Currents of Sin

by Arleen Alleman

  “Pull over, Mick.”

  No sooner had we stopped than she yanked open the door and lurched into the backseat. She immediately lay down, presumably because she did not want to be seen.

  I turned in my seat to confront her and gasped when I saw the black and purple bruises covering her face. The sclera of each eye was full of blood, and her nose and lips were hugely swollen. Mucus mixed with blood ran from her nose in a slow narrow stream. She drew her knees up to her chest, but I could still see that she was shaking badly.

  “Oh my god, Marta, what happened to you?”

  Mick gave me an alarmed sideways glance. “What’s the matter?”

  I continued to stare at the wretched twitching mess on the backseat. “Someone worked her over. She’s covered with bruises, and she’s bleeding.” I repeated, “What happened to you?”

  She bit her bottom lip, then apparently thought better of it. She opened her mouth partway and ran her tongue around the inside. Wincing, she peered up at me in silence. The shivering intensified, and she wrapped her arms around her knees. In addition to whatever else she’d endured, I figured she was probably in need of drugs.

  “You need medical care. Mick, drive down Maryland Parkway to Sunrise Hospital where Sid is. It’s at Desert Inn, remember?”

  A few minutes later, we pulled into the emergency parking area and half carried her inside. I briefly explained that we had found her like this on the street and didn’t know anything about her. I hated to lie, but I wanted to talk with Lorraine before providing any more information.

  While the emergency department doctors began their examination, we went to visit Sid. She seemed a little more coherent than last time, but her deep sadness and frustration were obvious. She was breathing without the help of oxygen, which Brooks said was a big deal, but a wide plastic cervical collar in addition to the soft body cast looked extremely uncomfortable.

  “You look like you’re doing okay, seeing as it has only been a few days. Any idea how long you’ll be here?” Mick asked.

  Brooks sighed. He looked exhausted with dark circles under his eyes. Deep vertical lines extended down both sides of his mouth—an extraordinarily handsome man now brought low by worry and exhaustion. I wondered if he’d gotten any sleep, knowing he’d hardly left her side since the wreck.

  “They are saying maybe a week,” he answered. “If I can stay home most of the time, they’ll let her go. A home nurse can come in daily to help. She might be able to start some kind of rehab in another five weeks if her legs have healed by then. I’ll have to bring her to the orthopedic and neurologist once a week, but I think she’ll be better off at home.”

  Sid looked up at him with obvious gratitude and love. She knew how fortunate she was to have a husband who loved her so much and had all the financial resources they would need in the coming months. Even so, it would be very challenging for a nonprofessional—even a loving husband—to care for a paraplegic.

  “Thanks for coming.” She smiled weakly. “Have you heard anything about the investigation?”

  “Nothing new about the boy on the board or the car, but we’re in the middle of something related to the trafficking. It’s why we are here so early this morning.” I told them the story of Lucy and Marta.

  Brooks said, “What about the mother? Where is she?”

  “We’ve no idea. As soon as we can talk to Marta, we’ll try to find out.”

  Then I decided to tell Sid my suspicions about Athens Olympia and gave a brief rundown of my visit.

  “You actually went there? I can’t believe you did that. Well, I guess that’s not true.” She gave me a skeptical look. “I should have known you wouldn’t listen to us.”

  I ignored the last part. “Yep, and I’m telling you, something didn’t seem right with the security boss. Once we are done with this business with Marta, I’d like to go back there and talk to him again. We all think Paul orchestrated the wreck, and I’m not convinced the people at the hotel aren’t involved somehow.” I was relieved to see Brooks and Mick nodding in agreement.

  Three hours after we arrived at the hospital, Marta was ready to leave. The staff and police were able to extract only a partial explanation of her injuries—she’d been beaten up by some gang members was all she would say. She declined to provide an address for herself, saying only that she lived on the street.

  Meanwhile, I called Lorraine to explain what was happening. She said she hadn’t heard from Lucy and was worried—now even more so. She immediately came to the hospital and conferred with the authorities. Then she told us that Marta could go with her to STAY and could talk to the police again in a few days when she was more herself. None of us said anything about the abductions or our plans.

  Her injuries were superficial, but painful. She had cuts on the inside of her mouth caused by her own teeth when she was punched repeatedly in the jaw. She also had a small nose fracture, which a doctor straightened and packed with gauze to prevent bleeding.

  It was difficult for her to talk, and she was clearly suffering from withdrawal as well. The doctor wanted to keep her longer, but she’d started to panic and kept saying she wanted to leave. That was when Lorraine promised she would take responsibility for her care at the shelter.

  As we walked slowly through the parking lot supporting Marta between us, Lorraine introduced herself to the girl. She gently explained that she knew how her mother was involved along with her in the street abductions. Marta showed little interest. She was groggy from the pain medication, which had also soothed her opioid cravings.

  At the car, Lorraine turned to her again. “Marta, where is your mother? I’ve been calling her apartment all morning, and I’m worried about her.”

  As Mick was helping her into the backseat, she mumbled, “The Asians beat her too. She’s at her apartment.”

  In a halting nasal monotone with tears rolling down her cheeks, she told us how she and Lucy were abducted and interrogated.

  “They knew all about the Strip prostitution and the abductions. I thought they were going to shoot us. But they pulled us out of the car and beat us until we were out of it. I woke up in the car outside my mother’s place. She was barely conscious, and one of the men dragged her out and then came right back to the car. I guess she went inside.

  “I told them I didn’t want to stay with her, so they dropped me near the motel and drove off. I sat on the curb for a while. Then I think I laid down on the sidewalk. My face hurt so bad. After a while, I didn’t feel much better, but I sort of crawled along beside the street until I found my phone in the gutter. That’s where I dropped it when they picked me up.”

  Marta was no longer crying and seemed to have adopted a calm zoned-out attitude. The drugs had a lot to do with that.

  “Where were you when I called this morning?” I asked.

  “At the motel. I called a man I know at Athens for help. I told him I got into a fight and needed to be picked up, but he said I was on my own. So I got back to the motel somehow.”

  “What? Did you say Athens? Do you mean Athens Olympia? Is that where this other prostitution ring is?”

  I shot Mick an incredulous look. Was my gut feeling about the hotel right after all? But Paul Denezza involved in human trafficking? As crazy and mean as he was, that didn’t make any sense, especially since he was in prison. Nonetheless, I suddenly had the feeling that a lot of those puzzle pieces were about to drop into place.

  Marta simply nodded her head. She closed her eyes and stretched out on the seat, emitting a pitiful mewling sound.

  Lorraine said, “We have to get over to Lucy’s apartment right now.”

  She knew the address and we followed her. On the way, I turned around in my seat to talk with Marta, whether she liked it or not.

  “Marta, eventually, I need to know all about Athens Olympia and what is going on there. But also, the way you’ve been living?
That’s over now. You can’t go back, and those men you’re involved with are going to be arrested eventually. You’re in real danger from them and from the gang members too. Please let Lorraine and the county help you.”

  She shook her head.

  “Don’t you realize they can help you with the drugs? It isn’t too late for you to start over.”

  She stared at me wide-eyed for a moment, then closed her eyes. Swallowing painfully, she croaked, “Nothing can help me now.” She curled into a ball and wept.

  55

  When we arrived at Lucy’s apartment, Marta stayed in the car while we went to check on her mother. The area in front of the building, including the pool deck, was deserted. The white stucco building was old but appeared well maintained for low-end housing. Lorraine knocked on Lucy’s door several times, then began calling her name.

  Glancing around the area in front of the door, I noticed a strap extending out from under the thick shrubbery.

  “What’s this?” I bent down and pulled out a handbag.

  “That’s Lucy’s,” Lorraine said, taking it from me.

  When there was no response to knocking and calling her name, Mick banged with his fist and announced it was the police and to please open up. Still nothing. Lorraine gave me a look that I read perfectly. Lucy might well be incapacitated in there. Mick turned the doorknob. It wasn’t locked.

  “Let me go in first,” he said. “You two stay here.”

  I didn’t like that idea, but I agreed.

  He pushed the door wide open and stepped inside. Lorraine and I stuck our heads in and peered around the living room. We couldn’t see much. The blackout shades were drawn, and the only light was a band extending across the room from the open door.

  Almost immediately, Mick yelled, “Call an ambulance!”

  Lorraine pulled out her phone and dialed 911 as we rushed inside. The apartment was a tiny two-bedroom unit with one of the smallest kitchens I’d ever seen. An ancient couch and TV were the only furnishings other than a rickety wood dining table and chairs. Everything about it was depressing. I began to get a better picture of Lucy’s existence and thought maybe she deserved a little slack.

  In the larger of the two bedrooms, Mick was bent over the bed and Lucy’s inert body. Lorraine gave the operator the address and then rushed forward. “Is she alive?” She gasped and turned away. “Oh my god. Look what they did to her. Oh, poor Lucy.”

  I stepped up behind Mick and peered over his shoulder. He was gently brushing the hair away from Lucy’s face with one hand while feeling for a pulse with the other.

  I wouldn’t have known who she was. Her face was swollen to nearly twice its normal size and totally black and purple. She was lying on her back with her right arm angled out over the side of the bed. As soon as I saw it, I had to look away. The arm was bent in sickening unnatural angles below the elbow, obviously broken in at least two places. Who knew what other injuries she might have sustained.

  Lorraine was shaking her head. She looked up at me with tears streaming. “Is she alive?” she asked again.

  “Yes, but barely, I’m afraid.”

  “I thought Marta was bad,” she said. “But it looks like they meant to kill Lucy.”

  Mick pulled a quilt up from the foot of the bed and covered her.

  “They still might. I can’t believe they even brought her home. They could have dumped her in the desert.”

  Just then, we heard the sirens, and Lorraine rushed outside to direct the EMTs. Minutes later, the medics were working to get her stabilized for transport to the hospital. Lorraine began searching through Lucy’s purse.

  “They’ll need her license and Medicaid ID,” she explained, opening a wallet and extracting the cards.

  After she handed them to one of the medics, we made the difficult decision not to follow the ambulance to the hospital. There would be nothing we could do for Lucy, and we needed to tend to Marta.

  56

  Mick carried Marta into the STAY office so Lorraine could get her settled there. Then he and I paid a quick visit to Tina and Banu. They seemed to be doing well and shared with us the welcome news that they’d both agreed to begin GED classes. Banu told us proudly that she was already enrolled in an ESL class and couldn’t wait to begin.

  Tina thanked me for everything Tom and I did to help them. She gestured toward Banu. “I don’t know what would have happened to her if it wasn’t for you. I was so stupid.”

  “Tina, the only thing that matters now is that you keep moving forward in a positive way. I told you before that I have great confidence that you will eventually have a good productive life. Both of you,” I said, turning to Banu.

  “I can tell Tom cares a lot about you, and he really will come back to visit. He’s going to be very happy to hear how well you’re getting along already.”

  She beamed up at me and turned to Tina. “See? I know he keep promise.”

  When we arrived back at the office, Marta was lying under a blanket elevated on a bed pillow against the arm of the couch. She held an ice pack to her face with one hand and a water glass in the other. She sipped through a straw, wincing, then put the glass down on the coffee table and began to shake. Lorraine fetched two blankets and covered her.

  “She’s in withdrawal,” Lorraine said. “Probably should be at the hospital, but I’ve dealt with this before. I can handle it.”

  It certainly wasn’t the best time to talk to her, but we’d already arranged a sting of sorts with Metro for later in the evening, and we wanted to go through with it. I sat on a chair next to her and gently explained why I called her to begin with. It seemed like an eon ago rather than five hours.

  At first, she would not respond. The shivering subsided somewhat, and she closed her eyes. I thought she might have fallen asleep, but when Lorraine spoke to her, she opened them wide.

  “Marta, don’t you understand that these two are going way out of their way to help you? They have an agreement with the police that you won’t be prosecuted if you help them. I’ve been given permission to take care of you here. Otherwise, you would be in jail. Snap out of it, girl. You’re out of options.”

  The drugs continued to alleviate some of Marta’s craving, and she gradually came around. Straightening her shoulders, she peered around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

  “So this is STAY? I’ve never been here before.”

  Suddenly, she seemed to orient herself. Her eyes swung back to us. “Did you find my mother? How is she?”

  Lorraine picked up Marta’s hand. “She’s in the hospital. It’s good that you told us what happened to you both because she was in worse shape than you. We’ll call in a little while to see how she’s doing—after you talk to Darcy, that is.”

  When Marta looked at me again, I thought her eyes seemed a little clearer and more focused. Lowering them to her lap, she picked at some fuzz on the blanket.

  “What do you want from me?”

  I hoped she was listening as I laid out the plan. With a little repetition and a lot of coaxing, she finally agreed to participate. The first step was for her to call her Strip contact. In a pathetic, but thankfully coherent, voice, she pleaded with him to let her come home to the hotel. Then she told him she’d met a beautiful blonde that would be perfect for their stable. Obviously, this girl was an expert at lying convincingly.

  She told him, “This girl is new to the Green Door, and I told her about the deli. She’s going there for dinner with another girl. Please let me help. I’ll call my mother and have her go over there for you like always. Please?”

  He finally gave her the go ahead, saying she could call Lucy to set up the abduction. Then he demanded she meet him to return to Athens Olympia. She promised she would, and I could only imagine what his reaction would be when she didn’t show up at the designated spot.

  57

  �
�Where the hell is he?” Nate looked around at the four security staff members crammed into his office. “Somebody must know something, damn it. Get down there and find him.”

  Chuck pushed himself away from the wall. He was wishing the meeting in the cramped, stifling space would end. He had to get his point across and prevent any more exposure. He and the others who were part of Nate’s operation were getting very nervous.

  “Boss,” he said, “we’ve sent people down to the motel twice. He’s nowhere around, and if we hang there too much, those Asian assholes are going to get suspicious. Maybe we need to lay low for a bit. You know, wait and see what happens?”

  Nate didn’t like it, but he knew Chuck was right. It was futile to continue searching. Finally, he allowed himself to face the obvious. Horus must have been turned and was probably dead. The question was how much information did he give up about their operation?

  “Yeah, fine. Forget it. If he’s alive, we’ll hear eventually. Keep a lookout in the casino for gang members. If he gave us up, they’ll be coming to take the whores back.”

  Up until his death, the pimp, Shimmer, had been on Nate’s payroll. As a sort of double agent, his job was to infiltrate the downtown gang operation and funnel girls to the Strip for Mirabelle’s stable. It was a beautiful plan. The gang found the street kids and groomed them a little before Nate’s men snatched the most attractive ones off the street.

  The Strip operation was small, with only five or six prostitutes in residence at any one time. So he only stole from the Asians occasionally without warning, picking off the most attractive girls. So far, the Asians didn’t know anything about Nate’s little game. They assumed the missing girls had run away or put themselves into the system.

  Unfortunately, Shimmer compromised himself and had to be eliminated. Nate couldn’t believe that Farthing and the ex-cop actually confronted the pimp. It was stupid for Shimmer to engage in a conversation with them and even more stupid for him to admit that he’d done it.