Diamond Lilly

by Henriette Daulton

“Oh, no way Jose. We’re still going ahead. I just won’t tell Art. Right now I have to work on the Russians. So maybe in a couple of days?” she suggested.

  He hesitated.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I was hoping to see you before then.”

  She smiled broadly. “Okay, well, let’s see how it goes tomorrow. I promise I’ll call you back.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  A bird tweeting persistently brought her out of a deep sleep. Her mind still in a fog, she groped the top of the nightstand for the phone. “Hello?”

  Silence greeted her, followed by shallow breathing. Irritated, Jessie was ready to hang up when there was a whisper. “Jessie Milner?”

  The accent sounded vaguely familiar.

  “This is Jessie, who is this?”

  “Irina, from the club. You remember?”

  Jessie’s heart skipped a beat. She sat up straight, recalling a set of dark frightened eyes. She glanced at the clock; it was ten after one.

  “Of course, Irina. Yes, I remember you. Are you all right?”

  “You say you help me. It is true?”

  “Yes, I meant it. What can I do for you?” Jessie asked.

  “Four o’clock, the bus come to Doll House and take us back to the house. I don’t want to go no more.”

  Her voice quivered, and Jessie sensed she had been crying.

  “I can come and get you,” she said.

  “Please,” Irina cried.

  “No problem, we have plenty of time. Will you be able to come outside without drawing their attention?”

  “Every night I take trash out at two o’clock, you come then?”

  “I’ll be there. Is there any place in the parking lot out of sight of the cameras?”

  The girl hesitated a moment. “I think so, by the dumpster.”

  “I’ll wait for you there. Don’t be afraid. We can do this, okay?”

  “You promise you come?” The young girl’s fear was palpable.

  “I promise, Irina. I will be there.”

  While she was getting dressed, disturbing questions suddenly raced through her mind. Where was the girl calling from? The caller ID had been blocked and she was pretty certain Irina had no cell phone. Next, suspicion took over. The Russians could have coerced her to call. To lure her to the Club, beat her up, or worse yet, make her disappear altogether. They were bound to know about her after her frequent inquiries and her snooping around.

  Finally, she shrugged off her doubts. No matter what, a promise was a promise. She wasn’t going to back down now. She made up her mind to go. Another glance at the clock assured her she had plenty of time. At this time of the night, it would take her less than a half hour to get to the strip club. She went to the closet and took out a shoe box wedged behind an old backpack. She sat it on the corner of her dresser and removed the lid. Carefully wrapped in a cloth was a .38 Smith and Wesson revolver. Although it mostly remained in the closet, every now and then, she took it out for a ride to the shooting range in Davie. A few years earlier, she learned how to use the weapon and now kept up the practice, just in case she needed it for self- defense. She kept cartridges in the box as well. She loaded the gun, closed the cylinder, clicked it back in place, and tucked it in her purse.

  Twenty minutes later she was on her way to the Doll House. It was ten till two when she arrived at the club. Having plenty of time, she slowly circled the block twice while keeping an eye on her rearview mirror. She didn’t notice anything suspicious. As she turned into the parking lot, she remembered seeing the dumpster during her previous visit. It sat next to a wooden fence separating the Doll House from a body shop. She drove up to it and scanned the surrounding area. There were no cameras. Somewhat reassured, she backed into a parking space next to the container, then noticed a big black pickup truck blocking her view to the building’s back door. Even so, she decided to stay where she was out of precaution. If she moved elsewhere she might be visible on one of the cameras affixed on the building. Also, if Irina didn’t spot her close to the dumpster, she might panic. She turned off the lights and the engine.

  The thumping of loud music from the club shattered the quiet of the night, an unsettling mixture of serene darkness and throbbing sound. Two dim lamps in the back lot provided scant light as dark clouds hung low in the sky and humidity was thick as fog. After a few minutes of sitting in the stagnant heat, Jessie rolled down the windows, keeping a cautious eye on her surroundings. A short time later, the back door opened, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. Quickly she reached into her handbag on the passenger seat and took hold of the gun. Just then, a burly man with a thick beard appeared at the front of the black truck, stumbling twice before he reached the driver’s door, then cursed loudly as he fumbled with his keys. Finally, he managed to get the door open. As he did, he turned sideways and he caught sight of Jessie. He stopped dead in his tracks. She didn’t move. The man leaned against his vehicle and lit a cigarette with an unsteady hand.

  “Hey,” he said drunkenly.

  Jessie gave him a cold stare. After a minute or so, he seemed to make up his mind, threw away his cigarette, and staggered over to her car. He leaned in the window.

  “Hey, Babe, looking for some action?” he asked in a raspy voice, his breath reeking of beer.

  She shook her head. “Just waiting for my squeeze. She’s getting off in a couple of minutes.”

  He hesitated, then spotted the gun in her lap. It was pointing in his direction. He pulled away like he was stung and went back to his truck. Before climbing in the cab, he leered at her in disgust. “Damn dyke,” he muttered, as he took off in a cloud of dirt and dust.

  Another fifteen minutes went by. Jessie was getting worried, wondering if something went wrong or if Irina got cold feet. With the pickup gone, she now had a clear view of the back entrance. She was still unsure about what to do next, when the door opened. A small silhouette wearing a hoodie stepped outside, carrying a trash bag nearly her size. The door snapped closed behind her, and she stood still for a moment scanning the lot. Jessie waved at her. As soon as she caught sight of her, the girl dropped the bag and dashed to the car. Without saying a word, she jumped in the passenger seat, and just as quickly, Jessie started the engine and took off. She waited until she was a full block away before turning on her headlights.

  With the mixture of fear and excitement still intense, they drove in silence until they were several miles from the Club and Jessie deemed it safe to pull into the parking lot of a Denny’s. The restaurant was well lit and despite the late hour, a number of customers were still coming in and out. She turned to Irina and smiled in relief. “We made it.”

  Irina quietly took off her hood and Jessie gasped at the sight of her face. Her forehead and cheek were bloodied. One of her eyes was swollen shut.

  “Oh my god, who did this to you?”

  “Ivan. I didn’t want to do sex with customers anymore. They are mean and hurt me all the time, so he beat me. He say he will kill me if I say no again. I had to go,” the girl said, crying softly.

  Jessie reached over and took hold of her hand. “Oh Irina, I’m so sorry. You’re safe now. He will never be able to hurt you again.”

  The girl nodded, drying her tears with her sleeve. “I waited until he went out for a while, then I sneak into office and use phone and call you.”

  Jessie gave her a reassuring smile. “You made the right decision. I’m taking you home and then we’ll decide what to do next.”

  While driving east on 595, she realized how easily the Russians could figure out her involvement in Irina’s disappearance. Her two recent visits to the club would certainly be suspicious, and since Irina’s called her from Ivan’s office, they could find out her name and where she lived. She slowed down. Just past the airport, she took the southbound exit on U.S.1 and drove to the nearest hotel. As they pulled in, Irina’s eyes widened. “This is your home?”

  Jessie smiled. “For tonight, it’s our home. Tomorrow, we’ll
see.”

  Once they were in their room, she took a closer look at the young girl’s face. It appeared even worse under the bright lights. With a warm cloth, she gently dabbed at the wounds.

  It was past three o’clock by the time they went to bed. Irina was still sleeping soundly when Jessie got up at eight o’clock. She went downstairs to the hotel’s breakfast nook, had coffee and a bagel, and made some calls. She left a message for Sam Perrone, stressing it was urgent to call her back as soon as possible. Next she rang Art, told him about Irina, then listened to him rant and rave about her foolishness. As soon as she clicked off, Perrone called back. She told him about the girl and he listened quietly.

  “Stay there,” he said. “I’ll be over shortly.”

  She got a refill on her coffee and waited. Perrone walked in twenty minutes later. He was thinner than the last time they met. His hair was streaked with gray and his suit had a well-worn shine to it. He gave her a tired smile, poured himself a cup of coffee, and took a seat across from her. He emptied a packet of sugar into his cup and stirred it slowly.

  “Do you think she’ll talk to me?” he ventured before taking a couple of careful sips of the hot beverage.

  “I think so.”

  He nodded somberly and stood up. “Okay then, let’s go.”

  Jessie grabbed a cup of orange juice and a bagel for Irina, and they went upstairs. The girl was awake. In broken English and between sobs, she told them her story. How she left Russia at fourteen, lured by the promise of a good job in America. Instead, the moment she arrived all her identification was confiscated. Then she was beaten, raped, and forced into prostitution by Ivan and his partner. That was her new life.

  When Sam got ready to leave, Jessie walked him out. He shook his head. “Jessie, you have to realize, it’s not just about Irina now. If she can identify this man Ivan and some of the other mobsters, they might finally be able to prosecute them. I have a contact at the FBI. We’ve worked together on several cases and he’s a straight shooter. Let me give him a call.”

  It was midmorning when Perrone came back with the FBI agent. He introduced him as Special Agent Daryl Bellamy. He asked Irina for the names of the men who ran the strip club and jotted down the information. When he was done with his questions, he took Jessie and Sam aside and spoke softly. “As I suspected, these men are members of the Russian Mafia or the Bratva, as it is called. Ivan Zherdev and his associate Leonid Gorev are in the top tier, and we know they are deeply involved in human trafficking and drug distribution. They’ve also been linked to a series of mob related murders in South Florida. So far, we haven’t been able to prove any of it. They are ruthless and rule by fear. No one dares come forward.”

  Jessie frowned. “What about the information Irina gave you? Isn’t it enough to arrest these men?”

  The agent sighed. “The moment she disappeared, I can tell you what happened. All the under aged and illegal girls were whisked out of there. They’ll deny knowing Irina, and there will be no witnesses or records to confirm her story. Nonetheless, we’ll see if we make anything stick. It’s worth a shot.”

  Jessie couldn’t believe where this conversation was going. “So what now?”

  “When I leave here, I will arrange to have one of our female agents pick her up and take her to a safe house.”

  “And what about later?”

  He peered at her glumly. “I can’t make any promises. I can only say we’ll have a good case in her favor, if her testimony helps us nail those guys. Some things are negotiable.”

  “I promised her she would be safe,” Jessie said, frustration creeping into her voice.

  “I will do whatever I can to protect her,” Bellamy replied.

  The two men left and Irina turned to Jessie. “I’m scared. I can stay with you?”

  “Agent Bellamy is sending a lady agent who will take you to a safe place. After Ivan and his accomplices are arrested and go to jail, we will get together again and figure out what’s the best for you,” Jessie said weakly.

  Irina nodded slowly, but the wounded look in her eyes told Jessie she had lost her trust. A couple of hours later, a female agent showed up. She was young and congenial, and Jessie hoped it would put Irina more at ease. They hugged before they left. With a void feeling in her chest, Jessie watched the slight girl walk away with the woman at her side. She gathered her belongings and checked out.

  Art was still at his desk when she walked in the office. He frowned as soon as he saw her. “Where the hell have you been?”

  She told him about the FBI’s visit and Irina going to a safe house. When she was done, he shook his head, and Jessie wondered what was coming.

  “I have to hand it to you, rescuing that kid middle of the night, you’ve got bigger balls than most of my guys out there. You could’ve gotten killed by those bastards.” He frowned. “Now when the hell are you writing this up?”

  “It’ll be ready tomorrow. We can’t mention Irina, not right now anyway.”

  He shrugged. “Take it as far as you can.”

  Although it was already five o’clock, she went back to her desk and started typing, words flying effortlessly on the pages, driven by her bitterness and anger.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Bellamy called as she was walking out the door on her way to work.

  “I’m afraid I have some bad news, Jessie,” he said somberly.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Irina is gone. She slipped out of the house while my agent was on the phone.”

  Jessie stopped in her tracks, dread tightening her chest. “How long ago?”

  “Late last night. She probably got scared. Those girls often do.”

  “Where could she have gone?”

  “She may have found her way back to the Club. Maybe she believes they’ll forgive her. They won’t. They would never trust her again.”

  “Can you please search for her?” she pleaded.

  “Jessie, she’s one of thousands of illegals in this country. We just don’t have the resources to find them. Even assigning an agent to look after her in a safe house was more than I was supposed to do. I’m sorry.”

  She drove to work, focusing on the people in the streets, hoping somehow she would spot Irina on a sidewalk.

  Liam called shortly after lunch. “What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as heard her voice.

  She told him and was greeted by silence. “Liam?”

  “You shouldn’t have gone to the Club by yourself. That was crazy.”

  “That’s what I’ve been told. Several times as a matter of fact. So, I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” she said abruptly.

  “Okay, I get it. Are you free this afternoon?” he asked.

  “Why?”

  “How about coming with me to the sheriff’s office? In their infinite generosity, they agreed to give me access to the security video from the airport. It probably won’t be helpful, but you never know. It’s worth a try.”

  She thought it would help keep her mind off Irina. A half hour later they met at the Broward County Sheriff’s building. At the front desk Liam asked for Boyd. They were directed to his office, a cramped windowless room with two desks facing each other. Boyd occupied one of them. Piles of folders were stacked unevenly on top. Two coffee mugs and a wire basket with more folders shared the remaining space. The other desk was neat and empty.

  The detective looked surprised when he saw Jessie. “Liam, you didn’t tell me you were bringing company.”

  Jessie smiled. “Don’t worry, I can’t publish anything related to the diamond theft, so my visit is totally off the record.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I had an FBI agent stop by and pay me a call. He informed me I couldn’t publish any further information about the case. Said it was a matter of national security.”

  Boyd hesitated. “I don’t know…”

  “Jim, I don’t see what harm there is for Jessie to see the video. Do you?” Liam said.

  Al
though Boyd still didn’t seem quite sure, he finally nodded in agreement. He retrieved a USB flash drive from a drawer and motioned for Liam to shut the door. Next he plugged the drive into the laptop on his desk. They waited for the screen to pop up.

  “How did you get it on there?” Liam asked.

  Boyd shrugged. “I’m far from technically savvy. I played with it for a bit and I managed somehow. This was patched together from the different cameras at the airport.”

  As the images came up, Jessie and Liam leaned over his shoulder to get a better view. He fast forwarded past the first few frames, then slowed down, pointing as he went along.

  “Down there on the left, Thomas is entering the terminal. Check how he’s scanning the place, searching for an easy mark. When he doesn’t spot any, he heads for the new arrivals. Now over here, he slows down. He finds what he wants and he trails her for a while.”

  They followed Thomas walking a few paces behind a well-dressed woman.

  “It looks like he’s targeting her handbag. He’s close enough, he’s about ready to reach for it, then boom, there comes a bunch of kids fresh off the plane, swarming the area. She’s surrounded and he can’t get to her. They spoiled his game, so he drops back, probably wondering what to do next. Then shortly after, there’s a commotion. It’s the courier going down. He hits the floor, the briefcase goes flying, the crowd gathers and Thomas moves in, grabs the case, and takes off like flint—”

  Suddenly Jessie gripped his shoulder.

  “Hold on! Hold it right there,” she shouted.

  The two men looked at her in surprise and Boyd froze the picture.

  Jessie leaned in closer. “The man, right there, pulling away from the crowd and going after Dariel, I’ve seen him before.”

  Boyd rolled back the film a few frames. The man appeared more clearly now, short, dark skinned and dark haired. “Are you sure?” Boyd asked.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I just don’t remember where.” She shut her eyes tight, trying to recall, then shook her head in frustration. “Dariel told me a dark man chased him at the airport. He believed he was with the courier and he was sure he killed Mandy.”