The Café (complete story)

Chapter 2: Helping The Police With Their Enquiries

Breeeeeep, breeeep, breeeep.......breeeep, breeeep, breeeep

"You've come through to the voicemail of Eve Shepard, please leave a message after the tone." beeeeeep.

"Hi Eve, it's Octavia. I'm really sorry for the way I acted, I'd like to talk" Click.

Eve wasn't avoiding Octavia, she really wasn't available to talk. She was, to use the euphemism, "helping the Police with their enquiries".

Detective Isiah Johnson one of the Yard's rising Black detectives was seeking to make a name for himself. Collaring the murderer of two women would be a nice feather in his cap. He was not prepared to let a person of interest leave the station without squeezing the last morsel of information from them. Isiah was sure Eve wasn't directly involved in the murders but while he admired the way she held up under intense interrogation he was convinced that she held vital information that could lead to the killer.

"So, you're a lesbian and you used prostitutes for your sordid kicks.....hubby not doing it at home then?" teased Isiah, once again invading Eve's personal space as he tried to elicit more information by getting her to contradict her previous statement.

"No," she responded wearily batting away yet another attempt at undermining her credibility, "for the last time, I used it as a cover to meet Lynsey so she could escape."

Her release brought her to the attention of the media, a situation which lit the fuse for more arguments with Alan. Her main concern though had been the welfare of Angel and her baby. A person whom she had still not met. It took her husband to bring her back to reality by informing her that whoever the killer was, they might not be so happy that Eve was still alive. It was a chilling thought but she knew he was right, so despite her own concerns about Angel, she had to just let it go.

Octavia had been true to her word. Where before they were like two stags circling each other in anticipation of a massive fight, reconciled, Eve and Octavia acted like the newest and Bestest of Best Friends Forever. They always were.

Eve rejected all offers of an exclusive interview, in the same manner a Princess would swat away a swarm of eager but morally suspect suitors from her kingdom. Besides he indoors was quite clear on her not getting herself involved and she had resolved to respect that. After all, she'd just regained a friend, she didn't now want to lose a husband.

"My names Roger Swan, Swanny to me mates" was the introduction from yet another reporter. Something about him struck Eve. It wasn't his badly kept greasy hair. Nor the reddening on the tip of his nose which suggested a hard drinker. It wasn't even the heavily nicotine stained fingers. He knew about Angel and the baby. That wasn't even public knowledge.

He was a local reporter who had worked for year's on the issue of the prostitutes in the area. He just needed some kind of breakthrough to help the Police find the men behind the women. He knew more about Lynsey's background than Eve could ever glean in the short time she'd known her.

"I'll tell you what" said Roger, "if we shared information, we'll be able to find Angel, no Police involvement, no press, cross my heart. Later on it might help me track the men behind the women, but you don't have to get involved in that. This is a win-win for us." It was a compelling argument which swayed her. She was happy to form this unlikely alliance as it meant finding Angel with minimal involvement from herself.

When Eve asked Octavia for her opinion Octavia simply replied that all she wanted to do was shove him into a car wash fully clothed to remove the lingering odour of tobacco and dry out that greasy hair of his with her favourite brand of bleach.

It was a Sunday morning when Alan's fury woke Eve from her deep and comfortable sleep. She was too drowsy to work out what he was saying. All she knew was that he was angry, very angry. He said his piece, threw a newspaper on the bed and the door shuddered as he stormed out of the room.

Eve was still groggy from the untimely jolt from the warmth and security of her duvet. Her husband often ran on a Sunday morning as part of his keep fit routine. He would take the opportunity to buy a national paper which was now scattered around her bed. She slowly gathered up the paper and opening the front page her eyes bulged out of its socket in horror. The headline read "Police raid clears Park Vale of prostitutes." The headlines jump started her from sleepy mode to fully awake. As she read down the page, she held her mouth in horror.

The lead reporter was none other than Roger Swan. Reading through the lines of the article it was clear what he had done. After their initial meeting they were supposed to meet for a progress report. His phone was nearly always on voice mail. When she did phone his office, he was always going into a meeting, still in a meeting or between a meeting giving him little time to talk. When she did manage to collar him his response was always a variation of, "I'm still making a few discrete enquires." or, "there really is nothing concrete to report yet."

In her eagerness to track Angel she had given him information in relation to how she secured a place of safety for Lynsey. It was a long process involving a number of discrete calls to women's group good at hiding women from vengeful men. As she read the expose it was clear that he'd used those contacts, got someone to pose as her and then extracted additional information. He then parcelled it all up, handed the information to the Police, but not before he was able to secure employment and a front page scoop at one of the nationals. She'd been well and truly shafted.

While reading the paper Eve wondered aloud within earshot of Alan "What type of company is Mudlark.?"

By now Alan had calmed down. He looked at her as his face turned white for a moment, contorting itself as if presented with a Mastermind clincher question, "well I don't know." his face returning to its more rosy pink as he enquired, "why do you ask?"

"Well, the Police raided a series of houses to arrest the prostitutes. All owned by this Mudlark company. According to this article, this company purchased houses in this area to house the prostitutes. Companies House records indicate none of the Directors are legit."

Alan had not bothered to read the article. He would often buy a paper while running with the intention to read it later. Today he never got round to doing so. But he did glance at the deadline and saw some information on Sky News. Eve's name wasn't in the paper but once he drew the strands of a puzzle together he flew off the handle, accusing her of being involved in the story in some way.

Eve had managed to soothe her husband's anger with her wholesome denial of involvement with the story. It was a white lie. After Alan's initial warning she had fully intended to give up her quest to find Angel and get more answers about the death of Lynsey. For all his faults, Roger had re-lit her enthusiasm, but now, if she was to continue, she needed to be much more discrete and trust nobody.

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