He returned the photo. ‘She may have danced for us once or twice.’
‘Do you keep records?’ Kenton asked, barely civil.
‘Sure. We keep lists and till receipts when the girls check in for the night.’
‘Till receipts?’ Kenton shook her head, not understanding.
‘They pay for the privilege of dancing, at the till in the changing room.’
‘They pay?’
‘Like I said, lady, it’s the best club in town. They choose a name, and they pay their £100, they keep the tips, and everyone’s laughing.’
As she opened her mouth to speak, Silver silenced Kenton with another look. Now was most definitely not the time to unleash her feminist principles.
The young waitress brought the champagne Larry had ordered now, bending over him to expose a deep cleavage, trailing her talons down his arm as she poured him a glass.
‘Thanks, baby,’ he smiled at her, his button eyes disappearing into his oily dough face.
Kenton looked like she was about to spontaneously combust.
‘So, when did you last see her?’ Silver asked.
‘Hard to say. Few weeks probably. Like I say, they come, they go. She wasn’t one of the best.’
‘She was a highly trained dancer,’ Kenton snapped.
‘So? As long as they know how to shake their booty, I couldn’t care less if they trained with Britney Spears.’
‘That’s hardly what I meant.’
‘Oh?’ He stared at her. ‘What did you mean?’
‘Never mind,’ Silver intercepted. ‘So she definitely hasn’t been in the past week?’
‘Definitely not. I’ve been here every night.’
‘But you’ll double-check,’ Silver said firmly. ‘Now.’
The American sighed. ‘But I’ll double-check, now.’
‘And you won’t mind if I ask the girls. Check if anyone’s seen her?’
‘It’s crappy for business—’ Larry broke off, defeated. He certainly did mind, that was clear; but he had no option. Huffing and puffing, he heaved his great bulk off the banquette, and headed back to the office, where perhaps the emaciated Gigi could soften the blow of police presence in the club. Or blow the man softly – Silver grinned at his own wit.
As Silver and Kenton approached the changing room, a line of around fifteen girls queued at the door, chatting idly, texting on pink phones, preparing for the next, busier shift. A muscular Eurasian girl in a vest top and jeans was on the till just inside the room, taking the money.
‘Brandy,’ a small curvaceous redhead in a powder-blue tracksuit passed her cash over.
‘The other Brandy’s in already,’ the cashier said, without looking up.
‘Bollocks.’ The redhead sighed. ‘Paige then.’
‘Paige it is.’ The cashier rang up the hundred pounds and jotted her name in a notebook. ‘Next!’
Silver stopped the redhead as she dumped her bag at the long mirror and showed her Sadie’s picture. ‘Do you know this girl?’
‘Who wants to know?’ She eyed him warily. Her freckles were so infinite the pale skin between was almost entirely hidden.
‘I do.’ He flashed his badge.
‘Shit.’ Her yellow cat eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down, weighing up her options. ‘Yeah, I do,’ she said in the end, reluctantly. ‘That’s Misty. What’s she done now?’
‘Nothing. When did you last see her?’
‘Not for a bit.’
‘Can you remember when? It’s important.’
She thought about it for a moment. ‘Maybe two weeks. Maybe last week, actually. I had flu; she was in on my first shift back. I remember cos she gave me some painkillers. She kept boasting about going away. She was getting on my tits actually.’
‘Going away where?’
‘Dunno. Somewhere flash. Some hippy dippy expensive place.’
‘What kind of place? With who?’
‘I really don’t know. We weren’t that close.’ She kicked her trainers off and started unzipping her tracksuit. ‘Sorry, but I’m on at three.’
‘What did you mean, what’s she done now?’
‘Nothing.’ She peeled off her t-shirt, revealing large rose-coloured nipples.
Silver averted his eyes. ‘You must have meant something.’
She reached over for her corset, brushing her breasts deliberately against his arm. He stepped back.
‘She’d had a warning. From Larry and the big boss.’
‘For what?’
‘For snorting coke in the toilet.’ She squeezed herself into the lacy black number. ‘Half the girls are bang on it, but it don’t do to get caught, you know. Misty got careless.’
‘So what happened?’
As she struggled with the clasp on her top, her gaze was distracted. Silver glanced round; the Eurasian girl was standing behind him, hands on hips.
‘I dunno. Ask Larry. It’s not my business.’ The redhead sat and extended one leg almost up to her ear to pull on a thigh-high patent black boot. ‘We keep ourselves to ourselves, know what I’m saying? We’ve got bills to pay, mouths to feed.’
A gorgeous black girl bounced