Evil Intent by Jane Isaac

Author:Jane Isaac
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Legend Press

CHAPTER 32

‘Found it. Adult Services For You,’ Pemberton said.

Helen and Pemberton were standing beside Spencer’s computer in the corner of the incident room. After phoning the details through to the office and requesting urgent checks, she was relieved to arrive back to find they’d dug up a wealth of information about the website.

Spencer pointed the end of his pen at a photo of Louise or ‘Lola’, as she was called, on the screen. She was barely recognisable. Sandwiched between two blondes, Cherry and Tina, her photo was a head-and-shoulders shot, her face lathered in make-up, the top of a black camisole showing off a generous portion of breast.

‘Classy,’ Helen said.

‘Oh, believe me,’ Spencer said. ‘I can tell you from my days in vice, this is pretty tame. It could be a whole lot worse.’

The text beneath was limited – Call now, for a night you won’t forget. A phone number was listed beneath.

Helen recalled a stint she’d done with organised crime. They were monitoring some of the known sex websites to ensure the girls weren’t being exploited or abused. She’d been amazed when they had visited a massage parlour, just off High Street, where girls were earning up to two thousand pounds a week for additional services. ‘There’s not much information listed, is there?’ she said.

‘Leaves a lot to the imagination, I guess. Clients discuss with the girls what they offer.’

‘And no price.’

‘They don’t want to put people off. Ask too much and it limits interest. These people work on the basis that once a girl speaks with a client, they’ll hook them in.’

‘We’ve spoken to the manager at Bluebells. He confirmed a room was booked by a Lola Levison on Tuesday evening. She paid in cash. He never saw the client. And we’ve discreetly checked out your informant too. He was out of town on Wednesday night, at a business conference in Leeds.’

Helen thanked Spencer. She hadn’t suspected the informant. It was unlikely he’d come forward and offer his prints if he was involved, but they needed to account for him, just in case.

‘Anyway, that’s not all we wanted you to see,’ Pemberton said. He nodded to Spencer, who scrolled through numerous other profiles.

Spencer paused at a photo at the bottom of the page. A dark-haired woman, again heavily made-up, with red pouty lips – Sherry.

Helen cast them both a bewildered look.

Spencer clicked on the profile. A photo of Sherry filled the page, an arrow beside indicated further photos. He clicked along. Sherry in a red camisole, crawling towards the camera. Sherry glancing beneath her thick lashes bashfully. Sherry looking over her shoulder. And then Helen spotted it – the edge of a teardrop birthmark at the side of her neck.

‘Ah!’

‘Exactly,’ Spencer said. ‘Both our victims were working from the same site. Both potentially sex workers.’

Helen stood back, leaning against the arm of the chair. The profiler said there was something about the women that repulsed the killer… ‘How could we not have known this?’ she said.

‘We can’t crack the passwords to either of their iPads and we don’t have their phones,’ Pemberton said.

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