“How did you get back to London?”
Sacha got up and went over to the window to gaze out. Clearly she didn’t want to answer any more questions.
“How did you get back?” Nicole repeated.
“I didn’t have any money.” Sacha was still staring out the window, her back to Nicole. “So I hitched a ride. I was lucky. The chap who picked me up was a decent sort. He dropped me on the Strand near King’s. I walked back to the dorm.”
“That’s quite a story. But I’m not sure what you want me to do for you.”
“I need to find somewhere to hide from these people.” Sacha sounded exasperated. “Maybe here. Maybe I could stay with you for a while.”
“First I’d like more information. From what you said, you must have gotten back to London, what, two days ago. Is that right?”
Sacha nodded.
“Where have you been since then? And what about those girls at the inn? Have you told the police about them?”
When Sacha turned back toward Nicole, she looked resentful.
“How could I with those men after me? The first night, I hid in the basement of the dorm—the janitor always leaves the door unlocked. One of those blokes came looking for me. He went down to the basement with a torch and looked around. I hid behind the furnace until he left. Then I got out of there.”
To Nicole, Sacha’s account was sounding more and more improbable, as if she was making it up as she went along.
“Where did you go then?”
Sacha was silent for a bit. “The next morning I went to the National Gallery. I spent the day there, wandering around like a tourist, sometimes sitting on a bench like I was studying the art. I found a claim ticket someone had dropped and took it to coat check. They gave me the raincoat and hat, which made a good disguise. At closing, when a guard came through to check, I went into a stall in the women’s toilets and stood on the seat until he moved on.”
“And you just left those girls to be trafficked to Saudi Arabia?”
“I know it was a terrible thing.” Sacha’s bottom lip was trembling, and she appeared on the verge of tears. “But I didn’t have any choice, did I? If I went to the police—”
Reinhardt’s home phone rang. When he’d first brought Nicole to his flat, he’d said that no one had the number. It was untraceable and safe for her to use. She hesitated before she decided the caller could only be Reinhardt himself. She went into the kitchen and picked it up.
“This is taking longer than I thought,” he said. “I’m not sure when I’ll be done.”
Only now did Nicole realize Reinhardt hadn’t met her at the flat as he’d promised. She’d been so absorbed in Sacha’s story that she’d forgotten.
“Nicole?” he said. “Are you there?”
“I am. I have to go.”
“Are you angry?”
“Not at all. Something unexpected turned up. I’ll tell you about it when you get here.”
“You’re sure you’re all right? If you’re in any danger, say the word. I’ll come now.”
“Don’t worry. Everything’s fine.”
After hanging up, Nicole turned back to Sacha. She was certain the story she’d just heard was a fabrication. Yet she believed that something bad had happened to Sacha. She appeared to be genuinely frightened.
“I can see you’re in a tough spot,” Nicole said. “I can understand why you’re afraid to go to the police if people are following you. But we’ve got to tell the authorities about these girls. How about this. I’ll call the detective who’s working on Sami’s case. He can come here so you won’t have to worry about anyone following you. Once you tell him what happened, the police can protect you. And you can show them where those girls are.”
“No!” Sacha shouted. “If I tell, they’ll find me and kill me. I know too much.”
“You know too much? What does that mean? Is there something you haven’t told me?”
Once again there as a long silence before Sacha spoke up.
“Okay. There is something else. Those blokes told me the police knew about the whole Nannies International scheme. Their boss paid off the coppers to keep them quiet.”
Nicole stared at the girl. “Really? I find that hard to believe. I’ll bet they just said that to scare you.”
Sacha appeared to consider this. “Maybe you’re right—that they were trying to scare me. But the people running this Nannies scheme have a lot of connections. Everyone in East London knows what they’re doing, but they’re afraid to say anything.”
“Who are you saying knows? Does that mean you knew it was a front for human trafficking? Do you know who’s behind it?”
Sacha took a small sip of brandy, then another. “Not really. I just heard talk. I thought I’d check to see if the operation was legitimate, but I had my suspicions.”
“Suspicions are a start. You’ve got to tell the police about those young women, no matter how much it scares you. I’m calling that detective.” Nicole picked up the phone.
Sacha grabbed for it. “I’m not talking to the police!” she yelled. “All I need is a place to hide. Don’t you get it? Those men will kill me!”
Nicole set the phone down. “Sacha, I don’t think you’re telling the truth, and there’s no way I can help if I don’t know what really happened. Here’s my best guess. You didn’t go to Nannies International to apply for a job. Those men picked you up somewhere else and for another reason.”
Sacha didn’t say anything.
“You and your friends had some kind of connection with the Nannies organization. At the very least, you knew what was going on, and this got you in trouble with them. Isn’t that more like it?”
Sacha still didn’t answer. She hung her head, and tears dripped onto her lap.
“I’m willing to help,” Nicole said, “but first you have to tell me the truth.”
“All right.” Sacha pulled another crumpled tissue out of her purse and cried into it. “This is all my fault. If it weren’t for me—” She broke down and sobbed.
Nicole got up and retrieved a box of tissues from the bathroom and placed it on the coffee table in front of Sacha.
When the girl stopped crying, Nicole said, “Go on.”
“Rakib Ahmed, the guy Sami worked for, runs Nannies International. And it’s not an employment agency. He and his partners ship English-speaking girls to the Middle East for prostitution. The business brings in a lot of cash, which Ahmed launders through a bunch of convenience stores he runs. Sami was sleeping in the store’s back room one day when he overheard Ahmed talking about it to this guy who runs a mobile repair shop.”
“Yo?” Nicole said.
“That’s the one. Sami came to my dorm that afternoon to tell me. He was really upset that Ahmed would do such a monstrous thing. He wanted to report him to the police, but he knew that if he did, the store would shut down and he’d lose his job—” Sacha cried into a fresh tissue she’d pulled from the box. “I’m the reason Sami and Mo are dead. If only I’d kept my stupid mouth shut.” She blinked back tears.
Nicole made a keep-going gesture with her hands.
“I told him it wouldn’t do any good to report Ahmed. A hundred other wannabe traffickers would be lined up, waiting to take over.” She met Nicole’s gaze and raised her voice. “You know it’s true. This trafficking will go on with or without Ahmed. So I told Sami he had another option that could benefit him, as well as me and Mohammed, if he chose to include us. I said, tell Ahmed you know all about Nannies International. Tell him he has to pay you money—twenty thousand pounds, maybe thirty thousand—or you’ll go to the police. If he threatens you in any way, let him know you have partners who know, too. If any harm comes to you, they’ll go to the police and tell them who’s responsible.’”
“Why did you think Ahmed would pay blackmail money when he’s a criminal with enforcers working for him?” Nicole said.
“Because he pays people to keep quiet. Like Yo. Ahmed gives him thousands every month
not to tell the police about it.”
“How do you know this?”
“I’ve heard talk, and Sami said he’d overheard Ahmed and Yo discussing it.”
Nicole remembered what Reinhardt had said about Yo being a convicted felon and a con man. He also thought Yo might be a police informant. Rakib Ahmed must have believed Yo had an arrangement with the police. That would make him willing to pay Yo hush money. But these kids had been incredibly naïve to imagine they could get away with the same thing.
“I have another question,” Nicole said. “I can see why Sami would cut you in. It was your idea. But why Mohammed? He didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“We’ve been best mates since we were little. We stick together. If one of us gets in on something, we all get in. But Ahmed refused. He threatened Sami, but Sami wouldn’t back down. Toward the end, though, he seemed pretty jumpy, and I had the feeling he was desperate to find a place to hide out. Before he could do it, Ahmed had him and Mo killed.”
“You’re sure about this? How?”
“Those blokes who kidnapped me were talking about it. They said Ahmed wasn’t going to have me offed—that’s the word they used—like Sami and Mohammed, because he could make money selling me abroad. When they forced me into their car, they told me not to try to escape because they’d hunt me down and kill me.”
“Wait a minute, Sacha. I’m confused. Earlier, you said you were in the back of a van with no windows. But just now you said you were in the back of their car and could hear them talking.”
Sacha flushed and lowered her head. “It was a car. I was in the backseat.”
“So you saw where they took you. You know where those girls are. I’m calling that detective. You’ll tell him what you told me. And you’re going to lead the police to those girls. If you do that, Ahmed and his associates will be locked up for human trafficking and murder.”
“You don’t get it. They’ll kill me. If you try to make me tell the police, I’ll say I don’t know anything about it—that you misunderstood me. I’ll tell them I applied for a job as a nanny. They kidnapped me, and I escaped before they could ship me abroad. I’ll deny any others were being held prisoner.”
Nicole shook her head. “How can you refuse to save these girls from a fate that would have been yours if they hadn’t helped you?”
Before Sacha could answer, the front door opened and Reinhardt walked in. Nicole ran over to hug him. They exchanged a quick kiss before she introduced him to Sacha and gave him a brief recap of what Sacha had told her.
“Quit talking about me like I’m not here.” Sacha was staring at the two of them, as if trying to figure something out. “Is he your boyfriend or something?”
Nicole hesitated, but Reinhardt said, “I’m hardly a boy. But you have the general idea.”
“And you’re with the police?“
“No.”
“But you are some kind of cop.”
He put on the same noncommittal expression he wore when Nicole asked about his work.
“I’d like to make a suggestion,” he said. “Show us where these girls are being held, and Nicole and I will go to the police. That way you won’t be involved.”
“If I leave this building, they’ll find me. They’ll know I told.”
Reinhardt looked at Nicole. “Did you come in through the other building like I told you?” When Nicole nodded, he turned to back to Sacha. “They have no way of knowing where you are. But even if they did, they won’t see you leave. We’ll wait until dark before going down to the garage. You’re safe in my car. It has dark windows, which are hard to see in, especially at night. As an extra precaution, you can stay down until we’re well on our way. Direct us to where they’re holding the girls. We’ll observe the location from a safe distance. I’ll bring you back here and make sure you’re locked up securely before Nicole and I go to the police.”
Sacha drew in a long, shuddering breath. “Okay. But I have a bad feeling about this. I’d like to be alone. Is there somewhere I can lie down?”
Nicole showed her to the guest bedroom.
Once Nicole returned to the living room, she whispered, “When I first met her, she seemed like a such a sweet, polite young woman. It’s hard to believe she came up with the blackmail scheme that got Sami and Mohammed killed.”
“I never trust first impressions,” Reinhardt said. “They rarely hold up.”
Nicole thought about this, wondering what Reinhardt’s first impression of her had been. He certainly hadn’t made a good first impression on her. He’d struck her as sinister. She’d actually been afraid of him.
The two of them settled down to watch TV in the living room, drink tea, and eat the popcorn Nicole found on the top shelf of a kitchen cupboard, and microwaved. Once in a while, Nicole got up to check on Sacha, who appeared terrified of what was about to happen. She alternated between lying on the bed and pacing. When Nicole offered her something to eat, Sacha declined.
Around 4:00 p.m., Nicole went in and offered her a sandwich.
“No, thanks. I don’t think I could hold anything down.”
“Seriously,” Nicole said. “You don’t need to worry. Reinhardt knows what he’s doing.”
“You don’t understand what these people are capable of.”
“Believe me, I do. But you’re safe as long as you follow his instructions.”
At 5:45, the sun set. Once it was dark, Reinhardt went into his room to change. He emerged wearing black slacks, a black turtleneck, and a black knit hat. The outfit made him look dangerous, reminding Nicole of that first impression.
She stared at him until he said, “What?”
“You look like a cat burglar.”
“That’s so I won’t be easily spotted in the dark.” He flipped down the cuff of the knit hat. It covered the top half of his face and had eyeholes in it.
“I’m not going to ask why you’d have a hat like that or where you’d wear it.”
“Good. Because if I told you, I’d have to kill you.”
They both laughed. Sacha remained distracted and unsmiling. After putting on their coats, the women followed Reinhardt down to the garage. Two cars were parked in Reinhardt’s spots—the sports car he usually drove and a black sedan with dark windows, which Nicole had never seen before. Following Reinhardt’s lead, they piled into the sedan.
With Sacha navigating from the backseat, the drive took a little over forty-five minutes.
At last, she said, “The turnoff is about two kilometers ahead.”
Reinhardt turned off his headlights and slowly approached the turnoff to a narrow side road. He stopped just short of a sign lit by a streetlight. It said, RICHLAND INN. Beneath that, in smaller letters, Established in 1839.
“We can’t see the building from here, and I don’t want to drive any closer,” Reinhardt said. “But I am getting out for a little reconnaissance. If there’s a car in front of the inn, it might be worthwhile to wait and see if it leaves so we can follow it. If there’s no car and no lights, I might get a little closer to check the place out.”
He slowly pulled the car forward until they were on the other side of the turnoff and behind a stand of trees. Then he opened his door.
“Whatever happens, don’t get out of the car.” He turned off the engine but left the keys in the ignition. “If I’m not back in fifteen minutes, or if you hear shots or any other disturbance, drive on a few kilometers and call nine-nine-nine.” He pulled a gun out of the glove compartment. “You know how to use this, right?”
Nicole nodded. Back home, she forced herself to go to target practice at least once a week. Of course, she’d had to leave her gun behind when she flew to London. Not only were firearms banned on planes, but British law forbade anyone to carry a concealed weapon.
He demonstrated how to release the safety before handing the gun to Nicole.
“Lock the door after me. You’re safe in this car. Do not leave it under any circumstances.”
He got ou
t and disappeared into the trees abutting the road. He wasn’t gone long before the women heard two shots fired, then a barrage of answering fire from an automatic weapon. Nicole heard Sacha open the rear door on the right, which faced the main road.
“Sacha!” Nicole said. “What are you doing? Stay in the car and duck down. I’m going to drive down the road and call the police. You won’t have any cover out there.”
But Sacha was already out of the car. Even before the door clicked shut, Nicole heard her running away.
As Nicole started to climb over the gearshift to get in the driver’s seat, Reinhardt sprinted out of the woods. Nicole unlocked the door.
He slid in and started the car. “One of their bullets hit me in my right arm and kept going. Feels like it hit a rib, and it hurts like hell. I’m still on my feet, but I’m afraid I won’t be much use with a gun. I’m going to—” He glanced around to back up when he noticed the backseat was empty. “Where’s Sacha?”
“As soon as she heard the shots, she got out and ran off.”
Reinhardt glanced out his window and whispered, “They’re coming. Get down!” He went down on the seat, pulling Nicole with him.
“What’s happening?” she whispered.
As if in answer, a ratta-tat-tat of bullets knocked out the driver’s side window with an explosive crash. Whoever had shot Reinhardt had strafed the side of the car with an automatic rifle. Only by chance had the two of them been below the trajectory of the bullets.
Next the men would no doubt approach the car to make sure no one had survived. Reinhardt was in no condition to put up a defense. It was up to Nicole to make sure these men didn’t get another shot at them.
“I’m getting out,” she whispered.
She took Reinhardt’s silence to mean he agreed with her plan. She pushed a button so the dome light wouldn’t go on when she opened the passenger door. With the gun in one hand, she slid out of the car. She dropped to the ground and released the gun’s safety. She scooted over so she was partially hidden behind the rear tire and pointed her gun under the car. The glow of a flashlight came into view, illuminating two sets of lower legs.
Nicole took aim at one of the legs and fired. Perfect. One of men went down with a scream, dropping the assault weapon. His companion bent over, aiming the flashlight under the car to see where the shot had come from. As soon his head came into view, Nicole fired three more shots. At least one of them struck him. The man keeled over and lay motionless on the ground.
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