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Her face hardened. “I think you should go.” She grabbed her phone.
I had a feeling she’d respond like that and came prepared. I took out a wad of notes and placed them on the bar.
“There’s ten thousand pounds. Count it if you like. It’s yours. I just want to know what happened that night and whether that’s the same girl.” I pointed from the face-on shot of Theadora to the pornographic image.
She glanced at the photo, then me, then the cash. It took her a moment. “Why do you need to know? How do I know you won’t involve the cops?”
“I haven’t so far. I was the one that saved her, while she was drugged to the eyeballs and trying to escape being raped by Reynard Crisp.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
“All the girls sign consent forms.”
“Oh, really? And what about drugging the non-consenting ones? That sounds like a crime to me.”
She remained silent.
“I just need to know about these photos.”
“I’m going to need more than that.” Her head cocked towards the cash.
I pulled out another wad of notes and placed it on the bar.
“Who took the photo of Theadora in the mirror?”
“That was me.” She took the cash, flicked through both piles, rose, and grabbed her bag and tucked them away.
“So you met her on the night?”
She nodded. “She was waitressing for us in costume. It’s my job to help the new girls get fitted, and that’s a photo of her in the dressing room. We normally take photos of all our girls for the board.”
“For the board? You have this image on public display?”
Her mouth turned up at one end, making her appear sly. “I haven’t checked, but maybe.”
I could see she wanted more cash. I removed another wad of cash from my pocket. “Show me. Remove it and then I want the file on your phone and computer. And it’s worth twenty thousand pounds.”
Her eyebrows rose. “This girl must mean a lot to you.”
“Show me.”
I was taken to the board featuring images of scantily clad waitresses.
Unsurprisingly, Theadora’s image stood out. She was by far the most beautiful creature there, with her voluptuous figure provocatively on display in that tiny corset.
She removed the photo and handed it to me. After she deleted the images from her computer and phone, I handed her the cash.
“Where are the others?” I asked.
“They don’t exist. I don’t have those ones.”
“Are they of her?” I asked.
I removed another wad of notes and slapped it down on the bar. “Now speak.”
She ran her tongue over her pumped lips. “They’re not of her.”
“How?”
