by Steve Lee
Elena said, “So, do you have any idea how we might find Cat?”
With a red pen, Tess tapped an area she’d circled on the free tourist map of Krakow Elena had picked up in her hostel, a map exactly like the one Catalina had followed.
“We’re sure this is where Cat was looking for work?” asked Tess.
“As far as I know. She looked here” – Elena pointed to another area – “the day before.”
“Okay. But you couldn’t find anyone in this area who’d seen her.”
“No.”
“What time did you try?”
“Last night, around nine thirty, when I just couldn’t settle anymore without doing something. I wandered the streets for hours – that’s how I spotted you.”
Tess jabbed with the pen to emphasize her point. “You see, that could be the problem.”
“What could?” She took another swig of her beer.
Again, Tess tapped the map with her pen. “Well… if Cat tried all these places first thing in the morning, but you went there in the late evening, it’s very possible no one had seen her because the daytime staff had been replaced by the nighttime staff.”
Elena stared at her. A tiny smile crept across her face.
Tess sipped her beer. “What?”
“And you thought you weren’t a detective.”
“Yeah, well I’ll pat myself on the back when we find Cat.” Tess planted her finger firmly in the center of the circled area on the map. “I want to go here tomorrow morning. See if we can speak to people who were actually working around the time we think Cat was there. Is that okay?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me, Tess. Anything that needs doing. Anything. You don’t even need to ask, just tell me and it’s as good as done.”
“Okay, so we’ll meet outside Town Hall Tower at six thirty a.m. Now, about this guy.” She tapped a piece of paper on which was scrawled the name Jacek Grabowski, a cell phone number, and an address.
Tess took out her smartphone. When she’d been in the Far East, she’d never wanted a cell phone. In fact, she’d hated the thought of having one all but surgically attached to her, as ninety-nine percent of the world had these days. Since she’d started making her way back home, however, having one had helped her with travel arrangements and with online research that might enable her to find who she needed to find back home.
She called the number Elena’s receptionist had had the sense to note after Cat had phoned with the message for her mom. It rang and rang and rang. Didn’t even go to voicemail.
Listening to it ring, she shook her head at Elena.
“No one ever answered when I tried it,” Elena said.
Tess let it ring.
Elena coughed. Just a gentle tickle-in-the-throat kind of cough. Except it didn’t go away and she coughed again. And again. And the coughing didn’t stop. Her whole body shook. Elena held her hands in front of her mouth, as her head jerked back and forth.
Tess put her phone down and held Elena’s beer out to her, hoping a drink would ease the cough.
Elena reached for it, but was coughing so violently, her hand hit the glass and splashed beer on the table.
Tess moved around to Elena’s side of the table and held the glass up to her lips. Elena managed a couple of sips. The hacking started to subside.
The rotund waitress who’d laughed at Elena’s joke appeared beside them and said something.
“I’m sorry,” Tess said, “I don’t speak Polish.”
The waitress held out a mentholated candy, the kind people sucked to help a tickly throat.
“Oh, thank you,” Tess said. “Er… Dziekuje.” She placed one on the table next to Elena’s beer.
The waitress nodded and disappeared.
Her coughing under control, Elena patted Tess’s hand. “Thank you. I’ll be okay now.”
Tess retook her seat. “Do you want me to fetch your medication for you?”
Elena shot her a sideways glance. “I only take it because Cat nags me to.”
“Why? Doesn’t it do any good?”
Elena popped the candy in her mouth. “About as much good as this.” She must have seen the sadness on Tess’s face, because the lady reached over and squeezed her hand. “Please, don’t waste a second worrying about me. I’ve had a wonderful life. All I want now is to see Cat safe again. And you’re already helping me with that.”
“But—”
“Please.” Elena gestured to the map on the table and the notes they’d made. “Somehow, I don’t think we have a lot of time.”
Tess took a slow breath. No, Elena was right. If they were to find Cat, they had to start before the trail got too cold.
“Okay, so this address.” Tess held up the piece of paper with the address Cat had given over the phone. “You said you’d tried to find it.”
“I spoke to six taxi drivers. None of them had any idea where it was.”
Tess felt that tingling sensation again. The same one she’d had the previous night when she’d known someone was in the shadows watching. Her instincts said this was not a simple case of someone going missing, but that it was far more than that. Far darker than that. So dark that she didn’t want to discuss it with Elena until she was certain for fear of how it would upset her. But she didn’t need to.
Elena stared unblinking. “This is bad, isn’t it?”
Tess didn’t reply. Elena already knew the answer.
Elena hadn’t received any demands for money so that left only two reasons for why someone would abduct a beautiful woman – rape or murder. Or more probably, both.
Bad? Bad wasn’t the word for it. There was no way the situation could get any worse. Unless…
No, Tess couldn’t think like that. They needed to stay positive. Maybe she could yet offer Elena some reassurance.
“Look at it this way, there’s been no local news story about the police finding a body. That’s a big positive. Very big. That’s what we have to focus on at this point.”
“Okay,” Elena said, forcing a brave smile which was belied by the sadness in her eyes.
Cat might be trapped in a living nightmare, but at least it was still ‘living’. Hopefully. If only Tess could reach her in time. But with so little to go on, could she?
Chapter 05
Tess stood outside Elena’s hostel. In the entrance, a black plastic bag of trash had burst, spilling out water bottles, used toiletries and fast-food packaging. The place looked as inviting as a brothel that offered free crab cream at the door.
Tess waved as Elena entered. “See you in the morning.”
As she turned away, a gang of six young men strutted down the street heading toward the bars in the Old Town. In what appeared to be some kind of English, they talked about a ‘bird’ in the last bar who had ‘norks as big as Tony’s head’. From the context, Tess guessed ‘bird’ meant woman and ‘norks’ were breasts.
In the middle of the group, a guy in a white soccer jersey emblazoned with the word ‘England’ shouted at Tess. His slang and odd accent made what he said almost incomprehensible.
“Alright, love. Now your mam’s away to her pit, how about a pint with me and our kid? This is his stag do but he’s still a free man till a fortnight Saturday.”
Away to her pit? Fortnight Saturday? Stag do? What the hell part of England were they from?
She smiled to placate him, but said, “That’s okay, thanks.”
His friend with a huge pimple on the side of his nose said, “Leave it, Gazza. I tell you, you won’t believe the vag you can get here for a hundred zlotys.”
Gazza shoved his friend on the shoulder. “I’m not sodding paying for it.”
“A hundred zlotys? That’s only twenty quid, you tosser.”
“Twenty quid? So why didn’t you say so?”
Pimple Nose grinned. “Jesus, you’re going to cream your pants in Red Riot. Cream, I tell you.”
They passed by.
Having seen Elena safely home, Tess zigzagged through
backstreets toward her own hotel, deep in thought about what might have happened to Catalina and what might be the best approach to finding her. As she crossed a junction, at the far end of the street on her left, neon signs lured customers into bars.
She stopped.
Scrutinized the signs and silhouettes of people milling about.
A bar might not be such a bad idea.
She marched down toward the nightlife.
As far as she knew, prostitution was legal in Poland but brothels weren’t – in theory. Because of the tourist dollar, Krakow’s authorities chose to turn a blind eye. Maybe the Brits’ idea of looking for a cheap lay had opened up possibilities she hadn’t considered and could give her a head start in the search for Cat.
Tess spotted the club the Brits had mentioned: Red Riot. The building’s medieval architecture was a stark contrast to the pulsing strobe lights shafting through its arched windows.
A guy with a barrel of a chest guarded the door. He smiled as he let her enter. Inside, the lower two floors had been knocked out and lights suspended on a metal rig hung from the double-height ceiling. They spun and flashed and swept in arcs, their light reflecting off the walls and floor, which had been decorated in a silver metallic effect.
Tess wriggled through the revelers to the bar and ordered a bottle of local beer. It cost twice what she’d paid in the bar with Elena, but then, that bar hadn’t offered a light show or opportunities for cheap sex.
Taking a swig of her beer, she surveyed the scene for who might help her with her questions, while music thumped up through the floor and into her feet.
She hoped her logic was sound. Prostitution was legal here, so johns didn’t suffer the degree of social stigma they did in the States. There was a fair chance that a person who would abduct a woman might also regularly pay for sex. If he did, the hookers he used would likely know more than just his name.
On the other hand, if he didn’t use prostitutes but was a known sicko, word would have spread through the hooking community that women had to be wary of him.
Either way, the local working girls might have information which could be helpful.
Of course, he might not use prostitutes and might appear a decent, upstanding member of the community, which would make this a total waste of time. But an investigation had to start somewhere. And right now, this was as good a place as any.
A red-haired girl bursting out of a skimpy black dress lounged on a stool alone at the bar. She did not have a drink in front of her. While the occasional local woman might venture in here alone, or even the odd lone female tourist, Tess doubted they’d be allowed to sit at the bar very long without a drink.
Tess meandered over and stood beside the girl. “Hi.”
Red Head raised an eyebrow and panned her gaze over Tess. “Hi.”
“Do you speak English?”
“Why?” she said with a Polish accent. “Are you looking for a good time?”
Tess winked. “Oh, I’m always looking for a good time.”
A girl with a jet-black bob moseyed over and slung her arm around Red Head’s shoulders. She smiled at Tess. “Are we having a party?”
“Maybe,” said Tess, “but maybe you can help me – I’m looking for my friend Jacek Grabowski. Do you know him?”
“Why don’t you buy us a drink so we can get comfortable and talk,” Red Head said.
A drink, even at twice the normal cost, was a cheap price for information. Tess waved to one of the bartenders, who looked at who she was with and then nodded without even asking what she wanted to order.
“So do you know Jacek Grabowski?”
“No,” said Red Head.
Tess looked at the other woman who just shook her head.
Great. Just a couple of freeloaders. Hell, how did guys put up with this crap when they tried picking up women?
The bartender brought each of the women a brown colored drink in a glass about twice the size of a shot glass.
He held out his hand to Tess. “Two hundred zloty.”
Tess thought he said two hundred zlotys, but that couldn’t be right. “Excuse me?”
Holding up two fingers, he said again, “Two hundred zloty.”
“No, no, no.” Tess pointed to the two women. “I only ordered drinks for these two.”
The bartender stared her coldly in the eye. “Two drinks – two hundred zloty.”
That was fifty bucks. No way was she getting scammed into paying fifty bucks for what was probably worth about fifty cents.
“Come on,” Tess said, “those aren’t a hundred zloty each.”
The bartender waved to someone behind Tess.
A big guy with stubble and a squint reared over her. “Problem?”
“Yeah” – Tess pointed at the bartender – “this guy is trying to rip me off for two hundred zloty for two drinks.”
Squint nodded. “Two hundred zloty is price.”
“Not for me it ain’t.”
She turned to leave, but Squint grabbed her arm. His fingers clawed into her bicep.
She glared up into his face. “You’re hurting me.”
“Two hundred zloty or it hurt more.”
Finally, it clicked: these girls weren’t hookers, not even freeloaders. No, they were employed by the bar solely to scam gullible people into buying them extortionately priced drinks. If the customer refused to pay, heavies moved in. No way would an average joe get out of here without paying or bleeding. But she was no average joe. And there was one hell of a principle here.
She cowered behind her hands. “Okay. I’ll pay. Please, don’t hurt me.”
Squint relaxed his grip, obviously assuming his work was done.
“I need to get my money.” She gestured to her black backpack.
He nodded.
Crouching on the floor, Tess unslung her backpack, opened it and rooted inside on the pretext of looking for her money. There was at least one other bouncer in here who she’d passed when she’d come in, but she’d no idea how many others were around.
Squint stood over Tess, but ignored her while he shared a joke in Polish with the two women who’d gotten her into this mess.
Those few seconds were all Tess needed. She slipped on her black leather gloves and balled her fists. Inside her gloves, the strip of eighth-of-an-inch-thick steel curved over her knuckles to hug them perfectly.
As she stood up, Squint turned back to her and pointed to the bartender. “You pay now.”
Smiling as coyly as she could, Tess picked up one of the drinks. “Look, no hard feelings, huh?”
She held it out to him. Let him think he’d won. Let him think he was the big man. Let him think a skinny woman could never be any kind of threat.
With more of a sneer than a smile, he reached for the drink.
Tess threw it in his face.
He automatically pulled his hands up to his eyes.
Tess stamped through his knee. The bone crunched so loudly she heard it over the thumping music.
He cried out and staggered to one side as all around, people scattered, not wanting to be dragged into violence.
Tess slammed a right hook into the side of Squint’s head and then hammered a kick into his other leg.
Squint crashed into the silver floor. With a broken knee, he wouldn’t be standing unaided for months, so she could rule him out as any further threat.
Something pounded Tess square in the back.
She crashed forward to sprawl over the bar. Bottles skidded away and smashed on the floor.
From the force of the blow, the angle of delivery, and the size of the impact area, her training told her someone had kicked her. She’d be bruised tomorrow, but adrenaline deadened her to the immediate pain.
A follow-up attack would likely come from her right because most people were right-handed. Instinctively, instead of turning to face her attacker, she ducked and spun away to her left.
That instant, another kick sliced across the top of the bar from her right, sm
ashing through drinks people had left to stand.
Glass shards showered Tess.
She cowered for the briefest of moments, then, fists up, Tess faced her attacker.
A tall skinny bouncer stormed at her. He had obviously studied martial arts, probably Tae Kwon Do from his form. He launched a high sweeping roundhouse kick at her head. The kick was so graceful, it must have looked amazing to the bystanders watching from a safe distance.
Tess stepped in closer to him. To those watching, moving closer to danger must have looked suicidal, but they hadn’t spent seven years in the Far East learning how to kill with their bare hands.
While the bouncer’s leg was arcing toward her through the air, Tess’s elbow thundered into his knee.
No sooner had her blow landed, than she flung backfist with the same hand into his face. His nose exploded, blood spurting out across his cheeks.
Grabbing him around the back of the neck, she hauled him forward and slammed her knee into his gut.
Fearing someone might clobber her from behind again, Tess glanced around while her still holding her opponent.
A fat bouncer with a ponytail pushed his way through the mesmerized crowd.
Twisting around, Tess threw the tall bouncer over her hip so he crashed to the floor in the direct line of the fat bouncer.
This fat bouncer proved more agile than he looked and jumped over his colleague.
Tess sidestepped and hammered a kick at him as he sailed through the air, kicking his legs out from under him.
The fat bouncer crashed forward but managed to throw his hands up to protect himself as he smashed into the bar.
Tess stomped on his ankle to put him out of action too. He reared back, face contorted in pain.
Tess spun around. Faced the crowd. Fists up ready to strike.
The bouncer who’d been on the door and let her in was standing on the edge of the crowd. He looked at his three battered colleagues at Tess’s feet, then held his hands up and backed away.
Like the story of Moses and the Red Sea, the crowd parted, making a clear route to the door for Tess.
Keeping her fists up, gaze panning around for a threat, she headed out.