The Crucifix Killer - Chris Carter [90]
‘Is this it? Is this everything we have on her?’ he asked as he studied the single-page document Garcia had given him.
‘Yeah, she’s clean, no prior convictions, no arrests. Her prints aren’t even in the database. A model citizen.’
Hunter screwed up his face in disappointment. That meant he couldn’t use a little police blackmail to persuade her to cooperate.
Both detectives were impressed by number 535. A glassy, twelve-floor apartment block that stood imposingly on Ocean Boulevard. Every apartment had its own balcony, every balcony at least twenty feet by fifteen. At the entrance lobby they were greeted by marble floors, leather sofas and a chandelier that belonged more in Buckingham Palace than in Santa Monica.
Rachel’s apartment was number 44C, but as they approached the building’s concierge, Garcia gently touched Hunter’s arm making a quick head movement towards the lift. An impressive-looking African American woman had just walked out of it. Her straight black hair fell matter-of-factly over her shoulders. She was wearing skintight shorts cut from a pair of ice-blue jeans, with a light yellow T-shirt tucked in at her narrow waist. Her figure was worthy of a Playboy centerfold. A pair of Gucci sunglasses hid her eyes from the bright daylight. Hunter immediately recognized her as one of the girls sitting at D-King’s table on Friday night.
They waited as she obliviously walked past them and onto the street. It took them just a few strides to catch up with her.
‘Miss Blate?’ Hunter called now coming up to her side.
She stopped and turned to face both detectives. ‘Hello, do I know you?’ she said cheerfully.
Hunter quickly displayed his badge – Garcia did the same. ‘Can we have a few minutes of your time?’
‘Am I in some kind of trouble?’ she asked unconcerned.
‘Not at all. We actually wanna talk to you about one of your friends.’
‘And which one would that be?’
‘Jenny Farnborough.’
She threw them a quick look of assessment, her eyes resting on each detective for no more than a couple of seconds. ‘Don’t know who you’re talking about, sorry,’ she said facetiously.
‘Yes, you do.’ Hunter was in no mood to play games. ‘She worked for D-King, just like you.’ His stare was cold and firm.
‘D-King?’ She frowned and very slightly shook her head as if she had no idea who they were referring to.
‘Look, we’ve all had a long week and just like you, we’d rather be enjoying the sun than doing this. So the quicker we disperse with the bullshit the faster we can get back to doing whatever it is that we do. We were at the Vanguard Club on Friday night, you were sitting with him, so don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you, and as I’ve said, you’re in no trouble, we just need your help.’
Now she remembered where she’d seen them before. She also remembered finding the blue-eyed, muscular detective quite attractive. She removed her sunglasses and placed them on her head using it to hold her fringe back. She realized there was no point in trying to deny she knew D-King or Jenny. If they wanted to arrest her, they would’ve done so already.
‘OK, but I haven’t seen Jenny since she decided to quit. I’m not sure how much help I can be.’
‘Quit?’ Garcia’s baffled look giving away his surprise.
‘Yes, I think she decided to go back home.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘That’s what we were told.’
‘By D-King?’
Rachel took a deep breath and held it for a second or two. ‘Yes.’
Hunter knew why D-King had lied to Rachel and the other girls. They would’ve panicked if they found out Jenny had been kidnapped, tortured and killed. He was supposed to be their protector, their guardian as well as their boss. Hunter debated how much he was willing to reveal. If he told her what had really happened, he’d be the one starting the panic in D-King’s camp. He decided not to stir anything up – for now.
‘Have you ever seen this man?’ Hunter showed her a picture of George Slater.
Rachel analyzed it for a few seconds. ‘Umm . . . I’m not sure.’
‘Look again.’ Hunter was sure she had recognized him but on instinct she’d lied.
‘Maybe . . . in