Page 104 of King
“And yourladywill be able to verify this?” Marsden sneered, and I sighed. Able to verify it? Yes. Willing to? Well, I supposed that depended on how much Ella would hate me when the cops knocked on her door.
He handed me a notepad and pen and instructed me to write down her name and contact information.
“She left for Chicago Friday afternoon, but is due back sometime this evening,” I told him. He ignored me, then opened the door, handing the paper off to a uniformed officer standing there. They had a hushed conversation before Detective Dipshit shut the door and took his seat again.
They continued peppering me with questions starting with what my relationship was with Star, and what she did for the club. I answered them calmly and more or less truthfully.
“Star was a friend. She was associated with our club for three or four years. She did some cooking and cleaned the clubhouse in exchange for room and board, plus a small salary. She also picked up shifts at one of our businesses from time to time.”
“Oh come now, Mr. Morgan, let’s be honest here,” Marsden goaded. “She did a lot more than that for your club. She was a prostitute, paid by the club to have sex with all the bikers.”
Before I could say a word, Tom held up his hand. “Detective, your insinuation that Mr. Morgan or his club is running some kind of prostitution ring is baseless and is offensive to both my client and to your victim. He answered your question. Now move on.”
Lt. Brown shot Brown a look and took over the line of questioning. “So why did she leave her job there and move out of the clubhouse?”
“We were concerned that Star was using drugs, which is a violation of our club rules. She was asked to move out.”
Marsden snorted, and asked if I expected him to believe that we don’t use drugs.
“You’re welcome to test me right now, detective. I used to smoke a little pot but gave that up when my twins were born twenty-seven years ago. We’re a group of men who run successful, legitimate, law-abiding businesses, and we wouldn’t be able to do that if we were using drugs, so yes, they are against our rules.”
“Yet you allowed Ms. Monroe to work at the strip club, owned by your group?”
I nodded at Lt. Brown and shrugged. “As I said, Star had been a friend for several years. We didn’t want her out on the streets, but we didn’t want her bringing any of that shit into what is essentially our home either. So, we made her move out, but allowed her to continue working at Fallen Angels, until she failed to report for her shift Thursday evening. She didn’t call either. That warranted termination under our rules as well.”
“As it does for many employers,” Tom interjected.
Marsden jumped in again, hesitating for a moment as he made a production over flipping through his notes, then looked at me as if he were confused. He wasn’t a bad actor, but he tried a little too hard. “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to find the information I’m looking for. Have you ever been to Ms. Monroe’s apartment…the one she moved into after she left your clubhouse?”
“I went to her place Thursday evening.”
“How did you know where she lived?”
“I got the address from the assistant manager at Fallen Angels. It was in her employment records.”
“Why did you go to her apartment?”
“I was concerned because she hadn’t shown up for her shift and we couldn’t reach her by phone. I wanted to check on her.”
“And did you? Check on her, I mean?” he clarified casually, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“I tried to, but she wasn’t home.”
Marsden nodded and paused. “So, when you went into her apartment, you didn’t see her?”
“My client never said he wentintothe apartment, so let’s stop baiting him, shall we?”
At that point, I wondered if a neighbor had seen me entering or leaving, or maybe I had left some trace evidence behind. If that were the case, I needed to come clean. Mostly.
“It’s OK, Tom. Let me save you some time, detective. I went up to her apartment and knocked on the door. It opened slightly, like it hadn’t been latched properly. I called out for her, but she didn’t answer. I became concerned, given her history, that Star was there and had possibly overdosed, so I pushed the door open the rest of the way and went inside. I didn’t see her, so I left.”
“How long were you in the apartment?”
“Not long, a few minutes maybe. It’s a small studio apartment, so I checked the bathroom and kitchen, then I left.”
“Did you notice anything unusual?”
“The place needed a good cleaning, and it was hot as hell because the air-conditioner wasn’t running, but otherwise, no.”
