The Red Light Girls (Unsolved Mysteries Book 2), Kim Knight [old books to read TXT] 📗

The barmaid turned toward the fridge and bent over.

Janssen’s gaze didn’t move from her behind.

The barmaid reached for the bottle of beer, her hips swaying.

“Eyes on the prize, Janssen,” Gibson’s voice announced in her ear. “Leave that ass alone. He’s just walked in.”

“Shut up, I’m focused.”

She stemmed a smile, then slowly turned around to lock eyes with Gibson across the room.

He was focused on Ali, the suspect by the entrance.

Ali nodded to a few of the patrons, then took a seat in a booth over by the men’s toilets. It wasn’t long before Janssen saw a few drinkers huddle around his table. They made small talk, from what she assumed, probably over a deal. After a bit, Ali and his men rose from the table and headed to the men’s room.

“I’m moving in,” Gibson said. “I wanna see if he’ll supply me with anything.”

“Right behind you,” Janssen confirmed.

Once Gibson made his way to the men’s room, Janssen casually spun around on her bar stool. She looked around through the crowd for her men. The undercover officers had spread themselves strategically around the room. She glanced behind her, Gibson moved over toward Ali and tapped him on the shoulder.

Gibson glance over his shoulder and look around the room, he nodded to an officer discreetly, to signal him to follow his lead.

Janssen turned around to face the bar and waited for the word in her ear that it was time to make an arrest. She listened in to the men’s conversation. She overheard Gibson cutting a deal with Ali over some cocaine and pills.

As Ali fell for the bait and started to discuss prices, she smiled to herself, then turned around to eye-fuck the brunette with the amazing tits as she brought her drink over.

“Here you go, that’s two euros fifty, please.” The barmaid placed a bottle of beer on the mat in front of her.

Janssen pulled out her wallet and handed her a note.

“Thank you, beautiful.” She kicked herself for flirting. “Keep the change.” Unable to help herself, she winked at her.

The barmaid took the note and threw back her head with a laughter, then moved on to serve the next customer.

While she listened to the deal taking place in the men’s room, Janssen watched the woman at work. Every time the barmaid bent down and reached into the fridge to retrieve a beer, Janssen chewed on the inside of her lip.

“So how much?” Gibson’s voice boomed into her ear, causing her to stop assaulting the barmaid’s curves with her glare. She straightened her back and listened in closely to Gibson.

“For the pills and the coke?” She heard him say.

“Call it sixty euros, and we’re cool,” Ali said.

“Show me the goods, man. What’s up? You can trust me,” Gibson said.

“Hold up. Here’s a sample.” Janssen imagined Ali pulling out a bag of cocaine and pills. “The purest powder you’ll find this side of the city,” Ali boasted into her ear.

“Sixty euros? Is that all,” Gibson said.

Janssen’s expression became serious as she listened.

“That’s a small price to pay for a prison sentence,” said Gibson, “or deportation huh, Ali.”

“Ahhh, fuck. You fuckin’ feds, man.”

Janssen looked around the bar, took a headcount of the barmen, then nodded to her team. They all made their way over to the men’s toilet. Janssen threw open the door in time to see Gibson pin Ali up against the grimy wall of the men’s bathroom, with one hand behind his back.

“You’re under arrest,” Gibson’s deep voice bounced off the ceramic tiles and around the room.

Two men left the cubicles and tried to exit.

Janssen blocked their way. “Not so fast.” She held up her Politie badge.

“Over here, please.”

She pointed to her left, and one of the plain-clothed officers took them to one side.

“Fuck you, man. I need to make money,” Ali whined.

Janssen turned around only to see that Gibson had the suspect under his firm grip.

“Not like this you don’t,” Janssen said. “People are dead because of you, ya piece-a shit.” She stepped over the threshold of the bathroom.

Ali spat at her in response. “Bitch,” he yelled.

“Aye, that’s no way to speak to a lady,” Gibson shouted protectively and gripped him by the neck.

“Get off me, pig,” Ali protested.

Janssen dodged his phlegm and rolled her eyes. “Thanks, I’ve been called worse,” she said, then proceeded to read him his rights as Gibson cuffed him.

“What’s going on?” a male voice called into the bathroom.

Janssen glanced over her shoulder and locked eyes with one of the barmen.

“We’ve had to make an arrest. Sorry for the disruption.” A short pause passed. “Someone handle this please.” She nodded at one of her team to help the barman.

One of the officers move the barman to the side, then pulled out his notepad.

She moved her focus back to the arrest at hand.

Gibson now had Ali cuffed and ready to go. He led him out of the men’s bathroom, through the club, then to the car that waited for him outside.

She moved deeper into the bathroom. A pungent aroma of urine assaulted her nostrils and she held her nose. Stepping over the piss on the floor, she cleared each cubical, checking for lingering partygoers, then left the room.

The main bar area was full of uniformed police. Patrons sat around with stunned looks on their faces. The men that had been in negotiations with Ali were now in cuffs too.

Janssen felt a wave of satisfaction. She had her man.

Her phone rang, and she fished it out from her inside pocket, then headed outside the bar, so she could hear.

“Detective Janssen,” she said into the device, then pulled off the wig and shoved it into her coat pocket.

“Detective, we need you over by Amsterdamse Bos now,” Sergeant Baas’ voice roared into her ear.

“What’s up?”

“It’s a girl. We’ve got another one.” His voice took on a somber tone. “She’s been found dead in the woodland area.”

Janssen took a deep sigh and moved her eyes over the crime scene in front of her. The cuffed men were being led out