“She is, but of whom? Of us, the mysterious black-haired woman, or somebody else, who knows?” Gibson shrugged. “She said she shouldn’t talk to anyone and ran off.”
“But she did,” noted Jason, “which implies she knows she is up to her neck in something bad.”
“Yes, she knows,” said Gibson. “She said, before running off, and I quote, ‘There are others, like me and Gemma’. I take it she means blackmail victims. Without restraining her, she wasn’t going to say anything else.”
“Emily wouldn’t name the other woman or say where she lives?” asked Jason.
“No. Flatly refused. I pointed out that what she’s doing is extortion and illegal. Her response was, she had to hand over the money within the hour or else the photos go public. She said it automatically, as if coached, but, I don’t know, sir, it’s like she is in two minds. Uncertain. When I asked how the photos would go public, she looked confused, as if she didn’t know.” Gibson sighed. “She’s not what I would call the mastermind behind all this.”
“What happens now?” asked Gemma. Why had they let Emily go? Why not follow her?
“Emily shows the other woman the lesser amount,” said Jason. “That will force them to show how desperate they are for the money or how manipulative they are prepared to be. I suspect they like to play games and make some money on the side.”
“They. You think this involves both of them?” said Gemma, aghast, running a hand through her hair. She still couldn’t place Emily in the role of villain.
Jason pinched her chin between his finger and thumb, forcing her to face him. “Gem, they appear to be working together, don’t they?” He let her go. “Um?”
She ignored the obvious. She couldn’t face the idea. “Why not confront this woman at the dance academy?” She persisted with finding a solution.
“How do we know there aren’t others involved? A little network of blackmailers, sharing photos and information. No. If we force them out, others may act in their absence. We can afford to do this properly. Go to your dance class and see what Emily leaves in your bag again.”
The bag. Why did they carry on with the charade of her dance class? It all felt like a setup.
She went to settle back in her seat when a belated thought crept into her mind. “Why didn’t Emily query who Gibson was?”
Gibson answered. “I said I was your trusted friend who came to keep an eye out for you, make sure you weren’t harmed. That you didn’t know that I planned to talk to Emily.”
“She believed you?”
“I don’t think she knows what she believes,” Gibson frowned. “She’s one screwed-up woman from what I can tell.”
Gemma went to the dance class and, for the second week, didn’t impress her instructor. Gibson didn’t sit in the changing room. The bodyguard had been exposed as her friend. In any case, they already knew Emily was the courier. All eyes, the team Martinson had put in place, were on the café and the appearance of the well-dressed woman nicknamed Raven.
Gemma came back from her class sweaty
and anxious. The changing room was unusually quiet with two others present in the opposite corner. She opened the bag. Another white, unsealed envelope. Gemma couldn’t resist looking, consumed by the need to understand her enemy. Inside, no photograph, just a piece of paper, which looked like it had been torn out of a notebook. The text, handwritten in capitals letters and probably scrawled in a hurry. Reading it through, she could see why. The failure to provide the full amount had caused a change in tactics.
GEMMA. ANOTHER £500 NEXT WEEK, SAME LOCATION. I’M OWED.
YOU MUST CONTACT ME BY E-MAIL BY FRIDAY EVENING.
IF YOU DO NOT, THE PHOTOS WILL BE OUT THERE FOR ALL TO SEE.
IF YOU CANNOT PAY WITH MONEY, YOU WILL PAY WITH YOUR BODY.
Underneath the ominous words was printed an anonymous e-mail address.
Her body? Gemma feared what that threat meant. Her blackmailer had revealed things weren’t just about money. She believed the photographs had stirred up more than simple thoughts of acquiring money. Before returning the note to the envelope, she memorised the e-mail address.
Stuffing the note back in the envelope, she tossed it back in the bag and zipped it up. Back out in the car again, she passed the bag to Jason. Fishing out the note, he read it then passed it to Martinson.
Jason frowned and tucked his hands behind his head. Leaning back, he looked up at the roof of the car. “Games. She wants to play online with you. She knows you have been and possibly are still a sub. She wants to have fun with you. The money is an extra; she probably only added that condition recently.”
“Did Emily go and find the woman again?”
“Same routine as last time. Emily didn’t hang about. She’d already given Raven the money earlier. We watched her write a new note. She looked a little flustered by the change in money. Thompson is following Emily.”
Martinson spoke into his microphone. “They’re leaving? Sir, Raven and the girl are leaving. Dave is following.”