As they left the Police Station, Natasha paused. ‘I need to go to sector five, but you heard what the officer said. You should go back to Comana and get your case. Leave your number with my family and I’ll contact you when this is over.’
‘I can’t let you go there on your own.’
‘You can and you must. This is not your problem. Look what happened to Rosie and Kathy after they got involved. I don’t want you on my conscience as well.’
‘Look, young lady, I’m not leaving your side this time. So we can stand here arguing about it, or we can get over to sector five and do what the police should be doing.’
Natasha hesitated a moment. Knowing just how ruthless the trafficking gangs could be, she was worried about involving Alison in her search, but she was also nervous about going it alone. She slowly nodded. ‘Thank you.’
Alison took out her mobile phone. ‘I was here a few weeks ago researching for my magazine article. I have a number for a taxi firm, but there are two things we need to do before going to sector five.’
Natasha frowned. ‘What are they?’
‘We need to hire a car and get you a mobile phone, and before you say anything, I can legitimately put it on my expenses, so no arguments please.’
Natasha raised her hands, palms forward, indicating surrender. ‘No arguments.’
A little over an hour later, and with the evening closing in, Alison drove them in a one-year-old silver Hyundai hatch-back to the South-West area of Bucharest, known as sector five, looking for the Rahova and Ferentari Districts. She pulled over on the side of the road and took out her mobile phone.
‘I think we are close, I’ll just open my map.’
Natasha glanced around the darkened streets of low-rise buildings, a few with roofs missing, some with makeshift repairs of wooden boards and plastic sheets, a sign that these ramshackle blocks of concrete were still considered home by many.
Alison found their destination on her phones map. ‘We are close, how well do you know Bucharest?’
‘My grandmother is British, but she has lived in Comana near here for most of her adult life and all of mine, so I know the city centre well but not the suburbs.’
‘So you don’t know much about the Rahova and Ferentari areas then?’
‘I’ve heard about them, but I’ve never been. I know some parts are very deprived areas, what people in the West call ghettos.’
‘Bucharest is one of the cities I covered in my article last month about girls from Eastern Europe migrating west for a better life. One of the people I interviewed while I was here was a woman who worked for the city. She mentioned sector five and in particular Ferentari. She described it as an area of the living dead. She said the people living there were largely made up from the Roma population and were Romania’s poorest communities with no quality-of-life. Although the authorities are trying to clean up the area, drug dealers and addicts are still prevalent and crime levels are high, from robberies to rapes to murders. She said parts of the area are under a mafia-type control of drug dealers and moneylenders, and when residents are unable to pay their debts, the criminals often take over their flats leaving them with nothing.’
As they drove, Natasha looked around at the long, grey, five storey blocks with their rows of uniformly square windows that differed only by the colour of the tattered curtains hanging there. Outside, household rubbish, sometimes two feet deep, littered every conceivable space in front, behind, and between the blocks.
She slowly shook her head. ‘It sounds horrible, and if this area is anything to go by it looks horrible.’
‘I think this must be the Ferentari District we’re in now.’
Natasha covered her nose with her hand in an attempt to block out the stale stench of rotting rubbish seeping into the car. ‘How can people live like this?’
‘They are without hope. They have no jobs, no income, and no prospect of changing their lives, so they lose pride in where they live.’
‘It’s so sad, I wish there was something I could do to help.’
‘Me too.’
They drove to the end of the road and crossed over to the Rahova district, a grid of parallel streets with similar grey, two and five story buildings but of differing sizes and with less rubbish. They drove along the first street then back along another, and another. Natasha studied the vehicles, especially the vans and small trucks then, in a gap between two accommodation buildings, she found what she was looking for. Her heart leapt and she reached out and grabbed Alison’s arm. ‘Stop here.’
Alison pulled over but kept the engine running.
Natasha scanned the area. Dim lights shone from windows, silhouetted figures lurked in doorways and others loitered on corners, barely moving. The occasional cigarette-end glowed red as its owner inhaled.
Alison gripped the gearstick. ‘We’re being watched.’
Natasha nodded. ‘I know.’
8
MASON
Mason walked home with anger still bubbling inside him over what had just happened at the restaurant. It was a perfectly normal emotion for any father under the circumstances but its intensity concerned him. He hadn’t just wanted to teach them a lesson, he had wanted to kill them, and even he had to admit, that was a little extreme.
Just as he was thinking how lucky those guys had been to escape unscathed a car screeched to a halt next to him, three doors sprang open, and the three guys from the restaurant jumped out all carrying baseball bats. They fanned out surrounding him in a half-circle, with the first guy who had assaulted Rosie in the middle. He was now wearing a black baseball cap pulled down just above his eyes.
Mason focused on him. ‘Where’s the game boys?’
The middle guy sneered. ‘Right here and now.’
Mason turned his stance forty-five degrees. Ready to move. Ready to counter any attack. The bats were long. To deliver a blow they would need to be pulled back and swung with enough force to be effective. This was to Mason’s advantage. His years of martial arts training and police self-defence instructing gave him options in this situation. Instead of backing away, Mason moved closer to the guy in the middle until the distance between them was just four feet.
The guy in the cap tensed, clearly surprised at Mason’s actions. He must have expected Mason to back away, maybe even run, but that didn’t happen.
Mason held eye contact. ‘It’s your move, but remember what I told you in the restaurant about thinking long and hard. Because, regardless of that piece of wood in your hand, it still applies.’
‘You think you can take all three of us?’
‘I think we’re about to find out.’
The guy in the cap tightened his grip around the bat’s handle.
Mason studied his eyes. There was a wild element to them, but also a hint of uncertainty.
As he raised the bat and pulled it back Mason moved with the speed of a trained fighter. A ramrod punch to the guys jaw knocked him out quicker than a switch turns off a light. Before the guy hit the ground Mason turned and delivered a roundhouse kick to the ribs of the second guy lifting him off the ground. When he landed, he rolled around, groaning and holding his side.
Mason squared up to the last man standing. ‘It’s your choice pal, up until now you’ve not done anything. You didn’t touch my daughter and you’ve not said a word. Drop the bat and that will be the end of it.’
The guy glanced from his unconscious friend to the one rolling around in agony and then back at Mason. He swallowed hard and charged forward.
Mason ducked the first swing then moved in. He ended the conflict with a three punch combination. Hard and fast. Two to the body, one to the jaw.
Mason lowered his fists and scanned the scene in front of him. The first guy was conscious again but like the second guy showed no appetite for further confrontation. The third lay prone and still.
Mason turned and walked away without looking back.
When he arrived home Kathy was waiting and from the stern
look she gave him he guessed she’d spoken to Rosie. ‘So you’ve heard?’
‘I just text her to ask how things were going and she told me what happened.’
‘I couldn’t stand by and let them treat her like that.’
‘Of course you couldn’t and from what Rosie said they got away lightly. If I had been there they’d have got more than a few stern words.’
‘It’s a good job you weren’t then.’
He decided not to tell her about the altercation in the street. She’d worry if she knew they had waited for him with baseball bats, and he was confident they wouldn’t return. They’d failed twice with their intimidation tactics and probably wouldn’t risk being humiliated again. So it was better not to mention it, and there were other pressing matters that needed discussing.
‘We need to talk, Kathy.’
She didn’t look surprised. It was obviously on her mind too. She nodded and sat down at the kitchen table.
Mason sat opposite her. ‘So where do we go from here?’
Kathy shrugged her shoulders. ‘I suppose it’s up to you.’
‘What’s the situation with you and Peter?’
Kathy glanced down at the table, her cheeks flushed as she rubbed her hands together. ‘It’s over.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I told you, I was lonely with all the hours you were working in the police because I hardly ever saw you. But now you’ve resigned we can try again.’ She raised her head and looked across the table at him. ‘Can’t we?’
Mason studied her before answering. They’d been together over twenty years and during that time he’d never even considered straying. But now he needed to confess. ‘I have to tell you something.’
Kathy’s eyes widened as she studied his face. Then she nodded once. ‘You slept with her didn’t you? You slept with Natasha.’
Mason nodded.
‘I was right. I knew she wanted you.’
‘It wasn’t her fault, it just happened.’
‘Are you not going to make excuses? Blame her? Claim she seduced you? Say it didn’t mean anything?’
Mason didn’t answer.
‘Well?’
‘No.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I’m not going to lie to you.’
‘So it did mean something?’
Mason nodded.
Kathy breathed in sharply. ‘I suppose I only have myself to blame. So what do we do now?’
Mason shook his head. ‘I guess we try and bring some normality back for Rosie’s sake. After her ordeal she needs it, and we need to put her first.’
‘I won’t argue with that, but what about you and Natasha?’
‘There is no me and Natasha, it was a one-off. I can’t pretend it didn’t mean anything because it did. I owe my life and even Rosie’s life to that girl.’
‘How?’
‘While searching for Rosie I went into one of the gang’s houses where they were holding girls. I pretended to be a punter. Rosie wasn’t there, but three other girls were and they were being held against their will. I couldn’t leave them there. A fight broke out with the three traffickers. I took out two but the last one got the drop on me and was about to stab me with a huge hunting knife. I’d left Natasha in the car outside but she came in just in time, picked up a domestic clothes iron, and caved his skull in. If she hadn’t done what she did I may not be here now and Rosie would still be held by The Scarlet Club.’
Kathy slapped the table with her hand. ‘Brilliant! Now I’m not even allowed to be angry at the girl who fucked my husband because she saved his life, and as a result, saved my daughter’s life. That’s screwed up, no pun intended.’
‘She’s gone home, we may never see her again.’
‘I hope not.’
9
KATERINA
Katerina huddled on the end of the sofa, her knees up to a chin, ankles tucked in, and her dress trapped between her calves and thighs so as not to give Anton and the others any ideas. She studied them all closely. Anton sat at the table drinking coffee and making cigarettes. She watched as he scattered bits of stringy tobacco along small strips of white paper, licked along their length, and rolled them between his stained, yellowy-brown fingers.
Hugo and the butler stood by the window talking quietly. What were they waiting for?
The butler paused mid-sentence and turned to look out of the window. ‘He’s here, Anton, bring him up.’
Anton grunted, put down his skinny, self-rolled cigarette, and left the room.
Katerina waited in nervous anticipation, her body gripped by tension, not knowing what to expect. Possible images of the mystery man outside flooded her mind. She eventually settled on a big evil looking man with cruel eyes and a deep growling voice. Basically, the most frightening man she could imagine, and although she had no idea who he was or why he was there, she guessed it had something to do with her. She held her breath as the footsteps in the hall drew closer.
Anton entered the room first and the mystery man followed and shook hands with the butler and Hugo. After simple greetings he turned and looked straight at her. She breathed out and stared back.
Her mystery man was thin, scrawny even, with wispy hair and small sunken eyes. Next to Hugo he seemed frail and certainly not intimidating. In fact, he was the polar opposite of what she had imagined.
The man motioned with his hand for her to stand up.
She remained huddled with her chin resting on her knees and tried to pull her legs closer with her arms.
He motioned again followed by a stern instruction. ‘Stand up… now!’
She shook her head in defiance then looked at Hugo and the butler, but they just watched her and said nothing. She looked back to the new visitor who, although frail in stature, now appeared irritated.
Timidly, she placed her feet on the floor and stood up.
The man studied her closely. First her face, then her hair, down to her legs and back up to her face. He reached out and placed his thumb on her chin. ‘Open your mouth.’
Katerina obeyed.
‘Good, nice white teeth.’
He ran his hand down her arm. ‘Soft skin.’ He prodded and pinched her waist then gripped her arm and turned her around.
She gasped as she felt him raise the hem of her dress.
‘Good figure. Turn back to me.’
Katerina turned around.
‘Pretty face too.’ He looked at Hugo. ‘Is she one of yours?’
Hugo nodded.
‘How old is she?’
‘Twelve.’
Katerina watched for his reaction. Maybe he would be the one to say she was too young.
The man nodded slowly and continued to study her, a look of deep concentration across his face. ‘She could pass for younger,’ he said, looking pleased with this observation.
Katerina sighed inwardly, another faint hope dashed.
The man reached into his pocket and took out a smart phone, then held it up and began taking photos of her. After snapping what she guessed was around six or seven photos he pointed to her dress. ‘Take it off.’
Katerina gasped, then looked straight at Hugo and waited for his objection. Who does this skinny guy think he is, telling her to take off her dress? He’ll soon see, Hugo will tell him. She held her breath as she watched the big man. But Hugo’s reaction was not what she’d expected.
He nodded at her. ‘Do as he says.’
She felt the blood drain from her face as she looked from Hugo to the butler and then back to the frail photographer. But she had to check again, just to make sure she wasn’t hearing things. She looked back at Hugo. ‘Do I have to?’
Hugo nodded again. ‘Yes, you do. He just wants some more photos. Don’t worry, no one is going to touch you.’
Hugo’s reaction reminded her of what she had told herself earlier. He was not her friend, he didn’t care about her, and she was just a commodity to him. She tried to slow her breathing and calm herself as
she reached behind and pulled down the zip on the back of her dress. She slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then quickly brought her hands up across her chest.
The photographer sniggered. ‘I don’t know what you are trying to cover, you have nothing there. Still, there’s a big market for girls like you.’
He snapped another couple of photos then told her to lower her arms. She stared down at the floor and obeyed his instruction, too embarrassed and self-conscious to make eye contact with any of the four men in the room. But even without looking, she knew they were all staring at her.
The only sound was the clicking of the smart phone camera. He held the phone vertically, then horizontally, then vertically again. He raised it high, then knelt down low. He moved to his left, then to his right, two or three clicks between each repositioning. It was surreal, standing there in just her underwear while a stranger took photos from every angle. The only people who had ever photographed her before were her family and closest friends, and always with her clothes on.
It may only have been a minute or two but seemed much longer to Katerina before the photographer mumbled, ‘That should do it.’
She glanced up to see him checking his phone’s display with a grin on his face, then he turned back to Hugo. ‘Give me a minute to send the photos and I’ll get you a price.’
Hugo glanced at Katerina. ‘You can get dressed now.’
She grabbed her dress and pulled it back on as fast as she could then huddled into the corner of the sofa thinking about the photos, who would see them, and what they would be used for. The room was quiet. She glanced up at the four men. They were no longer staring at her so she relaxed a little. Was this routine business for them? Did they normally abduct girls like her and sell them for profit? And if so, how many girls had there been before her? She had no way of knowing that, but one thing was certain, the world was now a much scarier place for her.
A few minutes later the photographer’s phone pinged. He glanced at it for a moment and muttered under his breath. ‘I need to ring them.’ He walked out of the room.
Innocent Girls Page 5