Mystery of the Dead
Chapter 1
"We've got a murder at the Ola Ola Club. Nick and..." Nick looked up at the Chief Inspector, "Simon you to have this one". Nick and Simon slid from out of their chairs. Simon playfully elbowed Nick and sniggered, "Do you reckon it's a dead stripper?" Nick grabbed his coat from the peg as they exited the building. He replied in a confident tone.
"I doubt it, probably some poor drunken sod. Could be a mug gone wrong?"
"Maybe, let's just get there. It's late." Nick got in the driver's seat of the black BMW with Simon as the passenger. Nick adjusted his tie in the wing mirror. Simon took out his mobile searched through his contacts. Nick looked over at him before pulling out of the car park. He cleared his throat and asked, "you texting Cheryl?" Simon looked up and nodded,
"Yeah, I'm just going to tell her I'll be late and there's no point staying up for me." Nick nodded and rubbed the left side of his face.
"How far is she now?" Simon sent the text and paused for thought for a split second.
"Five months now. The mother-in-law is being a nightmare as usual, probably even worse now that we are expecting our first kid. Cheryl even gets sick of her." Nick laughed in empathy.
"I'm so glad I'm not married." Simon rests his arm on the window and shook his head,
"Well you keep screwing up your relationships. You work too much. That last girl, Sabrina. She was nice. Whatever happened to her?" Nick made a left turn at the traffic lights and hesitated,
"We just had different ideas. She wanted something different out of our relationship. We were together for six months, not exactly long." Simon put his phone away in his jacket pocket,
"Yeah well once we get time off I'm setting you up with my cousin." Nick moaned,
"Not your cousin Hannah. We went on a blind date last year and you know how that went." Simon hung his head in shame and thought back to that day.
"Oh yeah. Sorry. I didn't tell you she had an obsession with guinea pigs." Nick laughed and pulled into the car park of the Ola Ola Club.
"Yeah, your never allowed to find me a woman again. We had a deal that night. Now come on let's get on with our jobs." Simon and Nick got out of the car and slammed their doors shut. They presented their identification to the police officer on call who then nodded and lifted up the police tap. Police lights flashed in the darkness creating attention to club goers. Nick led the way into the building and up the stairs. The body was sprawled across the bed in silk bed sheets. A lamp was smash on the floor and blood trailed to the balcony. He had been shot six times in the chest. His head decapitated from the rest of him. Forensics in white body suits were taking pictures and picking up possible evidence. Karl the head forensic approached them,
"He's been dead for about three hours. He has been shot six times in the chest, the third bullet killed him. It went straight through his heart. His head was also cut off evidently."
"Do we know who he is?" asked Nick. Simon took down notes as he spoke.
"His name is Damien Cooper, twenty three. He is a barman downstairs at the club. Evidence does suggest he had intercourse prior to his death." Nick nodded and looked over at Simon.
"Thanks Karl, let us know if you find anything." Simon said politely. Nick and Simon headed back downstairs to meet the club owner.
Marcus Fabio was in his office. Nick and Simon walked in to ask him questions. Marcus was heavily covered in fake tan which stained is white polyester suit. His greasy hair and well-kept beard were a distraction from his small beady eyes. Nick stepped forward and leant on the chair with the palm of his hand. Nick started the questioning,
"Do you know anyone who would have wanted to kill Damien?" Marcus shrugged,
"No. He was a barman simple as. Damien never got into trouble, none that I know of anyway."
"Is he close to anyone at the club who is in 'trouble'?"
"No. Damien he kept to himself. Listen, I don't know much about him. I just hired him. You're better off talking to his cousin, she's working downstairs. Ask for Poison Ivy." Simon and Nick looked at each other in confusion.
Simon and Nick headed to the club. Simon acted formally as he approached the bar and asked for Poison Ivy. The muscled barman stretched out his steroid enhanced arm and pointed to the right hand side of the stage. Simon and Nick both looked over at the pole dancer. She was a thin, pale, leggy blonde in tight pink and black underwear with tall heels. She spun on the pole and slid onto the floor in front of her male entertainers. Some businessmen put fifty pound notes in-between her breasts. Nick slowly walked over and admired her bendy movements on stage in the dim lighting. As he walked closer she slid off the pole and exhibited her butt to him and brushed up against his side. Nick didn't feel flushed at the sensation of a hot stripper slowly grooming him.
"Are you Poison Ivy?" He asked sternly. She danced around her male company not paying attention to him. She acknowledged who she was and continued to dance. Nick took out his police identification. She looked up and her smile faded. "Can we talk to you somewhere private?" She nodded and clicked her fingers. Another stripper came out from behind the stage to take her place. The men wolf whistled as she came out to entertain them. She played with her curly red hair before putting on similar moves like the others.
She took them to a private cubicle. She shut the door behind them and put her hands on her hips. She studied them with her big blue eyes and sighed,
"What you want? Yeah my cousin is dead. I don't know who did it. Now if you will excuse me I have to go back to work." She went to push through them, but Nick held her back.
"First off. What is your real name?"
"Arianna, anything else?" She asked bluntly. Nick looked over his shoulder at Simon. He was silent as Nick questioned her.
"How well do you know the cousin Damien?" Arianna shrugged and sat down on the red velvet booth chairs. They were soft and springy.
"Damien was a good guy, bit thick. He was always the loser at school. He always tried to impress people, impress my friends. You see we were in different crowds. I lost my parents when I was baby I grew up with him, but we weren't really close. We kept out of each other's lives."
"Do you know of anyone who could have done this? Someone who didn't like him, he had beef with. A drug dealer? Thug? Anyone wh..." Arianna interrupted him.
"No. No one. He doesn't fit in with that crowd. The only thing he got up to around here was sleeping around with some of the strippers." Simon looked up at her and asked,
"Which strippers?" She sniggered and quickly stood back up,
"Well there was Ginger, Cleo, Louise, Mary-Jane and Veronica. His current fuck buddy was this new brunette, but I never got a proper introduction. Probably new in town." Nick smiled and re-opened the door.
"Thank you for your time. We may need to speak to you again." Arianna pushed back her hair with her finely polished ring finger and pushed through them.
"Yeah whatever." The door slammed shut as she made her exit. Simon closed his note pad and shook his head in disbelief.
"Well she's a charmer," he said casually. Nick frowned and went to grab the door handle.
"I think she's knows something. How can you not know information about someone who you have lived with all your life. It doesn't seem possible. Anyway, we can interview some other strippers, the barman and then go back to forensics." Simon nodded, but acted uncomfortable.
"Nick, I don't really want to stay down here. I have Cheryl...I...I just feel awkward." Nick was sympathetic with him.
"Tell ya what. You go back talk to the barman and to forensics. I'll talk to some of the other strippers." Simon smiled and nodded. Nick smiled back at him and they took that as a sign to walk out of the booth.
An hour had past. Simon met Nick outside by the car. Nick held tight onto his coat as an attempt to block the icy cold wind. Simon walked briskly over to him and to his side of the car.
"What did forensics find?" Nick asked loudly. Simon opened his car door and sat inside. Nick joined him and put on his seatbelt.
"Possible finger prints and a hair on the bed sheets. Nothing unusual of yet apart from the unnecessary beheading of the victim." Nick started the car and exhaled strongly,
"I think we should sleep on it and see what tomorrow brings. I'll drop you off on the way back to the station. I think Cheryl will still be waiting up for you." Simon laughed and blushed,
"Yeah, she probably is. Thanks mate." Nick smiled and patted his shoulder,
"You know I care about you two. Besides I've seen a pissed off Cheryl before, it's the scariest and ugliest thing I've ever seen." Simon laughed hysterically before registering what he said. Simons expression turned serious,
"very funny. But seriously, my wife isn't ugly."
"I know. I'm just winding you up," Simon sighed with relief, "you are a very lucky man."
"Thanks." They exchanged smiles before pulling up along the curb. Simon got out and thanked Nick for dropping him off. Nick waited in the car until he got inside. He saw Simon through the window being squeezed to death by his worried wife. Simon looked at him through the window. Nick checked his mirror and drove off.