‘All right, Scott?’ Jessica said, noticing the man’s name tag. At first he seemed taken aback, partly by having his name mentioned but also, Jessica assumed, because they didn’t get too many female visitors.

He seemed almost annoyed when he realised how she had found out his name. ‘Are you members?’ he asked tersely, picking up a tissue from the counter and throwing it into a bin in the corner.

‘We’re here to see Nicholas,’ Jessica said. ‘You might want to work on your welcoming strategy, by the way. Sucking your fingers and keeping snotty tissues on the counter surely can’t be good for business.’

Scott scowled as he picked up a phone from the desk and spoke too quietly for them to hear. ‘You can wait there,’ he said, putting the receiver down and pointing towards a sofa on the opposite side of the cramped entranceway.

The room could have only fitted two dozen people in if they were packed tightly. There was the door they had come through, then a second one which presumably led to the main part of the club. Next to that was a closed hatch with ‘Cloak Room’ written over the top. The decor was almost entirely red, with matching carpets and wallpaper and a beech-coloured wooden border running around the walls. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, with fake candles on each of the prongs, and Jessica could almost taste the air-freshener which had seemingly been emptied into the room at some point in the past few hours.

‘Familiar setting this, Dave?’ Jessica whispered.

‘I told you, I’ve not been here before.’

‘Maybe not to this one . . .’

Before she could wind her friend up any further, a brute of a man stomped through the door opposite the one they had entered by. His head was shaven and his dark shirt was bulging from the muscles underneath. Jessica stood but still felt half the man’s size as he stretched out sausage-like fingers to shake her hand. ‘I’m Liam,’ he said before Jessica could check his name tag. ‘I’m the bar manager here. Nicholas is a little busy at this exact moment but I’ve been told I can offer you any drink you might like on the house while you wait.’

His tone was cheerful and didn’t sound forced. Although it wasn’t high-pitched as such, Jessica would have expected something much more booming from such a hulk of a man. He didn’t even squeeze her hand tightly as they shook.

‘I’m all right, thanks,’ Jessica replied.

Liam glanced towards Rowlands, who offered a sheepish, ‘I’m fine too.’

‘We did have an appointment time,’ Jessica said sternly, wanting to remind the man that they weren’t simply people who had wandered in off the street.

Liam scratched his ear and Jessica realised he was wearing an earpiece. A small radio microphone was clipped to the lapel of his suit. She looked into the top corner of the room and saw a green light blinking underneath a CCTV camera that was pointing straight at them. The man said ‘no worries’ loudly, then turned and waved them towards the door.

The inside of the club was decorated in much the same way as the lobby: red carpets as far as she could see, and the same paint and wood effect around the walls. Liam led them past a row of empty bar stools but Jessica couldn’t help but feel her eyes wander towards the half-dozen women sitting in the back corner. None of them was wearing very much but they spun almost in unison to stare at her. Jessica made sure not to turn away but her attention was taken as she heard a clatter behind her, where Rowlands was picking up a stool he had walked into. Jessica would have offered a ‘look where you’re going’-stare, if it wasn’t for the fact Liam had stopped in front of a door just to the side of the bar.

He used his body to shield a keypad from Jessica’s view and typed in a code before turning the handle and holding it open.

She took the hint, squeezing past him into a large corridor with Rowlands just behind. ‘First one in front of you,’ Liam called after them.

There were four doors, with a fire exit sign illuminated at the far end. In contrast to the rest of the building, the corridor was painted in pure white and felt cold. With Liam watching them, Jessica opened the first door without knocking.

Nicholas Long looked pretty much the same as he had in the photos Jessica had seen, although his skin was redder and his hair thinner. His cheeks sagged slightly over his jawbone as he put down a heavy-looking glass of whisky and stood up from a high-backed leather chair, walking towards her offering his hand. His grey suit looked expensive but it also clung to his portly frame, making him look enormous.

‘Ms Daniel,’ he said, ‘I didn’t realise from your voice you would be quite so . . . appealing.’ His eyes flickered up and down her figure, the words slithering from his lips. Whether he was coming on to her, or trying to creep her out, she wasn’t sure. He was like the lecherous bore at the end of a Wetherspoon’s bar, regaling anyone within hearing distance with stories about how great he was while tucking into a pint of bitter at ten in the morning.

Jessica glared into the man’s eyes and shook his hand. ‘I didn’t realise you’d be quite so . . . old,’ she shot back.

Nicholas paused for a moment and then laughed loudly, though his reply didn’t sound genuine. ‘Feisty too. I like that.’

The man’s office was lined on one side entirely by filing cabinets, with two computers on the desk. Jessica noticed a rank of monitors, including one showing a black and white image from the entrance area they had been waiting in. He saw her glance towards the screen and laughed a second time. ‘I’ve got to keep an eye on my empire,’ he said, returning to his desk and sitting, while picking the glass up in one fluid movement and downing the contents.

‘You’re not driving home, are you?’ Jessica asked, sitting in the seat opposite him, trying to make eye contact. She could feel Rowlands hovering nervously behind her.

‘I thought this was a friendly visit?’ Nicholas replied, reaching into a drawer under the desk and picking out a decanter.

‘This is me being friendly,’ Jessica replied.

The man poured himself a drink and then nodded towards her. ‘Want one?’

Jessica didn’t take her eyes from the man. ‘Whisky’s for old men.’

Nicholas’s top lip began to curl but he stopped himself and nodded at Rowlands. ‘You?’

‘No thanks.’

There was a sofa at the back of the office behind the door and Jessica turned to see her colleague sitting down.

‘Suit yourself,’ Nicholas replied, putting the bottle back into the drawer. ‘So, how can I help you?’ His tone was exaggerated and far too sweet compared to the steely look in his eyes.

‘Eleanor James and Kayleigh Pritchard,’ Jessica said, watching for a reaction that didn’t come.

Nicholas shrugged his shoulders dismissively and checked his watch. ‘Who?’

‘They’re two women who used to work for you.’

He stuck out his bottom lip and shook his head, making the flabby skin of his cheeks wobble. ‘I’ve never heard of them. When did they work for me?’

‘In your casino around twenty years ago.’

Nicholas put the glass down and stared at Jessica before bursting into a forced laugh. ‘Do you know how many businesses I’ve run in that time? How many people I’ve employed?’

‘It must take a lot of experience to run a strip club,’ Jessica said.

The man glared at her. ‘I prefer the term “social club”.’

‘It is a strip club though.’

‘I’m surprised a young woman such as yourself is so against the empowerment of women to legitimately earn large amounts of money.’

Jessica didn’t want to get into that particular argument. ‘So you don’t recognise the two names?’

‘No.’

‘How about faces?’ Rowlands leant forward and passed Jessica two enlarged photos, which she held up for the man to see.

Nicholas smiled provocatively. ‘The one on the left is pretty.’