Nicoletta nodded. But it was clear she wasn’t convinced.
‘Where are you from?’ Brady asked her.
She shot Trina a nervous look. Trina nodded for her to continue.
The girl gestured towards the ceiling and he realised that she must live in the apartment above the club.
‘I work … sleep … work …’ she answered, shrugging.
‘Do you live with anyone else upstairs?’ asked Brady.
‘Ronnie Macmillan, that’s who,’ angrily interrupted Trina.
‘What?’
‘Yeah … He owns this place and half of Wallsend by all accounts,’ answered Trina. ‘And he owns Nicoletta. Bought her from the Dabkunas brothers.’
‘Why did they sell you?’ Brady asked, curious.
‘I gift,’ Nicoletta quietly explained.
‘A gift?’ Brady asked, incredulous.
She nodded, making her long light brown hair fall into her face.
‘Why? Why would they make you a gift?’
‘Business … I …’ She shrugged, turning to Trina for help.
‘Macmillan took a liking to her and they handed her over to seal whatever deal it is they have going on,’ explained Trina.
Nicoletta nodded.
‘Why don’t you go home?’ asked Brady. ‘Back to your country?’
She looked at Brady, incredulous.
‘How?’ she questioned, an edge of anger to her voice. ‘No nothing … no money … nothing. They take … take everything,’ she said resignedly.
Brady thought of Claudia and her team.
‘I know people who can get you out of here. Who can get you back home,’ Brady offered.
‘They kill me,’ she coldly stated. ‘They cut sister’s hands and feet off … if … if …’
She dropped her eyes and played with the ice in her glass as she thought about her options.
‘I no go …’ she said with a tone of finality.
Brady didn’t like what he was hearing. Didn’t like what he saw – the bruising on her bare arms, on her shoulders and, he noticed, in the centre of her bare back, as if she’d been kicked. He also noted the recent purplish discolouring on her right cheek.
But what startled him more than anything was her eyes. They were cold. She had given up hope. She was living a nightmarish existence. Pimped by Macmillan but also expected to service him after she’d finished in the club. And if he felt pissed off, he kicked her around as if she were a dog.
Every part of Brady’s body screamed at him to just grab her and take her out of the place. Get into Conrad’s car and drive. Drive her as far away as possible from Ronnie Macmillan and his club. But he knew that wasn’t the answer. It was simple; she wouldn’t come without a fight. And that would result in getting them both killed. Fear was her captor. Fear that the men who had taken her would stop at nothing to hurt her. And if they couldn’t get her, then the next best thing would be her family back home.
The only way he could convince her that no harm would come to her or those she loved was by stopping these men once and for all.
‘Nicoletta?’
She looked at him. Her eyes distrustful. He was a man after all. Why should she trust him? As far as she was concerned, he was no doubt out to use her just as much as the other men in her life.
‘Have you been branded?’ Brady asked, not wanting to, but he had no choice. He needed to know.
Nicoletta looked from him to Trina, confused.
‘Show him your back. The bottom of your back,’ instructed Trina.
Nicoletta did as she was told. She turned in the seat so he could see the bottom of her back.
Brady noted that she had the identical ‘MD’ initials positioned below a scorpion.
This was much bigger than even he had imagined.
‘Do you know where they are? Where they stay? The brothers who did this to you?’ Brady questioned.
He looked from Nicoletta to Trina.
Trina shook her head, as did Nicoletta.
‘No … we watched … we …’ Nicoletta looked to the older woman for help as she gestured towards her eyes. ‘When move us.’
‘They blindfold you?’
She nodded at him.
Brady inwardly sighed. He knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
‘How do they transport you?’
‘Van,’ she answered simply.
‘Can you tell me anything about it?’
She shook her head.
‘I’ve seen it …’ interrupted Trina.
She edged forward towards Brady, looking around first to make sure no one could overhear her.
‘It’s a black Mercedes they drive. That’s what Nick was driving yesterday. I was having a tab out the back and it was parked up.’
Brady realised that Nicoletta was crying. Silent, restrained tears.
‘What is it, Nicoletta?’ asked Brady gently. ‘What are you not telling me?’
She looked at him, scared.
‘Go on,’ prompted Trina. ‘Tell him. Tell him about your friend, Edita.’
‘We friends. She Lithuanian like me,’ Nicoletta said, her eyes downcast as she stared at her untouched drink.
‘Her name? What’s her full name?’
‘Edita … Edita Aginatas …’
‘What happened to her?’ asked Brady recognising the name as that of the missing girl from Claudia’s briefing.
Nicoletta shook her head. She couldn’t speak.
Trina squeezed her hand tightly and nodded at her.
‘She’s disappeared, Jack … . That’s what they do. They punish them if they try to escape. She has a six-month-old baby back home in …’ She paused and looked at Nicoletta.
‘Raseiniai,’ Nicoletta whispered as tears slid down her face.
‘Her mother looked after her baby so she could come to England to work. To send money back home.’
‘No money … we no money send home,’ corrected Nicoletta.
‘Who took Edita, Nicoletta?’ asked Brady.
‘Dabkunas brothers. Marijuis Dabkunas … He Edita’s …’ She turned to Trina to help her explain.
‘Marijuis was her boyfriend. Convinced Edita to come here. Turns out he was only out to pimp her. She tried to escape, to get back to her baby. From what I know she tried to persuade a punter from the club Edita and Nicoletta worked in before here to help get her out.’
Brady turned from Trina to Nicoletta and watched as tears continued down her pale, haunted face. Trina’s words cutting her to the core.
He felt sick enough as it was without needing to hear any more. He knew it could only get worse.
‘What happened to her, Nicoletta?’ he prompted.
But she shook her head.
He turned to the other woman. ‘Trina?’
‘She got a package a few days ago from home. A punishment for talking to a punter and a warning of what could happen if she did it again,’ explained Trina.
‘What? What was in the package?’ asked Brady looking at Nicoletta.
She anxiously chewed her lip as she thought about it.
‘Baby. Photograph.’
Brady frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
Trina cut in. ‘Marijuis Dabkunas is in the photograph holding Edita’s baby with his arm around her eleven year old sister.’
Brady shook his head. It didn’t make sense.
‘He has her baby and sister?’ asked Brady.
‘She doesn’t know … nobody knows. Come on, Jack … You’re the bloody copper! That’s why she tried to get away. To get a chance to contact her mother, somehow to warn her not to trust Marijuis. That they had to leave and go someplace where he couldn’t find them. But they found her before she managed to call them …’
‘If this Marijuis hasn’t already taken them,’ Brady quietly pointed out.
Trina looked at Brady.
‘I know … and now it’s all gone horribly wrong.’
Nobody said anything.‘What happened to Edita?’ Brady questioned, breaki
ng the heavy silence.
‘You tell us,’ Trina replied.
‘Only you can tell me that,’ answered Brady.
‘She just disappeared … Who do you think Nick was looking for? Edita!’
‘Was she here, Nicoletta? Was she hiding here?’ Brady asked.
The girl nodded, surprised that he had guessed.
Brady understood now why Nick would have turned up here looking for her.
‘What happened to her then?’
Nicoletta remained silent, refusing to look at him.
‘Trina? What happened to her? What did they do with Edita?’ demanded Brady, turning to her.
Trina looked at Nicoletta.
‘Tell him,’ she insisted.
‘She no stay … she flat … with others. Come here work. Dabkunas bring her. Wanted escape … warn family … I … help … I hide her,’ she reluctantly told him, pointing to the back of the club.
Brady looked confused.
‘I don’t understand. Where?’
‘There’s a cellar downstairs, Jack. For the beer barrels. That’s where Edita hid waiting for an opportunity to get out but they found her last night … and took her,’ explained Trina.
Brady nodded at Trina, grateful that she was prepared to take the risk of telling him.
‘Nicoletta?’ he said gently.
‘Dabkunas brothers … man … took Edita.’
‘What did the other man look like?’ asked Brady. ‘Can you remember?’
Trina shot Brady a look but he ignored her.
‘What did he look like?’ he repeated.
Nicoletta shrugged.
‘Scar … here,’ she said pointing to her cheek.
Brady didn’t say anything. But inside he felt sick.
He glanced across at Trina but she had her eyes cast down, refusing to look at him. They both knew it was Nick. There was no question that he was the driver of the van.
‘What? What did they do?’ he forced himself to ask.
‘They … they … in van. Edita … took me. I … see cut fingers off …’ She paused, unable to continue as she looked down at her own fingers.
‘Who? Who did that to her?’ Brady asked.
‘Marijuis and Mykolas Dabkunas.’
‘What about the man with the scar?’ asked Brady trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. ‘What did he do?’
‘He not see. In front. Drive,’ answered Nicoletta, not understanding the full implication of her answer for Brady.
‘Did he know?’
Nicoletta frowned unsure of the question and then shook her head as tears uncontrollably slid down her face.
‘Music … loud … in back …’
Brady nodded, in some small way relieved.
‘They bring back me … Edita keep … but …’ She suddenly hid her hands as she recalled what had happened to her friend.
Brady resisted the urge to reach out and try and comfort her, realising that words were futile.
He sat back and waited. As he did he couldn’t help noticing that the bartender appeared too interested in what they were discussing.
Brady leaned forward, realising he was running out of time.
‘These brothers, the Dabkunas brothers, were they wearing gold signet rings with the letter “N” on them?’
She looked at him, surprised that he knew.
In that one look he realised he had crossed the line. Asked one too many questions.
Her eyes were filled with horror.
‘How? How know?’ she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Brady realised that she was scared. Not of them, but of him. She feared that she had been tricked into talking and that he was one of them.
She suddenly stood up, knocking her drink over as she did.
‘Nicoletta?’ Brady said softly, as if talking to a frightened child.
For that’s all she was, some eighteen or nineteen-year-old child, afraid and emaciated through lack of food. Still scared of the bogeyman. But in her case the bogeyman was real. He had come one night and taken her. Delivering her into a nightmarish hell.
‘No … no!’ she cried out, backing away.
Brady grabbed hold of her arm, trying to make her sit down and listen.
‘Nicoletta, I can help you … please.’
‘No …’ she cried out, wild-eyed. ‘You … you?’
‘No, Nicoletta,’ assured Brady, realising that the situation was getting out of control. ‘Listen to me, what happened to your friend won’t happen to you. I promise you. I can help get you out of here,’ he pleaded.
He attempted to reach out. Calm her down.
But she backed even further away from him.
‘What the fuck’s going on here, eh pet?’ snarled a male voice. ‘Swapping fucking life stories, are we?’
Caught unaware, Brady looked up.
In that split second, Nicoletta legged it. As far away from him as possible.
Then suddenly the club’s hired muscle, Davy, was in the frame. The bartender was standing behind him.
‘Come on, lads … we’re just having a friendly drink. Nothing to get hot and bothered about,’ replied Brady.
But he didn’t have a chance to say another word.
In one swift action Davy dragged him out of the booth to his feet. Brady might have been 6´2? but Davy was easily 6´7?.
‘Get out!’ ordered Davy close to Brady’s face.
Too close.
Brady could smell the sour stench of tobacco and coffee, coupled with the beer and curry he’d gorged on the night before Friday night traditionally being beer and curry night for the hardcore locals.
‘If I see your fucking ugly mug back in here again, those cuts and bruises on your face will be nothing compared to the pasting I’ll give you!’
‘Davy man!’ interrupted Trina. ‘Will ye hadaway and shite! Bloody bloke’s going now. Alright. No harm done like!’
‘Ronnie wants to know what you three have been fucking chatting about,’ Davy the bouncer fired back.
Trina shot the bartender a dangerous look. He’d fucked her over. And there was one thing that Trina McGuire took exception to, and that was betrayal.
The bartender ignored her, making it quite clear he didn’t give a shit. His loyalty was with his boss, Ronnie Macmillan and not some has-been lap dancer-cum-prostitute.
‘Talking about his copper mate Adamson,’ snapped Trina. ‘Alright? Wanker’s trying to close us down. He’s doing undercover work. That’s why he’s in here every other day. Or were you too dumb to realise that?’
Brady tried hard not to react.
The thought of Adamson turning up at the strip club straight into Davy’s ‘Love/Hate’ fists quite appealed to him. It definitely wouldn’t be the kind of hand action that Adamson would be expecting.
‘Now let him go, will ye?’ Trina demanded.
Davy did as he was told while the bartender walked back to behind the bar.
‘You, out!’ Trina then ordered as she stared at Brady.
‘I’m going … I’m going, alright?’ Brady said, putting his hands up to show there was no resistance.
‘Too right you are! Turning up here causing trouble for me and my mate!’ shouted Trina.
Brady was sure it was more for the benefit of Davy and the bartender than for him.
He walked to the door and left before Davy had second thoughts.
‘And don’t come back!’ Trina shouted after him.
He turned to look at Trina as she stood in the open doorway and spoke quickly and quietly. ‘Listen, if Nick gets in touch with you, let me know. You’ve got my number. Give it to Nicoletta and let her know that I can help her get away from this. There’s a woman called Claudia who works with sex trafficked girls. She could get her into a safe-house. Yeah?’
‘Fuck off, will you?’ Trina shouted.
‘You’re better than this.’
‘Save it, Jack,’ she replied bitterly. ‘We both know you don’t mean i
t.’
Brady shook his head as he looked at her.
‘And you tell that little shit Adamson that he’s going to get his soon enough!’
‘Do you want me to do something about him?’ asked Brady.
‘What?’ sneered Trina. ‘You’re going to investigate one of your own for beating up girls from a strip club and forcing us to perform sexual acts on him for free? He thinks he can haul us in because of what we do for a living. Don’t think your lot would be interested, do you, Jack? We’re seen as no better than shit on your shoes! Whose word would they believe? A detective inspector or a lap dancer-cum-prossie?’
Brady didn’t answer her. She was right. Unless he had strong evidence that Adamson was abusing his power as a copper then he couldn’t do anything about it. Simply put, he was a copper who liked to exert his power – especially when it came to women.
‘Anyway, once Davy’s finished with him, the wanker won’t be able to wipe his own arse again!’ Trina stated.
‘I mean it, Trina, you’re too good for this …’
‘Yeah? Tell my landlord that!’ Trina snapped.
If Brady wasn’t mistaken there were tears in her eyes.
Before he could say another word she angrily spun around and walked back into the club.
Helpless, Brady watched her disappear.
Brady made his way out to the Saab. Conrad had already turned the car around ready to head towards the embankment. As he walked towards the car his mind was reeling with thoughts of how he could get Nicoletta away from Ronnie Macmillan and the hell she was living in.
He got in the car as Conrad thrust it into gear. It was pulling away before he’d even had a chance to shut the passenger door.
Brady turned and looked back at the club. There was a reason why Conrad was so eager to get moving.
Two well-dressed, dark-haired men were now standing by the front door. They looked sharp. Expensive suits, well groomed. But trouble none the less.
As Conrad drove off towards the embankment Brady realised that there was something worryingly familiar about them.
‘Conrad, turn the car round!’
‘Sir?’
‘Turn the car around!’
The tyres squealed as Conrad slammed on the brakes and threw the car into a three-point turn.
‘Shit!’ cursed Brady.
The men had gone.
‘Who were they?’ asked Conrad.
‘They were the men with Simone last night in Madley’s nightclub. I saw them …’ Brady explained without thinking.
Vanishing Point Page 21