Fallen Gods

Fifty- Seven

Neil Mcllhenney smiled at the woman as she led him through to what passed for her office in the New Town basement. "I never thought of you as a businesswoman, Joanne," he said.

"What are you talking about, man?" she retorted. "I've been in this business for years."

"Maybe," he agreed, 'but on the shop floor, not in management. What happened?"

She shrugged her broad shoulders; she looked much different from the last time he had seen her, when she was working the streets and had picked up the wrong customer. Joanne Virtue was still a striking woman, but the blonde dye and heavy make-up had gone. Her hair was back to what he had guessed was its natural brown, and her face was scrubbed and fresh. He had wondered on occasion about her age; now, without the cosmetic cover-up, he could see that she was in her early forties, a little younger than he had imagined.

"Too many close calls," she admitted. "I can take care of myself, but every night you go out on the game, you push your luck a bit. I'd been at it too long, and I was getting nervous. A guy said the wrong thing to me once, and I had a knife at his throat in a second. He nearly pissed himself, then he started raising bloody hell. I wound up having to give him money to stop him calling the polis."

"Would he not have settled for a freebie?"

"What would he have used?" Joanne asked, dryly. "Ah'd scared all the lead out of his pencil."

Mcllhenney grinned. "So how did you get this job? Or do you own this place?"

"Christ, no. I manage it for an ex-client, a bloke called Kenny Bass, from Falkirk. Officially he's in the scrap metal business, but he's got other things too, like this place, and another one in Broxburn.

He's a nice enough guy, Kenny, but…"

"Sure, he can get a bit severe if he's crossed." The inspector nodded.

"I know Kenny Bass. I know what he owns and I know how close to the edge he comes. But he's nothing. If he ever gives you any bother,

Joanne, just you tell me."

"Thanks, Mr. Mcllhenney; I'll bear that in mind. Not that I've got any problems with him, though. For a while I thought I might have, but

I got it sorted." She reached to her left and pulled open the top drawer of a metal filing cabinet. "Do you want a whisky?" she asked.

His eyebrows shot up. "Hell no! It's not even midday yet."

She glanced at her watch. "It's only a minute or two short. Anyway, that never stopped you before."

"Times have changed."

"And mountains have moved, eh. So what did you want to talk to me about?"

"About your recent bit of bother, but first I want to ask you about something else. I've fallen by some information that you might have had, shall we say, professional dealings in the past with a colleague of mine, Detective Superintendent Jay. Is that true, Jo?"

"You don't really want to know that, do you?"

"Too damn right I do," said Mcllhenney. "I've got a new job now, one that means I want to know everything."

"Ah," she exclaimed, 'you have, have you? I heard big Mario'd been moved, right enough. Some boy, him; his uncle's barely deid, and he starts ridin' his cousin. Not that I've got anything against Paula, mind; she's got a touch of the saint about her, has that girl."

"Never mind that; they're only business partners, anyway. So what about Jay?"

Joanne nodded, once, briefly. "Yes," she whispered. "He was only an inspector then, though. He used to call by when I was working, and if there was no one about we'd do a bit of business."

"You mean he paid you?"

"Don't be daft."

"You mean he accepted sexual favours? In exchange for what?"

"Nothing, Neil; he never asked for anything, and I was never stupid enough to ask him for money. I never had any police bother around that time though, so I put it down to expenses, so to speak."

"Do you still hear from him?"

"No, not since he got his big job down in Leith." She looked at him nervously. "What are you going to do with that?" she asked.

"Nothing at all," he told her, 'unless I need to."

"Why would you need to?"

"If there was ever any thought that he might be promoted again; I couldn't have that."

"Just keep my name out of it, then."

"No worries on that score. Now, this other business; the angry residents versus the White Rabbit sauna… some name that, by the way."

"Better than a sign of the zodiac, like most of them."

He laughed. "I understand', he went on, 'that the local petition got knocked back by the council, against the run of play, so they said."

"I don't know about that; as I understand it the committee just told them tae wind their necks in. It's no' that bad here, Neil," she protested. "I run this place properly. The guys that were making the trouble came from the pub on the corner, no' here. My customers are as quiet as mice when they leave here; the last thing any of them want is to draw attention to themselves."

"I'll accept that," Mcllhenney conceded, 'but you've left out a bit of the story, haven't you; the bit about you asking Agnes Maley for help."

Joanne Virtue flushed. "I never did," she exclaimed.

The inspector frowned. "Have you just been bitten by the stupidity fly or something?" he asked. "Because that's what lying to me would be; downright bloody stupid. I'm not suggesting that you went to Agnes; I know that you did. What I want you to tell me is, why. This place isn't even in her council ward, yet she laid down the law in the Labour group to have it kept open, when she's had other places shut on her own patch. So please don't piss me about; I don't have time for that. Just tell me the story," he said, 'the whole bloody story. Why Agnes?"

She took a bottle of Bell's and a glass from the filing cabinet drawer, poured herself a double and knocked it back. "Because she's a customer," she replied.

"What, you mean she comes here for a sauna?"

Joanne looked at him scornfully. "I think that fly's bitten you now," she chuckled. "She's a lesbian, a dyke, a daddy dyke at that, to be fairly polite about it. She's discreet though; keeps it well away from home. There's one girl working here who's prepared to… entertain her. I don't like it, but I put up with it, because if I didn't, I'd be shut down in a minute, and that would piss off Kenny'

Mcllhenney did not even try to stop the grin from spreading across his face. "Is she a regular visitor?"

"Monday evenings and Thursday evenings, regular as clockwork."

"Couldn't be better," said the detective. "What time do your girls start to arrive?"

"About four o'clock."

"Fine, that gives us time to set up."

"To set up what?"

"A hidden camera."

"What!" she shrieked, fear showing instantly on her face. "You can't do that. I won't let you."

"I'll bet you will."

"But she'll kill me! Or she'll go to Kenny, and he really will."

"None of these things will happen."

"I won't. I'm telling you I won't."

The grin vanished in a flash. Mcllhenney reached out a massive hand, and seized the woman by the chin, twisting her face round until she was looking into his eyes; there was none of his usual amiability in them, only a look that went right into her bones. "I want you to think about something, Jo," he whispered. "Who scares you the most? Agnes Maley, or Kenny Bass… or me?"