The Red Light Girls (Unsolved Mysteries Book 2)

by Kim Knight

  That could belong to anyone, she sighed.

  She scrolled through Madeline’s inbox again.

  An unexpected knock at the door annoyed her.

  “Come in,” she called out.

  “Hello, Ma’am.” Officer Denz walked in.

  She gave him her full attention and waited for the man to speak.

  “Detective, I went over to Lucy Hanssen’s house. There was no answer. Nothing.”

  Janssen tilted her head to one side, then rolled her eyes. “Great, okay. Try again in the morning.”

  “Will do. Also, the inbox of emails you printed, we’ve followed up on,” Denz continued. “We placed calls to all the women who left a number. Those who answered, said the same thing, that they had either used the website, still used it, or have come off it. But they were all consistent though. They found the men creepy.”

  “Right. Keep in contact with them. I hope you told them to keep a low profile on there for now.” Janssen looked him up and down.

  “Of course, Detective,” Denz replied. “They’re all aware.”

  Janssen softened her voice, fully aware her impatience with showing. “Okay, anything else?”

  “No, that’s it for now.”

  “Good. Chris Visser’s laptop should arrive soon. Push that through with the forensic team. I need you to verify the statement he gave this afternoon against his online usage. Right now, that’s his only alibi for being at home.”

  “Will do.”

  Denz turned to leave the office, closing the door behind him. She turned back to the caseload of girls to cross check information.

  Ring.

  Ring.

  “Yeah,” she said into the receiver.

  “I just spoke with Mrs. Chan,” Gibson’s voice came over the line sincerely.

  “Really,” said Janssen. “How is she? The poor woman. What she must be going through.”

  “She’s okay. She identified the pictures sent. It’s her daughter.”

  “It’s so sad. And to think she sent her all this way to study.”

  “Yep, the body is being flown back over to Hong Kong this week. Dr. Cleveland has all the DNA, evidence, and everything he needs. But the evidence he found, the hair, might lead somewhere.”

  Janssen sighed down the line. “Yeah, only if we find a suspect, that is.”

  “We’ll push Chris’ DNA and prints through and see if we get a match, if not, don’t worry, Janssen. We’ll solve the case.”

  “Yep, no doubt. No new emails have come in. Denz went over to the house of one of the women who came forward after Madeline’s appeal. There was no response.”

  “Which one?”

  “Lucy Hansen, she had a date lined up and had been active on the site. The rest of the women, Denz followed up. They all said the same thing.”

  “Which was?”

  “The guys came across creepy and seemed to like girls from the district.”

  Janssen heard Gibson start tapping on his keyboard. On her end, she clicked her mouse to unlock her screen and refresh Madeline’s inbox.

  Still no new mail.

  “All right, so our main actions of the day—check out Chris’ story and keep an eye on those emails,” Janssen said after a beat. “Whoever it is, is careful, very careful. No IP address. No evidence left. No witness nothing!”

  “We’ll get to the bottom of it, Janssen. While we’re waiting on the DNA and forensics results, let’s do some door knocking around the Amsterdamse Bos area,” Gibson said.

  Janssen checked her watch, there was plenty of time.

  “Okay, I’ll meet you in your office in an hour. Let me just go over a few more things here.”

  She placed the phone on the receiver cradle and prayed forensics would come up with something solid, a lead to something tangible.

  30

  Return to Sender…

  Madeline Sloane

  Ring.

  Ring.

  Ring.

  Madeline jumped out of a sound sleep. Her head felt heavy after a near sleepless night.

  A crick in her neck, from laying on the arm of the couch, made her groan. Snowy static danced on the television. She pulled herself up, then glanced at her phone screen, noting the time, eleven at night.

  Ring.

  Chris’ name flashed across the screen.

  “Oh, my God,” she gasped.

  She put the phone on the coffee table, got to her feet, and then backed away from it, standing over by the window.

  Peeking through the blinds, her gaze moved up and down the road, looking for Chris. But he was nowhere to be seen.

  A few cars lined the curbs. She wondered if any of them held the plain-clothed officers on surveillance outside her building.

  In the background, the phone continued to ring.

  Moving away from the window, she made her way back over to the table, then pressed the red X to send Chris’ call to voicemail.

  He called back, seconds later.

  Madeline flinched at the ringer. Panic hit her, making her chest constrict, and her body temperature rose.

  “Go away. Chris,” Madeline shouted in her apartment at the ringing phone. “Just leave me alone.”

  She paced the small living space, and sent his call to voicemail once again.

  He immediately called back.

  Shit. What the hell? You can’t take a hint, or what, she thought.

  Finally, she snatched up call and faced her fear head on.

  “What do you want?” Madeline said into the phone. “You need to stay away from me.”

  “Madeline, listen, please, about yesterday, I never meant to—”

  “I don’t care, Chris,” Madeline cut him off. “I don’t give a damn about that other girl. Just stay the fuck away from me!”

  Madeline cut the call, but Chris called back.

  When the phone wouldn’t stop ringing, she switched it off, then headed to her front door, checking the lock.

  What the hell do I do now, she paced the room and recalled the phone conversation she had with Stacey.

  Daddy? What does she mean?

  That one word stuck out to her mind like a sore thumb. She just hoped she was mistaken by what she thought Stacey had meant about Chris being her so-called Daddy.

  Her fingers itched to scour the Internet—namely, the Sugar Daddy’s website.

  Just a little investigative research before bed, or so she reasoned.

  System powered up, she clicked on the Sugar Daddy site again and studied the pages. Nothing looked out of place. It seemed like a dating website dedicated to rich men finding women.

  A thought came to mind, and she couldn’t help herself. And against her better judgement, she set up a fake profile. One with her picture and waited to see if anyone would contact her.

  Man, Janssen’s gonna hit the roof when she finds out. She cringed a bit. Well, that is if she finds out.

  If any guys did contact her, she’d play along and see if anything was out of the ordinary with the men who contact with her.

  A handful of women had confessed to her that they had used the site. Her conversation with the waitress at Erotica club, and the discussion she overheard in the bathroom, confirmed that Suzy had met someone one there.

  Something doesn’t seem right. She refreshed her browser window to see if she had any messages. Nothing yet. The police are moving way too slow.

  The first girl was reported missing over eight months ago, the culprit was still on the loose.

  I gotta speed things up.

  31

  Honey Trap

  Madeline Sloane

  Monday evening…

  What a day!

  Relaxing in the bath, candles all around her and a glass of wine in hand, was just what Madeline needed.

  Memories of this morning flooded her mind. She was full of nerves, which had made her commute to work overly stressful. Constantly looking over her shoulder, she had half-expected someone to jump out and attack her.


  “Chris,” his name passed her lips in a soft whisper. Even now, the thought sent a shiver up her spine, and goose bumps erupted the length of her arms and legs.

  She ran through the events of the prior week in her mind. The last email threat she had received was on Sunday morning—yesterday.

  Her boss Fleur was aware of the police monitoring her inbox, and supported the process fully, but none of the rest of her team knew. No one had any clue who the mystery email sender was—not Janssen, Gibson, or Fleur. It didn’t help that the IP address had been blocked.

  Damn you Chris. She sunk deeper in the tub, allowing the water to warm her shoulder. Damn you!

  Janssen hasn’t been in contact all day, and neither had Chris. Her mind moved back to her life in London, and the heart ache she had left behind.

  It was a bitter break up, one that involved cheating also.

  Chris, she drew in a deep breath. I thought you were different.

  A single tear fell down her cheek, leaving a trail to her chin, then cascaded onto her neck.

  The pain still felt raw. Madeline sunk lower into the water, then took an awkward sip of her wine.

  I’ve got to be more careful with these men, and my heart. She made up her mind—no more dates—that was for the best, at least, for now.

  The Red Light Girls and their cases had offered her some distraction from London, the heartache, and now the sting from Chris’ behaviour, which she really didn’t need.

  A new wave of confidence lifted her spirits. Rising out of the water, she blew bubbles off her skin.

  I got a job to do. She drained the remaining wine from her glass. Helping the detectives close in on whoever’s responsible for those poor girls’ deaths. That’s the focus. She thought to herself.

  Madeline placed the glass down, got out of the bathtub, hit the lever to drain the water, and then dried off with a towel.

  Blowing the candles out, she left the steamy bathroom and headed into the bedroom. Her phone flashed with a notification. It was an email from the website.

  Hi Frankie,

  This is Noah. I came across your profile. You sound really nice.

  Tell me a bit more about yourself. What do you do for a living?

  Madeline’s heart raced, and she re-read the email again. The email she had received from Lucy came to mind. The one letting her know that the man who contacted her preferred Red Light Girls.

  What did she say his name was? She thought a moment.

  “Noah,” she whispered. I’m sure of it.

  Madeline tapped out a response.

  Hi Noah,

  I’m a working girl. Please don’t judge me.

  What about you?

  Madeline put the phone down and chewed on her lip. She wasn’t sure what her next move should be, especially if he responded.

  She got dressed for bed, then climbed under the covers with her laptop for more research.

  Pulling up a Google browser, she typed in Chris’ full name. Nothing came up but his social media accounts and his LinkedIn professional page. So, she scanned his recent shares online and on Facebook. Nothing stood out of the ordinary.

  Hmmm, whatever!

  Madeline flicked the television from the Dutch gameshow to the evening news.

  Reading the information scrolling on the bottom of the report, her mouth fell.

  No. No. No. She pulled the covers tighter around her. Not again.

  A recent news update showcased another murder victim, Lucy Hanssen—the lady who had failed to respond to Madeline’s email asking about the man from the website Lucy had a date with. Her mother had reported her missing.

  “Fuck,” Madeline screamed. “This can’t be happening.”

  Her phone beeped with an email alert from Noah. She pulled her eyes from the television screen and read.

  I’d never judge you, Frankie.

  How about we both meet for dinner and get to know each other better?

  Are you free this week?

  Madeline started to perspire, and a cold sweat coated her body. Her breathing became shallow, and her heartbeat roared in her ears. For a moment, she hesitated to respond, then glanced over at the screen.

  This is for all of you—for all the girls. She typed out a response.

  Sure, I’d love to.

  How about tomorrow night? I have the night off.

  She pressed send, reached for the bottle of wine, poured another glass, and then tried to steady her erratic breathing.

  32

  In the Clear?

  Chris Visser

  Chris opened up his laptop and inspected it for damage.

  The police had released it to him quickly after they verified his online activity—his alibi for being at home, and nowhere near Dam Square, the Red Light District, or any other female over the last week.

  His heart was heavy over the loss of Madeline’s friendship, and the thought of him being placed as a suspect haunted him.

  How could I be so stupid! Madeline is worth more than this.

  He picked up his phone and pulled up her text messages and re-read them. Then, scrolled to her name in his contacts.

  Forget it, she’ll never talk to you again. He placed the phone down.

  Thoughts of the police interview swirled in his head. In his statement to the police, he was honest—even came clean about taking Madeline out while still dating Stacey.

  Well, not really dating. His finger hovered over the call button, then hit enter. I just hadn’t broken it off with Stacey yet, but I had intended to.

  Madeline’s line rang once, then went straight to voicemail. Instead of dropping the call this time, opted to leave a voice message.

  “Hey, Madeline, it’s me. I’m sorry about what happened with Stacey. The truth is yes, I was dating her casually—nothing serious on my end. Then I met you, and I really wanted to get to know you better. I never had any intention of seeing you both. I was going to let Stacey know, and then focus on getting to know you. By the way, the police interviewed me about the Red Light Girls. Can you believe that shit? Me? Above all people. I had nothing to do with the murders. Please, just talk to me.”

  Chris ended the message disappointed.

  When her car had broken down, and he crossed paths with her, he wanted to ask her out, but didn’t, thinking it wasn’t the best time to bring up the subject. But then last week, when she had a leak, it felt like a fated meeting—one he could not pass up.

  Sure, he liked Stacey. And she was a nice girl, but something about Madeline sparked a deeper interest.

  Physically, she is beautiful. Eyes closed, he brought up an image of her in his mind.

  Her mocha skin, brown eyes, and naturally curly hair, which he preferred over it straightened, brought a smile to his lips. He had never imaged that a woman as stunning as her would look twice at him.

  He threw the phone on the sofa and focused on the here and now. Hopefully if he gave it a few days, Madeline would speak to him again.

  His only hope for now was that Janssen and her team of men would leave him alone, and not consider him a suspect tied to the mystery murders that had plagued the city for the last eight months.

  It will be fine, they’ve got nothing on me, he reassured himself. Because there’s nothing to have.

  33

  Curiosity, Almost Killed the Cat

  Madeline Sloane

  Madeline glanced at her phone pissed off that Chris still had the cheek to contact her. She listened to the message with disgust. She wasn’t one hundred percent convinced of his innocence, either. Saving the message in case she needed it later for any kind of evidence, she decided to forget about him for the moment.

  He’s off my radar now as a friend or anything else.

  And if he was the suspect responsible for anything to do with what had been happening in the city, she’d make sure the Politie stayed on his case.

  A notification popped up with an email response from Noah.

  Wonderful Frankie,
<
br />   I can meet up with you. How about Amsterdam Centraal station? We’ll find a lovely restaurant in town.

  How does 8:00 sound?

  Responding straight away, she kept her reply short and simple. She didn’t want to tip him off, or make him think something was wrong. Her fingers shook, making it hard to draft a simple reply.

  Perfect.

  See you then.

  A message from Noah buzzed on her phone. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and blood rushed to her head, this gave her an almost light-headed sensation.

  Excellent!

  I’ll text you more directions tomorrow. I’ll meet you there.

  Madeline tapped out a quick email to Detective Janssen. If anyone could come up with a plan of action to help capture this guy, it was her. She just hoped the detective’s anger and temper wouldn’t both go through the roof.

  Detective Janssen,

  Please don’t be mad! I did some digging, and I joined the website. Someone made contact with me, and I’ve organised a date with him tomorrow night at eight outside of Amsterdam Centraal. I want to see who shows up—if it’s Chris or not.

  Madeline

  Her phone pinged with an email response almost immediately from the detective. She pulled it up, both dread and excitement hit her. Drawing in a deep, cleansing breath, she read it.