The Red Light Girls (Unsolved Mysteries Book 2)

by Kim Knight

  “Thanks,” Madeline responded. “Anything else?”

  “I’m only telling you this as we need all the help we can get to catch this sick person.” The officer kept walking at swift pace.

  Madeline struggled to keep up.

  He turned to her once more. “That’s all I can say. And you never heard it from me. Now, please leave.”

  Madeline nodded in agreement and watched the officer disappear into the sea of uniforms around her.

  Janssen looked over in her direction with a frown on her face, then approached.

  Madeline took a deep breath. Great. This should be interesting.

  “What did I say to you?” Her voice remained stern and even toned, but her body language showed sheer annoyance. “You need to leave. I don’t want the press here. Understand?”

  “I’m on my way, Detective. Don’t worry.”

  Madeline turned to leave, and as she did, Janssen moved off in the other direction. She heard the detective bark orders at her team of officers behind her, but she couldn’t make them out. Glancing back, she locked eyes with Janssen and quickly moved away from away from the area.

  A name, that’s a start. Now, I wonder where she worked? Madeline thought to herself.

  She headed toward the exit of the park.

  Glancing at her watch, it read a few minutes before six. At this hour, the bars around Dam Square and the Red Light district would start to get busy.

  She made her way back up the pathway she had taken prior. And since her last trek through the area, more leaves had flooded the ground. Her boots ate them up, crunch by crunch, under her feet.

  It was getting colder, and the evening had started to draw in. The park’s lamp posts flicked on as she walked toward the exit of the park.

  Once there she took one final glance around at the officers patrolling the area, then made her way back to the tramline toward Amsterdam Centraal.

  The tram was packed. It reminded Madeline of the underground in London. All the times she had crammed herself in there like a sardine, with a bunch of Londoners who had no clue about personal hygiene, caused her to chuckle.

  Some things never change.

  Standing with one hand on a rail to steady herself, and pressed up against a man behind her, she held her free hand up to her nose, then glanced around. The person whose bodily smell assaulted her nose could have been anyone. The passengers were that close.

  Madeline jumped off the tram at her stop. A rush of passengers moved on and off the carriage. As they did, she weaved her way in and out of the sea of people.

  The short walk to the Red Light district was just as busy. She imagined that some locals were making their way home from work. Others were on their way to the Red Light area.

  No doubt for a coffee and a smoke.

  She pictured some of the girls as working women, on their way to hustle for the night, and line their pockets with the notes men were happy to place in their skimpy underwear.

  Madeline had grown to enjoy the contrast between London and Amsterdam. While still busy and always bursting with people, just like Chris had said, and with cannabis being a legal substance, the city was much more relaxed than London.

  People being too stoned, most of the time, to commit a crime—his words made her laugh.

  She kept walking along the cobbled pavement packed with people. As Madeline approached the Red Light area, she had no idea where to start to make enquires about Suzy. She stood on the corner of the road by the canal, next to a lamp post.

  She was next to a man smoking a joint.

  The smell drifted toward her, and she breathed it in with pleasure and contemplated what she really could do. All she had was a name of the woman who was found dead.

  She might have worked in any one of the gentlemen’s clubs in the area.

  On a whim she headed toward to main strip where the window girls were. She walked along through the crowd of people, every now and then, she glanced to her left at the girls in the shop front windows.

  The girls smiled, blew kisses, and teased the people standing around with their phones out, snapping pictures of them.

  Randomly, she headed into the second bar she passed.

  Inside, it was pretty calm for the early evening, or so she noticed. As she glanced from her left to right, she noted both male and female customers scattered around drinking, smoking, and talking.

  Cannabis smoke wafted freely through the air. The pink hue of lighting caused Madeline to narrow her eyes.

  Casually, she stepped over the threshold and made her way over to the bar. The working girls were on the tables. They strutted their stuff in see-through heels and with little else on. A few preformed tricks on the poles, sliding up and down with ease.

  Madeline felt the stares from the other patrons as she moved across the room.

  “Hi there, what can I get for you?” The barmaid asked.

  “Just a Coke, please.”

  The barmaid raised an eyebrow and slid over a menu showing what the price for cannabis was.

  Tempted, Madeline picked it up, but she reminded herself that she needed to keep a clear head—or did she?

  What the hell, she thought. I need to blend in, anyway. I can just ask for a Coke, get my little stash, and then leave.

  “I’ll take number five.” Madeline pointed at the menu. She decided to take a small amount cannabis and blueberry flavour rolling papers home with her for later use. God knows she needed to chill-out, after the panic of the new case—not to mention the whole pipe and water fiasco.

  She didn’t feel safe with this crazy maniac on the loose.

  Something must be done. A long sigh left her lips.

  Madeline didn’t smoke often, in fact, back home in London, she hadn’t had a joint since her days in university, and now, in her late thirties, that was years ago. Even then, she was not much of a stoner. She wanted to focus on her education.

  Landing in Amsterdam, that had all changed. She didn’t have many friends, but on the odd occasion she did go out with her co-workers, they always sent her home stoned as fuck. Madeline laughed at the last team building night she had. Even her boss was pretty out of it.

  “Sure. Coming right up.” The barmaid jolted her from her daydream, then snatched up the menu.

  Madeline looked around again, unsure exactly what she was looking for, or why her instinct had pushed her to visit one of the local bars.

  “Here we go. That’s twenty-five euros, please.” The barmaid placed her drink, smoke, and rolling papers on the bar counter.

  “Thanks, keep the change.” Madeline handed over thirty euros.

  Madeline felt the barmaid eye her suspiciously as she fingered the notes she handed over. She ignored the woman and decided to roll herself a smoke.

  “So, what brings you here?” The barmaid held her gaze. “I’ve not noticed you in this bar before.”

  Madeline opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, and then pressed lips together. To bide her some time, she took a sip of her drink.

  “I’ve been here before,” she lied. “Maybe you weren’t on shift.”

  The barmaid continued to stare. “Hmm.” As she did, she nodded at Madeline. “Maybe, yeah.”

  She rung up the order at the till and went to hand Madeline her change.

  “No, keep it. It’s cool,” she said.

  Again, the barmaid looked her over and nodded. Then placed the tip in the jar on the bar.

  “Do you know Suzy?” She got straight to the point.

  For a moment, the barmaid doesn’t respond. Instead, she watched Madeline, who was all fingers and thumbs as she tried to roll up her smoke.

  The barmaid let out a laugh. “Here, let me.” She took the cannabis and papers from Madeline.

  “Thanks.” Madeline blushed and chuckled in response.

  The woman made quick work of the joint, then hand it back to her.

  Madeline leaned on the bar and lit her smoke. She blew a massive cloud up to the ceiling. The d
rug rushed through her body, and instantly, she felt more relaxed.

  “Suzy who?” the barmaid asked, “there’s few.”

  Madeline inhaled on her joint again. She nodded down at the rest of her stash, then asked with a smile, “Will you roll me another one for later.”

  The barmaid set to work, and while she did, Madeline leaned further onto the bar and whispered, “She was a Chinese girl—Suzy, you must know her. She worked around the city. Did she work here?”

  “Oh,” The barmaid licked the rolling paper and expertly wrapped up the joint. “You mean Crystal, maybe? That’s her stage name.” She handed Madeline her smoke.

  Madeline noticed a frown spread across her face as if she were in deep thought.

  “Yeah, we have a Chinese girl working here. It must be Crystal.” She paused again, then tapped her chin. “Yep, it has to be. There’s not many exotic girls like her around the city. So, it has to be our Crystal. Why? What’s up?”

  “Nothing, I just—”

  “No.” The barmaid’s eyes widen, and she covered her mouth.

  Her smoke was strong, and it took her a moment to register what the waitress had become engrossed in. She followed the woman’s gaze across the room to the large television mounted on the wall. The volume was on mute, but across the screen, Dutch subtitles showed the breaking news report.

  Madeline squinted through the smoke-filled bar, then hit her joint with a deep inhalation again. Her eyes widened at the news as the information scrolled across the screen.

  Finally, the police confirmed it, she thought to herself.

  “Oh, my word, the dead girl found on Amsterdamse Bos was Suzy Chan,” she heard the waitress whisper.

  Madeline turned from the screen back to her. “Yep. I can’t believe this.”

  “She’s dead. Jesus, another one!?” The waitress whispered as she gripped her throat.

  “Yeah. It’s madness. So, she worked here?”

  The barmaid moved her gaze from the screen to Madeline, then she looked her up and down with a frown “Who are you?”

  “I was a friend of hers, that’s all.”

  “Bullshit, if you were any friend, you wouldn’t be asking me where she worked.” The waitress narrowed her eyes. “Who are you?” She paused a moment. “Are you a cop?”

  Madeline panicked, she glanced around her to check no one had heard the accusation. “No, not at all.” She raised her hands to in a hush motion. “Shh. calm down.”

  Madeline placed the joint in her mouth, letting it dangle at the corner. She pulled her ID out discreetly from her coat, then held it up. “I’m not here to cause trouble,” she said in a low voice, then glanced around the bar. She met the barmaid’s gaze. “I want to help, maybe run an article on these women and see if we can find any witnesses.”

  The barmaid leaned forward and squinted at her badge. Madeline watched her process the information now she knew who she was. She bit her lip, pulled herself up to her full height and held her hand up in defence.

  “Nope. I’m not talking to the press.” She glanced around the bar, then leaned across it so close, Madeline could see down her cleavage and smell her perfume.

  “I’ll get in trouble,” she whispered.

  Madeline met her eye and leaned in even closer. She lit her joint, took a hit, then handed it to the barmaid.

  “You won’t. I promise,” Madeline whispered across the bar.

  The barmaid held Madeline’s gaze while she inhaled deeply on the smoke. She paused and tilted her head to one side as if debating whether Madeline was genuine in her promise.

  Sensing her doubt, over whether she could be trusted from the look on the woman’s face, Madeline adjusted her positioning on the barstool.

  “You can trust me,” she said in a low voice.

  Madeline side-glanced to her left and noticed a woman making her way to the stage dressed in a see-through fishnet dress, a thong, and heels.

  The DJ changed the mood of the bar with a new song choice, to Pink’s Family Portrait.

  Madeline admired the bravery of the dancer as she took to the stage and started a classy pole dance over Pink’s vocals. She focused in on the barmaid once more.

  “Tell me about her,” she said. “When did you last see her?”

  The barmaid shook her head and hit the blunt again.

  Madeline saw the tears well up in the woman’s eyes.

  The barmaid glanced behind Madeline at the television, then took in the room.

  “Yeah, Crystal was a friend of mine.”

  She exhaled a large cloud of smoke.

  Her shoulders sagged along with the release, and it was as if some kind of weight lifted, allowing her to open up and speak.

  Madeline reached in her bag and pulled out a small packet of Kleenex.

  “Here, don’t ruin your pretty eye make-up.” She handed over the tissue, and tried to keep the conversation going.

  “Tell me about her.” She wanted information and would butter the woman up anyway she could to get it. If the barmaid knew Suzy Chan, then her random stop off in this bar had struck gold. She’d leave with as much information as she could.

  The barmaid laughed, took the tissue and dapped at the corners of her eyes. She took one more hit on the blunt and handed it back to Madeline.

  “I can’t believe it. These girls have turned up dead and missing for months. Not once did I think it would happen so close to home.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. When did you last see Suzy?”

  “About a week ago. We worked different shifts. She was clocking off, and I was starting work. Five in the afternoon which was unusual as she normally works later. She said she had a date that night. We laughed and joked. I told her to keep me posted. That was all.”

  “A date. With who?”

  “She never said. Just commented that he was wealthy, kind, and hoped that if all went well, she could hang up her heels and stop dancing.”

  “Okay, thanks. And this was around five in the afternoon, a week ago today, right?”

  “Yeah.” The woman nodded.

  Madeline gulped down the rest of her Coke, satisfied she had some information to work with. “What about the other girls who have gone missing. Did any of them work here?”

  “Nope. Thank God!”

  “Okay, what’s your name?”

  The barmaid eyed her suspiciously again. “Why? I don’t want to get into trouble for anything.”

  “You won’t, I promise. I’m just trying to help close in on who the killer may be. Any information is helpful, and confidential.”

  The barmaid moved her hand to her throat and opened her eyes wide. “You won’t print my name in any papers, will you?”

  “No, of course not.” Madeline shook her head. “Like I said, you can trust me. And this is not just about selling papers either. This is personal. We need to be safe in the city.”

  “The barmaid nodded. “Okay, I’m Dolly. That’s what I go by.”

  “I’m Madeline.”

  Pulling out a business card and a pen, she crossed out the British mobile number and replaced it with her Dutch one.

  “Here, call me if you remember anything else.” She slid the card across the bar.

  Dolly looked around the bar, picked it up discreetly, then shoved the card in her bra.

  “You never got your info from me okay,” she said. “I said nothing.”

  Madeline winked, then smiled at the barmaid. Taking one last hit of her joint she stubbed it out, gathered her stash of weed off the bar, then placed it securely in her pocket.

  Getting to her feet she placed her bag over her shoulder and headed towards the exit. She swung open the door to the café.

  The rain had started to fall again. People scurried around the cobbled pavement for cover and opened their umbrellas.

  “Shit!” Madeline cursed at the threshold.

  She stepped out into the rain and quickly walked over to the paper stand. Grabbing a copy of the free evening newspa
per, she opened it and placed it over her head.

  From under the shelter of a shop door, she looked around at the Red Light District.

  What next? She pondered. Should I head to another bar for more info? It was a tempting idea.

  Through the heavy sheet of rain, she observed her environment.

  The pavement thinned out with people. A fog covered the windows of the shops and cafes along the road.

  Okay. Research first!

  With her mind made up, Madeline headed back the way she had come. Walking down the cobbled pavement, she weaved in and out of a few tourists and locals, toward Amsterdam Centraal station.

  Now, to see what information the night brings.

  5

  Make The Link

  Detective Janssen

  It had been a long day for Janssen. She was tied up with team briefings, paperwork, and going over the strategy to clamp down on small time drug dealers around the city. Now free of briefings and meetings, she opened the door to her office and entered.

  She was exhausted, but also pissed off. It had happened again last night, and the media were going crazy. Another female body showed up in the last twenty-four hours, the death toll around the city was climbing.

  I knew media would go to town with this latest case. She shrugged out of her blazer, then hung it behind her door.

  Last night after her and Gibson shut down Ali’s operation, she and a team of uniformed officers scooped out the woodland area where Suzy Chan’s body had been found. It was late evening. They had sealed off the Bos and declared it officially closed until further notice.

  Janssen and her team had returned early this morning. After a few hours, she left her officers at Amsterdamse Bos with strict instructions to search the woodland area during the day, and for them to carry out some door-to-door questioning. Once that was done, she headed back to base. It was time to look more closely at the situation the city was in.

  The drugs, the deaths, and the disappearances of women—mainly working girls.

  Janssen headed over to the kettle in the corner of her office, flicked the switch, and then plucked an herbal tea bag from the plastic container.