The victims of the Taser gun robbery case were both stripped of their clothes, which was originally thought to be due to some special fetish of the perpetrator, but now it seems it may be related to the profession of striptease.
The police checked on both victims, and neither of them had been involved in that profession, which did not match Luke's deduction.
Luke could only consider other angles and pulled up a map of Los Angeles on his computer, locating the places where the two victims had been robbed. The two locations were not far apart, separated by just a few streets.
Using the two crime scenes as a starting point, Luke searched for strip clubs within a three-kilometer radius, and at the intersection of the two circles, there was a similar club—Boel Club.
Luke suspected that the "Taser gun robbery case" might be related to this club.
If he was wrong, it would just be an eye-opener; he'd never seen this kind of show before.
Luke grabbed his cellphone and made a call, "Hey, David, are you asleep?"
"Come on, I need you for something, let's go out for a drink."
Before Luke could finish, the call got disconnected.
"What a boring old man," Luke complained, then dialed Marcus, the little black guy's number.
A voice with a rap rhythm came from the phone, "Buddy, just tell me what you need."
"Got time? Let's go out for a drink."
"This is the first time you've asked me out for drinks, where to?"
"Wow, that's a nice club... You've got taste, kid," Marcus chuckled mischievously.
Luke said, "Be at my place to pick me up in twenty minutes."
Ten minutes later, a black Ford pulled up outside, and Marcus waved at Luke through the car window, "Buddy, hurry up, I can't wait."
Luke got into the driver's seat and asked, "Have you been to Boel Club before?"
"A couple of times before. It's a pretty sizable joint, with Black, white, Asian, and Mexican girls." As he said this, Marcus patted Luke on the shoulder,
"Hey, what's gotten into you all of a sudden?"
"Just drive properly," Luke did not feel like entertaining him.
If this guy were a cop in China, he'd have been made an example of by the department by now.
Marcus parked the car in a parking lot near the club, and they walked to the entrance of Boel Club.
There was a sign above the door, accepting Bitcoin.
"There are two kinds of dance clubs, one doesn't charge an entrance fee, the other does; this one belongs to the latter." Marcus made a gesture for Luke to go ahead of him.
Several burly men were checking IDs at the door, denying entry to those who were underage.
After presenting his driver's license, Luke entered the club's main gate, where there was a ticket booth on the right, with a sign reading "Admission $20 US Dollar."
Luke didn't pay but instead pulled out his badge, "I need to see your boss."
The middle-aged woman in charge of ticket sales looked at Luke, confused, "Is there a problem?"
"No... our boss isn't in the club right now."
"That's okay, I can wait."
Luke boldly proceeded into the club.
Astonished, Marcus said from the side, "Whoa, what's happening now? Are you here to watch the show or to investigate?"
"Watch the show first, then investigate."
"You suspect this club has something to do with the Taser gun robbery case?"
Luke countered, "What do you think?"
Marcus didn't respond; his gaze was already drawn to the stage in the hall.
Specifically, it was a few of the dancers on stage.
Mostly Caucasians and Latin Americans, they were mainly wearing lace, some topless, others not, but all were clad in thong underwear.
Some had excellent figures, while others were slightly overweight or plain.
Whether this club had anything to do with the Taser gun robbery case or not, Luke figured his visit wasn't a waste after all.
It was an eye-opener.
Luke ordered two bottles of beer, each priced at ten US dollars.
Sitting at the bar surrounding the stage, he drank his beer while enjoying the dance performance.
What surprised Luke most was the number of female patrons present, who seemed even more enthusiastic than he was.
Marcus nudged Luke's arm, "Buddy, which one do you like? I like the one by the pole," Marcus pointed to a Black dancer. "She's really something. I'd like to see her perform solo."
Luke glanced at her. The Black dancer was average-looking, with okay proportions, but a bit on the plump side—Luke couldn't agree with Marcus's taste.
Half an hour later, a Black man with a gold necklace came over, "Officers, our boss invites you backstage."
"OK, lead the way," said Luke, who had seen enough of the repetitive acts; it wasn't all that interesting after a while.
"Marcus, time to get to work."
"Yeah, good times always fly by."
With the Black man leading the way, they entered backstage, where there were several private booths. For an extra fee, one could watch private performances, which was legal in Los Angeles.
There were several female dancers backstage putting on makeup and changing outfits. Marcus, with a big grin, said, "Wow, this place is even more exciting than the stage."
The two men were led to a round table next to which sat a middle-aged man with long hair, red lips, eyeshadow, and nail polish, looking a bit effeminate.
"Sir, I'm Paul, the owner of this club. I hear you're looking for me?"
"I'm Detective Luke, and this is my colleague Marcus. We'd like to ask you about two individuals."
"Although I may not be able to help, I'm more than willing to..."
"Thank you," Luke took out Tony's photo, "Have you seen this person?"
Paul pinched the photo with two fingers, examined it, and then placed it back on the table, "Who is he? Is he related to our club?"
"We're investigating a robbery case, and the man in the photo is a suspect under investigation. He might be a regular here."
"Sorry, I can't possibly recognize every guest that comes here."
"Please have your staff help identify him."
Paul passed the photo to a subordinate with a few whispered instructions.
A few minutes later, the photo was handed back, and Paul said, "My staff don't recognize the person in the photo, sorry, it looks like we can't be of much help."
Luke put away the photo and continued to inquire, "How many female dancers does your club have?"
"Roughly around thirty."
"As the owner, you should be well aware of the number of your employees."
Paul thought for a moment before replying, "This job has its peculiarities, with a high turnover. Many are part-time—here today, gone tomorrow. They come when they feel like it and might not if they don't. The number of dancers changes often."
"I'm looking for someone around thirty years old, Caucasian female, with golden long hair, about 170cm tall, likely one of the club's dancers."
Paul asked, "Why are you looking for her? Is she also a robbery suspect?"
"No, she's not a suspect."
"Then why are you looking for her?"
Marcus said, "Hey, knowing too much ain't good for you. We tell you what to do, you do it. Let's wrap this up quickly; it's better for everyone, OK?"
Paul pursed his lips and turned his head to one side, contemplating whether he knew someone like that. After a while, he ordered his staff, "Call Kelly over here."
"Kelly is the only one here who fits your description. She's quite fiery, you'll like her," said Paul.
Soon, a bikini-clad blonde approached, "Boss, you called for me?"
"No, it's these two officers who are looking for you."
"Wow, you're beautiful," Marcus stood up, circled around the blonde, "Are you a regular dancer here? When do you perform?"
Kelly replied, "I'm here from Tuesday to Friday, sir. Is there something you need?"
Once again, Luke showed Tony's photo, "Do you recognize this man?"