28

  "Why are we in the arse end of nowhere?” Ridley said as they alighted from their cab.

  “This is apparently where our informant has his place of business,” Nairo replied, looking around the abandoned industrial estate.

  “Anyone working this far off the grid has to be up to something shady,” Ridley muttered.

  “Well he’s a pimp and a pornographer, what did you expect?”

  Ridley shrugged and lit a smoke as they approached the only building that seemed to have any activity. It was a ramshackle old factory building with crumbling brickwork that was surrounded by mountains of trash and detritus. There were two men standing outside, huddling away from the rain under a tin awning. They eyed Nairo and Ridley with open, yet impotent, suspicion.

  “‘Oo are you?” one of the men spat at them. He had a mouth full of black teeth.

  “I’m Nairo and this is Ridley, we’re here to talk to your boss,” Nairo replied.

  “Oo’s my boss?” the man said with a stupid leer on his face.

  “Some feller called Tommy Plumb,” Ridley said.

  “Wot d’yer want?” the other man said.

  “We need to ask him some questions regarding a possible homicide we’re investigating,” Nairo said, already bored with the duo.

  “Wot ‘omicide? Tommy ain’t got nuffin’ to do wiv no ‘omicide!” the black tooth man growled, his hand dropping to his waist where Nairo suspected he had a concealed weapon.

  “Wot’s a ‘omicide?” the other man whispered to him.

  “You know… when two fellers is sweet on each other,” the black tooth man whispered back.

  Ridley snorted and shook his head. He fished in his pocket and produced two silver coins.

  “Here, go buy a book or something,” he said, flicking the coins at the men and stalking past as they scrabbled to collect them. “Honestly, the state of education in this city is shocking.”

  Nairo looked at the two men and shook her head as she followed Ridley into the factory. There was the steady thrum of an ancient printing press churning out mildly erotic, but mostly blurry, black and white pictures. There were only two men in the factory, hastily collecting, stacking, cutting, and glueing the pictures. There was another naked man lying on a grotty sofa, snoring gently, and the strong smells of narcotics lingering in the air.

  “Where’s the boss?” Ridley shouted to one of the men who pointed to a little official cubicle in the back of the factory.

  Ridley nodded and then stopped to look at the pictures before Nairo shoved him in the small of his back. She strode across the sweltering factory and knocked on the door.

  “Wot?” a sharp, verminous little voice barked at them.

  Nairo didn't bother with introductions. She pushed the door open and walked in, her black trench coat swishing around her ankles.

  “‘Oo are you?”

  “You Tommy Plumb?”

  “Err…” Tommy Plumb was a little melted ball of cheese. He had sallow, waxy skin, an unhealthy amount of sheen on his bald head, and was so rotund his chins had swallowed his neck. He had a small scrunched up face covered in scabs with sharp little rat-like teeth.

  “Relax, we ain’t coppers,” Ridley said as he walked in behind Nairo.

  Tommy quickly snapped shut a draw and turned in his seat. It was then Nairo realised he wasn’t wearing any trousers. Fortunately, the rolls of his stomach prevented her from seeing enough to make her sick.

  “‘Oo are you then and wot are you doin’ in me factory?”

  “I’m Ridley, this is Sergeant Nairo.”

  “I thought you said you wasn’t coppers!”

  “Oh yeah… she isn’t… anymore,” Ridley said, flashing him a wolfish grin.

  Tommy’s yellow eyes narrowed in suspicion.

  “We’re here to ask some questions regarding a certain individual you may know,” Nairo said, growing impatient. “Ozymandial Litteragi.”

  “‘Oo?”

  “Manny the Umbry theatre director,” Ridley said, blowing a cloud of smoke as he perched on the arm of the sofa.

  “Big Manny?” Tommy said and then caught himself. “Even if I did know ‘oo that was, why would I tell you? I ain’t no rat.”

  “That’s not what we’ve heard,” Ridley said.

  “Wot? ‘Oo you bin talkin’ to?”

  “Edgewater and Washbottom,” Nairo replied.

  “‘Oo?”

  “Wally and Timmy. They’re two corporals who told us you were a reliable snitch.”

  Tommy muttered the names to himself and then his eyes widened.

  “Wot the fat kid and the skinny one? Oh bloody ‘ell! Wot am I runnin’ a bloody information exchange! First Charlie, now them two, wot am I just bein’ passed around by yore lot?" Tommy huffed and wiped a bead of sweat from his bald head.

  “Charlie… as in Corporal Nelson?” Nairo asked.

  “Yeah! He passed me on to those two and now they won’t bloomin’ stop pesterin’ me!”

  “Bit ironic, you getting pimped out, isn’t it?” Ridley said, smirking at him.

  “Dunno wot you mean,” Tommy said, crossing his podgy arms across his chest. “And I’m plenty busy right now, so maybe you wanna piss off since you ain’t even coppers.”

  “I can see that,” Nairo said, eyeing the crumpled stack of pictures Tommy had been ‘enjoying’.

  “Just a bit of market research,” Tommy said without an ounce of shame. “You’re welcome to stay and watch.” Tommy flicked his tongue out at her and rubbed his nipple through his shirt.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Nairo muttered. “Ridley, you know how I always tell you kicking shit out people is illegal.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I think we can make an exception here.”

  “Great. But I don’t really want to touch him. You got any gloves on you?”

  “Wait! Why you gonna assault me for! I ain’t done nuffin’!”

  “We could use that bat he’s got behind his desk,” Nairo said.

  “Good idea,” Ridley stood up, his smoke clamped between his lips.

  “Wait, hold on! I was only jokin’!” Tommy laughed nervously. “I didn’t mean nuffin’ by it.”

  “Then you’ll tell us what we want to know about Manny?” Nairo asked.

  “Yeah alright, wotever. But I don’t know much about ‘im. ‘Onestly!” Tommy said, holding up his podgy hands when he saw the steel in Nairo’s eyes. “Only wot I’ve ‘eard ‘ere and there. I don’t know the geezer.”

  “You’ve never done business?” Ridley asked, eyeing the stack of lewd images.

  “Wiv ‘im? Wot business would I ‘ave with the likes of ‘im?”

  “We’ve heard he’s also in the flesh trade,” Ridley said.

  “Well… I dunno alright. Like I said, it’s all just rumours.”

  “What are the rumours?”

  “That ‘e likes to you know… sample ‘is own wares. I mean the geezer gets a steady pipeline of young, fresh girls all day long. Some of ‘em he keeps and some of ‘em ‘e passes on, you know?”

  “Passes on?” Nairo said.

  “Yeah to Mama Noor,” Tommy said.

  “Who?” Nairo asked.

  “Mama Noor,” Ridley said. “She operates one of those high class brothels on behalf of the Weasel.”

  “Yeah out East, it’s called the Gilded Cage.” Tommy said, nodding eagerly. “Manny sells ‘er the girls ‘e don’t want no more. Girls like that ain’t no good for me. Cost too much and got too many high class ideas in their ‘eads. If you wanna know more about Manny, you gotta go and see ‘er.”

  Nairo looked at Ridley for confirmation and he nodded.

  “Okay, we’ll do that.” Nairo flipped her notebook shut.

  “But speaking of these rumours,” Ridley said to Tommy, dropping his smoke and stubbing it out with his shoe. “What have you heard?”

  Tommy licked his cracked lips and shrugged.

  “‘E’s a real piece of shit,” Tommy said. “Likes to party, gets ‘em young, sometimes very young, gets ‘em ‘ooked on anyfin’ that makes ‘em easy to control and then strings ‘em out. Once e’s done or ‘e needs some gold ‘e sells ‘em to the flesh ‘ouses. Least… that’s wot I’ve ‘eard.”

  “Thank you for your help,” Nairo said. “We’ll let you get back to your… work.”

  “The offer to stay is still on the table,” Tommy said and then cringed when he saw the dark look on Nairo’s face.

  She yanked open the door and walked out. Ridley grinned at Tommy and followed her out of the factory.

  “This case keeps dragging us to the most disgusting places,” Nairo muttered to him as they walked back to their cab.

  “It ain’t that bad,” Ridley said. “At least we’re not wading through literal Human excrement and filth this time."

  "I'll take the Great Moota over than sleazeball anyday." Nairo muttered and Ridley chuckled.

  "Now on to the brothel!”

  *

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The Gilded Cage wasn’t hard to locate. While prostitution was technically illegal in Valderia, owning and managing a club with dozens of beautiful women of negotiable affection was in a legal grey area, and in Valderia legally grey was good enough to make mountains of gold. The brothel was located just East of the city proper, close enough that wealthy men could stumble to it after a night drinking in the private clubs of the city’s heart but far enough away that their wives wouldn’t see them leaving. Nairo looked up at the heavily curtained, black painted front of the club. It had a picture of a golden canary in a golden cage, painted in that same luminescent paint the Gnomes favoured. There was no name and nothing else to identify the building.

  “Doesn’t look like the type of place we can just walk in and start asking questions,” Nairo said to Ridley.

  They were posted up across the street watching the club.

  “Probably not,” Ridley said. “But we need to get in and talk to Mama Noor.”

  “We could try and sneak in but then it might be difficult to start asking questions if we’ve broken in,” Nairo said.

  “Naa no chance. The place will have security. And even if we did get in, how would we find her to have a chat? No, we’re gonna have to go in and ask for her.”

  “Just like that?”

  “I’ve got an idea but you’re not gonna like this.”

  Nairo looked at him curiously and then she shook her head.

  “No.’

  “It’s the only way we can get her in a room.”

  “No Ridley.”

  “C’mon Sally.”

  “Ridley.”

  “Sally.”

  Nairo glared at him, her lips pursed.

  “I promise I will never bring it up again.” Ridley said.

  “Never?”

  “Promise.” Ridley crossed his heart with a finger.

  “Fine,” Nairo said through gritted teeth.

  “Great, you’re gonna have to lose the coat.”

  Nairo huffed and pulled off her trench coat.

  “Really wish you didn’t always dress so… unappealing.”

  “Piss off.”

  Ridley grinned as he folded her coat over his arm.

  “Come on, and maybe unbutton a bit.” Ridley said as they walked across the street.

  “I will kick you straight in the…”

  “And don’t talk.”

  “What?”

  “Just play along.”

  Ridley approached the entrance to the Gilded Cage and tugged at the bell. They stood back and waited. Nairo tried to straighten her hair, feeling her cheeks already beginning to redden.

  “You’ll be fine Sarge,” Ridley muttered to her. “Just like going undercover.”

  The door opened and a well groomed doorman greeted them.

  “Good afternoon sir and madame, do you have a membership?” He had a very dry and polite manner, like a country club waiter.

  “No we don’t squire,” Ridley said.

  “Ahh well I’m afraid this is a private membership only club.” The doorman began to close the door.

  “Wait,” Ridley said. “We’re here looking for work.”

  “You are?”

  “Well I’m not, she is.” Ridley pointed his thumb over his shoulder at Nairo who gave a small, self conscious smile.

  “I’m afraid we aren’t looking to hire.” The door began closing again.

  “Hold on, do you know where she’s from?” Ridley said, lowering his voice.

  The doorman looked at Nairo from under his wispy eyebrows.

  “No sir.”

  “She’s from Aeloria,” Ridley whispered, waggling his eyebrows. “You know what they say about those Aelorian girls, right?”

  The doorman looked at Nairo again.

  “She’s a bit pale to be from Aeloria, no?”

  “She was trained in the finest pleasure houses, kept from sunlight to maintain her porcelain complexion,” Ridley lied smoothly. “She looks a bit rough now but that’s because of the journey she’s had getting here. Trust me, she’s the real deal.”

  The doorman thought this over.

  “And you are?” he asked Ridley.

  “I’m her translator,” Ridley replied. “Afraid she don’t speak much Forreste but she’s a quick learner. I was hoping to speak to Mama Noor and cut a deal for her.”

  The doorman looked from Ridley back to Nairo, who had subconsciously crossed her arms and was biting the inside of her cheek, trying to resist the urge to kick Ridley as hard as possible in his backside. Luckily, this made her look lost and nervous to the doorman. When he looked back at Ridley, there was a twinkling gold coin in the PI’s fingers.

  “Just a quick chat and if she says no, she says no.”

  The doorman took the gold and secreted it in an inside pocket before clearing his throat and nodding.

  “Come this way.”

  Ridley grinned and followed the doorman with Nairo trailing behind. The Gilded Cage was luxurious, dimly lit, and smelled of perfume and flowers. The black and purple motif continued on the inside. The walls were all painted black and with plush purple carpeting. Their way was lit with flickering gold candelabras. Gentle music seeped through the brothel.

  “You may wait here,” the doorman said, indicating a small lounge area with a bar.

  “Cheers,” Ridley said, swanning in, ordering a drink, and making himself immediately too comfortable.

  He threw himself down in a leather armchair, lit a smoke, and then signalled for Nairo to sit.

  “An Aelorian prostitute, really Ridley?” Nairo hissed at him. “That’s a horrible stereotype!”

  “Shh, you don’t speak Forreste remember,” Ridley said to her while sipping his drink.

  Nairo huffed and rolled her eyes. They sat there in silence for another ten minutes before the doorman came back.

  “Mama Noor will see you now,” he rasped.

  “Lovely,” Ridley said, jumping up and following the doorman.

  They were led through the brothel to a garden square that the building surrounded. There was a fountain in the middle of the garden with a statue of a Pixie spouting water high in the air. Around the Pixie was a small pond with glittering silver fish swimming around. The garden as almost silent other than the trickle of the fountain. The sounds of the city were blissfully blocked out by the high walls of the Gilded Cage.

  Sitting alone on a stone bench was a woman. She had a nutmeg complexion, with large dark eyes, and flawless skin. Her long black hair hung in a braid over her shoulder. She had a golden nose ring and long eyelashes. She wore a loose fitting all white dress with a light shawl pulled up over her head and shoulders in the fashion of the east. Her fingertips were all dyed a dark orange. Her long, graceful fingers were scattering breadcrumbs into the pond for the fish. Despite her wrinkle free skin and beauty, Nairo had to guess she was at least a decade older than her, maybe more. The woman was a captivating beauty. She radiated a sensual warmth and elegance that made Nairo feel like a gawky teenager in front of her. The woman looked up from under her heavy lashes as they approached and gave them a flicker of a smile.

  “Welcome to my garden.” Spoke perfect Forreste but had a heavy accent that Nairo couldn’t quite place. “How may I be of service?”

  Nairo waited for Ridley to speak and then looked at him. His cheeks had reddened slightly and his mouth moved like he was searching for words.

  “I am Mama Noor,” she said, flashing Ridley a perfect white toothed smile. “And you are?”

  “Oh ermm… I’m umm… who am I?” Ridley gave a nervous little laugh and scratched the back of his head. “Oh right, I’m Ridley.”

  “Reedley?” Mama Noor repeated, his name sounding lyrical in her mouth. “And are you here for business or pleasure?” The word pleasure dripped from her mouth with a crackle of sexual energy.

  “Oh…” Ridley said and then looked over his shoulder at Nairo as if remembering she was there. “Business. Definitely business.”

  “Ahh,” Mama Noor gave a disappointed sigh and then beckoned them to sit on the stone bench opposite her. “You have come with a girl from Aeloria?”

  “Err… yeah that’s right.” Ridley squirmed as if lying to this woman was somehow uncomfortable for him.

  Mama Noor turned her dark eyes on Nairo and judged her. She then spoke in a tongue Nairo had never heard before. Nairo looked at her and then at Ridley.

  “She is no Aelorian,” Mama Noor said, her tone unchanged. “Who are you?”

  Four men stepped out from the shadows of the garden, oneshots in their hands, trained directly on them. Ridley raised his hands and Nairo followed suit.

  “Hold on,” he said quickly. “We did lie, but we don’t intend you any harm.”

  “I have many enemies, Mr. Reedley,” Mama Noor said, not raising her eyes from the pond. “I would speak your intentions quickly and clearly.”

  “We’re private investigators,” Nairo said, taking over from the flustered Ridley. “We’re here investigating a possible homicide, and we were hoping you could assist us in our investigation.”

  Mama Noor looked at Nairo in surprise.

  “What an interesting response,” she said. “And who’s murder do you believe I have information about, former Sergeant Nairo?”

  Nairo blinked and tried to keep her face neutral.

  “You know who I am?”

  “Of course,” she replied. “The only thing more powerful in this city than gold and sex is information. I make sure to keep plenty of all three. I know who you are, but I still don’t know why you are here.”

  “May we lower our hands?” Nairo asked.

  Mama Noor thought for a moment and then nodded, her men lowering their weapons.

  “Thank you,” Nairo said. “We’re looking for information on Ozymandal Litteragi.”

  Nairo saw a flash of something in Mama Noor eyes at the mention of the name but then it disappeared.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “We have heard a lot of rumours about him. About his behaviour and the way that he treats his female employees.”

  “I assure you, whatever you have heard is only the tip of the spear,” Mama Noor replied.

  She threw the rest of the crumbs into the pond and gathered her shawl around her. She slid off one sandal and tucked her leg under her in an impossibly graceful movement.

  “So it’s true about his abuse of them?” Nairo asked.

  “Yes. Manny is one of those foul little creatures that never received enough love and attention from the fairer sex growing up. Now, he has power and influence, yet he is still a petty little man at heart.”

  “He sells the girls to you?” Nairo asked.

  “Sometimes and only the ones that reject his advances. I have no use for the addicts and the broken girls. I run a clean high class business here, Ms. Nairo, and I only deal with Manny to get those girls away from him before he can sink his claws into them.” Her lip curled in distaste every time she said his name.

  “And what does he do to these girls?”

  “Bullies and manipulates mostly. Bribes them with promises of stardom and then threatens them once his promises prove false. These girls come to Valderia with big dreams of becoming stars. They come without family, without friends, without gold, and most of them do not even have a place to sleep. They are easy prey for a predator like him.”

  “Or for you,” Nairo said before she could stop herself.

  Mama Noor looked at her, cocking her head to one side so a loose strand of hair perfectly framed her heart shaped face.

  “You disapprove of my business, Sergeant?”

  “I disagree with vulnerable women being trafficked and pimped,” Nairo said bluntly.

  “As do I,” Mama Noor replied. “My girls are here of their own volition.”

  “And how many women would choose to sell their bodies if they had any other options?”

  “And how many other options are there for young women in Valderia?”

  “Plenty.”

  “Where they won’t be mauled by their bosses? Have promotions dangled at the end of sexual favours? Where they won’t have to deal with the indignity of lecherous superiors and coworkers who don’t take them seriously unless they dress and act like men?” Mama Noor ran her gaze over Nairo’s trousers and workman's shirt.

  “I never had to,” Nairo replied frostily.

  “Then you are one of the lucky ones. You should not look down on those of us who have not been so fortunate.”

  Nairo felt a blush creep into her cheeks.

  “I’m not looking down on them,” she said hotly. “I’m looking down on the people who can talk so casually about buying and selling women like their joints at a butcher’s shop!”

  “Sarge,” Ridley warned, finding his voice again. “We’re not here to debate the morality of the sex trade.”

  “Only once you have been sold and bought like meat can you appreciate the hand of a kind butcher,” Mama Noor said, a deep sadness in her eyes.

  Nairo saw it and felt abashed, her anger dissipating.

  “Miss Mama Noor,” Ridley said, trying to get the interview back on track.

  “Just Mama Noor is fine,” she said.

  “Has Manny ever been violent towards these girls? Do you think he would be capable of killing if his advances were rejected?”

  Mama Noor ran a finger down the hem of her shawl.

  “I think any man is capable of violence, especially one whose pride is so fragile. If you are asking me has he ever been violent? Then no, not that I am aware. He is manipulative, he is predatory, but as far as I know, he has never forced himself on any of his girls or hurt them physically. Manny wishes to be… lusted over. He needs to feel like these women want him. He would not take them by force.”

  “And if the girl of his dreams chose another man over him?” Ridley said.

  “As I said, all men are capable of great harm. Now I thank you for coming here today. If there is nothing else you wish to indulge in, then I must ask you to leave.”

  "We still have more questions," Nairo said.

  "And yet I find myself woefully short of answers." Mama Noor gave her a brief smile and then reached for her bag of breadcrumbs again.

  “Thank you for your time.” Ridley stood up.

  Nairo glared at Mama Noor and slowly rose herself.

  “Please come again Sergeant,” Mama Noor said. “I find you fascinating.”

  “Unlikely,” Nairo said before turning and walking away with Ridley behind her.

  Mama Noor sighed, adjusted her shawl, and went back to feeding her fish.

  “What do you think?” Ridley asked once they were back outside. “Manny our man for this?”

  “He sounds like an utter piece of shit,” Nairo said as he shoved her arms into her coat. “Could be that getting rejected by LaRue, her choosing Fred over him, and then her planning to quit and bankrupt him finally pushed him over the edge, and he snapped.”

  Ridley nodded as he lit a smoke.

  “The only thing that doesn’t make sense is the method,” Ridley said. “Too calculated to be a crime of passion.”

  “You heard her in there,” Nairo said. “He’s a manipulator. That means he plans and he plays games. It might not have been a crime of passion but just cold calculated revenge.”

  “I can see that,” Ridley said. “But until we’ve got some solid evidence, we can’t make a move on him. And we still have no idea why he would take out Quinn as well.”

  “Then we better get back on his trail and find some evidence.”