Broken Dolls

by Sarah Flint

  Suddenly she was running. The snow stung her face as she sprinted on, wetting her hair and freezing the tips of her fingers, but she couldn’t stop now. As she ran, she knew without doubt that the forensic results on the van, when they arrived, would show that she was right and that the baby’s mother had been transported in it. Something had spooked Dimitri into moving that fateful night when they’d watched his van coming and going from the Streatham brothel… and now she knew exactly what.

  Chapter 43

  The area between Streatham High Road and Balham High Road took in residential gardens, two school fields, half a dozen churchyards and the whole of Tooting Bec Common. A body could be hidden in any one of those places, but Charlie had no reservations. With his limited timescale and the prospect of being spotted, there was no question in her mind that the darkness and invisibility of the common would have made it Dimitri’s location of choice.

  Four dog units were quickly assembled, each taking a quarter of the common, their brief to concentrate mainly on the wooded areas and train lines criss-crossing the area. The electricity would be cut and the trains held stationary at the nearest stations for the duration of the search, but the railway embankments would still be cold, inaccessible and dangerous. There could be no postponing the moment though. It had to be done.

  Charlie, Paul and Hunter waited nervously in a heated police car at the rendezvous point, conscious of the freezing conditions outside. In Charlie’s mind, it would only be a matter of time before they would be trudging across a snow-covered field to witness a sight she had for so long dreaded.

  The call came exactly thirty-six minutes later.

  ‘Body found.’

  The three of them climbed out of the car in silence, pulling winter coats and scarves tight around their warm bodies. They followed the directions given, across the grass, over a gap in the fence and along the side of the track, to a disused railway shed. The dog handler was waiting to one side, his German Shepherd playing happily with his reward for a job well done.

  The handler passed Charlie a small maroon book sealed within an exhibits bag. The book was open and on its cover the word ‘Diary’ was embossed in gold lettering. At the top of the first page, the name Tatjana Pipenko was written by hand in ink, the writing perfectly formed and upright, with a smiley face added within its last letter.

  ‘It was lying on the ground in front of the body with a few other personal belongings,’ the officer said, shining a flashlight into the gloomy outbuilding to where a tarpaulin lay partially unravelled on the filthy concrete floor. The end of the cover was torn away, probably by a fox or other wild animal, revealing a single leg, sticking out from a large body-sized package, its bare foot stiff and white.

  Charlie pulled her scarf up over her hair, blocking out the silent screaming in her head, counting each lifeless frozen toe. Her eyes moved along the roll, focussing on the thick fake fur cream rug in which the body of Tatjana Pipenko was wrapped, recognising it as one she’d seen several times before…

  It was the same style rug she’d walked across so recently in the brothels of Streatham and Lewisham.

  *

  Hanna was still saying nothing when Charlie returned to The Haven. Charlie stamped her feet and rubbed her hands together as she entered, wishing she could remove the image of the girl’s dead body from her memory as easily as the dirt and snow fell from her boots. Maybe a description of what she had just seen would prompt the girl to talk. It might also, however, confirm to her the danger of speaking out, but she had to try.

  ‘Hanna,’ she sat down beside the girl, taking the place of her colleague, ‘was there a girl who left your house in Streatham recently?’

  The interpreter repeated the question.

  Hanna looked past her, staring out of the window.

  ‘Please, Hanna. We’ve just found a girl who we think lived with you.’

  Hanna’s expression changed momentarily but she said nothing.

  ‘We think her name was Tatjana.’

  ‘You found Tatjana?’ Hanna turned towards her, smiling suddenly. ‘Is she all right?’

  Charlie hesitated in her answer. She’d thought Hanna would know; that this was the reason for her fears, for all their collective silence.

  Hanna was staring directly at her. Before Charlie could think of the words, the girl turned away, burying her head in her hands, her eyes filling with tears.

  ‘You said was. We think her name was Tatjana.’ She waved her hand towards the interpreter in dismissal. ‘I know exactly what you mean. I had feared what you are saying, but I had still hoped.’ Her face hardened as she spoke. She wiped her sleeve against her cheeks angrily, drying the tears, her eyes now becoming steely. ‘All the time I believed Dimitri’s promise, I knew I could not talk. None of us could. He fed us and kept clothes on our backs and even though we did not like what we had to do, we accepted it. This has changed things.’

  She turned to face Charlie again, her expression set. ‘You said we could talk to you safely, but tell us how this can be done? Dimitri knows everything about us, and our families. There is no guarantee he will not escape justice as he has done so many times before and come after us.’

  ‘He will only escape justice if you keep quiet,’ Charlie met Hanna’s eyes. Gaining her trust was the only way she could get justice for the tiny baby and now her mother, but she would not make promises she could not keep. ‘We need you to tell us who is in charge of the brothels, what you have been made to do, how you have been treated, the threats you have received and how you were brought into the country. We need to know everything. If it is Dimitri who has done this to you, then we can get him convicted of human trafficking for the purposes of sexual exploitation and other serious offences of that nature and we can ensure he is sent to prison for many years.’

  Hanna pulled her gaze away, frowning and shaking her head. ‘It still might not be enough. I have seen other men in this trade walk free after just a short time, only to hunt the girls down who betrayed them.’

  She turned away, her shoulders slumping. Charlie felt the opportunity slipping away.

  ‘You said things had changed when I mentioned Tatjana. That Dimitri had broken a promise. What promise was that, Hanna?’

  ‘He promised that she had been taken to a hospital for treatment. He said that she would be all right and that she was to go back to her home country… but she still died.’

  ‘Tatjana was never taken to a hospital. He might have told you that, but he lied.’ Charlie spoke softly. ‘I have come from where her body was found, just now. There were personal items with Tatjana’s name nearby.’ Charlie had brought with her the bag containing Tatjana’s diary. Although still sealed, she had been able to open the book and read some of the entries. The last few pages were written in English, as if its author wanted her final thoughts easily recognised. ‘These are the last words your friend wrote.’ She lifted the diary to the light and read. ‘Please help me. Dimitri has killed my baby and now he is killing me. Tell my mother I didn’t know to what I was coming. Tell her I love her. Please tell her…’ The last word was written across two pages, the handwriting shaky, the last letter trailing off across the edge of the page. Charlie turned it towards Hanna so she could read the word.

  ‘Goodbye,’ Hanna whispered, her voice faltering.

  Charlie pressed on, her own voice equally unsteady. She couldn’t let this chance slip through her fingers. ‘Tatjana was wrapped in the same style sheepskin rug as you all have, inside a tarpaulin and dumped in a freezing outhouse at the side of a railway line near to your house in Streatham.’ She watched as the girl’s shoulders slumped still further and her hand came up to her mouth. ‘A few days before, the body of a baby girl was found, thrown out with the rubbish. She looked as fragile as a tiny broken doll. I have been searching for the baby’s mother ever since and I believe it will be proved to be Tatjana. We contacted every hospital, every council, every possible place, that her mother might have sought assistanc
e, but to no avail. Nobody had seen her. Nobody could help us.’

  She turned to Hanna and took hold of her arm gently. ‘Hanna, Dimitri didn’t care about Tatjana or her baby. He treated them as human refuse. He threw them away with the rubbish… and if you or any of the others know anything about what happened, then you can help. We can’t use Tatjana’s diary because she is dead and her words are inadmissible, but we could use yours. If we have the evidence to get him charged with the manslaughter, or even the murder, of Tatjana and her baby, then we can ensure he is locked up for life and will never again harm you, or your families or any other young girl. If you won’t do it for me, Hanna, then please do it for Tatjana.’

  Hanna stood up silently, walking towards the window. For what seemed a lifetime, she stared through the glass, as large flakes continued to fall from the skies, coating the branches of the trees and the roofs of the houses in a layer of pure white snow. Charlie waited, watching as a myriad of different emotions passed across the girl’s face, before she finally straightened, her shoulders lifting.

  ‘Tell me what I must do,’ she said, strongly and evenly. ‘I owe it to Tatjana.’

  *

  Hanna’s voice grew more passionate with every phrase. It was as if now the decision had been made, every sentence gave her the impetus to continue. She spoke first about how she and the other girls had been duped into travelling to London, on the promise of work and a new life.

  ‘You think any of us would have come, had we known?’ Hanna looked stricken as she turned the question on Charlie. ‘Our families would be shamed if they knew what we had to do for the small amount of cash that Dimitri permitted us to send to them.’ She shook her head forcefully and walked across to the window, staring out across the skyscape of London. ‘Dimitri organised everything for us; our food, our clothing, our lives. He knew all our families… and we knew what he would do if we disobeyed. He had his contacts in our countries, of course, but it was he that forced us to do what we did, and it was he that we all believed would carry out his threats.’

  She didn’t wait for Charlie to pass comment. Instead she continued, the volume of her speech rising with each word she spoke. ‘Dimitri is evil. He raped me as soon as I arrived in London and since then he has made me do things that I could never have imagined in my worst nightmares.’ She closed her eyes, blinking away the tears, her voice now simmering with anger. ‘He has allowed men to use me for their sick pleasures. He has made me submit to them, even when my body ached with pain and my head screamed to be allowed to return home. I have been bruised and beaten, and Dimitri has allowed it all to happen.’

  She pulled up her sleeves and the hem of her skirt to show Charlie scarring across her wrists and thighs and the remains of a burn mark dragged across her stomach. ‘Albertas was supposed to protect us, but by the time he stepped in, the worst of it had already happened.’ She pulled her clothing back in place and sat down, hugging her arms around her body. ‘And then he took his turn also.’

  Charlie waited silently for Hanna to speak again, not wanting to interrupt the outpouring of anger and grief, or the steady flow of information, allowing Hanna to dictate when she next spoke and on what subject she wished to dwell. She was skimming over the notes, when the silence was broken by the sound of Hanna quietly sobbing, her hand held tightly across her mouth to try to stem the noise.

  ‘I should have done more to help Tatjana,’ Hanna could barely say the words, the strength of her previous statements having leeched away, replaced instead with little more than a whisper.

  Charlie looked across at the girl, Hanna’s raw emotion taking her breath away.

  ‘I was allowed to roam around the house freely,’ Hanna continued. ‘As the oldest there, Dimitri wanted me to talk to the younger girls, encourage them.’ She lapsed into silence again. ‘That room, at the top of the house, where Tatjana was put…’ She sobbed again. ‘I saw what happened. I saw everything.’

  Hanna hugged her body even tighter but lifted her chin to speak, allowing the tears to fall unabated. ‘I was standing just outside the room when Dimitri found out about Tatjana’s baby. I heard his anger when he saw how her belly had grown and realised that he had been deceived. He would never have brought her to London if he had known she was pregnant.’ She paused, turning towards Charlie. ‘It was morning and light outside, but in the room the curtains were still drawn. Tatjana didn’t want to get up. She felt sick. Dimitri was in a rage. He pulled the curtains open, but Tatjana still wouldn’t move, so he pulled the covers off her bed. It was then that he realised.’

  Hanna was staring past Charlie now, her eyes vacant. ‘Dimitri stamped on her. He was shouting abuse, calling her a whore and a liar. He stamped on her and as he did so he shouted that he wanted the baby dead… and gone. I should have stopped him.’

  Charlie listened horrified, automatically reaching out and putting her hand on Hanna’s arm. Nothing had prepared her for the starkness of the description and as she watched Hanna’s pupils glaze over, she realised that nothing could ever have prepared the young girl sitting next to her now for what she had seen.

  Hanna stopped crying. ‘Later that evening, Tatjana went into labour. I will always remember her screams and the way Dimitri tried to silence her.’ Charlie felt herself drawn into the room as Hanna spoke, recalling the bed, the blood, the smells of disinfectant. ‘Dimitri wrapped Tatjana’s baby girl up in a pink towel and shoved her tiny body into a bright orange carrier bag. He was laughing as she sobbed. He wouldn’t let her hold her baby, he wouldn’t let her even touch it. He took it away from her that night.’

  Hanna stood suddenly, pulling away. ‘He killed Tatjana that night, as surely as he killed her baby. There was no one else involved. She never recovered after that. I tried to persuade him to get help or take her to hospital. I could see my friend was getting weaker. He promised he would. Later on, he promised that he had, but she disappeared the night we went to the new house. I never saw her again. I knew he had lied, but I didn’t want to believe it, until you told me… and I saw my friend’s own words.’

  ‘Now, I know what I must do and I will do it. And I must also seek out Tatjana’s mother and tell her the truth.’ Hanna spun around suddenly towards Charlie, taking both her hands in her own, her face passionate. Charlie was amazed at the potency of her grip and the intensity of her newly-found strength. Given the promise of justice, she had now embraced the power to succeed. ‘And you must allow me to tell the other girls to speak out about what they too have seen. Dimitri must be stopped. He cannot go on taking young girls’ lives.’

  Charlie listened to Hanna’s words, her thoughts now turning to Redz, another young girl whose life had been taken. Razor was due to return on bail the following morning. She watched the strength flowing back into every part of Hanna’s body, and as she marvelled at the transformation, Charlie hoped that she too would understand what was required to achieve justice… and be gifted with the power to succeed.

  Chapter 44

  Charlie was in extra early the next morning. With all the ongoing developments in the trafficking case over the past few days, she hadn’t had time to really bottom out the information from Angie in relation to Redz having been killed by a punter. Although Razor ticked all the boxes, the possibility they had jumped to the wrong conclusion was bothering her. A few more background checks were required.

  Hunter, knowing Razor of old, was convinced he was their man and the rest of the team clearly acquiesced, but as was often the case, she had an itch that needed to be scratched. She fired up the computer logging on to the Crimint system. Criminal Intelligence from another borough was what might prove, or disprove, the existence of a predatory punter. Charlie selected those boroughs with red-light areas initially, carefully choosing a search thread and waiting as the system scanned every piece of intelligence entered over the last year. The results churned in and she watched in dismay as dozens of results started to appear. There were far too many to check each individually. She n
eeded more detail – a name, a registration number, anything to distinguish one suspect from another. She clicked on a few results, scanning through the reports, but nothing stood out.

  Concentrating only on those that flashed red for danger, she clicked on a few more, reading details on almost every report of the violence shown towards sex workers on the street. To Charlie it made the widely-held belief of many observers that somehow women choose prostitution as a credible occupation, laughable. Walking the streets was not a choice, as far as she was concerned, it was a necessity and one that brought with it the risk of death, or serious injury.

  She was about to give up when she noticed a report entitled, ‘Prostitute assaulted – believed serial attacker’. Pulling it up on the screen, she read the details.

  Information given by anonymous sex workers in the King’s Cross area state that there have been a number of violent attacks on prostitutes over the last six months. The description of the suspect involved is a male, Asian, over 6ft tall, large build, wearing distinctive chunky jewellery. The male is sometimes on foot and sometimes in a small dark car – no further details known.

  She re-read the report, noting the similarities with the description given by Angie of Redz’ attacker and turning on to the next page dealing with the action taken. The informant was anonymous, although shown as being a victim/witness. Reading between the lines, she guessed it would be a prostitute, who was happy to pass the description on but not to have it recorded formally as a crime. The description had been circulated to all vice units, for the purpose of warning other sex workers, and the report marked up finally as complete.