by Kim Knight
“Madeline, why didn’t you say something before now? What’s happened?”
“It only just popped into my head this morning.”
“What did? You gotta give me more than that.”
“Something happened last night with this guy, and now, it has me thinking…it made me wonder if he’s somehow connected.”
“Okay, my office in an hour. And this better be good, Madeline. It’s Sunday morning. Bring your laptop too. We’ll check out all the emails.”
Janssen dropped the phone without even so much as a goodbye.
Madeline got to her feet and headed to the kitchen for some coffee. As it brewed, her mind ticked over to Chris.
There’s no way you can be involved, is there?
26
The Pieces Fall
Detective Janssen
An hour later Detective Janssen opened the door to her office, and Madeline followed behind her.
“So, what happened with this guy you had a date with?” Janssen removed her scarf and fedora hat.
While she watched Madeline’s body language for signs of false premise, she made her way over and sat behind her desk.
“It’s probably nothing. But I met a guy pretty randomly. My car broke down, and he helped me change the flat for the spare. Then it turned out that he was the plumber my landlord hired to fix a leak in my bathroom. He’s cute. We went out on a date and—”
“I don’t need a backstory or some kinda damn romance novel. What is this?” She flipped her hands in the air in a gesture of frustration. “Get to the point,” Janssen demanded. “Tell me about the girls and why you think he’s involved?” Janssen rose, rounded her desk, and then flicked on the switch on the kettle.
“Detective, are you always like this?” A whine lined Madeline’s words.
“What?” Janssen glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. “You got some information, get to the point.”
“You’re so… so. Arghh, never mind.”
Janssen turned her full attention to Madeline, noting the body language of frustration and visible pout on her lips.
In her mind’s eye, Janssen recalled her girlfriend telling her the same thing.
You’re far too blunt at times, babe, her significant other often relayed.
It’s not as if I can help it. Hell, it comes with the territory, with the job.
She didn’t rise up the ranks and become a female detective by being soft, not by a long shot. Day in and day out, she had to deal with the bullshit testosterone of her male coworkers who tried to make her question her suitability to the job. So, who could blame her for catching an attitude now and then.
“I’m sorry.” She softened her tone. “I’m all ears. Tell me what happened.”
Madeline blinked at her from across the room. She could see the tears about to spill over onto her cheeks.
Janssen internally kicked herself. She hated to see pretty girls cry, even her own girlfriend.
She sighed deeply. “Oh Madeline, come here. It’s okay. Tell me what happened?”
Janssen crossed the room and against her better judgement, she scooped Madeline’s petite frame into her arms and held her, offering her comfort.
Sobs came from her, making her body shake.
“Some girl turned up in the middle of our date. She went crazy. I think she must have been through his phone and stored my number too.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she called me last night to warn me to stay away from him once again.”
Janssen let Madeline go, handed her a tissue from her desk, then went back to the kettle.
“So, what’s this got to do with the missing girls. I don’t follow?” Janssen asked over her shoulder.
Madeline took a deep breath. “She asked if I’m one of the girls he’s met online, and then told me, ‘he’s her daddy.’”
Janssen rolled her eyes and laughed. She made her way to the desk with a cup of tea and sat in front of Madeline.
“Her daddy? Really? Madeline, this could just be some kinda cute name she has for him.” She paused a moment. “Sorry, do you want something to drink?”
Madeline shook her head. “ No thanks. Detective, I feel uneasy about it. Please, will you just look into it?”
“What’s his name?”
“Chris Visser.”
Janssen unlocked her computer and ran his name through the police data base.
“We’ve got more than one Chis Visser. Do you have an address?”
“1679 Hanns Street,” Madeline confirmed.
Janssen rubbed her temples and narrowed her eyes at the screen for a couple of minutes, reading.
“Okay, found him. He has a record for minor driving offenses, otherwise a clean record.” Janssen turned to Madeline and looked her in the eye.
“You do realise that if you suspect this guy, you can’t have anything else to do with him. If I pull him in for questioning, you can’t be associated with him.”
Madeline swallowed hard and looked toward the window.
Janssen studied her profile, waiting for a response. “Madeline, keep your legs closed. No more dates—got it?”
“Yeah, right. Okay. I never had sex with him. I don’t plan to see him again, anyway. He’s a two timing—”
“Spare me the details,” Janssen cut Madeline off with a wave of her hand. “What else have you got? What about these emails?”
Madeline balanced her laptop on her thighs, logged into her account, and then pulled up her work inbox.
“Here’s the original one from Lucy, the one she’s not responded to.” Madeline sat the laptop on Janssen’s desk.
Janssen leaned in to read over the email thread. “So, this guy has a preference for Red Light Girls according to her, and she has a date.”
Janssen turned back to her computer and ran Lucy’s name through the same search database.
“This just gets better.” She shook her head.
“What? What’d you find?”
“A record for shoplifting,” she said, “that is if it’s the same girl we’ve got on record.”
Janssen picked up the phone and punched the buttons. “Yeah, it’s me, get in here, will you, I need you to follow something up. Thanks,” she said to the other person on the line, then hung up the phone.
A few minutes later a knock at the door sounded—a single knock, followed by two short ones.
“Come in,” Janssen called out.
“Detective,” a uniformed officer shook inside the doorway. “You called?”
“Yep. Need you to follow up on a lead witness the name’s Lucy Hassen. Put in a courtesy call to her home. See if she’s the same woman who responded to Madeline’s newspaper appeal about the Sugar Daddies website.”
Janssen logged into the mirrored account, monitoring Madeline’s work email. She located the same correspondence, then sent it to the printer.
“Right okay. Will do.” The uniformed officer collected the sheets of paper from the printer, then left the office.
“Okay, now back to Chris.” Janssen took a sip of her tea. “I’ll handle him. Show me the rest of the emails.
For over an hour, Janssen poured over the email responses to Madeline’s appeal. Several women had come forward claiming to have been in contact with men from the site.
“We’ve got a lot to follow up on. Thanks for stopping by. I promise we’ll look into everything,” Janssen said satisfied there was enough evidence to purse the website and women linked to it.
“No problem. So, what happens next?” Madeline grabbed her laptop.
“Well, given the number of deaths and missing girls over the last few months, plus the conversations you overheard at the clubs, murders this week, and this new information.” Janssen pointed to Madeline’s laptop. “It’s time to get to work, starting with this Chris guy and Lucy.”
“I hope you catch the person responsible.” Madeline sighed.
“Me, too. Now, remember what I said, stay away from
Chris. Go back to work on Monday and keep yourself to yourself. The police presence will still be outside your home, if needed.”
“How will I know who they are? Will they be in an issued car?”
“No. Unmarked. Don’t worry, even if you can’t see them, just know that they’re there for your protection.”
“Yeah, sure.” Madeline hung her head low.
“I guess we’re done here. I’ll be in contact. Thanks for being so persistent.” Her fingers moved over the keys of her keyboard, typing. “Now, let’s see what we find.” Janssen got to her feet.
Following suit, Madeline rose, packed away her laptop, then pulled on her jacket.
“I’ll see myself out,” Madeline called over her shoulder and headed toward the door.
Janssen continued to tap away at her keyboard, unfazed.
27
Odd Places
Detective Janssen
Later that afternoon…
“Hi, can I help you?”
“Detective Janssen.” She flashed her badge, then turned to her left. “And this here is Detective Gibson. We’re looking for Chris Visser. Is that you?”
Janssen glanced over the man who fit the description the witness had seen, as well as Madeline’s tip off.
He ran a hand through his curly hair, wild and unkept. Taking in his appearance, she assumed the bedhead was a direct result from sleeping late. After all, it was Sunday.
“Yeah, that’s me. What’s happened?”
“Mr. Visser, we have some questions for you.” Janssen glanced behind him into his home.
“Me? Why? What’s happened?”
“Can we come in?” Gibson leaned against the frame, the toe of his shoe over the threshold.
“Sure.” Chris moved to one side to allow the officials in, then closed the door. “Sorry about the mess,” he called behind them. “This way. Come on through.”
Janssen followed behind him, entering a small hallway that led to the living area.
She glanced behind her at Gibson, who was busy looking into the bedroom they had passed.
“Do you live alone, Mr. Visser?” She stopped at the threshold of the living area and glanced around at the mess.
“Yeah. Oh, uhm, sorry about the mess.” Chris moved an empty pizza box and beer cans to one side.
A little dog trotted around the corner, then proceeded to yap at her ankles.
“Do you mind.” She eyed the small furball.
“Let me put him in the other room. Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”
She and Gibson entered the room and sat on the sofa.
Janssen’s keen eyes roamed over Chris’ environment. It was what she would expected a typical bachelor pad to look like. It even had the latest technology plugged in, which added to the modern design of the decor.
“So, what’s up?” Chris took a seat opposite her, and pulled on a jumper.
“Mr. Visser, you’re aware of the missing girls, the Red Light Girls, right?”
“Of course, who hasn’t heard.” Chris shook his head. “It’s terrible, you need to catch that killer..”
Janssen smirked. “Do you know any of the girls personally: Zoe, Ana, Suzy, Donna—”
“No,” Chris interrupted. “I don’t, not at all. I don’t go to those clubs. Well, not often anyway. I don’t personally know any of them.”
“This is a personal question, but do you have a girlfriend?” Gibson scooted to the edge of the couch.
“Why? What’s this got to do with anything?” A blush rose from Chris’ neck and climbed to his cheeks. “Can you tell me what’s going on here?”
“Please ,just answer the question. Do you currently have a girlfriend?”
“I was seeing a girl, so, yeah. Well, maybe a few. I’m not proud of it, but I was seeing this one girl, then met another I really liked. What does it have to do with anything?”
“And how did you meet?” Gibson crossed a leg over his knee.
“Online through this website—it’s the best way to do it these days. I don’t always have time to go out and clubs are not really my thing.”
Janssen’s gaze met Chris’ at the confirmation of online dating. “What was the name of the site you met them on?”
“Match.com, the one everyone uses,” Chris chuckled. “Why? What does this have to do with the Red Light Girls? And why are you asking?”
Then it happened, Janssen watched closely, it was as if a lightbulb had gone off in the man’s head.
“Oh, wait. Hold up, you think I’ve got something to do with those girls, right?”
Janssen opened her notepad and ignored the question. “Chris, can you tell us your whereabouts last Tuesday?”
“Last Tuesday? I was at work. Why? Hold on. I’m not answering any more of your questions without a legal rep. You can’t just storm in here and—”
“Fine. Mr. Visser if you’ll accompany us to the station, we can organise one for you.” Gibson got to his feet and stared down at Chris.
Chris threw his hands up in the air in protest. “Great. I can’t believe this. I had nothing to do with those girls!”
28
Hot Seat
Chris Visser
At the station two hours later, Chris sat on one side of the table in the investigation room, his legal representative next to him.
Janssen and Gibson were opposite him, pinning him with a stare that made him feel uneasy. He shuffled in his chair and repeated his response.
“Like I said, I can’t remember where I was all those months ago when these girls went missing. Last Tuesday, I went to work, and then came home. And I was home all evening.” He paused for a beat, then glanced from Janssen to Gibson.
From what he could ascertain, neither appeared fazed nor convinced.
“This weekend, I had a date with Madeline Sloane. Other than that, I was at home. Before that, I was at home getting ready. I never went anywhere.”
“Okay, we’ll verify this with your employer. Do you have anyone else who can confirm you were at home?” Gibson asked.
“Look, like I said, I was home. I’ve got no reason to lie. If you must know, I’ve been online looking for love. I was on match.com since Madeline doesn’t want me and Stacey isn’t really my type. I never moved from my apartment all evening.”
Chris felt a wave of embarrassment pass over him. A suffocating heat rose from his neck and travelled up to his ears and cheeks, turning his normally pale skin a rose tinned colour—or so he was sure.
Damn, I sound like some kind of womanizer, he pondered with worry.
He glanced back down at the table, avoiding the detective’s eyes.
There was a silence in the room that made him feel uncomfortable with the whole situation.
In time, he shifted his gaze from the table, finding Gibson and Janssen looking at one another.
Janssen leaned across the table and got closer. “What device did you use that evening while online?”
“My laptop.” He shrugged. “Why?”
“Okay, we’ll need to take it into custody.” Janssen glanced down at her notes. “And this weekend, you left out to meet Madeline Sloane at what time?”
“Just before lunch.”
“And you arrived home at what time?”
“She left me there. Well, after Stacey burst in on us. I got home in the late afternoon. I was there all evening. You saw the mess when you were at my place.”
“What did you do when you got home?” Gibson shifted in his seat.
“Nothing,” said Chris. “I was upset.”
Chris glanced around the room, and then to his legal rep, who nodded at him to continue.
He took a deep breath, then confessed, “I watched Netflix, ordered a pizza, and zoned out. Next thing I know, you’re banging on the door today.”
Gibson sighed with impatience and leaned back. The bulky guy looked over at Janssen and she nodded.
“All right, you’re free to go for now.” Janssen closed her notepad. “One
of the officers will escort you back to your place and take possession of the laptop.”
Chris’ eyes darted back to Gibson in amazement. “I need it for business. When will I get it back?”
“Soon. Don’t worry.” Gibson dismissed him, then got to his feet. He cut the tape recording and turned to Chris’ legal representative. “He’s free to go. Please report to reception.”
Chris’ eyes followed Gibson and Janssen out the room.
After they depart, it was like he was finally able to breathe again. His legal representative turned to him and opened his mouth as if to speak.
“I didn’t do anything.” Chris told him flatly “If that’s what you’re about to ask me.”
“It’s okay. I understand accusations are never easy. Let’s go to reception and get this over with.” He patted Chris’ shoulder.
He rose, and so did the legal rep, and the man followed him out of the interview room to meet the uniformed officer outside.
“This way, Sir.” The officer motioned for Chris to follow him, then escorted him to the reception area.
Janssen was waiting for him. “Here.” She handed Chris some paperwork. “This is for the laptop. One of my officers will escort you to your place, and then back to the station with it. If anything else is needed, I’ll be in contact. Don’t go too far.”
The detective turned on her heels, leaving Chris with his heart in his shoes.
29
Bite Sized Pieces
Detective Janssen
Back in her office, Janssen poured herself a cup of herbal tea, then looked over Madeline’s inbox.
Nothing else had come in for the day. The frustration she felt with the case grew with each passing day. And the girls that had gone missing or turned up dead, she felt with a tangible ache in her gut. Only two witnesses, with one sighting, didn’t throw up anything on the CCTV footage. And so far, no significant evidence had turned up on any of the bodies other than one hair found this week on one of the latest victims—Suzy.
