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3. the whore

"Well here we are." Melanie said, pointing at a rather nice looking house at the end of the road. It was two stories tall, made entirely of wood. Each floor had multiple windows, flashing in the setting sun. The detective whistled, slightly impressed by the huge construction. "I know..." Melanie said, shaking her head. "Disgusting isn't it. How can evil things be so rewarding?"

"I don't know." The detective stated, plainly.

"Do you know your way back?" Melanie asked him, tucking her hair behind her ear. The detective shook his head. "Okay...then I guess I'll just wait over here for you." Melanie sat down on the small brick wall that outlined the dirt road.

The detective moved past her and made his way towards the front door of the house, giving it a hard rap. It didn't open right away and the detective had to knock a few more times until it did. An older woman opened it. The first thing he noticed was her dress. It was elegant and lavish, much more elegant than he had expected. She held a drink in one hand, sipping on it slowly.

"Service doesn't start until later. But if you have the money, we can make an exception." The woman said, sipping on what seemed to be a glass of scotch. "I'm the proprietor here. What kind of girl are you looking for? Young or old? Blonde or redhead?" The woman gestured towards Melanie who still sat at the far end of the lawn.

"Actually..." The detective turned back to the proprietor, pulling his badge out and flashing it to her. "I'm here investigating the death of one of your workers? Esme Wilkinson?" The proprietor took a sharp intake of breath, her faint smile curdling like spoiled milk.

"Nasty bit of business." She said, opening the door a little more to let the detective in. "Poor thing must have endured so much." The detective stepped into the house, letting the warmth waft over him. He set his luggage aside and turned back to the proprietor.

"I heard she had a friend here. Agatha Shelby? I'd like to speak to her if you don't mind." The detective said, pulling out his notepad.

"Follow me. Hopefully, she's up to it." The proprietor said, leading him into the hallway towards a row of doors.

"Just how many girls work here anyway?" The detective asked, pointing towards all the doors.

"Twenty in total. But they don't just work for me you know. They're my children. We take care of each other." The proprietor explained as she led him to the last door in the hallway.

"Right..." The detective said, still unconvinced. He knew the horrors of the sex industry and it wasn't anything to meddle with. The proprietor knocked on the door roughly.

"Aggie dear? There's a man out here who would like to speak to you." She called out in a booming voice.

"I'm not ready yet, mother!" The girl inside hollered, her voice muffled by the door.

"He just wants to ask you a few questions. It's about Esme." The proprietor said. There was silence for a long time until the detective heard the door click open and a girl stood in the entrance, barely older than Melanie. She had jet black hair and blue eyes.

"I'm the detective heading her case." The detective said, flashing his badge and notepad once again. Agatha opened the door fully and let him in, waving at the proprietor. Her room was small, cluttered with various oddities. It smelled of sex and sweat, two smells that the detective hated.

"Sit down," Agatha said, pointing towards a small wooden chair in front of the dresser. "What do you want to know?" She asked, sitting down on the bed opposite to him.

"What was the nature of your relationship with Esme?" The detective asked.

"We were friends." Agatha replied, biting her nails, nervously. "She was like my older sister. She was older than me and she was here longer. So when I first came, she kind of took me under her wing."

"Just friends?" The detective added. Agatha was hiding something and he could see it in her eyes. She was a really bad liar.

"We...we were lovers..." Agatha stuttered, blushing softly and looking away from him. The detective nodded, quickly jotting it down.

"Anyone else know about that?" He asked her. She shook her head. "Esme was held captive for more than twenty days before she died. Do you know who would want to do that to her?"

"Esme knew a lot of people..." Agatha shrugged. "She was the most popular girl here. Every guy in Edgecomb wanted to sleep with her. Wanted her for themselves. It could've been any of them."

"Did she ever talk to you about her experiences with clients? Did she mention anyone who seemed suspicious?" The detective asked, going through the questions in his head. Agatha's eyes went misty for a moment, like she was searching for some half-forgotten memory.

"Actually, a couple of days before she went missing, she was acting kind of strange." Agatha said, furrowing her brows.

"Strange how?"

"Well she was talking about leaving the brothel. Actually having a decent job. Getting really into religion. Started going to church again, but only to make confessions." Agatha explained. The detective clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes.

"St. Martin's church?" He asked.

"What other church is there?" Agatha scoffed. The detective nodded, writing her words down. Why had Father Solomon not mentioned that? This was going to be a hole in his line of questioning. If he lied about one thing, he could have been lying about everything.

"Where was she the night she went missing?" The detective asked her.

"She went to visit a friend." Agatha said, shaking her head. "She never came back." The detective's attention perked up at that. This was a new lead. He quickly noted it down and looked back up at Agatha.

"Who was the friend? Was he a client?" The detective inquired, impatiently.

"She wouldn't tell me his name, but I'm sure he wasn't a client." Agatha said, crossing her arms over her chest. "She said he was just a friend. She never lied to me. She loved me. And I...loved her..." Agatha's eyes brimmed with tears and she buried her face in her hands. Knowing he wouldn't get any more than that out of her, the detective stood up, putting his notepad back in his coat and straightening it out.

"Thank you for your cooperation. If you remember anything else at any time that can aid my investigation, please let me know." He said, before turning towards the door. He stopped for a moment, looking back and watching Agatha sob. He wanted to say something to comfort her but he couldn't find the words. "I'm going to find who did it. Esme will see justice for her suffering. I promise." With that, he left the room.