worry, boss. I’ll make you one,” Joanna offered, heading to the staffroom.

  “Will, could you contact Dorothy’s and get hold of a copy of their CCTV footage from Friday night? The manager is called Chris Turner.”

  “On it, boss.”
/>
  I headed up the corridor, knocked on the glass door and waited for Janine to beckon me in.

  “How did you get on, Dylan?” she asked.

  I filled her in on the morning’s events. I knew Savage didn’t always give her a blow by blow account, but it felt right to ease myself in gently.

  “And no-one saw her leave the club?”

  “Her friend, Felicity, told us she’d left Gina at the club with a crowd of their mates, but she didn’t know their full names. Will’s getting onto the manager of the club now as he wasn’t there earlier. Will also discovered a Transit van on the CCTV close to where each of the victims were found but sadly it’s not registered to anybody. We’ve got Southampton checking out the previous owners for us.”

  She nodded and got to her feet. “Yeah, Will told me earlier. We need to get into the bar when it’s busy and find out who the last to see her alive was. Somebody must’ve seen something.” She walked out with me and we went into the staffroom.

  “You want a coffee, Janine?” Joanna asked, reaching for another mug.

  “Would love one, thanks, Jo.”

  Moments later, both Will and Layla joined us.

  “I’ve left a message for the manager. If I’ve not heard anything in an hour, I’ll head over there,” Will said.

  “Did Dylan tell you what he intends to do on Thursday?” Layla handed Janine the leaflet from the bar.

  I rolled my eyes and glanced at Will who was already laughing—Layla must’ve told him.

  “Really?” Janine said.

  Joanna sat down and leaned over to read the leaflet too.

  “No, not really!” I shook my head in mock disgust.

  “I think it would be awesome.” Layla winked at me. “An undercover cop stroke drag queen. You could call yourself Juliette Bravo.”

  “Ho, ho, ho. So funny I forgot to laugh.” I glared at her.

  “You know, it’s not such a bad idea,” Janine said.

  “You are joking—aren’t you?”

  “Lauren Order,” Will cut in, laughing openly now.

  “Hansy Kuffs,” Layla said, having full on banter now at my expense.

  “Cunt Stubble,” Joanna said, trying to stifle a giggle.

  “Now that’s a good one,” Janine said, giving her a high five.

  “Don’t encourage them,” I said.

  “I’ve heard you’re a gambling man, Dylan. Is that right?” Janine continued.

  I shrugged. “Depends on the odds.”

  “You got a quid on you, Will?”

  Will rummaged in his chinos and handed her a pound coin.

  “Okay. We’ll flip for it.” Janine balanced the coin on her forefinger and poised her thumb ready to flip it.

  “For what?” I said, my voice raised a few octaves.

  “Heads you audition, tails Will does.”

  “Piss off! I’m not bloody doing it!” Will jumped to his feet.

  It was my turn to laugh. “Come on, Will. You’d make a lovely woman. I have a couple of drag queen mates who can give you some makeup tips.” I couldn’t help but take the piss. He deserved it.

  Janine flipped the coin and it spun in the air, then she caught it and slapped it onto the back of her hand.

  She revealed the coin and Will let out a sigh. “Thank Christ for that,” he said.

  “Heads it is!” Janine laughed. “You’d better contact your mates for those makeup tips, Dylan.”

  “I’m not doing it!” I said, still adamant.

  “Oh, yes, you are. We’ve got a killer to catch.”

  Four

  Seated at my desk, I sifted through the stack of Savage’s files and found the one I was looking for close to the top.

  Layla appeared beside me. “Sorry. It was only a joke.”

  I ignored her and opened the folder.

  She pulled up a chair. “Read it out loud.”

  I sighed, more than a little pissed off with her. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.”

  “It was a joke, Dylan. How was I to know Janine would jump on the bandwagon?”

  “Whatever. You knew exactly what you were doing, and I don’t appreciate it, to be honest.” I turned back to the matter in hand. “Let’s get on with this, shall we? The first victim was twenty-eight-year-old Jade Kelly—born Jason Kelly in Birmingham. Jason moved to Liverpool with his mum after his dad died when he was fifteen. He had his gender reassignment surgery in Thailand three years ago. As Jade, she lived alone in a basement apartment in Liverpool, worked at John Lewis on the makeup counter and was last seen in Dorothy’s arguing with a man. According to witnesses she threw her drink over him. The man turned out to be her ex-boyfriend, Darren Wilkes. Why do I know that name?” I turned to my computer and tapped in his details.

  “He’s a convicted drug dealer—a right dodgy fucker who lives on Wapping Quay and drives a top-of-the-range Audi R8 Spyder,” Layla said, as Darren Wilkes’ image filled the screen.

  “Ah, yes. Now I remember, he’s got previous convictions for dealing in under-the-counter hormones and is notorious on the gay scene.”

  “I was present during his interview when Savage brought him in. He’s a nasty piece of work. But he had an alibi. He picked up someone by the name of Rebecca Preston after Jade stormed out of the bar, and she vouched for him.”

  “What had they been arguing about?” I asked.

  “We never really got to the bottom of it. He fobbed us off with some bullshit story, but the fact is he has a cast-iron alibi and we can’t touch him.”

  I returned to Savage’s file. “Jade was found in the early hours of Saturday morning approximately the same time as Gina was dumped in the water. She’d been beaten and dumped in the Mersey. Like this latest victim, a prosthesis was discovered during her autopsy, but Savage wasn’t convinced it had been placed there by the killer or if Jade was wearing it herself. He thought she might have regretted the surgery. But now we know the killer put it there to show he knew about her past.” I rubbed at my temples, feeling like my head was about to explode. “To me, the disrespect shown to the victims by the placing of a prosthesis is one of the most disturbing parts of both murders.”

  “What drew you to that conclusion?”

  “Let’s work on the assumption the killer knows his victims are transgender. With Jade he places the one thing on her she went through hell to get rid of, and with Gina, he goes one better and stitches the vaginal opening closed, then glues a prosthesis there. I believe our killer has a loathing for the transgender community, and if we can discover why, it might help us crack the case.”

  “I didn’t think of it like that,” Layla replied.

  “I might be wrong, but we also need to find out if we have anybody on file who was refused gender reassignment surgery.”

  “What good will that do?”

  “Our killer could be somebody who holds a grudge because he or she is still stuck in a body that repulses them.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But first things first. We need to get the team looking through historical cases involving attacks on transsexuals or transvestites in the area, and while my brain is in top gear, find out if anybody local sells these prosthetics, and if we get no leads, we need to try online stockists.”

  “That’ll take forever, Dylan. Plus, we don’t have the manpower.”

  “Then we all pull double shifts. Simple as.”

  “I’ve got kids at home.”

  “They’ve got a father, haven’t they?”

  “Woah! Hang on a minute.”

  I realized I’d gone too far considering our earlier conversation. “Layla, I’m sorry for overstepping the mark. Your personal life is none of my business, but there are two women lying dead in the morgue and that is my business, so we do what we have to before there’s another murder.”

  “We don’t know for sure there will be another.”

  “Come off it, Layla. You know better than that. There’ll be more, and right now he’s ten steps ahead of us.
” My head started to pound. “Clever little bastard didn’t leave a shred of DNA evidence, so we need to be exploring any avenue we can think of.”

  “Yeah—it’s bloody frustrating having nothing to go on.”

  “We have the Transit van. Let’s hope we get somewhere with that.”

  Later that afternoon, Will received a call from Chris—the manager of the bar.

  “Well?” I asked once he’d hung up.

  “He’s happy with us viewing the CCTV footage. I’ve arranged to call in there tomorrow morning.”

  “Great—heard anything about the van?”

  “No. Nothing. I’ll chase it up now.”

  I placed the last of Savage’s files in the cabinet. He didn’t have too many open cases and the ones he did have were common knowledge within the team so there was nothing I wasn’t up to date with apart from the Jade Kelly murder, which would make life a little easier.

  Layla and Joanna had left for the day. They were both family women and I figured once we got a few more leads we’d be working all hours, so I suggested they head off early.

  Closing my computer down, I stretched and yawned. I hadn’t climbed into bed until well after midnight and then received the call about Gina at the crack of dawn. I wouldn’t be up late tonight.

  Will hung up his phone and walked back over to my desk. “Apparently the van was scrapped after an accident. He had the receipt to prove it. He’s going to email a copy through to us. The scrap yard’s here in Liverpool.”

  “You beauty!”

  “I thought that might put a smile on your face,” he said.

  “Do you fancy heading over there now?”

  He looked at his watch. “It’s after five. I can try to call them—see if anybody’s there?”

  “Nah. Not likely, to be honest. I’ll go with Layla in the morning.”

  “Fancy a pint to celebrate your first full day as DI?” Will asked, shrugging into his jacket.

  “I would, mate, but I told Bella I’d take her a Chinese takeaway. She’s fed up.”