The Red Light Girls (Unsolved Mysteries Book 2) by Kim Knight (most romantic novels TXT) 📗

around the small space, glancing at faces and feet. Where are you, ladies?

She tried to place the voices she heard to the purple and silver shoes, but the women she had seen when she first entered were long gone.

16

Out of the Woodwork

Madeline Sloane

An hour later, Madeline was behind her laptop again.

The evening had passed quickly. It was already eleven at night. She left the Red Light District satisfied that she had information to follow up on.

For one, what the hell are sugar daddies all about? Did Ana go on a date with someone from there? If so, what happened to her?

Madeline poured a glass of rosé wine and typed the name into Google. A list of various links came up, one pulled her in to take a closer look. ‘Handsome, rich men seek women to marry’ was the tagline, she clicked on it.

Every woman deserves to be treated like a princess. Men from all over Amsterdam, who are financially stable, are looking for their princess.

Scrolling through the website, Madeline viewed the eligible bachelors listed—all claimed to be wealthy within their own right. Each of them sought out the right woman to spend their life with. The site looked convincing and authentic.

Hmm. Easy to see why any woman would sign herself up to find a date, Madeline thought as she looked over the pages.

The conversation she had with the barmaid, earlier that evening, came to mind along with the information she overheard in the bathroom. All three women had confirmed hearing about the dating site. And it was rumoured, Ana might have made contact with a man.

I bet the police never followed up on this, she pondered the possibility. Let alone set foot in any of the bars to speak to the women who had worked with Ana. I should contact Detective Janssen later this week and ask.

She turned her focus back to researching the women, but little information came up. Other than the police reports and newspaper articles, they all skimmed over the woman’s unfortunate fate.

Her phone buzzed with a text message. Madeline grabbed it, then unlocked the device.

—Hey, hope you had a good day.

—I’ve made reservations at a Chinese restaurant.

—Friday at 8:00.

—Here’s the address, 1789 Dam Square.

—I can pick you up if you’d like.

Madeline’s mood lifted at the dinner date invitation. Chris seemed sweet, someone she’d like to get to know better. She tapped out a response.

—Cool sounds great!

—I’ll meet you there.

A reply came back straight away, so she read it.

—Can’t wait!

—See you then.

Madeline smiled at the message, then turned her attention back to her computer screen.

The faces of the missing women, apart from Suzy, stared back at her.

She typed in ‘Suzy Chan’s Murder’ into Google. The first link that appeared was a news report, so she read through to the end.

Madeline’s gaze roamed over the woman’s picture.

Suzy was petite, with pretty oriental features. Her hair was a naturally dark, chestnut brown, and the ends were dyed a pale blonde. She appeared to be an attractive and trendy girl with her dress sense and style.

The report didn’t offer her any new information on the girl’s murder, it only confirm where she was found dead, and that they needed witnesses.

She shook her head, drained her wine, then pulled up a fresh Word document.

I got work to do, another appeal, based on the information she had was indeed needed.

17

Dead End

Detective Janssen

Bright and early the next morning, Janssen entered her office. The silence of a new day greeted her. It was a time she relished—a time she liked facing alone.

“Morning.” Gibson sipped his coffee.

“Dammit.” She flinched, then closed the door behind her.

“It’s only me.” He sat on her sofa with one leg crossed over the other, and the morning’s paper on his lap.

“Jesus.” A familiar aroma hit her nose. “Don’t do that shit.”

“Well, good morning to you too, partner.” Gibson rose, then held up his mug. “Coffee?” Then he crossed the room, approaching the kettle.

“Tea, please.”

Janssen unwrapped her scarf from around her neck, then unbuttoned her winter coat. She pulled off her black fedora hat and placed it on her desk with her handbag, then ran a brush through her short, blonde hair.

“Right. That witch’s brew. Which one can I get for you this morning?”

Janssen chuckled and glanced over her shoulder at her partner. “Mint, please.”

“One or two frog legs?” Gibson teased.

Janssen shook her head and giggled some more. “One sweetener, please,” she called over her shoulder.

“So, what’s up with the witness interview you had yesterday? How did it go? Gibson asked as he filled Janssen’s mug with hot water.

“Nothing else came to light.” Janssen sighed. She sat down behind her desk and powered up her computer. “What about you?”

“Searched Suzy’s apartment and talked to her roommate.”

“Find anything?”

“An address book and her laptop.” He grabbed a mint teabag, opened it, and then plopped it inside the mug.

“Anything of use?”

“Yeah.” He ripped the top off a sweetener package, then added it to the tea. “But you go first. What’d you find out?”

“Well, I went over the old case files. And I focused on the witness statement for Ana De Jog’s case.”

“Oh, yeah?” Grabbing the kettle, he topped up his cup, added more coffee crystals, then stirred.

“I told Denz to follow up with Ana’s witness. The contact only confirmed what we already knew.”

“Which is?” He grabbed his coffee and her tea.

“She saw a woman fitting Ana’s description talking to a man with dark hair outside the Amsterdam Centraal station on the evening she went missing.”

“That’s all?” Gibson set the mug down on the side of Janssen’s desk, then took a seat in the chair opposite.

“That’s all. But she said she couldn’t be sure it was her. The jacket she had on seemed familiar from the appeal she had seen on the news. That’s what made her come forward.”

“And the CCTV footage around the station?” Gibson whirled his mug around.

“I got a copy of it. The transport Polite uploaded it to the secure cloud, then emailed me a link.