Chapter 4: The Velvet Lounge
"So, our victim is 19 year old Amanda Crichton. She worked at a strip club downtown called 'The Velvet Lounge', her stage name was 'Jet'." Burrows informed Melissa the next day at the precinct, pushing a file towards her.
Melissa raised an eyebrow, "A strip club, huh? That's interesting. Did you know her Burrows?"
"Picked her up for shop lifting six months ago. Let her go with a warning. Maybe that was a mistake."
"It's not your fault Burrows." Melissa told him, disinterested in listening to his chagrin.
Burrows nodded, "Yeah, and get this - the owner of the club is some Greek guy named Georgios. Word on the street is he's got connections, you know, to certain...organizations."
Melissa leaned back in her chair, thinking. "Alright, let's pay this Georgios a visit. Maybe he knows something about our girl," Melissa suggested, standing up and grabbing her coat.
The outside of The Velvet Lounge was unassuming, a nondescript door tucked between a pawn shop and a dive bar.
"Let's scope it out first," Melissa suggested, lighting a cigarette.
"Didn't know you smoked Erikson." Said Burrows.
"New habit." Melissa confirmed.
They stood across the street, watching the door. Every so often, a man would emerge, looking disheveled and satisfied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
"This place is a goldmine," Burrows commented, rubbing his hands together greedily.
Melissa shot him a look. "We're here to investigate a murder, Burrows. Not to look for an investment opportunity."
Thirty minutes passed in silence. Burrows' phone rang, breaking the tension. He answered, listened intently, then hung up. "That was the lab. They found some male DNA on the vic," Burrows said, pocketing his phone. "We should head over there."
"You go," Melissa said, dropping her cigarette butt and crushing it under her heel. "I'll follow in a minute. I want to watch this place a little longer."
Burrows shrugged, "Suit yourself. Don't be too long, Erikson. We've got a killer to catch."
He started up the street, leaving Melissa alone with her thoughts.
Why do all these men come here?
Did one of them kill Jet?
Do the women in there have big tits?
Her gaze lingered on the door of The Velvet Lounge. She knew she shouldn't, but curiosity gnawed at her. She crossed the street and pushed open the door.
The air was thick with smoke and the scent of cheap perfume but the decor was surprisingly tasteful. Dark velvet curtains draped the walls, casting the room in a soft, red glow. A long bar stretched along one side, a mirrored wall behind it, reflecting the array of premium bottles lined up neatly. A few men sat hunched over drinks, their eyes glued to the stage where a woman writhed sensuously, her body glistening with sweat under the spotlight.
She was indeed well-endowed, her breasts spilling out of a tiny, sequined bra. Melissa felt a stab of envy, followed by a surge of anger at herself. She wasn't here to jealously ogle strippers, she reminded herself sternly.
She made her way to the bar and, taking a seat on a plush stool, made eye contact with the bartender, a towering, 6'5", bald man with a thick but tidy beard and a warm smile.
"Hello," he said with a deep voice, wiping the counter with a cloth. "Are you here for a job?" His eyes roamed over Melissa's body before coming to rest on her face as she flushed slightly at the muscular bartender's bold appraisal.
"No, I'm here to see Georgios." Melissa replied.
"I see," the bartender said, his smile widening. "Well, Georgios doesn't usually see people without an appointment, but I can see what I can do. Who shall I say is asking?"
"Detective Melissa Erikson," she said, flashing her badge.
The bartender raised an eyebrow, "A cop, huh? Alright, Detective Melissa Erikson, I'll see what I can do."
The bartender disappeared through a set of heavy velvet curtains, leaving Melissa alone at the bar. She took a moment to scan the room again, her eyes lingering on the stage where another dancer had taken the previous one's place. This one was different, though. She was petite, her body lean and toned, her breasts small but perky, like her own. Melissa felt a strange sense of relief, as if seeing someone who looked more like her made the whole scene feel less intimidating.
Another man emerged from behind the curtain, shorter than the bartender and less handsome. He scanned the room before his gaze landed on Melissa.
"Detective Erikson, Georgios will see you," he said.