Simone Kirsch 02 - Rubdown

by Leigh Redhead

  Tony’s car phone rang and he put on a headpiece and answered. I slipped my palm onto Sean’s leg and he rested his hand on mine. Outside a man in a beanie and Richmond footy scarf was walking a dog through Olympic Park. The trees were spindly and had lost almost all their leaves.

  Tony hung up the phone. ‘That was Dahlia, the girl I know from Daily Planet. She has some information on Wade.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Won’t say over the phone.’

  ‘When are you going to see her?’

  ‘I’m not. She wants to see you. Read about you in the paper last year.’

  ‘Where do I meet her?’

  Tony was silent for a second. I leaned between the seats and saw he was smiling. ‘She’ll only meet you at work. You’ll have to make an hour booking and go up to the room.’

  ‘Can I come too?’ asked Sean.

  When Tony dropped us at the hotel the family next door were checking out, packing up their station wagon. The husband’s eyes opened wide and his wife’s mouth pursed as she hurriedly strapped the two kids into the car. At our room I reached into my bag for the key.

  ‘See her face?’ I asked.

  ‘She can obviously tell I’m a hard-arse cop who doesn’t play by the rules and you’re the filthy little crack-whore I screw on the side.’

  ‘I love it when you talk dirty.’

  Still method acting, Sean spun me about and pushed me against the door, lifted my leg around his waist and put his hand up my top. When he bit my neck the smell of his cologne induced a sort of Pavlov’s dog reaction and my knees went weak. I looked over his shoulder and saw the wife hitting her husband, screaming at him to drive. Grabbing Sean’s butt to freak her out a bit more, I felt something metallic in his back pocket, slid my fingers in and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The wagon took off in a shower of gravel.

  I dangled the cuffs between us. ‘What are these for?’

  ‘Thought I might have had to restrain the suspect.’

  ‘Be a shame for them to go to waste.’

  He snatched the handcuffs off me and clamped one round my wrist. The cold steel squeezing my skin brought a lump to my throat and a moistness to my silver hotpants.

  I said, ‘You know how the symbol for Virgo is the virgin?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ His voice was throaty and he had his knee between my legs.

  ‘Kind of false advertising, don’t you think?’

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The Daily Planet was opposite Elsternwick railway station, across the road from the shiny new apartments and shops that had sprouted out of the old station car park.

  The big blue building had a globe of the world stuck to its façade, with a radio antenna and a couple of lightning bolts, just like in the Superman comics. I’d had a few champagnes at the Elsternwick Hotel and left a disappointed Sean in the public bar while I clopped up the road in my spike heeled boots. Not knowing quite what a girl wore to a brothel if she wasn’t in fact working there, I’d eventually settled on the tight knee length snakeskin skirt, black top and my beloved brown suede coat.

  I actually looked forward to Melbourne winters just so I could swan around in it.

  I rubbed my wrist where the handcuffs had left a small purple bruise. Just thinking about being chained to the bed while Sean had his evil way got me worked up again. I could go without rooting, if I had to, but once I started getting it I could think of little else. I shook my head. I had an appointment in a brothel.

  This was no time to be thinking about sex.

  I pushed open the heavy wooden door and walked into a small marble reception area. The front desk sat behind a glass wall and the receptionist smiled when she saw me. She looked part Indian, with close cropped black hair, a pixie face and large brown eyes.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘My name’s Simone. I have an appointment with Dahlia for seven.’

  ‘Certainly.’ She asked me for a hundred and twenty dollars to cover the house fee and gave me a yellow receipt. I wondered if I could claim it on tax and made a mental note to ask Tony. ‘Dahlia won’t be long. I’ll get Jessica to show you through.’

  A door to the right of the desk clicked open and a girl with a black bob and a fringed blue dress said hello. I followed her down a hallway lined with pictures of models in bodypainted AFL uniforms and wondered if there was a shop somewhere in Melbourne that specialised in ‘brothel art’.

  We turned left at an old fashioned red phone box next to a fake tree with small white leaves, and entered a lounge area. Through an archway I saw a room with pool tables, computer games and a jukebox. We turned right and went down a few steps into a sunken bar. Round tables dotted the room, surrounded by low armchairs upholstered in red and blue fabric. The walls were decorated with plaster columns and painted in trompe l’oeil style, creating the illusion of a formal garden in a French country manor. A few men sat around talking to women in evening wear.

  On one wall a huge screen played a porn movie that seemed to have been inspired by Gladiator, although I couldn’t recall the scene where Russell Crowe had group sex in the Coliseum with a bunch of surgically enhanced wenches in vine leaves and gold sandals.

  The lighting was low, reddish and the music Dido. I sat at the black and white marble bar next to an Italian coffee machine and Jessica offered me a drink.

  ‘What’s the strongest thing you’ve got?’

  ‘Light beer.’

  ‘Bring it on.’ I drank quickly, hoping it would have some effect.

  Not that I had anything to be nervous about. I was just going to go into the room, ask a bunch of questions and leave. Still, when a cultured voice said my name and I swivelled around, I felt like a clammy eighteen year old about to get his cherry popped.

  ‘I’m Dahlia.’ She wore a fire-engine red dress split on one side to reveal a pale, curvy thigh. Long auburn hair highlighted with gold framed her heart shaped face. She had the most enormous blue eyes I’d ever seen, with long curved lashes.

  ‘Nice to meet you.’ The skin on her small white hand was cool and soft. I guessed she was five four but her clear Perspex heels bought her an extra three inches and we stood face to face.

  ‘Just this way.’

  I followed her down a hallway, up some stairs and down another hall.

  ‘What a rabbit warren. How many rooms?’ I asked.

  ‘Eighteen.’

  ‘Why so many when most brothels are only allowed six?’

  ‘Daily Planet was around before prostitution was legalised and I think they got some sort of special dispensation to operate.’

  Sue showed me into a room with Xanadu marked on the door and collected a further hundred and twenty dollars off me. A large round spa was flanked by columns and she turned on the taps, said she’d be back shortly and left the room. I nicked into the en suite rubdown bathroom, peed, and came out and sat on the bed. It was a four poster number covered in red fabric brocaded with gold, matching pillows at the head. Mirrors lined the walls and ceiling and a pyramid of yellow towels balanced on a chair.

  Dahlia came back and checked the water level in the spa. She let the taps run, leaned on the marble edge and smiled at me. ‘I’ve always been curious to meet you.’

  ‘Me? Why?’

  ‘I read about you in the paper when you saved your friend.

  Stripper turned private investigator. You took on that cop and the gangster. Very brave.’

  ‘Not brave, just desperate, kind of like now. Tony said you could tell me about Emery Wade.’

  ‘Let’s have a spa first.’ She kicked off her shoes, stood in front of me and peeled off her dress. She unclipped a red lace bra, slid down a matching G-string and laid the lot over the back of a chair.

  She had lush, womanly breasts and, judging by her pubes, the auburn hair was natural. She padded over to the table by the bed, picked up one of those clips that look like two curved chopsticks and secured her mane on top of her head.

  When she’d climbed the mar
ble steps, slipped into the steaming water and rested her arms out along the edge of the spa, she cocked her head. ‘What are you waiting for?’

  ‘Think I’ll pass. Don’t want to get my hair wet.’

  ‘Hair elastic. Top drawer. You have to come in. It’s the only way I can tell you’re not gigged up.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Wearing a wire. Girl can’t be too careful these days.’ She was smiling and gazing at me steadily.

  I couldn’t tell if she was serious or just fucking with me, but what I did know was I really needed this information. And it wasn’t like going naked was going to freak me out. I mean, half of Melbourne had seen my box—one more wasn’t going to make much difference.

  I opened the drawer, found a hair band next to some condoms and sachets of Wetstuff and tied my hair in a high ponytail.

  She watched as I undressed and laid my clothes on the bed, her eyes glinting in the low light. ‘Where do you get your triple X?’

  ‘Grace at Airs and Graces, North Melbourne.’ I’d slutted around in the past but always came back to her. Couldn’t entrust your pussy wax to just anyone. ‘You?’

  ‘Vanity, Chapel Street.’

  ‘Oh.’ I slipped into the water. Dahlia hit a button and jets of air shot out from the sides and bubbled up to the surface. I wriggled around and positioned a powerful blast on the base of my spine.

  Heaven, as long as you didn’t visualise the kind of action this spa had probably seen over the years.

  As if reading my mind she said. ‘Sex isn’t allowed in the spas.

  So, do you still strip?’

  ‘No.’ I wished she’d get around to Emery Wade.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m an inquiry agent now. Sometimes I have to give evidence in court. They’ll tear you to pieces if they find out you’re on the wrong side of the law.’

  ‘Stripping’s not illegal.’

  ‘Ha. If you do the shows the punters want to watch it is. What about you? Worked here long?’ I decided to go along with it and play the conversation game—though I’d thought if you paid for it you didn’t have to bother with foreplay.

  ‘Four years.’

  ‘Get sick of it?’

  ‘Not really. I only work one night a week.’

  ‘What do you do the rest of the time?’

  ‘I’m finishing my PhD.’

  I wasn’t surprised. Most girls in the industry were studying something. ‘Impressive. What you studying?’

  ‘Neurogenetics. I usually get round in a lab coat and glasses.’

  I wiped sweat from my brow. The heat from the spa seemed to be intensifying the mild champagne buzz I’d had on arrival.

  ‘This may seem like a naff question, and I hate it when guys ask me, but do you ever get turned on when you…’

  ‘Fuck clients?’ The swearword didn’t match her plummy accent.

  I nodded.

  ‘If they’re hot and have the sort of personality I click with, then I do. You’d be surprised how many good looking guys we get in here. If they’re not then the money turns me on sufficiently.

  I like doing couples best, or doubles with another girl. That’s fun.

  Very occasionally we get women coming in on their own.’

  ‘Lesbians?’

  ‘Mostly curious straight girls.’

  The mirrors had steamed up and sweat beaded on my upper lip. I tipped my head from side to side, trying to straighten out the kinks in my neck.

  ‘Tension?’ she asked.

  ‘Yeah, well, having your life threatened tends to bring it on.’

  ‘Scoot over here. I’ll give you a massage.’

  ‘It’s okay.’ I shrugged.

  ‘Come on. I’ll give you a massage and tell you about Emery Wade.’

  I slid over and sat in between her thighs. I could feel her thin strip of pubic hair press against my coccyx. Her delicate hands were surprisingly strong and I yelped as she dug her fingers into my shoulders and kneaded them up my neck.

  ‘Wow, you’re storing a lot of tension here, hard as a rock.’

  ‘So what about Emery Wade?’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘Jesus, Dahlia. I’m not here to fuck around. Tony told me—’

  ‘And I’ll probably tell you, but I’ve got to be sure I’m doing the right thing. There’s an unwritten code of confidentiality in this job that I really respect. We’re kind of like priests or doctors. However, I am prepared to break that personal rule if the information I provide is going to prevent something bad happening. If it’s just muckraking I’m not interested. I decide on a case by case basis and it has to be something I can live with, ethically.’

  ‘Do you get Tony in the spa and discuss ethical dilemmas when you give him information?’

  She laughed and splashed water at me. ‘Muckraking. Now tell me about Wade.’

  ‘Can you keep a secret?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  I arched my back as she ran her knuckles down either side of my spine and said, ‘Tamara Wade was blackmailing her stepfather and I think he had her killed but made it look like suicide. Soon as I started investigating I had my life threatened and now Wade’s trying to take away my inquiry agent’s licence. A friend of Tammy’s, Lulu, insisted Wade killed Tammy and was trying to kill her. Now she’s missing, maybe dead. If I can find out what Tamara was blackmailing him with I might have a chance at getting some evidence against him. Without a shred of proof I’m fucked.’

  She massaged me silently for a moment. Finally she said,

  ‘I don’t know if my information will help but I’ll tell you what I know. I never liked the prick anyway.’

  ‘You saw him as a client?’

  ‘Once. I refused to see him again.’

  ‘Violent?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. It was his arrogant, condescending attitude I couldn’t handle. Liked to head-fuck the girls, put them down to make himself feel good. But he did it in a really subtle way. Like, if he’d seen you before he might say, “Have you put on weight since we last met?” Or if it was your first time he’d say, “Oh, so is this your only job?” As if you were doing sex work because you were too stupid to do anything else.’

  ‘Did you tell him about your PhD?’

  ‘No way. I didn’t have to prove myself to a weasel like him.

  The other thing he was into was finding out what a girl absolutely wouldn’t do in the room, and offering her big money to do it.

  I don’t kiss clients unless I really fancy them. I can’t. To me it’s much more intimate than sex. So Wade just kept offering me more and more money. It was ridiculous. Got up to five thousand by the end.’

  ‘Five grand for a tonguey?’

  ‘Listen, I could have used the money, but it was the principle of the thing. When I told the other girls they said I was crazy to knock him back, but if I’d given in he would have won.’

  I understood what she was saying.

  Dahlia went on: ‘I found out from the others that he’d hassle for anal, or oral sex without a condom. Didn’t matter to him as long as she didn’t want to do it. Pretty twisted, hey? But then the whole lot of them are fucked up, except for Blaine.’

  ‘Blaine comes here?’

  ‘Oh no, not anymore. Emery brought him in a couple of years ago when he turned eighteen, before he was selected for first grade.

  Real sweetie for a football player. Had trouble getting it up actually, but he didn’t make a big deal of it. Most guys blame you, even if it’s their own fault for drinking or taking too many drugs. Blaine was cool. We just sat in the spa and talked for the rest of the hour.’

  ‘You said the whole lot of them. Who else comes in with Wade?’

  ‘Neville Annis did a couple of times. Only stayed with Asian girls. Billy Chevelle always comes in with him. They like to hire a couple of girls and swap around. Watch each other fuck. Bit hom o erotic, if you ask me. I wouldn’t see Billy either. I’ve got some r
eally lovely regulars. I don’t need to bother with idiots like them.’

  ‘What’s so bad about Billy?’

  ‘Where do I start? Thinks he’s god’s gift. Comes in coked up, fucks like a rabbit without being able to come. Likes to talk dirty, which is fine, except he gets off on saying really nasty stuff, calling the girls bitches and whores.’

  ‘Why would anyone see him?’

  ‘He tips well and he’s generous with his coke.’ Her thumbs made small circles on the base of my skull. I felt something click.

  ‘Hey, we’re getting somewhere here.’

  She was right. My neck was feeling loose. My entire body was.

  She swirled her knuckles around my lower back and it felt so good my eyelids fluttered closed. The spa water made me drift against her and I felt her soft boobs bobbing against my back. Her perfume smelled like chocolate and flowers. One of her hands floated up to my neck and the other strayed to my left breast.

  I was so relaxed I didn’t even realise until she started tracing delicate circles around my nipple and it hardened underneath her fingertips.

  There’s a direct line goes from my nipples to my pussy and I felt a wetness that had nothing to do with the spa. Was I a lesbian without knowing it? What if I was bi? That would have been cool, twice the chance to score on a Saturday night. And if her hand moved lower? What if she led me over to the bed? Would I be able to say no? Did I want to say no? Would it qualify as cheating on Sean? Her skin was so soft.

  She kept talking. ‘But the worst of all was Emery’s personal trainer. What was his name? Bergen or something. He was so bad he was banned.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Pushed me down on the bed and pinned me there. It was terrifying because he was huge, one of those body builders. But what really scared me were his eyes. They were flat, no emotion in them, just like a shark. I managed to push the panic button with my foot, but before security burst in he did the most disgusting thing. He licked my face with this horrible sticky tongue, and the saliva smelled hideous, metallic, like tooth decay.’

  I pulled away from her. ‘Oh shit,’ I said.

  Chapter Thirty-four