BLOOD MOON RISING - english version

~ Chapter 2 ~

"Rose is dead."
The teacup slipped out of the man's hands and shattered on the bare floor. Jonathan Hall slumped down in his chair, his narrow shoulders shaking as he tried to keep his composure.
"What did you say?" he gasped and the petite blonde, who had delivered the news, flinched. The woman in the armchair next to Hall groaned quietly. She was dressed only in a semi-transparent robe over her tightly laced corset and nothing more, but she didn't seem to mind; she wore her sparse clothes with elegance. With her legs crossed, she bent forward and set down her own teacup much more gently on the table.
"Olivia, please ...explain that," she said in a tense voice. The blonde bit her lips and nervously twisted the fabric of her plaid skirt, looking almost like a schoolgirl who hadn't done her homework.
"She did not come home. Sean went to meet her from her last date, but then they had found her and called the police." Olivia rubbed herself across her arms as if she was feeling very cold suddenly. "He acted swiftly and immediately hired a private investigator in the hope that the public would not notice... and the police would treat it as a private matter. Oh, Catherine, what are we going to do now?"
Dry sobbing shook the man as Olivia spoke, but the two women didn't pay any attention to him, they knew they had to wait until he spoke to them again on his own. Catherine, the woman in the armchair, stroked thoughtfully through her red colored curls and sighed deeply.
Olivia sat down on the armrest of her chair. Catherine and she were good friends, and although the redhead was the Madam of the brothel "Paradis", she never was arrogant or mean to Olivia.
"He did well. Remind me to thank him for his prudence. I can't imagine what happens when this comes out," Catherine replied quietly, leaning her head against Olivia's shoulder. She seemed to need the support, she was trembling all over, as was Hall. Rose had been popular, a cheerful, pretty blonde and Jonathan Hall's chosen darling, almost like his wife and thus the target of constant, sometimes impudent jokes.
"Cat, why Rose...?" sniffed Olivia, who could no longer hide her own tears. They rolled down her round cheeks and into the collar of her blouse. "Bianca said it is her own fault if anything happened to her, since she wanted to run off with her lover and..."
"Don't be stupid, Olivia." Hall interrupted them abruptly. The tall, slender man stood up and looked at the women from grey, weeping eyes. The white handkerchief in his hand was damp and wrinkled, but he took it to his eyes again and gently dabbed them. "She did not flee. It was murder. She had a customer... he did this to her."
"The others whisper, Mr. Hall... there was this man who was always too..." Olivia replied quietly, but Hall cut her off again.
"Stupid gossiping. Catherine, you will make these whispers stop."
The woman nodded devotedly and took Olivia's hand in hers.
"I don't think she ran away neither. If so she would have left in her best clothes and especially not leave her jewelry behind." she added to Hall's words. "Look, Olivia, I bet, all her things are still there. She would never have liked you girls to divide up her possessions between you. No, Olivia. There's something wrong here."
The blonde one had suddenly goose bumps all over her back. Catherine was right.
Jonathan Hall had run the "Paradise" very successfully for many years and it was known that he treated his girls strict, but good. Rose had been proud to be a very popular woman and had always appreciated the attention in form of jewellery and trinkets. No, she would probably have been one of the last to run away - although there was a chance that she might have played a really good theater and fooled everyone lately, only to escape under the pretext of a booking by a client. But leave her savings behind? No one, especially no prostitute, was that stupid.
Hall gave a little sigh. He had regained his composure and put up the facade of the unapproachable man again. His eyes were still red, but around his mouth a determined move could be seen.
"Well, Catherine... I want you to lock Rose's room for now and don't let anyone in. Tell the girls she's been booked for longer and will be back soon." he instructed her, and Catherine nodded and pulled her robe tighter before she rose. Olivia slipped off the armrest and smoothed her skirt.
"No gossip and rumors around here are allowed." he then added in a more stern voice and again the redhead nodded devotedly before turning to leave. Goosebumps, which was not only due to her sparse clothing, suddenly covered her arms. Olivia next to her hung on to her and Cat was grateful for her soft hand stroking her arm soothingly.
Hall in the meanwhile had turned to the newspaper and the two women looked at the man for a moment, their hand already on the doorknob. Handsome, very slender and with a certain casual arrogance in his behaviour, Jonathan Hall was quite attractive and they could imagine a worse master, yet all the girls were always a little irritated in his presence. There was something about him that they did not know how to interpret and his sometimes eccentric behaviour and moods could be intimidating if one did not know him better. He never got rough with the ladies and gentlemen who shared his bed and yet ... under his elegant surface lurked something that no one dared to wake. Nobody seemed to really know him and nobody knew where he actually came from. One day he simply took over the "Paradise" from it's former owner, who suddenly disappeared without a trace, and in a few years he created a veritable temple of lust and pleasure for the predominantly male clientele. Catherine had been a part of it for almost three years now, her friend Olivia a little longer and both had inevitably come to terms with life in it. It was always a better fate than that of the unfortunate prostitutes at the harbour.

Catherine's silk slippers, unlike Olivia's buttoned boots, made hardly any noise as they climbed the grand staircase. The brothel was located in a spacious French colonial-style house that had served as a hotel for years and still retained some of its former elegance despite its years and slow decay. Even if the furniture was a little bumped and the wallpaper rolled up in some places, it still had its charm which a little dust couldn't harm. From the walls, erotic paintings in gold painted frames looked down on the two women, who had now reached the first floor, where Catherine called a corner room hers. Olivia suddenly gave her a little nudge in the side.
"Do you wanna look?"
"Hmm?" Catherine suppressed a yawn.
"Well, her things. See if they're still there." Olivia's grief suddenly seemed to have disappeared. "I bet you - Bianca's already upstairs picking out the best bits." Her eyes shone with anticipation and she was already rubbing her hands.
"Yes, I bet." Cat yawned again and rubbed her eyes. "Livvy, we haven't got time for this now. I have a job for you."