Ultimate Justice

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Ultimate Justice Page 13

by M A Comley


  Lorne indicated and turned in to the next road on the right. Even in the dark, the area looked dog rough. At the top of the road were several flickering lights. Lorne strained to make out what they were and gasped when she realised it was a tiny community—a cardboard city settlement. She shuddered at the thought of people living on the streets.

  After locating the correct address, Lorne parked the car in a space a few doors down from the agency. They waited for the sun to come up and Tara Small to arrive.

  “How are we going to handle this?” Katy asked, resting her head back against the headrest of her seat.

  “Not entirely sure yet. Let’s see what we pick up, and we’ll go from there. Do you think halfway through the conversation you could ask to use the loo and take a snoop around?”

  “Sure thing. I bet she doesn’t allow it, though, I can feel that in my water.”

  They both chuckled. They had to wait for over an hour until they noted the first flurry of activity at the address. Two skinny girls left the building. They staggered down the steps, their arms tightly linked.

  “Are they drunk? What are they doing coming out of the building? I expected to see people turning up here, not leaving,” Lorne said.

  Katy pointed as the door to the property opened just wide enough to let another two people out. This time, two men emerged. “Wait, there’s more.”

  “Interesting.” Lorne craned her neck to look up at the three-storey building. “Could this be some form of bedsit property, do you think? Or could these girls be using this property as some kind of brothel?”

  “It’s hard to tell. If it is a brothel, would they be letting these girls go off on their own? Are those two men customers or what?” Katy joined in.

  “That seems to be the end of people leaving, although I can see a few lights on at the very top of the house.”

  Katy leaned forward in her seat. “Yeah, I can see, in the attic. That sounds more like it: make the girls live in a tiny attic and service men regularly.”

  “Looks like Tony will be making another anonymous call to the council when we get back. Hang on, this looks like the woman we’re after.”

  A thin black woman got out of a sleek Mercedes AMC sports car and crossed the road to the house. She ran up the dozen or so steps daintily in her six-inch heels. Somehow, Lorne had imagined a rough looking woman with a face like a bulldog, but this woman was the total opposite, if she were indeed Tara Small. There was only one way to find out.

  “We’ll give her five minutes to get settled in and then surprise her.”

  Before they could get out of the car, a huge black limo double-parked outside the property and a tall, well-dressed gentleman exited the rear door, walked up the steps, and entered the building.

  “Interesting development,” Lorne stated, placing her elbows on the steering wheel and resting her chin on her fists. “Wonder what part he plays in all this?”

  “You say that as if you know him.”

  Lorne turned and winked at Katy. “Might, might not.”

  “You know what? Sometimes you infuriate the hell out of me,” Katy retorted with a mock snarl.

  “That’s why you love working with me. Pete loved it, too; it used to keep him on his chubby toes.” She smiled as she remembered her overweight partner, but her smile waned when the gentleman caller returned to his car. “Well, that was short and sweet. We’ll go in as soon as the car drives off.”

  Katy already had her hand on the door handle, eager to leave. The limo eased away gracefully and glided around the corner at the top of the road.

  “Let’s go.”

  The early morning sun warmed their faces as they made their way from the car to the house. Lorne tried the handle, and, thankfully, the door opened. The last thing she wanted to do was to announce their arrival and allow whoever was inside to hide any evidence of illegal activity.

  In the hallway, there were two doors, one on either side. Lorne tried the handle to the door on the right, and walked into the room that contained numerous filing cabinets and a secretary’s desk that was secretary-free. Behind the desk was another door that Lorne presumed to be Tara Small’s office, even though there was nothing to indicate the fact. She approached the door, gave it a brief tap, and walked in with Katy close behind her.

  “Who the hell are you?” The woman was holding a hankie to her nose, but it was doing very little to stem the blood gushing from it.

  “What happened?” she asked, rushing to aid the woman.

  The woman held out an arm and stepped back. “Don’t come near me.”

  Lorne persisted and handed the woman a box of tissues that had been lying on the desk. “We’re trying to help. What happened?” she repeated.

  The woman looked her up and down in disgust and shouted, “I fucking walked into the door, what d’ya think happened? Dumb bitch.”

  The venomous way the woman looked at her and addressed her made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

  Katy, who had remained by the door, said, “Calm down and tell us what went on.”

  “Are you two crazy? I know—you’re from that campsite up the road, ain’t ya?”

  Lorne took that to mean the cardboard city community they’d spotted at the end of the road. She couldn’t help laughing at the woman’s absurd assumption.

  “Whatcha laughing at, you dozy mare? You see me laughing?”

  “I wouldn’t be if I were in your shoes,” Lorne said haughtily.

  “Meaning?” the woman said, dabbing at her nose and replacing the bloody tissue with another from the box Lorne had given her.

  Lorne raised an eyebrow. “You’re looking for clarification of my statement with a nose like that? You’re more stupid than you look.”

  The woman shoved her shoulders back and charged at Lorne, who held her position firmly. The woman, who was at least six inches taller due to the heels she was wearing, towered over her.

  “You want a broken nose, too?”

  Lorne laughed and turned her back on the woman and mumbled under her breath, “I’d like to see you try.” Winking at Katy, who was grinning in the doorway, she said to Tara Small, “Either you tell us what happened, or I’ll call the police and report the assault—it’s your choice.”

  “No police. I don’t want them here,” Small snapped back before she reluctantly sat in the chair behind her desk.

  Lorne and Katy exchanged knowing glances. The woman was about to open up to them; fear had that effect on people. Nevertheless, her theory was about to be proved wrong.

  “I ain’t tellin’ you nothin’ until you tell me who you are and what you’re doing here.”

  Lorne and Katy moved to stand in front of the desk, obviously obtained from a cheap furniture store. “My husband called you at the end of last week.”

  “Lady, I get a lot of calls from men—hundreds every day—you wanna give me a hint what it was about?” Tara Small eyed her cautiously.

  Lorne’s eyes rose to the ceiling, repulsed at the thought of what the calls had entailed. “I’m a private investigator.” She paused to gauge the woman’s reaction, but there was none. “We’re investigating a case, and the name of your agency has cropped up a few times during our investigation. If you don’t mind, we’d like to ask you a few questions about the set-up you have here.”

  Small picked up a new tissue. “Depends.”

  “On what, exactly?” Lorne asked.

  “Whether I want to divulge my business to some filthy P.I. or not. Go on, then, try me with one of your questions.”

  Small smirked, and Lorne had an idea that she was about to get the runaround. This woman appeared to know what to say and how to say it. She decided she would ease into the questions gently. “You don’t mind if my colleague here takes notes, do you?”

  Small shrugged. “Makes no odds to me.”

  “How long has the agency been open?”

  “Three years,” Small replied abruptly.

  “And what sort of services do
you offer here?”

  “What services have you heard that we offer here?”

  Hmmm…‌so you want to play cat and mouse games, do you, missy?

  “It’s come to our attention that you employ girls from the Far East to work as au pairs and maids.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “I take it this morning’s visit was from a very dissatisfied customer, then?” That rocked her. Small’s eyes narrowed, and she struggled to speak for a second or two, so Lorne prompted her. “The service you provided must have been pretty bad in his eyes for him to blatantly assault you like that.”

  Small’s gaze lowered to the desk in front of her as she mulled over Lorne’s question. Then she replied quietly, “He’s a business associate, not a punter.”

  Lorne raised a questioning eyebrow. “A business associate, huh? What’s his stake in it?”

  Small bristled in her seat and her back straightened in the chair. “That’s my business, and I ain’t tellin’ ya.”

  Lorne turned to Katy. “Then our job is done. Ring the police, will you?”

  Small shot out of her chair and tore around the desk towards Lorne. “You fucking do that, and you might as well get in touch with the undertaker at the same time.”

  “What do you mean?” Lorne asked, guessing what the woman meant, but needing her to confirm it from her own mouth.

  “Just how stupid are you, lady? If I snitch on these guys, they’ll come after me. With every torture device you can think of. You don’t mess with these guys—ever.”

  Lorne noticed that in spite of Small’s tough exterior, her hands were shaking.

  “If they’re that bad, then why in heaven’s name did you get mixed up with them in the first place?”

  “I didn’t get a choice,” Small said. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, she returned to her chair.

  “Care to enlighten us further?”

  “My business did start off legit—honest, it did. After a year or so, this guy came to see me—to tell me—that he was going to become my new partner.”

  “I see. Did he say what would happen if you refused?”

  “He said he’d break every bone in my body. You kind of listen to someone when they threaten ya like that. I didn’t get a choice. My business went from a legit au pair agency to a brothel and illegal people-trading business overnight. I’m the public face; any shit comes my way, like this morning. And I’ll tell you this, lady: there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. I’m fucked. I either do as they say, or I meet my Maker early.”

  “I’m sorry, Tara. That’s a difficult situation to find yourself in. Is there no way you can get out?”

  The woman slowly shook her head and unexpected tears welled up in her eyes. She wiped them away swiftly with the back of her bling-covered hand. “I thought about it. I even made it as far as the airport one day. I had a flight booked to Jamaica, but they got wind of it and sent two bruisers to persuade me to return. I’m stuck here as much as my girls.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Are your original girls still employed with you? Or did these guys force you to take on the girls they provided?” Lorne asked, genuinely concerned for the woman’s welfare.

  “Some are still with me, but others…”

  “Others, what?” Lorne asked already knowing what the answer was going to be.

  “Let’s just say if the girls refused ‘the opportunity open to them,’ well…” She trailed off, brought her thumb up to her throat, and pulled it from one side to the other.

  Lorne looked at Katy, who shook her head. Then she asked, “Just how many girls work for you, Tara?”

  Tara shrugged. “I stopped keeping records after I reached five hundred.”

  “What?” Lorne asked, staggered by the figure.

  “It’s gone well past that number now. I wish I could get out of this stinking trade, but like I said, they won’t allow it.”

  Katy cleared her throat. “If you’re willing to testify against these men, you’ll be able to get into the witness protection scheme.”

  “Have you not listened to a word I’ve said?” Small shouted at Katy.

  “Of course, I have. I’m just saying, that as far as I’m concerned, that would be your only option to get out of this mess,” Katy replied, incensed.

  Small shot out of her chair, and Lorne positioned herself between Katy and the advancing woman. “My partner is only stating facts, Ms. Small. Now, how are we going to get you out of this mess if you’re not willing to tell the police?”

  The woman shrugged and shook her head as fresh tears filled her eyes, then reached for another tissue as her nose started dripping blood again. “I don’t know.”

  “Can I ask if some of the girls live in the building?” Lorne asked, suddenly remembering what she and Katy had seen earlier.

  “Yeah, there are a dozen or so of them up there.”

  “Is this place classed as a brothel at night?” Lorne asked, not pulling any punches now that Small appeared to be willing to cooperate with them.

  Small nodded her head.

  Lorne remained silent for a minute or two as she contemplated what advice she could give the woman. Without Small’s willingness to involve the police—a scenario she totally understood, given the circumstances—she really didn’t know what she could do to get this woman out of the terrible harm she’d been forced to put herself and her employees in. Then something sparked her brain into life: go after the suited man.

  “The man who attacked you—what’s his role in all this?”

  “I told you, he’s a business associate.”

  “Yeah, I know what you told us earlier, but in order to help you, we need more details. So…‌what’s his role in the grand scheme of things?”

  “Christ, if I told you that, my head really would be on the block. Can’t you just take my word that he’s involved, end of?”

  “All right, I can see there’s no point in pushing you. We’ll take what information you’ve given us, have a think about things, and see if we can come up with a solution to your problem. Can you hang in there for a day or two longer?”

  Small inhaled a large breath and then blew it out. “I’ve been involved this long; I’m sure I can handle another few days or weeks. Hell, where am I going to go. If big guys hear about your visit, I won’t be here when you call back. I’ll be six feet under.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Okay, I know when you’re lost in thought as opposed to just being quiet for the sake of it—what gives?” Katy demanded once they had left Tara Small’s office.

  “Huh?”

  “You heard me. Tell me what you’re thinking, and while you’re at it, where are we going?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough. Our next rendezvous is approximately five minutes away. Now, hush a minute and let me think how I’m going to tackle this, will you?” Lorne glanced Katy’s way, gave her a wide smile, and winked.

  Katy’s arms folded across her chest and she let out an exasperated breath. “Whatever.”

  “As soon as we get to our location, all will become much clearer—I hope,” she added apprehensively after voicing her statement aloud.

  “Huh. Not only was my birthday weekend spoilt, but now the lady wants to torture me by keeping me in suspense,” Katy mumbled.

  Lorne couldn’t help laughing at her ex-partner, who, at the moment, was acting more like her daughter.

  “Well, I’m glad you find me amusing,” Katy added sarcastically.

  “Patience, dear girl, patience.”

  A few minutes later, Lorne reached their intended destination. She pulled into the long drive and parked outside the main entrance to the house, noting that there were two cars already sitting in the drive.

  Katy whistled. “Wow! Looks like someone’s numbers came up on the lottery.”

  “Come on, you. Leave the talking to me this time, all right?”

  “Aww, I kind of liked winding Small up back there.”

  “Yeah, and yo
u nearly got a smack in the mouth for your trouble. Seriously, we need to tread carefully here, hon. One question.”

  “Shoot,” Katy replied, baffled.

  “Do you have your warrant card with you, or did you have to hand it in when you were suspended?”

  “Damn. You know what—I forgot to hand it in to Roberts,” Katy replied, feigning regret.

  “Good. Let’s go.”

  As they approached the house, Lorne raised her hand to use the ornate knocker, but before she could reach it, the door was yanked open and the person she least wanted or expected to find there glared down at her. “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Hello, Mr. North, it’s nice to see you again so soon,” Lorne replied breezily, hoping her words had managed to mask Katy’s surprised gasp.

  “My wife can’t see you at present; you’ll have to call back another time,” he said angrily, his gaze going over Lorne’s shoulder, causing her to warily look behind her. Is he expecting someone?

  She smiled her sweetest smile. “Why can’t Angela see us, Mr. North?”

  His focus pulled back to Lorne and seemed to pierce her soul. “She’s indisposed. Actually, she’s getting ready to go to one of her damn charity luncheons, if you must know.”

  Lorne walked up the step and heard Katy do the same behind her. “I’m sure she won’t mind if we come in and wait for her. I told her that we would keep her up to date with the case.”

  He tried to shut the door in her face, but Lorne shouldered it open. Caught off-guard, North staggered backwards, allowing Lorne and Katy to storm through to the lounge where they found Angela sitting in her winged chair reading a book. The startled woman glanced up and gulped. Her eyes fluttered shut, as if she feared trouble ahead.

  “Angela, what the hell happened to you?” Lorne was shocked to see the amount of bruising covering the woman’s face, despite the heavy makeup she was wearing.

  “Oh, that. I had an accident the other day. It’s nothing to worry about, dear, really,” Angela said. Her gaze dropped back down to the book in her lap, as though she were ashamed of the obvious lie she had just told.

 

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