front, it had suffered a steady decline. A large sign on the front advertised the rebuilding of Dreamland, a former theme park, once a major attraction of the region. Behind the sign a huge metal skeleton of a rollercoaster towered above the high fence, visibly rusting. There was no evidence of its restoration and the whole area had an atmosphere of decay. Ian turned off the coastal road up a narrow street that led around the back of the arcades. He parked on a double yellow line next to a couple of large waste bins at the bottom of a metal fire escape.
The entrance to the club was a small dirty black door. As he approached it he felt rather than heard the vibration of music, a dull regular bass thumping. At the same time he made out the sign, ‘Over 21s Only’ beside the door. A massive bruiser of a man with a shaven head and crooked nose materialised from nowhere, demanding an entry fee.
‘I’m a non-paying member.’
‘No one goes in without paying.’
Ian squared up to him, a head taller than the bouncer, and almost as bulky. He reached into his pocket for his warrant card.
‘I belong to a bigger club than this.’
With that, he barged past the other man and pushed open the door.
‘Hang about,’ the bouncer called after him. ‘You can’t just walk in unannounced –’
Ian took no notice. He didn’t need to wait for permission from some jumped up thug in a stab vest before entering the premises.
A powerful, artificially sweet, fragrance hit him, making him blink in the dimly lit hallway where a voluptuous woman with long dark curly hair was standing in front of a red velvet curtain.
‘Hello, handsome.’
She posed provocatively for him and fiddled with a zip on the front of her dress, pulling it down to expose an unnaturally deep cleavage. As the zip slipped down, her eyes moved suggestively up and down Ian’s body. He wondered if this was what women meant when they complained about men undressing them with their eyes.
‘Have you come to watch the show?’ she drawled in husky tones.
It was a tawdry opening move in a game designed to fleece him, but there was something seductive about her sordid performance that was hard to resist.
‘I’m looking for a girl called Della,’ he said brusquely, shifting his gaze from her exposed breasts.
The woman’s stance altered as abruptly as though she had been slapped. She straightened up, adjusted her dress and glared at him.
‘You a cop?’
Ian hesitated only a second before pulling out his warrant card. There was no point in trying to conceal his identity. Either a woman called Della worked there or she didn’t. Just then the doorman burst into the hallway.
‘Pigs,’ he called out.
The woman looked past Ian.
‘You took your time,’ she snapped.
Her voice had lost its softness, and she looked older than Ian had first thought.
‘He pushed his way in –’
‘Get back on the door and do what you’re paid to do. Moron,’ she added under her breath. ‘Bloody useless moron.’
The bouncer had already disappeared outside.
She switched her attention back to Ian. Her manner was so business-like it was hard to believe this was the same woman who had been coming on to him only a moment before.
‘Now, what did you say you wanted? You can’t hang around here all night. Are you on your own? This isn’t a raid, is it?’
‘There’s no raid. I’m looking for a girl called Della. Is she here?’
His hopes that she would shake her head, with a bemused expression on her face, vanished at once.
‘What’s she done?’
Ian was tempted to tell the woman to mind her own business, but he needed her co-operation.
‘She hasn’t done anything. She’s a potential witness in a case we’re investigating and I need to speak to her at once. It’s important.’
‘You’re impatient,’ the woman teased, twisting her body with a flicker of her practised routine. ‘Quite a looker for a cop. I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re a
The entrance to the club was a small dirty black door. As he approached it he felt rather than heard the vibration of music, a dull regular bass thumping. At the same time he made out the sign, ‘Over 21s Only’ beside the door. A massive bruiser of a man with a shaven head and crooked nose materialised from nowhere, demanding an entry fee.
‘I’m a non-paying member.’
‘No one goes in without paying.’
Ian squared up to him, a head taller than the bouncer, and almost as bulky. He reached into his pocket for his warrant card.
‘I belong to a bigger club than this.’
With that, he barged past the other man and pushed open the door.
‘Hang about,’ the bouncer called after him. ‘You can’t just walk in unannounced –’
Ian took no notice. He didn’t need to wait for permission from some jumped up thug in a stab vest before entering the premises.
A powerful, artificially sweet, fragrance hit him, making him blink in the dimly lit hallway where a voluptuous woman with long dark curly hair was standing in front of a red velvet curtain.
‘Hello, handsome.’
She posed provocatively for him and fiddled with a zip on the front of her dress, pulling it down to expose an unnaturally deep cleavage. As the zip slipped down, her eyes moved suggestively up and down Ian’s body. He wondered if this was what women meant when they complained about men undressing them with their eyes.
‘Have you come to watch the show?’ she drawled in husky tones.
It was a tawdry opening move in a game designed to fleece him, but there was something seductive about her sordid performance that was hard to resist.
‘I’m looking for a girl called Della,’ he said brusquely, shifting his gaze from her exposed breasts.
The woman’s stance altered as abruptly as though she had been slapped. She straightened up, adjusted her dress and glared at him.
‘You a cop?’
Ian hesitated only a second before pulling out his warrant card. There was no point in trying to conceal his identity. Either a woman called Della worked there or she didn’t. Just then the doorman burst into the hallway.
‘Pigs,’ he called out.
The woman looked past Ian.
‘You took your time,’ she snapped.
Her voice had lost its softness, and she looked older than Ian had first thought.
‘He pushed his way in –’
‘Get back on the door and do what you’re paid to do. Moron,’ she added under her breath. ‘Bloody useless moron.’
The bouncer had already disappeared outside.
She switched her attention back to Ian. Her manner was so business-like it was hard to believe this was the same woman who had been coming on to him only a moment before.
‘Now, what did you say you wanted? You can’t hang around here all night. Are you on your own? This isn’t a raid, is it?’
‘There’s no raid. I’m looking for a girl called Della. Is she here?’
His hopes that she would shake her head, with a bemused expression on her face, vanished at once.
‘What’s she done?’
Ian was tempted to tell the woman to mind her own business, but he needed her co-operation.
‘She hasn’t done anything. She’s a potential witness in a case we’re investigating and I need to speak to her at once. It’s important.’
‘You’re impatient,’ the woman teased, twisting her body with a flicker of her practised routine. ‘Quite a looker for a cop. I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re a
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