Sara Queen sat at the interview room desk, leaning forward, resting on her elbows, her red hair tied up in a large bun, her face lightly made up, a cigarette burning from her slender fingers. She wore a pink floral printed mini dress, with full-length sleeves that puffed out at the ends, and white knee-high boots. She looked less working girl, more a film star relaxing between takes.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she purred, taking a drag from the cigarette before continuing. “How are we both? I believe it’s been a long time.”
“A good couple of years for me,” Ray agreed as he sat opposite her. “I won’t ask if you’re keeping out of trouble.”
“Do I look like trouble?”
“Right now, you look like butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth.”
Sara took a long drag on the cigarette, flicking the ash to the floor, then smiled and exhaled. “Well, I suppose everyone has to dress down outside of work, don’t they?”
“We all do. Now, let’s get to the point. I understand you’ve got something you think might be of use to us?”
Joseph had his pad out ready to note down her story. She looked at him and smiled.
“Worried you’ll forget what I say, sweetie?”
“Just want to be as accurate as possible, Miss,” he replied.
“It’s Ms, please.”
“Doesn’t that sort of ambiguity hurt trade?” Ray jibed back. Sara turned her attention to him again.
“You would be so surprised how many men get off on the idea of being with someone’s partner.”
“I really doubt I would.”
She laughed. “No. I suppose if there’s anyone who sees things through a similar prism to me when it comes to men, it’s you chaps. You’re surrounded by bastards everywhere.”
“I don’t think there’s any need for the language,” Ray cautioned.
“I always forget how sensitive you are to swearing,” she grinned. “Such a gent.”
“I must be a turn-up for the books.”
“Quite. Anyway, enough catching up. I think I heard something on the night that man got killed.”
“The night of Gerald Trainer’s murder? November 9th?” Joseph wanted that clarity.
“Yes, November 9th. I was with a client. Must have been a little after one in the morning. Maybe quarter past. We were, well, I suppose that part isn’t totally necessary for your records, but we were engaging in a transaction, if you will, when we heard this noise.”
“What sort of noise?” Joseph didn’t look up from his notes.
“Shouting mainly. Men’s voices. Two of them.”
“Could you hear what they were saying?”
“No, but I could tell that they were arguing. They both sounded angry, really going at it.”
“Did you recognise the voices?”
Sara shook her head and took another drag on her cigarette. “No, that would make your life easier, wouldn’t it? I’m afraid not. All I can give you is a time.”
“You can also tell us where you were. You were in earshot, after all.”
“Of course. We were behind the docks on Bowater Road, just hidden out of view in an alleyway. Not that there were many folks about, and these things never last that long.” She said the last part with more than a little bit of pride.
“And from there you could hear the shouting? Was it close?” Ray asked the questions now.
“I would think so. Not too far away. It definitely came from the docks.”
“Thank you, Ms Queen. You’ve been a great help,” Ray said.
“Before you go,” Joseph interrupted, “do you know the name of the person who you were with? It would be really useful for us to be able to double-check your story.”
Sara pulled a face of mock shock, then laughed. “Are you saying you don’t trust me, officer? This is my professional reputation at stake, but, ah, it is a man’s murder we’re talking about.” The lack of sincerity in her words suggested she wasn’t that bothered about a man’s murder, her reputation, or that of the man she was about to name. “No, it’s fine, it’s one of my regulars. Crusty old dog from the docks. Derek something or other.”
“Nadderley?” Joseph expected her to name someone else. She didn’t.
“That’s the fellow.”
*
Ray and Joseph asked a couple more cursory questions before they stepped out of the interview room.
“Derek Nadderley!” Ray sounded a little incredulous. Joseph just shrugged. “Well, I guess you never really know, do you? Lonely life working some of those shifts.”
“We’ll have to check his side of the story,” Joseph acknowledged.
