Glenda

A nightclub with a brown oak interior and the smell of leather and expensive perfume mixed with disgusting photographs of naked boys on the walls.

— It's art, miss. The bigots don't understand him. — a passing manager made a sarcastic comment towards Glenda, who was looking at one of the photographs with disgust.

“What a piece of trash, he runs a brothel, but thinks of himself as an aesthete. It’s okay, someday I’ll get to you”

— Good afternoon, gentlemen and lady. — a woman in a deep neckline extended her hand with a ring. — Whom do you want?

She gestured toward one of the tables in the corner that seated five. There weren't many people in the room, which is why they started serving them so quickly.

“Yor…” Glenda began, but Jack immediately interrupted her, neatly hitting her with his boot under the table.

— Wild Penny.

“Wild Penny? God, what a pseudonym. It seems like I don't understand people at all. Jornas cannot be called wild in sex at all.”

— Unfortunately, he is not here today. Besides, he is a favorite of women, not men. You would be bored with him.

“Phew, well, thank God. And all the same, what a blessing that I protected myself every time. From women or men, it doesn’t matter, such people can carry various diseases.”

— Then, Cowboy. We will go to him together.

— Fine. — smiling widely with a Hollywood smile, the owner of the brothel in a floor-length blue evening dress retired behind the bar counter.

— Glenda, you'll have to sit here while we question the witness. — Iver said educationally.

— No, I'll stay. — Jack protested confidently. — You will go to the Cowboy and find out everything. And if you go too far, she will be able to console him like a woman and get him talking.

Glenda was surprised at this turn of events. He is like an uncle who persuades a father to take his daughter fishing at the age of five, when she still barely knows how to sculpt sand cakes.

Sly as a fox, Madame Durso returned on the arm of a young and handsome boy. In a white shirt and jeans, he looked barely underage until she saw the wrinkles around his eyes. He is about twenty-five years old, just very nicely preserved.

“God, how similar to Jornas. This hair and eyes, everything is like his. Stylish and handsome, but submissive, like a bird in a cage.”

— One hundred euros per person.

— I'm sorry, what? — Glenda choked on her beer.

— You will be together, so two hundred euros per hour.

— Okay, madam. Here you go — Iver opened his leather wallet and took out two green bills and handed them to the red-haired madam.

— Come on, gentlemen.

— She and I will go.

— Fine. — The bar owner answered, a little surprised, and continued leading the guests along.

Glenda was embarrassed, but got up from the table and followed the trio.

In the twilight of the corridor with dim red lighting, mirrors hung along the walls. It was not clear to her why they were there, perhaps to create the illusion of involvement, that there were more guests caught in the whirlpool of lust and sin than there actually were.

Nausea rose in Glenda's throat; the only reassurance was that they were not going to do anything reprehensible with the Cowboy, only an interrogation, nothing more.

The door to the small blue room slammed shut. Iver turned the key, now they are alone.

— Which do you prefer, sir and madam? — the guy began obsequiously, but Iver stopped him.

— Listen, kid, that's not what we're here for. We need information on Jornas Cronwood — Wild Penny.

— I won't tell you anything. They'll kill me! — the guy whispered in fear.

— Tell me, otherwise we'll put you in prison.

Suddenly the guy started screaming at the top of his lungs “black, black!” Iver barely had time to cover his mouth with his palm, but there was already a knock on the room.

Glenda leaned over to the Cowboy sitting on the chair and whispered.

— Jornas was my boyfriend and I loved him. I have to find the killer of my loved one, and I promise that I won’t hurt you either.

The key in the lock turned and a thug in a black tracksuit burst into the room.

— What's happening?

— It's okay, Hans, false alarm. — Iver has already freed Cowboy, and it turned out that it was not in vain that he went with Glenda. She was able to persuade the boy to help them.

After looking at the guests with disbelief, the guard left, and Glenda again rushed to the witness.

— We need to know who came to Wild Penny most often? What notes did you tell our investigator about when you called?

— I was completely in vain to blab. Half an hour after communicating with your man, they called me anonymously and threatened that if any information was disclosed, they would come and deal with me.

— Who are they?

— Don't know.

— Was it a woman's or a man's voice?

— Male.

— Did only a woman come to Jornas?

— Yes. — but realizing that he had spilled the beans, the Cowboy stopped short — What? No. I can not tell.