Chapter 6

Liz Dunbar sat at her desk, puzzled, early on a Friday morning.

She worked in a very obscure office in the Kentucky Department of Revenue. Her job and that of her few colleagues was to cross-check liquor purchases reported by wholesalers in the state with liquor sales reported on an establishment’s Schedule C. She had been doing the work for only a year but had already earned far more than her salary by finding an establishment whose liquor purchases were far larger than could be explained by reported sales.

Her finding triggered undercover visits to ensure that the bar wasn’t really using half a liter of liquor to make each drink. They were followed by a surprise audit which in turn produced additional taxes as well as fines and penalty payments.

The reason for her being puzzled, though, was just the opposite. She was looking at the report for an establishment called The Girl Spot. The problem she faced was that the Spot’s reported sales for tax purposes were a substantial multiple of the sales of liquor as estimated from the wholesalers’ reports.

Liz took her concerns to her supervisor who could not have cared less. As far as she was concerned their job was to find establishments buying more liquor than their sales indicated not one that was buying much less. Indeed, Liz felt, it was the classic bureaucrat’s reaction: It no my yob!

Returning to her desk, she thought for a minute and then called her best friend, Jake Brewer. Liz had known Jake since ... forever! The Brewers — and Jake — lived next door to the Dunbars when Liz was growing up. And although Liz was four years younger than Jake, he never minded when she hung out with him and his friends. At that time, Jake was a lieutenant in the Kentucky State Police. He was close to completing his law degree after getting his BA in criminology with a minor in economics. Clearly, Jake was on the fast track with the state police.

Remarkably, Jake was at his desk when Liz called.

“Jake,” she asked without preamble, “do you know of a place called The Girl Spot?”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” he replied. After a pause he added, “It’s a high-class strip club, if there is such a thing.”

“You sound familiar with it. Are you?”

“Yes, I am. A number of my guys work there on their off-duty hours. I guess they like having state police as bouncers.”

“Uh...” Liz stammered, “could you take me there? Like tonight, maybe? And by the way, where is it?”

“It’s on the road between Frankfort and Lexington, closer to Lexington, though.” Then Jake said, “Liz, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you interested in The Girl Spot?”

Quickly she filled him in on what she had found, laying it all out. She didn’t hide the fact that her supervisor had less than no interest in what she had found.

“Tunnel vision!” Jake exclaimed. “Good grief! Hasn’t that woman ever heard of money laundering?”

“I don’t know,” Liz replied. After a pause she added, “I’ve heard of it, Jake, but honestly I don’t know what it is. What is it, anyway?”

“I’ll give you a simple illustration: Years ago when a lot of bookies ran numbers games, they often would also own coin laundries or vending-machine operations. The reason was that most of the bets on numbers were quarters. As a result, the bookies would take in quarters almost literally by the basketful. But since the numbers games were illegal and they didn’t want to attract too much attention, they needed the legitimate businesses that also handled large numbers of quarters.

“It was funny, really. Although initially they didn’t care about the legitimate businesses except as a way of laundering their quarters, some of them became very successful, and some ended up going straight. But the fact was the real purpose of the coin-op businesses was to handle deposits from their numbers game.”

He chuckled and added, “A couple of them got too greedy, though. They chintzed on the legitimate businesses — they were really too small for the money they were allegedly making — and they were caught because they couldn’t have taken in all the money they were depositing if every machine they owned was running 24 hours, seven days a week.”

“Oh... !” Liz breathed. “So that’s it.” She paused and then asked, “Who owns The Girl Spot then? From what you just told me, if they’re laundering money someone with other illegal business interests must own the place.”

Jake thought for a moment before replying. “It’s owned by Jumbo Jones.”

“You mean... the sheriff?”

“That’s one of his occupations. He is also reputed to own brothels featuring underage girls — as young as 12 — more than a few illegal stills, some illegal after-hours clubs ... Let’s just say that in his county — and beyond, to some degree — if it’s illegal, it’s Jumbo’s.”

“Wow!” Liz exclaimed. Then she mused, “I just wonder ... Maybe my supervisor knew more than she let on. Just maybe...”

“It wouldn’t come as a great shock,” Jake commented. “There are at least a few representatives and a couple of senators in the statehouse who are supposed to be on his pad. Taking care of a supervisor in the Department of Revenue could be handled with petty cash.”

“So will you take me?”

“Still want to go?”

“You said you’ve got a number of your people there, so we should be okay, right?”

Jake agreed and later picked Liz up at her apartment on the Lexington side of Frankfort. For reasons unknown to her, she had left work early and had spent the extra time cleaning her apartment to a degree she never had before.

It was well after dark when they reached The Girl Spot. Immediately, Liz was a bit surprised. She had seen strip joints in the past and they usually had flashing neon signs with girls stripping in lights. But not this place. There was a very plain sign close to the road that just said “The Girl Spot” in very readable red letters. But that was all. The building itself, she realized, would look pretty shabby in the daylight, but didn’t look bad at all after dark.

And the club even had valet parking!

Jake drove up to the waiting valet. As soon as the car came to a stop, one of his off-duty troopers was there to open the door for Liz. As she alighted, Jake, who was already out of the car, could see that the officer’s eyes had really lighted up on seeing her.

In preparation for the evening, Liz had shaved everything, even her whole pubic area leaving only a “landing strip” above her clit. She was wearing her “little black dress” along with thigh-high black seamed stockings and a black thong. When Jake called for her, he forbade her to wear her glasses. The glasses were wire-rimmed and very severe-looking. Liz thought they made her look more professional. Jake thought they looked dumb. And because Liz had perfect eyesight they stayed in her apartment.

Beyond that, though, Liz had worked on her face like she never had before. Her eyebrows were plucked, her hair was short in an urchin cut, and she had even broken out the Chanel No. 5. What am I doing this for? she wondered. This is only a business call with my best friend accompanying me.

“Hi, Jack,” Jake greeted the bouncer. “We’re here to see Sam Kramer. Is he in tonight?”

The off-duty officer grinned and whispered, “Lieutenant, you’re really moving up in class! Your girl is an utter knockout ... and all class!”

“And she’s also my best friend,” Jake replied, trying to cool it.

They went into the club and Jack had passed the word about seeing Sam Kramer, the general manager of the club. The pair were escorted to the back of the club where the bouncer knocked on an unmarked door and announced that there were visitors.

Shown into the office, Liz was impressed. Things were extremely neat and organized. After the introductions, Liz revealed her position with the Department of Revenue but stressed that her visit was unofficial. Nevertheless she asked about the club’s tax returns. Kramer proudly announced that he prepared them all personally, and went to a file drawer and brought out a file.

All of the returns were stacked neatly in the file and held with an Ace fastener. When she saw the return on the top of the stack, Liz’s eyes widened. The entire return was printed — obviously Kramer had the software for the Commonwealth’s tax forms on his computer — and the neat column of numbers had been computer-printed. But the copy of the form submitted to the state had handwritten numbers. She took out her copy and put it on Sam’s desk.

“Where did that come from?” Kramer demanded. “I never sent that in.”

“I can see that, Mr. Kramer,” Liz replied. Then she asked, “Do you have a magnifying glass, by any chance?”

In his very well-equipped office, Kramer did. He took a large glass from his desk drawer and passed it to her. She looked at Kramer’s file copy and then used the magnifier on her own.

“Jake, take a look at this,” Liz said, “and tell me what you see.”

Jake did and then announced, “Someone took a blank report, cut off the data section and then pasted it over Sam’s report. Notice that the lines are close, but don’t quite line up. They look fine to the naked eye, but under magnification it’s easy to see where the old and the new come together. Further, you’ll note that Sam’s copy has only one signature — his — while your copy, Liz, has two.”

“I ... I send it to headquarters,” Sam explained. “They make a copy for their files, sign it, and send it in. At least that’s the way it’s supposed to work.”

Liz and Jake had seen enough. Clearly, any hanky-panky was being done elsewhere. Just then there was a soft knock on the door, and Sam called out, “Come in.”

The door opened and a stunningly beautiful young woman came in wearing a white terry bathrobe. “Hi, Mel,” Sam greeted her. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to let you know that the plumbing appears to be working fine, so it’s a Go for the next show.”

“Folks, this is Mel Brewster, one of the two stars of our show,” Sam proudly announced. “She and Jill Barnes alternate as the stars.” He chuckled and added, “Mel appears as Monique, and Jill, as Monica. So far, no one has tipped to the fact that it’s the same name, only one is the French version.”

Mel was introduced to Liz and Jake. Liz was nearly overwhelmed. Melanie Brewster was truly drop-dead gorgeous. She was tall — about five feet ten— with golden hair in a short urchin cut, and gorgeous blue eyes. Her voice was soft and lovely as she invited them to stay for her appearance. “We’re trying something new tonight,” she told them. “I think you’ll enjoy it.” Then she grinned, winked and added, “At least I hope you will!”

Liz and Jake exchanged looks and then agreed to stay. Mel grinned, then scampered off. The couple went out to the club where they were greeted by a waitress who had just hung up the phone. Since she escorted them to a table in front at the center of the semicircular stage, Liz concluded she had just been speaking with Sam Kramer. Her thought was confirmed when the girl quickly removed a Reserved card from the table.

The first thing Liz noted was a brass railing about three feet out from the edge of the stage that circled all the way around it. “This is one thing that’s very different from the normal strip club,” Jake explained. “Normally, the first row of tables is right against the stage so the patrons can give money directly to the dancers. But here, with that railing, the dancers are out of reach.”

Liz had been looking at the dancer on stage and marveled. First, to her utter amazement, the girl’s breasts appeared to be even smaller than her own very-modest B-cups. On the other hand, the girl’s were perfectly shaped with two nipples that appeared to be as hard as little pebbles. The other thing was the girl was dancing to a modern jazz piece that was almost classical. And her movements were those of a gymnast or a trained dancer. And she was completely nude.

“Where ... where would this girl put money, if the patrons could give her any?” she asked.

Even in the dim light she could see Jake blush. “You really don’t want to know.”

Then it was Liz’s turn to blush as she realized the only possible place would be for the girl to take it in her vagina. “You mean... ?” she asked, pointing down to her crotch.

“I mean!”

“This girl looks more like a modern dancer or a gymnast than a stripper,” Liz commented.

“As a matter of fact, I think she’s both. She’s a senior at University of Kentucky in Lexington,” Jake replied. “A lot of the dancers are. But you’re right: This club really goes its own way where talent is concerned,” Jake whispered. “I gather that some modern dance groups are dancing nude these days. It seems that a lot of the girls don’t mind dancing that way; it’s the pawing they don’t like. That, and having to cadge drinks from the customers between times. And that’s something else this club doesn’t do either.”

At that point the girl concluded her dance and stood with a very warm smile on her face — almost a grin — and with her feet spread and her arms upraised. There was a great deal of very warm applause. Liz took the opportunity to look around the club. It was a Friday night, of course, so she expected a crowd. But on the other hand, this was only the first show, so it was really quite early for such a club to be so crowded. Beyond that, though, she was surprised to see the number of couples in the audience, and equally surprised to see that, for the most part, they were all well dressed. She was amused to see a number of other women wearing their own little black dresses.

When the dancer left the stage, Liz noticed for the first time a number of blank envelopes in a holder in the middle of their table. Looking around, she realized that there were similar holders on all the tables. “What are these for?” she asked.

“To tip the dancers,” Jake replied. “If you want to leave a tip, you call over a waitress who’ll tell you the name of the dancer if you’ve forgotten it. You write the name on the envelope, put in whatever you feel like and give it to the waitress. And believe me, my guys make damned sure the right girl gets all the money that’s coming to her.”

At that point, an off-stage voice announced, “And now, ladies and gentlemen, The Girl Spot is proud to present the star of our show, Monique!” He paused and then said, “It’s six o’clock, Monique. Time to get ready for your date.”

The stage had been in darkness while the announcement was being made. At his words, the lights came up to reveal Monique (Melanie) lying in bed. At the announcer’s words, she yawned and stretched, revealing that she was totally nude. Getting out of bed, she proceeded to go through a series of stretching exercises that revealed the fact that she was incredibly muscled. Moreover, from the way sweat started to flow from her body, it was apparent that the exercises she was doing were real.

Completing her exercise routine, she moved to the side of the stage, and more lights came up. The audience gasped as they realized there was a full glass-enclosed shower on the stage. Furthermore, when Monique turned the control, it was apparent that it really worked. Getting in, she proceeded to wash herself all over, paying particular attention to her vulva and breasts.