Alfonse’s chilli is just perfect, hot enough to tingle the lips, yet not so hot as to scald the throat. I spoon away until the bowl is empty, my eyes never leaving the spreadsheets he has drawn up.
Eight of the nine live several hundreds of miles away, while the ninth has a number of homes around the world. Each of the men is wealthy in a way I can only dream of.
Thinking about it, I should have figured that out from the prices listed on the website. Kira and the other girls charge ten big ones per visit. And that is for basic companionship. Vacation company is fifteen grand a day plus expenses.
The guys who hire these hookers aren’t your average Joes working behind a desk for someone else. They are guys who own companies, run multinational businesses or live off family money.
In fact, they are guys like her father and brother.
Is that what Kira’s hooking was about? Some distorted way to seek revenge against her father? The secret kept so clients could laugh at him behind his back?
That line of thought doesn’t ring true with my memories of her though. No matter how much I scour my brain, I can’t recall Kira criticising her father or other family members in any way.
Eight of the ten had seen Kira at her home in Casperton. One of the others had booked her for vacations of varying lengths and the final one had requested she join him in LA to entertain guests at his parties. Alfonse’s digital excavations had followed the clients back through time. All bar one had at some point visited her in Casperton.
That meant we had nine suspects who knew where Kira lived.
We know who nine of these men are but the tenth is a mystery. He’s the one with the party bookings. Lifting the spreadsheet bearing his alias, I look at the message history Alfonse has attached and see the tenth man booked Kira on three separate occasions.
Her brief for the parties was simple. She was to be one of a number of girls hired to accompany and entertain her client’s friends.
This gets my brain firing a bit faster and my pulse throbbing with a greater intensity as adrenaline surges through my body. Everything about this booking screams organised crime.
It is one of the oldest tricks in the book: a mob boss would invite a few people to their home for a party. Stunning hookers would be there and when the married businessmen and politicians had been fed enough alcohol, they’d bed one of the hookers. Usually in a room with a two-way mirror and lots of video cameras.
A few days later the hapless victim is presented with a video or pictures of their indiscretion and given a choice. Submit to their blackmailer or face the wrath of their spouse.
If Kira had gotten herself mixed up in anything like that, there could be a whole army of people bearing grudges against her.
The sound of a toilet flushing is followed by light footsteps as Alfonse returns.
‘What do you make of it then?’
I scratch my head. ‘The whole hooking thing has made it impossible. We’d have to fly halfway around the west coast just to speak to everyone and the guy you haven’t yet identified looks real suspect to me.’
He asks what I mean, so I tell him my suspicions.
‘If the guy is involved in organised crime we should steer clear.’
‘Agreed. But how come you haven’t been able to identify him? There’s an address on the first message telling Kira where the party is being held.’
‘The house is owned by what looks to be a dummy corporation operating from a PO box. I can find out who’s behind it given time, but I wanted to take a look at the others first so I had something for you when you got back.’
His words further raise my antenna, but I’m not sure we should be going up against people in organised crime.
Alfonse rubs the back of his neck. ‘If they are involved in organised crime, why do you think they didn’t use some of their own girls?’
The question shows Alfonse’s naivety. ‘Either they’re not involved in prostitution or they wanted stunning girls to act as their honey traps instead of street walkers.’
‘I figure.’
‘You’ve read the messages between Kira and her clients, right? It doesn’t seem like there’s anything she wouldn’t do upon request. Imagine the leverage a few photos of some of that stuff would give you.’
While reading the messages Kira had exchanged with her clients, I had been surprised at her willingness to play whatever part was requested of her. Nothing was too kinky or off limits. By turn she’d been submissive, dominant or compliant to her clients’ most base and degrading whims.
‘So, what’s our next move, Jake? Do we fly around half the country pestering wealthy men about their sexual antics with a dead hooker or do we try another angle?’
I think for a moment. ‘You find out who the tenth man is. I’ll deal with the other nine.’
Seeing Alfonse’s eyes narrow as a thought comes to him, I raise an eyebrow.
‘Do you think it could be her father or brother? I mean, maybe they found out about her hooking and decided the only way to stop her was to kill her.’
‘Why hire us then?’
‘Cover. Or maybe her father doesn’t know and it was her brother.’
‘I don’t buy it, Alfonse. It’s too much of a stretch to be her father. If it was her brother, Farrage and his goon squad will be looking at them as a matter of course.’
‘True.’
‘Besides, what about the forensic reports from where she was found? Didn’t Emily say the tests would be done by now?’
He looks at his watch and curses. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting her in an hour for dinner. I’ve to pick her up at the Coroner’s Office and she’ll let me see the reports before we eat.’
‘Off you go then. Enjoy your date.’ The look he shoots me is pure venom. ‘I’ll stay here and keep digging.’
Setting myself before his laptop, I go to the home page of Fantasy Courtesans for another look around the site. As I search through the various pages, I put in a call to my mother.
I have to ignore the mixed messages my brain is getting from my eyes and ears until we’ve gone through the usual small talk. After five minutes of chatter I’ve got the number of her psychologist so I bid her goodbye and hang up.
My mother has embraced American culture and all of its foibles and nuances with a fervent zeal since we moved here. Her accent is now a mish-mash of Glasgow and Utah, and shows favouritism to one or the other depending on her frame of mind. Seeing a psychologist is all part of the lifestyle for her.
I don’t believe she’ll ever get over the way my father just upped and left one morning, but if seeing Dr Edwards helps her come to terms with his abandonment, I’m all for it.
Calling the psychologist’s office, I manage to catch the receptionist before she leaves for the day. My luck is in. Dr Edwards has a window tomorrow morning.
Laying down my phone I refocus all my brain power on the Fantasy Courtesans website. Earlier, I’d skimmed across the site until I’d found Kira. Now I’m taking a proper look.
Everything I see suggests Young has walked a fine line. The site offers companionship and a girlfriend experience from all its ‘models’. The text indicates the girls would help ‘distinguished gentlemen live out their fantasies’, in a way which promises much without admitting anything illegal.
There are six other girls working for Fantasy Courtesans but their whereabouts are vague at best. Kira’s location is listed simply as Utah.
I’m surprised Young hasn’t taken down the page featuring Kira. In his position it would be the first thing I’d do. Picking up my cell, I call him, intending to apply some pressure.
‘What do you want, Boulder?’
‘I want to know if your girls have got back to you yet. Also I want to know if you’ve had any problems with any of your customers, particularly the ones who’ve seen Kira.’
‘Give me a chance. I’ve only just gotten back from the emergency room. My man is on crutches, thanks to you.’