Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
“It’s not in any of his accounts?” I frown.
“No, he withdrew it in cash on the day that he died.”
Okay, my interest is officially piqued. “What do you know about this phone number?” I ask.
“Only that it was disconnected on the day of his death.”
“Hmm.”
“That’s where I need you. I know you can find out who that number belongs to.”
I nod and take the piece of paper from her. “We will look into it and be in touch. I will need access to bank statements so that we can do a full investigation.”
“Brock?” she says.
“Yes.”
“My husband was dying of brain cancer and was fighting to survive. I know he didn’t kill himself,” she tells me with sadness in her eyes.
What the hell? I did not know that…Interesting.
We shake her hand, and she leads us out through the house. I turn to her before we leave.
“Thank you.” She smiles.
“We can’t make any promises.”
“I don’t care if he was having an affair. But I want his death ruled as murder, not suicide. It’s killing my children to think that their father ended his own life.”
I nod and shake her hand. “I fully understand. We’ll be in touch.”
Once outside and away from Mrs. Chancellor, we climb inside and start the car. “Where to now?” Jes asks.
“We need to brief with the boys.”
“Okay, so this is where we are at.” The boys are all sitting in a group around me, and Cindy is taking the meeting minutes. I point to the black board in front of me as I start to go through the point form cases we are working on. We do this every couple of weeks as a group of twelve.
“Through the week, we were contacted by one of the murdered girl’s fathers. He has put out a bounty.”
They frown in concentration as they listen to me.
“A million dollars to any person or persons who finds the killer.”
“What case is this?” Mason asks.
I blow out a breath because this case is confusing and hard to explain. “This particular story goes back a long way, and one of our very own was, in fact, a suspect for one of the first murders.” I gesture to Ben who nods in acknowledgment.
The boys all frown harder, their interest piqued.
“Six years ago, an extremely wealthy friend of ours had sex with a high-end prostitute. Unbeknown to him, she filmed him on three occasions having sex with her. She then went on and threatened to go to the paparazzi with the footage if he didn’t pay her millions of dollars.”
The boys all listen intently.
“He didn’t pay her. Instead, he had his security team try and retrieve the footage tapes. But before they could, the prostitute was found dead at the docklands. She had been hog tied and shot in the back of the head. Her body was severely beaten before they finished her off.”
“Did this wealthy friend of yours kill her?” Mason asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “He had nothing to do with it, although I will admit that it had run through his security team’s mind.”
The boys all glance towards Ben as they try to connect the dots.
“What was her name?” Cindy asks as she takes the notes.
“We will call her TC,” I reply. “TC.” I put a photograph of her up on the noticeboard and pin it in place. “Gorgeous, young, and capable of earning five-thousand dollars for just four hours work.”
One of the boys lets out a low whistle.
“TC was bribing many men. At the time, we thought she was working alone.” I begin to take photographs of the six other women and pin them up beside TC’s. “However, since then, a further six high-end call girls have met the same unfortunate fate as our dear TC.”
“You think it’s a serial killer?” someone asks.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t. I think the girls were all working for the same person.”
“What do you mean?” Jes asks.
“I believe they were working for someone who was… maybe still is blackmailing girls to get the footage of them with high profile men and women so that they can then blackmail the clients into paying for their silence.”
“You think he kills the girls once they’ve done their job?” Big John asks.
I shake my head again. “No, I think he kills the girls to keep them in line. Think about it. What high-end prostitute wants to be filmed doing what they do?”
The boys all nod as they process the information. “Girls of this calibre,” I point to their images on the board, “do not want to be filmed under any circumstance.”
“I think he’s either killing women who refuse to do what he demands, or perhaps he’s letting the other girls know what’s going to happen if they don’t fall into line.”
The boys fall into hushed conversations on possible theories for a moment.