The Collector

by Scott Wittenburg

Alan was impressed with the safe house where he had just dropped off Nadiya— spotlessly clean, well appointed and comfortable. He also felt optimistic about Nadiya’s positive reaction toward her temporary quarters and her counselor, Human Connection’s caseworker Maddie Fulton. Maddie’s warm and compassionate demeanor was a bright spot in an otherwise bleak situation and Alan sensed an immediate bond taking place between her and Nadiya.

  As weary as he felt from the long road trip, Alan’s wheels were turning furiously when he entered his hotel room. He had a lot to do and knew he had to put things into place quickly. There was little doubt in his mind that Yuri Popov knew of his visit with Nadiya by now and that Nadiya ran away as a result of his visit to his house. Not only would Popov be livid that his live-in sex slave had flown the coop but he would be chomping at the bit to find out what Alan’s connection was to the whole situation. In order to bypass any repercussions resulting from Nadiya’s escape—such as Popov alerting his associates of Alan’s likely involvement— he needed to avoid any possible connection to Popov at this point in the investigation.

  He sat down at the small table near the window, removed the lid from his Starbucks coffee and took a sip of Pike Place Roast. He powered up Yuri Popov’s Blackberry, clicked on the contacts and scrolled down to the listing for Luka Rusakov. Alan stared at the phone number a full minute, knowing he needed to make the call as soon as possible, wondering if he would be able to pull this off. Everything was at stake with this call, and the result would either bring him closer to finding Polina or blow the entire case to hell and back.

  A bead of sweat that had formed on his brow now found its way into his eye. He wiped it away, grabbed his iPhone and keyed in Rusakov’s number. There was a long string of numbers and he wondered if he would even be able to connect. Most likely some of the numbers were international calling codes. Was this the number of the man’s cell phone somewhere in Russia? Would the call even go through from his own cell phone?

  In a moment he’d know.

  After a brief silence, he heard a ring tone and held his breath. Another four rings and then a click. A recorded voice in Russian came on and Alan cursed to himself as a thought came to mind: what if Luka doesn’t know any English? He would be sunk right from the get-go—

  A live voice suddenly interrupted the outgoing voice mail message.

  “Allo.”

  “Mr. Rusakov?” Alan said.

  “Da.”

  “This is Gordon Davis in America. I would like to talk to you about a purchase I am interested in making. That is to say more specifically, a purchase of your services.”

  “Who is this—Gordon Davis? I know no one by this name.”

  Alan breathed a sign of relief when he heard the Russian’s clipped English.

  “I am an acquaintance of Viktor’s in New York. That is to say, I know of Viktor through a common friend of ours. He referred me to you.”

  “Who is this Viktor? I know of no Viktor in New York. I’m sorry, but you have the wrong number.”

  Alan could sense he was lying. The guy was trying to feel him out to make sure he was legit.

  “I am certain you know Viktor. Viktor Skipetroff? That’s how I got your phone number—how else could I have contacted you?”

  There was a brief pause as Luka processed this. Alan kept his fingers crossed.

  “Oh, yes. I do know of Viktor. But what do you want of me? What is this about a purchase?”

  “You have access to something that I am willing to pay a lot of money for. But I am afraid to discuss it over the phone. Is there any way that I could possibly meet with you to discuss this?”

  “What do you mean, Mister, uh—Davis?” Luka asked.

  “As I said, I prefer not to discuss this matter over the phone. How do I know the line is safe? I am secure from my end but how do I know that your line isn’t bugged?”

  Luka chuckled. “Oh, I can assure you that my line is not, bugged, as you say, Mr. Davis! I am paying very much for this phone line—I take no chances.”

  His naive air of confidence and quasi exclusivity was laughable. Alan wondered how big of a fish Luka Rusakov was in the food chain of this whole racket. Then he recalled Nadiya’s mention of his being a close friend to Yuri Popov, making Rusakov’s level of clout in the organization a moot issue.

  “I have no doubt you don’t take any chances, Mr. Rusakov. But can you assure me that no one is monitoring this call? I don’t take chances, either.”

  “I am a busy man, Mr. Davis, and I have no time for foolishness. Nor am I about to fly to the United States to meet with someone I do not know to discuss the purchase of some unknown services. Please know that your call is in strict confidence and let us cut to the chase, as you Americans say.”

  “Very well, then.” Alan paused a moment for effect. “I have been informed that you know of several young women who are seeking new employment in America. The way I understand it, there are five or so of them all currently working as models for an artist but their engagement is about to come to an end. Do you know what women I am referring to?”

  “I must say, Mr. Davis, that I am impressed that your friend is so uh, knowledgeable of this special situation. There are in fact very few who know of these young ladies and their current employment arrangement.”

  “Well, let’s just say that I have some fairly influential connections and leave it at that. So, Mr. Rusakov, are these women still available for employment?”

  “Yes, but not yet. They should be soon.”

  “What kind of answer is that? Can you be more specific? I mean, are we talking about days, or weeks or what?”

  “I can’t give you an exact date, Mr. Davis. Their current employer has not committed to a time for their release from his employment.”

  “That makes it rather difficult for us to negotiate then, doesn’t it?”

  “I must remind you that it is you who called me, Mr. Davis. At this time these women aren’t yet ready for sale—er—I mean aren’t available for work yet so I am not looking for negotiations with anybody yet.”

  As a result of Luka’s slip of tongue reference to the girls not being ready for sale, Alan felt his pulse quicken. Not only was he now certain that Luka Rusakov knew where Polina and the other girls were, there was a also good chance that they were somewhere in the States. He had purposely told the Russian he had been informed that the girls were seeking new employment in America. Rusakov’s failure to correct him indicated that they were most likely here and not somewhere abroad.

  He decided to go for broke. “So what you are telling me is that you aren’t interested in negotiating the future employment of these girls at this time, Mr. Rusakov?”

  “I didn’t say that—I just said that I haven’t been looking for any employers yet. That isn’t to say I wouldn’t be interested in discussing the matter at this time.”

  Just as I hoped you would say, Mr. Rusakov. “Well, as you no doubt already know, a purchase like this requires a lot of planning, and timing is of the essence. If you are indeed interested in negotiating the future employment of these young women, I need to know not only how soon I can hire them but if I am in fact interested in hiring them in the first place. In other words, I must see the goods first. Is that at all possible, Mr. Rusakov, or would you expect me to make this purchase in blind faith?”

  “Oh, of course not, Mr. Davis! But I can assure you that these women will suit your needs without doubt. They are young, beautiful and as you may already have heard, quite uh—innocent. You can take me on my word for that.”

  “Your word doesn’t mean squat to me, Mr. Rusakov. Listen, I am willing to pay a very large sum of money for your services, but that is contingent upon my being satisfied with the goods you are representing beforehand. Now, I need a straight answer: will I be able to view these women to see if they’re what I’m looking for or not?”

  There was a pause before he replied. “I will first have to check with the current employer about this, Mr. Dav
is. You see, he is rather eccentric and very—uh, private. He may not be willing to agree to this.”

  “You can’t be serious! Are you saying that you’re letting this person tell you how to do your job? I mean, from what I’ve heard, you are the one who is in charge of these young women. Is that not so?”

  “Er, yes, I am. But—“

  “But what, Mr. Rusakov? If that’s true, then you should be calling all of the shots. How can this man expect you to get these women rehired if a potential employer can’t first interview them? That is total bullshit!”

  “My problem is that I made an agreement with this man prior to his employment of these women. It will be very difficult to go against this arrangement, Mr. Davis.”

  “Then I would suggest you give it your best shot, Mr. Rusakov. Otherwise, you are going to have an awful tough time putting up these women until you can find work for them.”

  “I am already aware of that, and don’t think that doesn’t concern me. But a deal is a deal. I can’t break the contract. I can only hope that he will be willing to give me some un—slack, as you say.”

  “I hope so too, for your own sake. I’ll tell you what, Luka—may I call you Luka? Why don’t you speak to this man and explain the situation to him. Tell him that you have an interested party who is insisting on seeing these girls before he will consider hiring them. Tell him what an awkward position he is putting you in. Push him, man! Tell him it’s no skin off of his teeth and that this is just how you do business. Then, after you’ve spoken to him, give me a call and let me know what you find out. Fair enough?”

  Alan knew that pushing the envelope like this could easily blow this whole deal. But he didn’t have time to pussy foot around with this guy. He’d either take the bait or not.

  “Yes, that is fair. But don’t get your hopes up, Mr. Davis.”

  “Don’t worry about me, Luka. I am a patient and understanding man. But when I want something, I almost always end up getting it. You can trust me on that.”

  “Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”

  “No, not at all. It’s just a fact, Luka. Just a fact.”

  “I see. I will call the man and then call you back—“

  “On second thought, I will call you back. How long will it take for you to contact this party and get an answer for me?”

  “Give me a day or two.”

  “A day or two! You have got to be kidding, Luka! How long can it take to punch in a number and ask this guy a simple question?”

  “But, uh, there is an a eight hour time difference between Moscow and the United States—he may already be in bed asleep!”

  “Listen, Luka. I’m calling from the U.S. and it’s only 10:00 PM here. Nobody goes to bed this early except for young children and very old people. I’d like you to call the man as soon as we get off here and find out for me. Do you think you can do that?”

  “You are a pushy one, Mr. Davis—that I can see. Okay, I will call him now. But I can tell you now that he probably is not going to uh, go for this idea.”

  “Only one way to tell. I’ll call you back in fifteen minutes.”

  “Goodbye.”

  After he disconnected, Alan had to laugh. He knew he had taken some huge risks in his conversation with Luka Rusakov, but the man’s insecure demeanor had given him faith that he could get away with it. There was something about the guy that seemed amateurish—like he wasn’t exactly sure how to deal with somebody that’s cocky and demanding. Which was a huge break.

  Now all he could hope for was that the Russian could somehow persuade who ever had Polina and the others to allow him take a look at his models. He had little hope that this would happen however, and he didn’t really plan on it happening. But maybe he could at least get a bead on the artist’s identity or where he was keeping the girls. Then he would take it from there.

  Alan opened the clock app on his iPhone and located the world clock button. He pressed the add button and typed in Moscow. The present time there was 6:05AM. This was exactly eight hours later than the current New York time of 10:05 PM—

  So not only had he learned that Polina was in the States, but there was a good chance they were somewhere in the eastern time zone since Luka had said there was eight hours difference between Moscow and wherever they were being held captive.

  Was it possible that they were in New York?

  Hopefully he would know in just a few moments.

  His thoughts switched over to Elena Nazarova. He wondered about her safety once Popov discovered that Nadiya had escaped. Would he suspect she had been approached by the same person responsible for Nadiya’s leaving? That she may have been the key to Alan’s discovering Nadiya’s whereabouts? He could only hope that the restaurant owner/gang kingpin wouldn’t draw that conclusion. It was unlikely actually, that he would given the circumstances. For unless Alan had been tailed prior to his driving to East Hampton, which Alan doubted, Popov would have no reason to believe that Elena had any part in any of this.

  Every time he thought of the poor woman stuck in that miserable place, Alan’s conscience begged for him to call the cops or the feds and have the place busted immediately. But as difficult as it was to do, he had to keep his promise to Elena and refrain from contacting the authorities. He had a feeling that blowing the whistle on Stokley’s Pub would be a mistake at this point in time anyway. Not only would doing so raise a flag to the others involved in this operation, he knew that the only way Yuri Popov would go down in flames was to go for the kingpin’s jugular. Then Viktor Stipetroff, Luka Rusakov and anyone else involved in this gang would go down along with him.

  He needed to find Polina. That was the key.

  He waited another five minutes and then called Luka again. He got his voice mail. Either the Russian was on the line with Polina’s captor or blowing him off. He continued calling until Luka finally answered.

  “This is Gordon Davis again—what have you found out?”

  “I am sorry, Mr. Davis. But he will not budge. I told you that would be the case.”

  “But that’s not acceptable, Luka! Did you explain to him that you won’t be able to get those girls new employment without his cooperation?”

  “Yes, I did. He told me that that is my problem, not his. I must add that he was very, uh, pissed off that I was calling him. He warned me not to call again, period. This has strained my relationship with this client, Mr. Davis. I’m afraid there is no deal.”

  “No deal, my ass! What kind of businessman are you, Luka? Do you take shit like this from all your clients? I am really disappointed!”

  “Now wait a minute, Mr. Davis. I am a good businessman. I made a deal with this client and I intend to honor his wishes. Sorry, but I must go now.”

  Alan’s desperation was palpable. But he didn’t show it. “Very well, Luka. I guess I understand the position your in and I admire your faith to your clients. So let me take the pressure off of you so we can both benefit. Why don’t you give me your client’s phone number and I will negotiate this with him myself? What do you say?”

  “That is not possible, Mr. Davis. I am also bound not to give his identity or whereabouts to anybody. I am afraid there is nothing else to do.”

  “Listen, Luka. He doesn’t have to know that you told me squat—I will keep you totally out of this. All I need is a phone number and I’ll take it from there. He’ll never know you gave it to me.”

  “Oh, but he will, sir. He will be able to put two plus two together since he already knows that you are an interested party.”

  “How will he know that? He will never be able to prove anything! There are no doubt others in the market for these girls besides myself. He will never know for sure that you had anything to with my contacting him. Trust me.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that—much too risky. Sorry—"

  “Okay, okay,” Alan said. “I won’t pressure you anymore for that number. But will you at least do one thing for me?”

  “What?"
/>
  “Give this person my cell number. Perhaps he will change his mind.”

  Luka chuckled. “He will not change his mind, I can assure you of that. But okay, Mr. Davis, I’ll think about giving him your number. But if I do, it won’t be for at least a week—he does not want to hear back from me. It will have to wait. And don’t expect to hear back from him.”

  “Well, you don’t leave me with any other choice, Luka. So this is my only option.”

  Alan read off his number. “Please let me know if you have a change of heart, Luka. I really want those girls.”

  “I will, Mr. Davis. Goodbye.”

  When Alan disconnected, he felt like he had been ran over by a train. As green as he had thought the Russian was, he realized that he had underestimated him.

  Now, what?

  He had only one hope left. Charlie Ling.

  He pressed his name in his contacts.

  “Charlie, it’s me again. I am hoping and praying you can help me out with something.”

  “Shoot – I’m about ready to give up on that website URL, anyway. I’ve been doing overtime on that thing today. It’s useless, man, I just can’t crack through it. So please give me something that’s doable so I’ll feel a little better.”

  “What about cell phone logs?” Alan asked, crossing his fingers.

  “You mean like, can I tell you who called who at such and such a time?”

  “Exactly.”

  “It depends. Some carriers are easier to hack than others. Some are damn near impossible. Which carrier are we talking about?”

  “Actually I don’t know. All I’ve got is a number. I need to know the number this guy just called a few minutes ago.”

  “That’s not going to help much. Give me the number and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Uh, it’s kinda long— ”

  “What do you mean, “kinda long?”

  “Well, it’s sort of an international cell phone number,” Alan replied lamely.

  “You’re shitting me, right? You want me to not only try to find out info without a carrier name and the carrier is operating outside of the States? That’s a fantasy, my friend!”

  “Can you at least try? I have got to find out who this guy called and where he’s located. It’s the same guy with the website, Charlie. And time is quickly running out.”

  “Okay, I’ll give it a shot. Where is the cell phone located—and please don’t tell me you don’t even know that!”

  “No, it’s in Moscow. That I am sure of.”

  “Shit, it would have to be an ex-communist country! I’ll be honest, Alan, this is not looking too promising. Unless the phone is on a network that is common to the U.S, it will be virtually impossible to even get out of the gate. And even if it is a common carrier, like say AT&T, it’s not going to be a stroll through the park!”

  “Please, just try Charlie—a lot is riding on this. I’ll pay you twice your usual rate.”

  “You know that’s never been an issue with me. But I’ll be honest—I feel like I’ve let you down not being able to come through on that website so I’ll do my best to make up for that. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “I won’t. How long before you can tell me if there’s even a chance?”

  “Depends on how long it takes me to trace down the carrier. Normally that doesn’t take too long—just have to cross-reference exchanges, and so on. Assuming it’s a good carrier, then I an probably get you that info within twenty-four hours.”

  “That would be great! I’m going to go ahead and book the first flight out of here tomorrow and come home. I miss my dog and I am pretty damn tired of this place.”

  “Okay. Give me the number and I’ll get on this right away. I’m not doing anything in particular now anyway.”

  “Thanks Charlie.”

  Alan read off Luka’s cell phone number and the approximate time Luka would have placed his call to Polina’s captor. Then he promised Charlie a steak dinner if he came up with the info within twenty-four hours. Charlie simply laughed and reminded Alan he was a vegetarian before hanging up.

  After booking a flight out of LaGuardia to Columbus that departed at 7:45 the next morning, Alan left a message for Marie Schiff saying that he would be picking up Pan before noon. He followed this up with a call to Maddie Fulton to let her know of his plans to leave the next morning and to ask her to keep him in the loop with regard to Nadiya’s progress. Finally, he called Beth Lindsay and updated her on the case since making contact with Maddie Fulton. Beth commended him for his freeing Nadiya from her incarceration then informed him that she had tried calling Elena twice on the cell phone Alan had left with her but she had not returned her calls. This only made Alan feel even more frustrated than he already was with this case.

  He felt that familiar sense of insecurity lingering again as he chugged down his first beer of the evening.