Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Ezekiel
The sound booth is empty. Michael, the sound technician is supposed to be here preparing everything for tonight. He left the meeting room after his phone conversation and disappeared somewhere down the hallway. I called Malachi and we went to look for him.
“Do you think he fled?” Malachi asks. “Maybe he realized you overheard his conversation.”
“He didn’t,” I’m convinced that he has no idea Riley and I were even there.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Malachi’s eyes sweep over the half-finished cup of coffee sitting beside the mixing console. “People don’t abandon their post so close to the opening.”
“Let’s check the dressing rooms,” I nod towards the hallway.
However, neither of us gets the chance to move and the door swings open behind us. I see Michael standing at the door entrance, frozen when he sees us standing there. A plastic bag with takeout containers slips from his hand, spilling across the floor.
His pale face is all the confirmation I need to know that I didn’t mishear anything and he is indeed hiding something.
I finally have a solid lead. For a heartbeat, nobody speaks, then Michael turns around but he doesn’t take more than two steps before Malachi catches the back of his jacket and slams him into the wall hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs.
“I didn’t do anything!” Michael doesn’t even pretend to hide his panic.
“You’ve made your first mistake,” Malachi says in a calm tone, tightening his grip. “We didn’t ask you a single question yet.”
“And you’re already defending yourself,” I turn to Malachi before I add. “Let’s take him to the room.”
“No, no, no,” Michael begs. “Please, don’t!”
“If I were you, I’d shut up,” Malachi drags him along, but the technician doesn’t stop struggling until I unlock the heavy door at the end of the private corridor.
Very few people have access to this place and there is always a security guard making sure no one casually walks in on me interrogating a suspect.
Well, aside from the time Riley walked in on me doing exactly that.
He got demoted to bathroom duty that night.
It was either that or putting a bullet between his eyes and I gave him a free pass because it was the first time.
Malachi forces Michael into the chair while I lock the restraints around his wrists with practiced movements.
The man’s breathing becomes shallow as his eyes scan the room, finally understanding that he made a huge mistake.
“I swear to God, I don’t know anything,” his voice is trembling as he speaks. “I don’t know what this is about.”
“You don’t know what this is about… yet.” I smile, and his shoulders sag with relief.
His eyes widen in terror as I pull another chair across the room and sit down opposite of him, resting my forearms on my knees. Malachi stands behind me, his posture tall and intimidating. There is no emotion on his face.
“I’ll only ask once, who’s been making my dancers disappear?”
“I…” He squirms, trying to set his hands free but failing miserably as the restraints cut deep into his skin. “I don’t know, I swear!”
“I see,” I nod once, standing up. “If that’s how this is going to be, I hope you went to the bathroom before this. I hate it when someone makes a mess in my club.”
The first scream echoes off the concrete less than a minute later and all time loses meaning after that.
Malachi keeps track of the answers, while I keep track of the lies, and every time the technician contradicts himself, my brother calmly points it out.
Almost politely, which I’ve come to notice people tend to fear even more than physical torture.
“Five minutes ago you said you’d never spoken to him,” I wipe my hands on the white cloth, cleaning the scumbag’s blood from my fingers. “But now you’re saying he only called you, and you never spoke in person.”
“Yes…” Michal’s voice is getting weaker with each word.
“Which one should we believe?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I don’t know who he is,” He continues. “I only know he works here, too. But he used an app to disguise his voice and only contacted me on the phone.”
“Is that how things happened?”
“Yes,” he nods, his composure crumbling to pieces. “He paid me to approach the girls and offer them a better job with a higher pay. I…” Michael pauses, struggling to speak with his broken jaw. “I told them there was a better club and gave them an address where they could meet their new boss.”
“Who’s that new boss?”
“I don’t know,” Michael cries. “I’ve never met anyone in person, nor heard the names.”
“How did you receive your payment?” I’m aware of how slim the chances of a professional leaving digital traces of a payment of this kind, but it’s still worth asking.
“Someone left it in a plastic bag in the trash outside.”
“And the girls? Do you know what happens to them once they disappear?”
“No,” He shakes his head, the blood dripping down his face and pooling on his beige shirt. “I was just the messenger; I don’t know anything else.”
Malachi studies him for a long moment before turning to look at me and quietly saying “I think he really told us everything he knows.”
“I think so, too,” I nod, raising back to my feet.
The technician looks up at me, with a sudden trace of hope on his face. “I told you everything.”
I take a slow step forward without saying another word. His pleading starts before I even reach him, but people who make the mistake to betray me don’t deserve second chances. And people who sell women under my own roof certainly don’t deserve to live.
Bang!