by Carter Blake
Chapter 7
Janus
There isn’t much to go on here. So much of this is circumstantial, but it’s still worth checking out.
While I believe her when she says the cops are dirty, that doesn’t mean I’m just going to drop everything on a dime to help her.
If I’m going to jump in and take a look at this supremely dicey shit show, I need concrete proof. Otherwise, I’m gone.
It’s very early, the sun only just coming up as I mull this over. I’ve got a room at the same hotel, not only for convenience sake, but for the decent coffee.
I’ve already made an official ID for myself so that I can get into police stations and snoop around a bit. It’s a pretty easy task—one I’ve done hundreds of times before—but I know from personal experience that this can all go sideways at a moment’s notice.
These guys are heavy hitters and have a lot to lose. If there are cops on their payroll, I have to be doubly careful.
It’s nearing nine in the morning as I get dressed in a rather boring and plain brown suit. The cut is particularly cheap—got to look the part after all.
I take a cab to the station and introduce myself at the desk, taking out my fake badge. The smile I give the clerk is just as fake.
“Élenchos prosopikoú,” I say with my perfect Greek accent and a roll of my eyes.
He looks down at my papers, likely wondering why someone is there so early for a personnel audit.
The guy seems satisfied and waves me on through with a polite nod.
“Pigaínete epáno. Óla ta archeía eínai ekeí páno. O epitheoritís Tadashi sas periménei.”
Go ahead upstairs. All the files are up there. Inspector Tadashi is expecting you.
Sounds simple enough.
I thank the man and head up the polished wooden stairs he directed me to.
I take a moment to soak in the architecture of the building. I really do love the old buildings in most of the foreign cities. Maybe it’s due to my upbringing—if you want to call what I had an upbringing at all—but I’ve always found that there’s something romantic about old buildings.
As I climb the stairs, I think about all the sexy, provocative agents I could have pretended to be. It’s what they do in all the movies.
Trouble is, those guys get noticed. And I operate in a world where discretion is truly the better part of valor.
A personnel audit—no one is even going to notice. It’s boring and simple. It gives me access to the files of every single cop on the premises—and that’s where all the dirt is.
As I hit the top of the stairs, I see a large man with quick hands nearby. He’s speaking rapidly in Greek to a few younger guys. He lowers his voice as I approach, an effort to keep me from hearing what he’s saying, but I do of course.
“Vgeíte sto télos tis pólis kai ascholeíste me aftó to cháos. Tha prépei na meíno edó kai na ascholithó me aftó to éntomo.”
Head out to the end of town and deal with that mess. I’m going to have to stay here and deal with this insect.
The inflection he puts on the word makes it especially insulting, like a shit eater or blood sucker. I smile warmly as I approach.
I hold out my hand and walk up to him with short, quick steps. I make sure to slouch a little and fidget.
“Geia sas, epitheoritís Tadashi. Kaló na sas gnoríso, kýrie. Tha chreiasteí móno mia matiá sta vivlía sas símera. Aplá peíte mou poú na páo kai tha páro ta malliá sas. Den thélo na patíso ta dáchtyla ton podión sas í na kolýso típota.”
Hello Inspector Tadashi. Good to meet you, sir. I’ll just need to look over your books today. Just point me where to go, and I’ll get out of your hair. I don’t want to step on your toes or get in the way of anything.
I offer my hand, grinning at him as I do.
I want him to fuck off, to assume I’m a harmless twit.
He grunts at me and doesn’t bother to shake my hand. It’s just the response I want.
Tadashi is exactly what you’d expect from a middle-aged detective. He’s got the salt and pepper hair, the five o’clock shadow that may well be permanent, and a hard gaze that tells you he’s seen it all.
“Boró na rotíso giatí erevnoúme?”
May I ask why we are being investigated?
He tries to sound nonchalant, but there’s a hint of concern in his voice. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if he’s one of the cops included in the payroll of the traffickers.
“Akrivós diadikasía. Prépei na vevaiothoúme óti échoun katatetheí sostá óla ta iatriká pistopoiitiká kai oi ekthéseis symvánton.”
Just procedure. Need to make sure we have all the medical certificates and incident reports filed correctly.
He nods slowly, seemingly satisfied with my answer.
We’ve almost gotten to the records room, when an officer calls him from down the hall behind us.
The grizzled detective tells me to go ahead, that he’ll come by to check on me shortly.
That’s good enough for me, and I continue down to records.
I spend the next few hours reading personnel files and incident reports. Something fishy is definitely going on.
A few months ago, a handful of the city’s top cops started checking out the status of the refugees and complaints of kidnapping and murder in the area. Then, it suddenly dries up and there’s no further mention of any such incidents in the reports. The two lead detectives then, a Sergeant Bazyli and a Sergeant Hadwin, seem to have conflicting reports on the severity of the events.
Later reports then told me that Bazyli was shot and killed in a robbery, while Hadwin was promoted to head of operations for that district of the city.
I look closer and find that months before the incident, Hadwin got in trouble. He had been constantly taking loans against his pay and had other financial problems. About a month after he started investigating the refugees, reports of his money troubles stopped.
“What else are you hiding from me, Hadwin?” I mutter to myself as I click open a couple of more files.
I start organizing the files and get ready to download everything to a flash drive that Dani gave me. With these records, she’ll have the evidence she needs to prove there’s corruption among the local authorities.
However, this news makes the situation twice as dangerous, as it confirms her suspicions. If shit hits the fan here, it means that the cops won’t be coming to save us. They’ll be there to make sure we disappear.
I pull the small storage device from my pocket just as the door opens and reveals a rather displeased Inspected Tadashi.
“Échoume éna próvlima.”
We got a problem.
Well, this isn’t good.
Before I can ask what the problem is, he demands to see my papers.
I pull out my fake badge and official document stating my position and rights. Tadashi looks it over slowly.
I know I’m good. He’ll never see it’s a fake from just looking at it.
“Ta éngrafá sas faínontai entáxei. Ostóso, mílisa me to esoterikó symvoúlio prin apó líga leptá. Den échoume programmatisteí gia élencho. Den échoun kanéna archeío na stélnoun kanénan edó.”
Your papers appear to be in order. However, I spoke to the internal board a few moments ago. We aren’t scheduled for an audit. They have no record of sending anyone here.
That’s a bit of a damned inconvenience, but it’s not something I wasn’t ready for.
I allow my face to fall apart in six different ways of shock and surprise.
“Nai, skéftika óti aftó tha symveí. I epexergasía eíche éna logismikó kathystérisis símera to proí. Oi ergasíes chartioú den échoun piasteí. Lypámai polý. Sas léo ti, aplá epitrépste mou na katefthynthó gia énan kapnó kai épeita tha értho kai tha káno merikés klíseis. Boreíte na milísete me ton proïstámenó mou kai tha taktopoiísoume aftó to cháos.”
Yes, I thought this might happen. Processing had a software lag this morning. P
aper work hasn’t caught up. I’m so sorry. Tell you what, just let me head out for a smoke and then I’ll come in and make a few calls. You can talk to my boss and we’ll sort this mess out.
Slowly, he hands my papers back. I know he’s torn between keeping me here no matter what, and the idea that I’m a harmless insect who’s not worth his time. He can’t conceive of the fact someone would appear this socially inept and awkward on purpose.
He lets me go but not before demanding I be in his office after ten minutes.
I nod frantically in agreement and leave the room.
I’m pissed that I wasn’t able to get my hands on the files for Dani, but I trust that she’ll be pleased to know that she’s right.
Just because she doesn’t have the concrete proof now doesn’t mean we won’t get our hands on it. It’s just going to take a bit longer than expected is all.
In the meantime, I’ve got to bail.
Chapter 8
Danielle
I’m starting to get pretty damn anxious.
He told me after dinner last night that he was going to look into things, but he didn’t exactly say when.
And then I wake up this morning with a note under my door, telling me that he has already begun his own little investigation into my investigation.
I get that what he’s doing is dangerous and can take some time, but it’s been several hours since I’ve read his note, and he’s still has not returned.
Part of me thinks that maybe he already got was he was looking for and just skipped out, but when I think of the look in his eyes when he saw my photos, I dismiss the idea.
Janus is invested, I’m sure of it. Otherwise, he would’ve just left last night and left that flash drive I gave him.
I keep myself busy writing and organizing photos, but every minute feels like an hour. And then I’m on my feet, pacing back and forth in front of my desk, watching the seconds on the laptop’s clock tick by.
Where the fuck is he? Is he even safe?
That last question lingers in my mind. Do I care about him—or rather, still care about him?
I stop pacing and look out the window to the hotel’s pool below.
The realization that there may actually be lingering feelings unnerves me.
This isn’t a story that I can let my personal feelings get in the way of—well, romantic feelings anyway.
But what if this is fate’s way of giving us a second chance?
My thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. I hurry over and throw open the door like a mad woman.
“Where the hell have you been?”
I can’t help it; my mouth just gets ahead of my brain. I’m too frustrated to play nice.
“Hello to you, too. I’ve had a lovely day, how was yours?”
“Sorry.” I sigh. “Do you want a drink?”
He nods as he comes inside. He’s wearing a vile brown suit, which is not his usual style at all, and his hair looks like it was done by a woman trying to get her son ready for picture day—in the seventies.
I fix a couple of drinks as he peels off the unfitted brown suit jacket.
“So, how did it go? What did you find out?”
I know I’m snapping a little. I really don’t mean to. There’s an extra edge to my frustration—and I’m willing to admit to myself it’s because I’m wickedly attracted to him. I can’t seem to think straight when he’s in the room.
He tosses the jacket on the couch and grabs his drink from me. “I did some digging at the police station today. And you’re right. They’re being paid off, but I couldn’t get anything down on that flash drive you handed me.”
“What? Why? Damn it, Janus!”
He laughs at me softly.
At first, I was angry at him for thinking this is some kind of laughing matter—because it’s not—but then, I’m enchanted by the way his mouth turns upward into that smile of his and brightens his eyes.
I find myself smiling back with real warmth, even when I want to be angry.
“What are you laughing at, anyway?”
“You. This. I guess I just forgot how worked up you can get when the slightest kink gets tossed your way.”
“Well, I’d call this more than a slight kink.”
“No, Dani. You see, I may not have gotten the information you needed. But now, you have something better.”
His voice is almost musical, and I can’t help but eye him suspiciously.
“What did I get then?”
“Me, Dani. Me. Well, to help your story anyway.”
Our eyes meet in a lingering gaze that lasts for at least six Mississippi’s.
We’re right back in that comfort zone, sizing each other up and paying attention to all the tiny details of one another.
“So, what did you find out?” I ask as I take a seat at my desk.
“There’s a handful of cops on the payroll. One cop was taken out, likely because he wouldn’t play ball, and it was made to look like a botched robbery. From what I could see, it goes beyond just the cops. I’m willing to bet there are more than a handful of politicians in on it, too.”
“Fuck!”
I down the rest of my drink in one go. I really want that Intel now.
“But, at least now, you know that you’re a hundred percent correct about the corruption. And that’s more than we knew last night.”
He’s right, of course. I’m just very disappointed, though I’m grateful to him for checking things out.
“I’m sorry. This is just very frustrating to me. I didn’t expect you to come here and wave a magic wand, but I’ve been working on this for a while now, and I can see the situation is escalating. I was hoping that you might have gotten some evidence we could use to crack this thing wide open.”
I let a heavy sigh slip past my lips as I look up at him, letting our eyes lock together.
He holds his drink near his mouth, smiling more with his eyes than his lips. He’s looking at me very intently.
His gaze feels empowering. I feel that very real smile sneaking back across my mouth.
“I’m very grateful for what you did. It was a considerable risk, and you took it for me with very little to go on. Thank you for believing in me enough to check it out.”
“No problem. I just need to figure out what our next steps will be, after I get out of this horrendous suit and—”
“I knew that suit couldn’t be yours,” I interrupt with a laugh.
He looks down, smiling in amusement as he adjusts the collar. “Had to dress to the part. Don’t hold it against me.”
I find myself running my finger against the rim of my glass and watching his fingers move along the cheap fabric of the suit. Which leads me to thinking about the suit coming off and what’s underneath it.
“So, what’s next? I mean, after you get changed, obviously.”
“I’m not sure. You can finish up here as soon as you like. I can take care of this.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He downs his drink and sets the empty glass on the table. “I mean, you are in way over your head. You need to back off now before you get hurt.”
“Are you serious, Janus? You just said that I had you on my side.”
“I’m completely serious. And I am on your side. You’ve done some good work here, Dani. This thing is big, and it’s going to get ridiculously dangerous around here soon. That’s why I’d feel a lot better if I knew you were somewhere else. So, when I said you had me, I meant you had me here to get you out in one piece.”
I cross my arms, smiling. It’s not a flirtatious smile. No, far from it.
This is the smile I wear with my editor. It says, Eat shit and die if you don’t like what I’m saying.
“You realize I have a personal interest in this case now? I can’t just walk away.”
“I understand you feel that way, but…”
“But what? Come on, you have to do a lot better than that. Who do you think I am?”
“I do
n’t know,” he runs his hand through his hair, exasperated. “I’m sure I have no fucking clue.”
“You do recall that I’m an investigative journalist who has been in plenty of dangerous situations before, right?”
“I get that, but I think this might be beyond your…”
“Look. I don’t have to listen to this. Thank you for helping me out today. Seriously, I appreciate it. But I’m not going anywhere. I didn’t call you in here so you could tell me what to do.”
“I get that, Dani. But this ends one of two ways: you in a body bag, or you being turned into one of the people you’re trying to save.”
I stare him down steadily, with icy calm. “May I remind you I did perfectly fine in South Sudan without you?”
His face falls. Just slightly, but I see it.
Excellent.
I’ve reminded him of a previous situation where he told me this exact same thing, and how that turned out for him. He looks away, then back again. He’s composed now, but I can tell I made him think, just a bit.
“I thank you for your concern. Truly. But I did fine in South Sudan. I’ll do just fine here, too.”
He doesn’t argue, even though I can tell he wants to.
Maybe we really should just fuck instead.
Chapter 9
Janus
No way. Absolutely no fucking way.
I won’t have this conversation with Danielle again.
I swear this woman actively looks for danger above and beyond that’s expected for her job.
I wasn’t going to argue this with her—but fuck it.
“Tell me, Dani, do you have a death wish?” I inquire off-handedly.
She gives me a deadpan stare, knowing full well where I’m going with my line of questioning.
“You know I’m serious about this, Janus. I’m completely okay with putting my life on the line for the victims of this trafficking ring.” She pauses. “I was hoping you’d be a decent enough person to feel the same way.”
I pretend to flinch in response to her jibe.
“That stings, Robinson. Did you come up with that kind of emotional manipulation all on your own, or is it part of your training as a journalist?”