“The only way Niamh gets the girls to behave is by smuggling in drugs and burner phones,” Gretchen said. “This place is disgusting. If I didn’t need the money, I’d quit.”
“I can’t stand being here,” Abigail said. “I’d rather be dead.”
“You don’t want to be saying that. Offenders who even mention a death wish are sent to a ward that’s a hundred times worse than this. Besides, in a few weeks you’ll be out of here and on your way home.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because that’s the way it works. Girls like you get top barristers. You’ll never be convicted.”
Soon after Gretchen locked the door and left, someone tried the doorknob, then knocked. Abigail looked through the small window in the door. Niamh was standing there, looking pleased with herself. Abigail wondered how she’d gotten out of her room. Perhaps the guards hadn’t bothered to lock her in.
“Let me in,” Niamh said. “I promise not to hurt you.”
“The guard has the key,” Abigail said. “And if I had it, you’re the last person I’d let in.”
“I know where they keep the keys. I’ll get it after everyone’s asleep and help you escape.”
“If you know how to escape, why are you still here?”
“Oh, wasn’t I clear about that? It’ll be the two of us, innit? I’ll see you later.” Niamh disappeared down the hall.
Abigail thought it over. Did Niamh really have access to the guards’ keys? If she did, she’d hardly be hanging around this hellhole. On the other hand, Abigail had witnessed what the guards let her get away with. She couldn’t stand thinking what would happen if Niamh had a way of getting at her. Then she had an idea, a plan that would make them transfer her out of this room to a safer place.
Later, when one of guards brought in a dinner tray, Abigail made a suicide threat that she knew couldn’t be ignored.
“I’d rather die than spend another day here. I’m going to figure out a way to kill myself. In the morning, when you come in with my breakfast, you’ll find me dead.”
“Why did you have to go and say that!” the guard said. “Now I have to take you upstairs and put you in the crazy ward. You’re not going to like that, and the paperwork’ll take me hours.”
The guard took Abigail by the arm and marched her up several flights of stairs to a double door with an intercom next to it.
A female voice came out of the speaker. “Who is it?”
The guard identified herself.
“Don’t tell me you’ve got another one.”
The door buzzed and the guard opened it. A nurse came through a second door to meet them.
“What is it this time?” the nurse said.
“Suicide threat,” said the guard.
“These girls!” the nurse said. “They threaten to kill themselves because they think we’ve got a spa up here.”
Both women laughed.
The nurse pulled Abigail through the second door and locked it with one of the keys hanging from her belt.
Abigail found herself in a large room that stunk of urine. Some girls sat and stared into space, while others paced up and down. Several took a circular route, deliberately bumping into others. There were smaller rooms—bedrooms, she supposed—with small windows in the doors. Some of the doors were closed, with girls looking blankly out of them. The worst part was the constant screaming and banging that made up the ward’s background noise.
As bad as this was, anything was better than staying up all night waiting for Niamh to show up.
Eighteen
The ambulance disappeared, trailed by some of the paparazzi. Watching it leave, Nicole felt a wave of despair. She couldn’t lose Reinhardt now, not when they’d just found each other again.
While DCI Norton conferred with his men, Nicole returned to Reinhardt’s car to wait. She opened the front door just long enough to glimpse the bloody upholstery. Her stomach knotted, and her eyes brimmed with tears. She closed the door, preferring to stand out in the cold.
She couldn’t stop thinking of the men she’d shot. Who were they? Did they have families? Were they hardened criminals or people who’d made bad choices and had gotten in over their heads? She couldn’t stand the thought that she’d just killed two human beings, even in self-defense.
Why hadn’t she handled Sacha’s problems herself instead of enlisting Reinhardt’s help? After Sacha confessed her part in the blackmail scheme, Nicole shouldn’t have allowed the girl to decide whether or not to call the police. She could have gone to her room—out of Sacha’s earshot—and called Norton. He’d have come to the flat and taken Sacha to the station for questioning. It was his job to pry the location of the captive girls out of her. Instead Nicole had taken pity on Sacha, and look what happened. Reinhardt might die, and she’d been forced to kill those men.
These weren’t the first lives she’d taken in self-defense, but that didn’t make it any easier. She felt ill and couldn’t stop trembling.
Over by the van, Norton seemed to be taking his time, conferring with his men, questioning the pair in custody, and talking to the young women who’d been rescued. Several uniformed officers searched the van, while others marched the two detainees back to the inn.
The young women—some no more than teenagers—looked shell shocked and confused, as if they were going from one kind of captivity to another, this time on their way to jail. Cameras flashed as the paparazzi started taking photos. The officers who’d been holding them back marched them away from the scene and stopped behind a curve in the road. From here the cameramen could no longer see what was going on, nor shoot more pictures.
The officers put three of the women in the back of one patrol car, and three in another. Then two cops got in the front seat of each vehicle. Although Nicole couldn’t hear what they were saying, the policemen appeared to be interviewing the women and taking notes.
After watching his team to be sure they were following instructions, Norton walked over to Nicole.
“Sorry for the delay,” he said. “Why don’t we use my car? We’ll be much warmer there, and you can tell me what happened.”
Once they were seated in his car, Norton got out a pen and tablet and began taking notes. Nicole told him about Sacha and her confession that she’d thought up the plan to blackmail Ahmed. She also explained that Sacha had been taken prisoner, brought to this God-forsaken spot, and had managed to escape.
“After that, she hid out for a couple days before turning to me for help. She was terrified her captors would track her down and kill her. I urged her to go to the police, but she said she was too frightened. After some persuasion, she agreed to show us where the young women were being held. Once we knew the location, we were going to call you. But the men on guard here spotted us and came out with an automatic rifle.”
“One moment,” Norton said. “Who is the other person in this we? Are you referring to the man who was taken away in the ambulance? Can you give me his name and your relationship to him?”
“He’s Ronald Reinhardt, my—” she hesitated. “My boyfriend. He used to be a DCI with the Met, like you.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know. I think he might still be in law enforcement, but he won’t discuss it with me.”
“And is he the owner of this?” Norton held up the handgun, now enclosed in a clear plastic evidence bag.
She nodded.
“Where did he get it?”
“I have no idea. He took it from the glove compartment of his car. Look, possession of a weapon isn’t the issue here.”
Norton gave a noncommittal nod and made a notation on his pad.
Two more ambulances came wailing along the road. Once they parked, Norton got out of his car to lead them to the men lying motionless on the ground. Nicole started to follow, then turned back and got in the car. She couldn’t stand the thought of seeing them again.
Norton returned to his car. “They’re both dead. When these men came at you with t
he automatic weapon, what happened?”
“Reinhardt had been shot and was incapacitated. So I took the gun, opened my door, and slid to the ground. One of those men had shot up the side of the car. They were approaching to confirm that no one inside had survived their attack. I was on the ground, partway under the car. I could see their legs, so that’s where I aimed. I got one. He dropped his rifle and went down. When the other man leaned over to see where the bullet had come from, I shot him in the head. By then the first man had crawled over and picked up the rifle, so I shot him again.”
Norton stared at her. “You shot them?”
“I did.”
“Well-done. Frankly, I’m astonished. I don’t doubt your word, but where did you learn to shoot like that?”
“I was in some pretty dicey situations back home, so I got a license for a concealed weapon. I hate guns, but if I have to carry one, I need to know how to use it. I go to target practice regularly. I can’t say I enjoy shooting, but it’s not that hard.”
“Well, I’m amazed.” He shook his head. “You’re such a harmless-looking young woman. By the way, do you know who these men are?”
“I have no idea. But I believe they work for Rakib Ahmed.” She filled him in on Ahmed’s criminal enterprises, concluding with, “Ahmed’s the one who had Sami and Mohammed killed.”
“And you know this, how?” Norton said.
“After Sacha was snatched off the street, she heard his men talking about it. They said Ahmed had the two young men killed, but was planning to ship her to the Middle East so he could make money on her.”
A flash of movement appeared in Nicole’s peripheral vision, only to disappear behind a gigantic oak tree. She was certain it was Sacha.
Norton nodded. “I think I understand enough for now. We can go into more detail at the station. Do you know where Miss Bahar is at present?”
“When the shooting started, she ran away. But I think I just saw her dash behind that big tree.”
Norton started to open his door.
“Wait,” Nicole said. “She’s out of her mind with fear. I think I can calm her down and persuade her to come with us.”
Nicole got out of the car and softly called Sacha’s name.
“You’re safe now,” Nicole said. “Two of Ahmed’s henchmen have been shot. Another two are in custody, and those girls have been freed.”
There was no sound or movement behind the big oak. Nicole wondered if she’d been mistaken. But when she looked behind the tree, Sacha was there, her eyes huge with fright.
Nicole put her arms around the girl. “It’s going to be okay. Those men can’t hurt you.”
She said nothing about what the police might do to Sacha for her role in planning to blackmail Ahmed. Nor did she have any idea what Norton had in mind.
Wordlessly, Sacha followed Nicole to Norton’s car and got in the backseat. Nicole made introductions.
Sacha’s only words were a shaky. “How do you do?”
Norton turned to Nicole. “I know you’re eager to join Mister Reinhardt in the hospital, but I need you to come to the station so I can record your statement while it’s fresh in your mind. If you like, I can check with the paramedics to see where they’ve taken Mister Reinhardt. If he’s already been admitted to hospital, I’ll inquire about his condition.”
They headed for the station with a uniformed officer at the wheel. Norton, sitting in the front seat with the driver, made a call and seemed to be transferred several times. He asked about Reinhardt, thanked whoever he was talking to, and hung up. Only now did Nicole realize she’d been holding her breath.
“They removed the bullet and stopped his bleeding. Now they’re administering a transfusion. You’ll be allowed to visit in a few hours. I’ll be done with my questions by then.”
Norton’s interview of the two women took less than an hour. Sacha was reticent to speak, and Nicole had to help Norton pull information from her. She denied playing any role in the blackmail scheme, and said she had no idea why those men had chosen to kidnap her.
Norton gave Sacha a stern look, as if he didn’t believe her.
“Considering that those men bothered to kidnap you, I’m afraid we’re going to have to put you in protective custody.”
Sacha stood, knocking her chair backward. “No! You can’t lock me up. I don’t know anything. It was a case of mistaken identity. They must have thought I was somebody else.”
“Nevertheless we want to be sure you’re protected until all the perpetrators are in custody. You won’t be staying in a locked facility. You’ll probably be in a hotel room with a female officer to make sure you’re safe. This is not optional. Even if—as you claim—you know nothing about the case, you did see the other women being illegally detained. You’re an important witness.”
Sacha sulked while Norton formally concluded the interview on tape. He made a brief phone call, which summoned a uniformed officer who came in to escort Sacha away.
Norton closed the door. “I want you to promise to keep what I’m going to tell you confidential. We have sufficient evidence to prove that parties other than Miss Fletcher are responsible for killing Sami Malouf. I know how concerned you are about Miss Fletcher, and I want you to know we’re dropping the charge against her and releasing her.”
“That’s wonderful news. I’ll keep it to myself. Thank you for letting me know.”
When they were done, Norton had a uniformed officer in an unmarked police car take Nicole to the hospital.
§
It was 4:00 a.m. when Nicole arrived. The uniformed officer escorted her through a group of a dozen or so men with cameras, who were waiting near the hospital’s main entrance. Two security guards were stationed there to keep paparazzi from entering the building.
Nicole figured these cameramen must have followed the ambulance from the kidnapping scene.
One of them shouted at the officers at the door, “How come you’re letting her in?”
Another called out, “Isn’t she the one we saw at the scene?”
Cameras began flashing. Nicole ignored them. After passing into the hospital lobby, she headed for the information desk. The woman behind it stood, looking alarmed.
“Oh, my goodness—you’re injured. You should have gone directly to A & E. I’ll call for a wheelchair. An attendant will take you there right away.”
“Injured?” Nicole said. “I’m fine.”
“You have blood all over your clothes.”
Nicole looked down at the jacket she’d borrowed from Reinhardt’s closet. Sure enough it bore several large, dark red stains. This must have happened when she was applying pressure to Reinhardt’s wound. She took the jacket off and explained that she wasn’t hurt and needed to find a patient named Ronald Reinhardt. The woman gave her the room number.
He was unconscious when Nicole arrived. With great weariness, she pulled over a chair and sat at his bedside, talking to him and holding his hand. She dropped off to sleep, only to be awakened by a nurse who stopped in every hour to check on Reinhardt.
At noon Nicole got up and fetched a cup of coffee from a small station in the hall. When she returned to the room, a doctor was taking Reinhardt’s vitals.
“Shouldn’t he be awake by now?” Nicole said.
“It’s hard to tell with these things,” the doctor said. “We stopped the bleeding, and the CT scan shows nothing to indicate other internal injuries. I’m guessing—no promises now—he’ll wake up later today. Try not to worry too much. He’s very fit, and his prognosis is good.”
The public address system barked out a code that sent the doctor scurrying away. Tired of sitting with nothing to do, Nicole turned on the TV. A news show was just beginning. One of the top stories covered a police press conference, where Norton detailed the release of six young women who were victims of a human trafficking ring, the arrests of two of the perpetrators, as well as the killings of two others. He said the shootings were the work of a good Samaritan who happened at the
scene.
“This individual used a weapon borrowed from a wounded officer, and I want to thank this person for saving several lives and assisting the police in their efforts.”
A news clip taken when she first arrived at the hospital showed her wearing the jacket with bloodstains down the front. After pointing them out, the newsreader turned to his partner.
“This was taken of an unidentified woman at the scene, who may be the good Samaritan the police are referring to.”
This sent Nicole out to the nurse’s station. “Where can I find the nearest public computer?”
“We have several in our larger waiting rooms.” The nurse directed Nicole to a large waiting room with four computers lined up against one wall.
Only one was in use. Nicole went to the Daily News website. Sure enough, a photo of her appeared near the top of the newsfeed. It showed her entering the hospital in her bloodied coat. It said she was an unidentified person at the crime scene, and asked readers to help them ID her.
If any of our readers know who this woman is and why she was there, please follow the link below to our hotline. We’re offering a £100 reward to anyone who can furnish her name.
This was like a bad dream. If someone revealed her name, it would be easy to find her history from the tabloids back home. They’d reveal a lot more about her past.
She tried to reassure herself. How many of the people she’d met actually read the tabloids? Besides, she had bigger things to worry about. She closed out of the browser and hurried back to Reinhardt. He was still asleep.
Around 3:00 p.m. Nicole’s phone rang. It was Gemma, and she sounded excited.
“Have you heard? Abigail is being released.” When Nicole confirmed that Norton had told her, Gemma said, “Mister and Mrs. Fletcher asked me to invite you to join them for a celebration dinner this evening. It’s at Gordon Ramsey’s at 7:30 p.m. That’s a Michelin three-star restaurant. I’m invited, too. They want to thank you. Abigail is especially eager to see you. And here’s more good news. She seems to have reconciled with her parents. After her experience with so many disadvantaged young women, I think she realizes how fortunate she is.”
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