Goddess of Justice by Dwayne Clayden (mobi ebook reader TXT) 📕

The lights dimmed, and the music roared. The patrons cheered as a tall girl wearing a nurse’s uniform danced onto the stage and paraded in front of the men in the front row.

“We should head out,” Steele said.

“Why?” Zerr asked.

“First, it’s hard to see anything with the lights low, and second, this is not a pleasant image.”

“First, the lights over the stage are just fine and I can see everything I want to. Second, no one gives a shit about us being here.”

“What are we going to accomplish here?”

Zerr smirked. “Surveillance never hurt. Besides, we’re showing the colors. Keeps everyone in line.”

A waitress stopped next to them. “Can I get you a drink, boys?”

“No thanks,” Steele said.

“On the house,” she said.

Zerr grinned at her, but Steele put his hand on Zerr’s arm. “We were just about to go.”

“All right. You should have been here earlier.”

“Why’s that?”

“Some customer got out of hand and the boys had to tune him.”

“He grab the girls, or what?” Zerr asked.

“Not sure. He was a quiet guy, not like the ones who commonly get out of hand. He’d had little to drink—well, at least from here. I doubt he’ll be back. The boys are excellent at getting their message across. If you know what I mean.”

Steele nodded. “Have a good night.”

“The offer is always here if you get thirsty later.” She winked and headed to a table.

They stopped outside the bar. “We’ve got a choice to make.” Steele peered up and down the street. “Either we call it a night, or I need a coffee and to pee, and not in that order.”

“Fine,” Zerr said. “Take your break, then let’s do another hour.”

Steele sighed. “Okay. Fine with me.” He drove south on Edmonton Trail and pulled into the 7-Eleven. They climbed out of the SUV and headed to the door.

Just as they stepped inside, three ladies headed away from the cash register.

“Hello, ladies,” Zerr said.

“We’ve been searching for you,” Steele added.

Steele had arranged for three cruisers to take the girls to HQ to be interviewed. At two in the morning, it wasn’t difficult finding three free crews. He didn’t want the girls to talk to each other and come up with a story.

They stepped into the first interview room. The teenaged girl was shaking. She appeared tiny in the small room. Her hair was blond, but not naturally. Her face was heavily made up with thick black eyelashes and bright blue around her gray eyes. Her arrest records had no date of birth but said she was twenty. Steele guessed no more than seventeen or eighteen.

They sat opposite her. Zerr reached over and uncuffed her.

Steele opened the file folder he carried, then glanced at the girl. “It seems we have various names for you. What do I call you?”

She stared at the table, rubbed her wrists. “Martina.”

She pronounced her name with a heavy European accent, possibly Russian. “Okay, Martina, I’m Sam and this is Charlie.”

“I don’t know nothing.”

Steele smiled. “I haven’t asked a question yet. Where are you from?”

“I don’t have to say anything.”

Steele leaned back. “That’s true. We’d like to help you.”

Martina crossed her arms over her chest. “Police lie. They don’t help.”

“We don’t want to keep you here,” Steele said. “Answer a few questions and we’ll let you go with your friends.”

She sneered. “I give blowjob, you let go?”

Steele held up his hands. “Whoa. Nothing like that. Just a question. Well, the truth. Last week you were at the tattoo parlor.”

“Parlor?”

Zerr rolled up his shirt sleeve and pointed to the tattoo on his shoulder—the US Army Ranger logo with a lightning bolt and the words Ranger, Airborne.

She nodded. “Soldat? You soldier?”

“I was.”

“Worse than police.” She spat on the floor.

Steele glared at Zerr. “Thanks for the help.”

Martina grinned and pulled her top down, revealing a tattoo just below her left clavicle, RFI. Then she pulled the shirt down farther.

Steele held up a hand. “No. Stop.”

Martina glanced from one to the other, then released the fabric.

“We need to know about the night the men were killed.”

“Pigs.”

“The man who killed them, what did he say?”

“Say go. Give money. We go.”

“Nothing else?”

“Take money, go.”

“Okay.” Steele picked up the file folder.

“Wait,” Martina said. “You said you help?”

Steele nodded.

“You keep us safe?”

“Absolutely.”

She pursed her lips and sighed. “I talk to prosecutor. Make deal.”

“What do you know?” Zerr asked.

She leaned back in her chair. “Prosecutor.”

Steele opened the door to the second room. Zerr removed the handcuffs and again they sat. The lady, early twenties but appeared thirty or more, had unnaturally bright-red hair. Her face was overly made up with bright-red cheeks and thick red lipstick. She sat back in the chair, arms folded, almost black eyes glaring at them with an ‘I’m going to kill you’ glare.

Steele glanced quickly at the file folder. “What do we call you?”

She glanced at her red nails then chewed a cuticle.

“This says your name is Belova Komarova. You go by Belle.”

“Why you ask, if you know?” Her accent sounded Russian.

Steele shrugged. “Okay, I’ll call you Belle.”

“Call me whatever.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “I don’t talk to you.”

“You speak English well.”

“Dah.” She grinned and leaned forward. “You understand, fuck you.” She shifted in her seat then cupped her breasts in both hands and shoved them up. She grinned at Zerr. “Quiet one, you like?”

“I’ve seen better,” Zerr grinned.

Belle laughed and sat back. “But you pay more.”

“We have a few questions,” Steele said.

“Am I under arrest?” Belle’s eyes stayed on Zerr.

“No.”

She pushed her chair back. “I go then.”

Steele shook his head. “No.”

“I buy coffee in store. That a crime in Canada?”

“A couple of questions and you can go.”

She folded her arms. “Lawyer.”

“Your choice,” Steele stood and gathered the file folder.

“Leave quiet one here.” She blew a kiss to Zerr and giggled her breasts. “He likes.”

“I can do the next interview alone,” Steele said.

“Screw you.” Zerr grabbed another Coke and they entered the third interview room.

This girl was hunched over and crying. When she glanced up, her