by Koko Brown
“I’m not a parent, but…”
“She doesn’t know what ‘Single Ladies’ means,” Lonán assured her. “It’s just the melody she likes. And it’s kind of empowering as well.”
Atarah lifted her hands in surrender. “Not my business.”
“Says Kermit!” Saoirse yelled in the back, and Atarah burst out laughing. It caught her by immediate surprise. She had no idea that she would be able to find something amusing after last night.
Lonán parked the car outside Medley train station. He unbuckled Saoirse from the child booster seat in the rear and held her hand firmly. Atarah supposed he couldn’t possibly let her out of his sight, not after the “bad man” had caused so much harm.
It’s not your business.
They walked to the ticket machine and Lonán removed his wallet. “These don’t take cash, so I’ll just buy you an open all-day return. To which station?”
“Just a travelcard will be fine,” she interrupted. He gazed at her briefly, his blue-flecked eyes searching for more than she was willing to give away and she kept her face neutral. “It’s cheaper as well.”
“As long as that’s what you need.”
She pressed her lips together, making a noncommittal murmur. He turned and paid for the ticket, while his daughter gazed at her.
“You’re tall.”
“And you’re observant.”
“Don’t you have school?”
Atarah laughed. “No. I don’t have school. Not for a long time.”
“Okay,” she said peaceably. “Will you come to our cottage for drawing and more bananas?”
Atarah looked at Lonán. He didn’t turn his head from the screen. “I told you, I don’t make the rules in the house. That’s all with her majesty. If she’s invited you, there’s only one answer.”
“Sure. Just let me get myself organised and I’ll bring the bananas.”
Saoirse nodded. “Good. Are we done, Dada? D’animals!”
“Yes, darling, we’re done.” Lonán handed over the travelcard. “Here we are. And I suppose we’ll see you later?”
“Yeah,” she agreed, taking the card with a relieved smile. “You will.”
“Take a tenner. For drinks and lunch.” He nodded to her figure and a shudder briefly overtook her body. “A banana’s not going to do you much all the way to town.”
She patted her stomach. “This padding could get me to New York and back. Thanks again.”
She didn’t wait for them to leave the station, but bounded up the stairs to the London platform. The tiny little stall on the station platform offered her a much-needed cup of tea and the day’s newspaper.
Fear made her hold onto it until she got on the train, the ink melting with the heat on her skin and staining her fingertips. She shuffled on with the two other people on the platform and hogged a table seat. Spreading the newspaper out on the table, she scanned for news of a murder. Disappointment battled with relief. She wanted to be caught. She wanted someone, anyone to make her pay for what she’d done. It would lift the guilt, the anguish, the bitterness that had stolen her rest her ease, her confidence, her life.
Atarah curled up in the seat and briefly closed her eyes. She thought she could sleep. She hoped for it until the screaming started in her head and she could feel his fingers on her throat.
You’re going to die tonight, he’d told her, squeezing until her sight blurred. Stupid bitch.
Enough, enough. She uncurled herself from the seat and changed carriages, to change her view, to do something. What did she do before she had a smartphone? What did anyone do before they had a smartphone? It felt like an age and a half before the train pulled into London Bridge.
A few stops on the musty-scented tube and she arrived in the bustling Euston. Once again, she cursed Xiu’s plan. Hiding in plain sight was one of her exceptional skills.
She reached the lockers at the station and took the key from her pocket and removed the elegant leather bag. Relief warmed her limbs and she made her way to the nearest electronics stall. She bought two unregistered, older models of the iPhone, wireless earphones, and several SIM cards to use and destroy. She also bought herself an iPad. She’d set up something to enjoy Netflix. That cottage better have Wi-Fi. Or she’d be borrowing a lot more than just bananas and travelcards from Lonán.
If his daughter said, he’d definitely do it.
“What else do I need?” she asked herself, emerging from a small Afro hair store with enough makeup and products to see her through to the end of next year. She caught her reflection in the nearest shop window, and realised she looked too recognisable. She walked back into the store and headed to the well-ventilated rear to have her hair washed, blow dried and straightened so her hair fell to her armpits.
Next? Clothing could be delivered, but what couldn’t was decent food. She headed to Bond Street and bought most of the frozen food section in Marks and Spencer before making her way back to the flaming countryside.
She had a taxi take her from the station back to the cottage. The driver kindly took out her shopping and left it at the front door for her. As soon as she opened it, she couldn’t help the scream that escaped her throat. Xiu sat in the living room, his hand resting impatiently on his knee.
“What did I say to you before I left?” he asked.
Atarah tilted her head both left and right to loosen her bones. She’d fought enough men the entire week.
THREE
“Ladies and gentlemen!”
Chief Chambers called for their attention just as Xiu hustled into the meeting room. “Hurry up! Sit down and shut up!”
The general mumbling of the SCD Team quieted to silence. Chambers had a way of commanding attention without raising her voice. If you saw her lips moving, you needed to close your mouth. Her dark hair, sleekly tied into a knot at the top of her head, highlighted an excellent complexion, and her smooth skin shone under the harsh artificial lights of the room. She smoothed the cuffs of her cream shirt before she spoke.
“The right-hand man of one of the most notorious organisations has been found mutilated. It looks like it was a hell of a fight. Body was found inside a flat by a cleaning lady, ten a.m.” She slapped a picture on the white board behind her. A close-up of a kitchen knife protruding from the man’s eye glared at the roomful of coppers.
Atarah did that…
“We’ve run the prints, but haven’t got a bean. The flat belongs to some shelf company, so we’ve no clue who owns it. Even the cleaner says she’s never met the person who lives there.” Another picture went up, this time of the victim’s fully mutilated body. “In case you’re interested, his penis was found on the other side of a forty square-foot room.” Every single man in the room groaned, none more than Xiu. He recalled the smell of the decomposing body. Of blood. Of Atarah’s fear.
“We catch the crim on this, we’ve got a way in to catch every single one of these traffickers. They are more dangerous than drug barons, worse than any gun crime, because what they do filters into every bit of their victims’ lives. STDs, rape, money-laundering, assault… The list I don’t need to repeat to you before my third cup of coffee. Xiu!”
He tried not to jolt too much at being called to the attention of the entire room. “Yes, ma’am.”
“I need you to find out what’s going on. Tap your source.”
Xiu’s heart thundered in his chest, but he gave a simple nod. “Ma’am.”
“Everyone else—eyes and ears to the ground. The quicker we do this, the quicker we are in to take the rest of those bastards down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the chorus of voices.
Xiu got up and headed straight for his desk. The chief chased after him. “What’s your hurry?” she demanded, slowing down to match his steps.
“I need to go to the hospital.”
Chambers blinked, tilting her head into his view so he couldn’t avoid her. “What for?”
The trick to lying would be to remain as close to the truth
as possible. “I picked up a trafficked child last night.”
“You weren’t on shift last night,” she reminded him.
“I’m always on duty, ma’am.”
She patted him on the back. “Good answer. But I do need you on this murder. This guy is our way in, I feel it in my bones.” Lowering her voice, she confided, “We’ve tried to get people inside, gain their confidence, but they can smell us coming. They call it the bacon effect.”
Xiu found that hilarious. Hysteria, lack of sleep, worry; all three, perhaps–but his chief looked at him as if he were on drugs.
“Sorry, ma’am. I’m just worried about that kid.”
“Fine. Go there and come straight back. We’ve got CCTV to go through.”
He gave a short nod and whipped his coat from his desk, snatched up his keys and headed straight for the hospital. He didn’t hear his partner call after him, or the DC who had been assigned to him.
“I’ll be back in an hour,” he threw over his shoulder. Glancing down at his mobile, he saw no missed calls, so the hospital hadn’t felt the need to call him in. Maybe the boy was still sleeping or he had been sedated. If that was the case, the hospital would have no idea the boy spoke only Mandarin.
Atarah what the fuck are you involved with, he thought, angry and torn between wanting to strangle her for dragging him into an awful mess and being absurdly pleased that she had called him in the first place. Her first thoughts had been of him.
His mind tangled a thousand theories until he reached St Anne’s. He flashed his badge in the paediatric ward and was shown to the boy’s bed. He looked tiny against the pure white sheets on a small single bed.
“Good morning,” he said in Mandarin. “How are you feeling?”
The boy sat up gingerly and rubbed his eyes. “I hurt. All over. Where’s the lady with the big hair? The one who helped me?”
“She had to go away,” Xiu explained. “Can you tell me what happened?”
The boy shook his head, tears filling his eyes. “I want my mum,” he sobbed.
Xiu’s heart squeezed for what he had witnessed, but it was far more important that Xiu knew to help all of them. “I know. We’ll find her. But I can’t do that without what you can tell me.”
The boy sniffed, wiping his wrist under his nose. Xiu leaned to his right and plucked a tissue from the box. He waved it in the boy’s snotty vicinity and he took it. “Didn’t the lady tell you what happened?”
“She didn’t tell me everything,” Xiu said. “Can you help me?”
The boy paused, staring at him with big, bruised eyes. “Can I talk to the lady first?”
There was no phone in the cottage. And he’d taken Atarah’s, just to be safe.
“Sorry. It’s just me. Don’t worry, I’ll ask her to come and visit you.”
The boy picked at the hospital bed sheets, and Xiu initiated the voice memo on his phone. He waited patiently for the boy to begin talking. “It was my fault,” he began, and tears skimmed over his pale cheeks. “The bad man said my mum would be there if I followed him.”
“Where did you see the bad man?” Xiu asked. “Where were you?”
“Mum and I came in the truck. We were cold. Colder than we were in the plane. Mum said we flew into Germany. I asked, why can’t we stay? They have good footballers in Germany.”
Xiu smiled at his logic.
“Mum said we have family in the UK. We had to come here. We got in a truck, with so many other people. It was so cold. When we stopped and the doors opened, the lady with the big hair told us where to wait. She told us she could get us out and keep us safe. I don’t know where my mum went. I couldn’t see her. She let me go.”
The boy stopped, pressing his fists into his eyes. “The lady with the big hair said she would find my mum for me, and she asked my name and my mum’s name. I told her and she checked her list. She had a clipboard. She said she knew where my mum would be. Then the bad man came and said he would take me. He and the lady with the big hair had a fight.”
“What did they say?”
“She said something about doing what…” he scrunched up his face. “I can’t remember the name she said. But they had to do what she told them. Not what the bad man wanted to. The bad man held her like this.” The boy put a hand to his throat and Xiu’s own neck felt tight. “And he said he did what he liked.”
“You understood?”
“He said it in my language. I think he wanted me to understand.”
A particular technique of the trafficker. Instill fear immediately.
“He said the… I don’t know her name!”
“It’s okay,” Xiu said gently. “The lady with big hair will tell me. Carry on.”
“He took me and put me in his car. He said he’d take me to my mum. He lied. The lady with big hair stopped him hurting me. But he didn’t move. And she didn’t talk. Then you…” Xiu stopped the recording. “You came,” the boy finished. “And you brought me here. Did you find my mum?”
“Yes, I did. And you’ll be with her as soon as a nice lady comes to talk to you with the doctor, okay? Thank you for telling me what happened.”
The boy frowned at him. “Will the lady be okay? Is she hurt? Like I was?”
Jesus Christ, he hadn’t even considered. “No, she’s fine. Don’t worry about her.”
The boy’s attention wavered behind Xiu. A doctor and what Xiu assumed to be a social worker approached the boy’s bedside.
“We didn’t think he spoke,” the doctor said, looking at Xiu suspiciously.
“I’m DS Xiu Jiang.”
Inevitably, their eyebrows rose. Asian coppers were not the norm, he knew. But it was the job he’d chosen. And until yesterday, he loved it with every fibre of his being.
No that was a lie. Until he met Atarah, he’d loved his job. After he met her, he challenged every part of his work and why it put him in the path of someone so fundamentally without morals. “I brought this child in last night.”
“Do we have a name for him?”
“This is Wen,” Xiu said, sending the boy a small smile. He leaned up in his bed and threw his arms around Xiu.
“Tell the lady I said thank you, too.”
“What did he say?” the other woman demanded.
“He said thank you,” Xiu lied, his voice thick with a hundred emotions he couldn’t begin to describe. He bent towards the boy’s head. “I’ll tell her. None of this is your fault. The bad man won’t ever hurt you or anyone else again.”
“Good,” the boy mumbled, then let him go and sat down on the bed. He looked as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders.
“You can’t go,” the doctor said, her voice stern. “The translator isn’t here yet and we need to ask him some questions about his health, and what happened to him.”
“You’re a doctor. What happened to him is medically obvious,” Xiu snapped. “He’s been through enough. I won’t subject him to anything else.”
The doctor held up her hands. “Fine. But the social worker needs to assess him.”
“Once she’s done, I’m taking him to his mother. He doesn’t need a hospital.”
“All right.” She gazed at him. “You’re dedicated.”
“Some of us are,” Xiu retorted.
The doctor examined poor Wen, while Xiu and the social worker waited outside the drawn curtains. On her report, the social worker made notes of his injuries, then beckoned for Xiu to accompany her. Wen didn’t pick up on Xiu’s reluctance to mention Atarah, and he glanced at the social worker’s notes to see “lady with big hair” underlined several times.
“Thank you, Wen. The policeman and I are going to take you to your mum now.”
Xiu stared at her. “Why are you coming?”
“I can’t leave him alone with a strange man, no matter whether he’s throwing hugs at you or not. That’s not procedure. And I’ll have to talk to his mum.”
Fuck’s sake. “Fine. I brought some fresh clothes for him with me, so he doesn’
t have to wear what he spent travelling in for the better part of four days.”
“Good thinking.”
They waited for Wen to change into his brand-new clothes and trainers, all purchased with Xiu’s own money for the boy’s comfort. He seemed energised to be out of his hospital gown and, furthermore, to be heading to his mum. They agreed that the social worker would drive, with Xiu following.
“That way, you keep your promise,” the social worker added.
“Or we all go in my car and I drop you back to the hospital. Honestly, the safe house isn’t that far from here.”
“So where did they all come from?”
“A big trafficking ring brought them from Germany. God knows what they paid to travel to this country. He was singled out by one of the traffickers.”
“And how did you find him?”
“That’s got to stay classified,” Xiu answered shortly. “I don’t want the investigation to be compromised by anything else I say. You understand?”
“Of course.” She glanced over her shoulder to where Wen had fallen asleep in the back seat. “He’ll be all right. With support and a dedicated plan, he’ll manage.”
What a trite piece of shit to say, he thought with disgust. As if she would have ventured to utter the same thing about a little girl. “Managing isn’t the same as living. What happened to him will mark him for the rest of his life.”
The social worker made a noncommittal sound before announcing, “That sounds like the voice of experience.”
“I’m a copper. I would be the voice of experience.”
Sensing sarcasm, the social worker sat back and tapped away at her phone. They reached the safe house without any further conversation. Xiu parked the car and carefully woke Wen from his sleep. He panicked for a moment, his hands jerking out to hold onto something. Xiu caught his hands gently.
“It’s okay,” he said in Mandarin. “We’re going to take you to your mum.”