Avaline Saddlebags

by Netta Newbound

  I pulled up outside the Kelly’s home.

  “This won’t be pleasant,” Joanna said.

  “I know, but I really think it’s important and don’t just wanna turn up out of the blue. At least if they give me their blessing…”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “Then I’ll still go anyway and watch from the car.”

  We walked toward the front steps, but our arrival must have been noticed as Mr Kelly opened the door.

  “Who are you?”

  “Hi, I’m DI Dylan Monroe, and I am overseeing your daughter’s case. This is my colleague, DC Joanna Mason, I wondered if we might have a word with you and your wife?”

  Mr Kelly scrutinised our identification. “You better come in, but my wife is asleep in bed–losing Jade has hit her very hard.”

  “That’s understandable,” I replied as we followed him inside.

  He led us through to the kitchen. “Take a seat.” He gestured towards the chairs.

  “Thank you,”

  “Can I get either of you a drink?” he offered.

  “No thanks,” I replied.

  “Not for me,” Joanna added.

  “So, what can I do for you?”

  “I have been made aware Jade’s body has been released.”

  “Yes, we were advised late last night, and Jade was moved to Porter & Sons in Anfield this morning so we can finally start to make funeral arrangements.”

  “I know it must be a terrible time for you all, but I had something I wanted to ask.”

  “Go on.” He eyed me suspiciously.

  “Would you object if my partner and I came to the funeral?”

  “For what reason?”

  “Firstly, to pay our respects, and secondly, I believe Jade’s killer will show up. I’d like to see if I recognise any of the faces present.”

  “You really think whoever did that to my daughter will turn up?”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time, and I know how sad the occasion will be, but I want to do all I can to get this animal off the streets and make him pay for what he did to Jade and, of course, Gina Elliot.”

  “You do what you have to do as long as you remember where you are. I won’t relay any of this to my wife. She’s been through enough.” His eyes glistened with tears. “But if it helps get that bastard, you have my permission.” Tears leaked down his cheeks. “Just promise me you’ll catch whoever did this to my Jade.”

  I felt sick to my stomach.

  Two women had been brutally murdered and we had no evidence that could lead us to who the killer was.

  For anybody in my profession, it was soul destroying having no concrete leads to go on, but tonight, I had to focus on getting my performance spot on otherwise I’d be heckled off the stage by a load of vicious queens.

  I ordered a bunch of flowers and a couple of balloons for Bella and the baby on behalf of the team and picked them up after leaving the station. I headed over to Bella’s.

  Simon flung the door open and pulled me into a rough bear hug.

  I still held the flowers and balloons so stood there with my arms outstretched and a huge hunk of a guy wrapped around me. “Easy tiger.” I laughed.

  “Don’t panic, I haven’t switched teams.” He chuckled. "But I owe you big time.” He released me. “Come in, come in. Bella’s dying to see you.”

  “When did you get back?” I asked. “I thought you weren’t due till next week.”

  “This afternoon, I wanted to surprise everyone.” He ushered me inside.

  Bella was seated in the untidy living room with baby paraphernalia all around her. Gone was the spotlessly organised household and in its place was a scene of delicious chaos.

  “I don’t have long. Roy’s coming round to get me ready for tonight. Plus I need to rehearse.”

  “Ooh! Get you. You sound like a pro.”

  “I wish. But I’m really glad Roy’s taken me under his wing. His input is priceless.”

  “I told you years ago you’d love him.”

  “Yes, but not the way you intended.” I laughed, picturing the effeminate, balding man.

  “Shame. You two would get on like a house on fire and I’d get my dream wedding.”

  “You’ve had your dream wedding.”

  “Not for me, silly. I meant the dream wedding I’ve planned for you.”

  “Not happening, so get it out of your head.”

  She poked her tongue out at me.

  “Have you seen any more of Steve?”

  I nodded. “Last night.”

  “On a school night!”

  I goggled my eyes at her, nodding. “And he spooned me this morning.”

  “Oh, goody. I might get my dream wedding after all.”

  “Shut up and get your boob out of his face. I need a cuddle before I go.”

  Eighteen

  My stomach was in knots and I wasn’t sure I could go through with tonight’s performance. After arriving home, I’d practiced in the mirror for an hour and I looked ridiculous. There was one positive though; I’d finally mastered the heels.

  Roy flounced into my bedroom. “Are you okay, darling? You look a little peaky.”

  “Why the hell did I agree to this?”

  “You’ll give yourself wrinkles fretting so much. There’s nothing to worry about.” He placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “If you can visibly move that old witch, Blanche, you can win over a load of pissed up queens.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “I’m not saying it’s easy, but it’s not rocket science either. You know the words to the song, right?”

  “God, yeah, it’s one of those songs I couldn’t forget if I tried.”

  “Anything with a beat and they’ll proclaim you the second coming, so chin up, and boobs out.”

  “Boobs out.” I looked down and had to laugh. “This silicone breast plate weighs a bloody ton.”

  “They take some getting used to but make your silhouette more feminine. And besides darling, it moves the focus from your shoulders.” He appraised me once again. “You’ve got that manly, athletic frame, so anything you can lay your mitts on to make it convincing is a good thing in my book.”

  “I’m quite impressed with it though–these will look good under the frock.” I turned to look at it hanging from the door. A hot-pink sequinned number that I’d have to grease myself into. Thank fuck I wasn’t going to be padded out.

  “See,” Roy said, with a raised eyebrow. “You’re already thinking with a more feminine flair.”

  Shit, I thought. By the time this was over with, I wouldn’t know if I was Arthur or Martha. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Well, I am, and I’ve seen a lot of drag queens over the years, some were fooking awful if I do say so myself, but something tells me you’ve got the makings of a good one.”

  “This is a one-off, remember.”

  “So you keep saying, darling, but I’m impressed, and that doesn’t happen often, trust me. You’ve mastered the heels, and you know what will look good for your body, if only you didn’t apply makeup like Ronald McDonald you’d be my perfect protégée.”

  I burst out laughing. “Cheeky fucker.” Surprisingly, I found myself liking Roy more and more. Not in a romantic sense, but he would make a great friend. That would teach me for judging people before getting to know them.

  “Does your man know about tonight?”

  “Christ, no,” I said. “And he’s not my man, not really.”

  “Do you like him?”

  “Yeah,” I answered.

  “Is he good in bed?”

  “Too right.”

  “And do you look forward to spending time with him?”

  I hadn’t thought of it before. “Erm, yeah, I do.”

  “Then he’s your man, so stop pissing about and sort yourself out. You know as well as I do it’s hard to find somebody decent nowadays.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, but let me get my Shania on, sort this ca
se out, then I can focus on my relationship.”

  “Bollocks to that, darling,” he replied. “You’ll always be working a case, so stop with the excuses.”

  I considered myself well and truly told off. “Yes, boss.”

  “Now, come on, let’s get that makeup of yours sorted out, and this time, pay attention to what I’m doing ‘cos I can’t always be here to wet nurse you.”

  “It’s a one-off, I keep telling you.”

  “Then you best hope you catch your killer.”

  I was hopeful, but what if he was right and tonight didn’t work out the way I’d planned it to. Shit, I thought. I could be strutting around Dorothy’s until this case was solved.

  “I might need your help, Roy. People trust you, including Blanche. Maybe you can ask a few questions behind the scenes?”

  “Ooh! Like your sidekick? I should’ve had my police woman outfit dry-cleaned, I could’ve gone in character with you as Cagney and me as Lacey.”

  “Thank fuck you didn’t.” I grinned.

  It was a nightmare getting into the car and getting out was even worse wearing the wig.

  In the end, I had to abandon it, and put it back into place once I arrived at the club.

  “Will this thing stay on?” I asked, nervously.

  “Don’t fling your head about and it’ll be fine.”

  “I’m lip syncing to Shania so I can’t exactly stand still.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got the wig glue here. If I have to, I’ll Sellotape it to your head.”

  That wasn’t a comforting thought, but we were already there, so it was too late to back out. Roy fixed my wig in the shadows at the back of the carpark.

  “Blanche told me to use the side entrance. It’s closest to the dressing room, apparently.”

  He gave me a final once over. “Perfect. I’ll see you inside when I get back. I’m going to get my glad rags on.” Roy kissed the tip of his finger and placed it on my lips. “Break a leg, darling.”

  “Thanks, Roy, for everything.”

  “My pleasure, now get in there and knock ’em dead.”

  It was now 10pm. I banged on the metal security door and a burly guy with a shaved head pushed it open.

  “Name,” he growled, holding onto a clipboard like I was asking for entrance to the backstage area of Wembley Arena.

  “Avaline Saddlebags,” I replied, feeling a right tit saying it to a complete stranger.

  He looked up and down the list. “Oh, yeah, there you are. Straight down the corridor and turn left. The other girls are already here.”

  “Thank you.”

  He tapped me on the arse as I slid past him. I could feel his gaze lingering on my rear. “No problem, sugar tits.”

  I cringed. Bella’s words came back to haunt me. A cock in a frock, I thought. Gross.

  Feeling like a lamb leading itself to the slaughter, I turned the corner as the dressing room door opened. A man rushed out of the room and immediately my curiosity was piqued. I was certain it was Darren Wilkes, but wouldn’t testify to that in a court of law, having only seen him for a split second before he vanished down another corridor. If it was him, what was he doing back here with the talent? And how the hell was I going to make sure he didn’t recognise me?

  Pulling my phone out of my matching sequined clutch bag, I found the WhatsApp group the team had set up.

  Darren Wilkes sighted backstage

  -the last thing I need. If it looks like he

  recognises me, arrest him.

  Will replied, Gotcha, boss.

  I stood at the dressing room door and took a deep breath. Pushing it open, a room full of heavily made-up faces stared blankly back at me. The place reeked of cigarette smoke and a thick fog hung in the air. So much for not smoking in public places.

  “Hi,” was all I could think of to say. But I was met with a wall of silence, making me feel even more out of my depth. Pushing through, I found an empty seat towards the rear of the room and switched the fan at my dressing table on full.

  Sitting in this dress wasn’t easy, but if I pulled it up a touch, I could just about slide my arse into the canvas chair.

  “Eh, love,” one of the queens glowered at me. “Turn that friggin’ thing down will ya. I’m trying to sort this wig out and your fan’s blowing at me like Hurricane bloody Katrina.”

  The other queens laughed.

  “Good one, Mayday,” someone else said.

  I was more intrigued by the name. “Mayday–that’s unusual,” I piped up.

  “It’s ‘cos she’s always going down,” another of the queens cackled.

  “Piss off, you old horse.”

  And they were off with the banter. This was the reason drag queens had always terrified me. So quick was their wit, most people didn’t stand a chance. I decided to keep out of it until another approached me waving a piece of paper.

  “Here, girl,” a half made up queen said, handing me the paper. “This tells you when you’re due on stage.”

  “Oh, thank you,” I replied, raising my voice to something less manly. Glancing at the list and seeing my name at the bottom made my stomach flip. Shit, I was closing the whole thing. “I’m Avaline, by the way.”

  “Oh, we wondered who you were. You’re new, ain’t ya?”

  “Tonight is my first ever stage performance.”

  “And you’re starting out here and closing the show? Who did you bend over for to get that slot?”

  “I just auditioned.”

  She pursed her bright red lips and looked me up and down. “I see.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “I’m Anna Bortion.”

  I wish I hadn’t asked. “Nice…” I replied, not knowing what else to say. “Original.”

  “Who did your face?”

  “I did it myself.”

  “Very impressive for a drag virgin.”

  “YouTube taught me all I know.”

  “Hmmm.”

  I decided I should keep my mouth shut because she clearly didn’t believe a word I said. “Anyway, it’s been good to chat, but I need to get myself ready.”

  “You know you don’t need to hole yourself up in here, don’t you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can go into the club and mingle, just use the lockers over there to store your personal stuff. It can get pretty boring waiting back here, and as long as you’re back ten minutes before showtime, nobody cares.”

  “Thanks.” I didn’t like the idea of milling around back here. It was hot, and stank of stale cigarettes, plus, the less I had to say, the better, and as much as I didn’t want to go out on to the club floor looking like this, especially with Will and Layla in attendance, it would be the wisest thing to do. “I think I’ll do that–see you later.”

  “Hmmm,” she said once more before slinking away.

  Five minutes later, I stepped carefully down the steps at the side of the stage into a packed club.

  Darren Wilkes was the first person I spotted, propping up the bar, talking and gesticulating wildly to a small blonde woman. So it had been him backstage. As much as I disliked him, I could see the attraction–that sexy, thuggish look he sported so well suited him. But who was he talking to? I decided to take a closer look, but as I approached, he turned and headed for the main doors.

  I stood in his place. “Hi,” I said. “How are you?”

  “Hiya, love,” the petite blonde said, turning to smile. “I’ve not seen you in here before.” She had the most beautiful of faces, just like a china doll. Once again, the deep voice gave her away and I guessed she was pre-op. I wondered why she had been talking to Wilkes. Was he up to his old tricks and dishing out black market hormones again?

  “First night tonight,” I said. “I’m terrified.”

  “You’ll be fine–you’re bloody gorgeous.”

  “Thanks, so are you. I’m Avaline.”

  “Good to meet you. I’m Kimberley.”

  “Was that your fella
you were talking to? He’s hot.”

  “Fuck, no, that’s Darren. You’ll soon find out he has a thing for trannies, cock or no cock. Steer clear of him, love, he’s bad news.”

  “Sounds like you’ve been on the wrong side of him before?”

  “A while ago, he sold me some pills, you know the type, and I got myself into a bit of debt and had to pay him off the old fashioned way. He was like a bloodhound—relentless. I was glad to see the back of him. He disappeared for a while but lately he’s made a bit of a comeback.”

  I was chancing my luck. “You don’t think he had anything to do with those murders do you?”

  Kimberley leaned in and whispered, but the din of the music made it hard for me to hear what she was saying. “Wouldn’t surprise me to be honest. Darren’s got an evil streak and would think nothing of pulling a knife or giving somebody a back hander. God help anybody who crosses him.”

  My blood boiled. We needed to get him off the streets. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “I’ve been fucked by worse to be honest, plus he has a massive cock and is good in the sack, but once I’d paid my debt off, the best thing to do was give him a wide berth. He wanted a hook up tonight, you know, for old time’s sake, but I told him to piss off.”

  “Good for you.” I liked her. She was gutsy. I just hoped Wilkes kept his distance. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “That’s kind of you. I’ll have a rum and coke.”

  I nodded to the barman, but he’d heard her anyway. I wasn’t having anything to drink, especially if it contained alcohol. “You’re helping to settle my nerves so it’s a small price to pay.”

  “What time are you on?”

  “Midnight.”

  “Oh, you’re the closing act?”

  “Yeah, so I believe.”

  “Then you must be bloody good.”

  “Or the rest on tonight’s bill are shite.” My stomach dropped. I hadn’t realised I was topping the bill. Maybe I was just the best of a bad lot.

  She laughed. “What song are you miming to?”

  “Man! I Feel Like a Woman.”

  “This lot will love that.”