“You don’t have to do that,” Marina protested from her place in bed, but there was no enthusiasm in her complaint. She was resigned to whatever help she might get.
“You relax,” Natalia replied. “First I’m going to feed you and then we’ll give you a bath.”
“Thank you, Natalia,” Marina conceded. Her relief was palpable. “I haven’t had one of those in a while.”
“I’m going to take care of you, Marina. All you have to do is let me, though it might help if told me what was wrong with you.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not contagious. Not in the usual sense.”
“So you’ve seen a doctor?”
Marina couldn’t, or wouldn’t, answer this question.
“Come on, Marina, talk to me!” Natalia pleaded.
“Yes, I’ve seen a doctor…” Marina’s voice trailed away.
“And what did the doctor say?”
“What I’ve got is a hazard of the trade.”
“You tested positive,” Natalia put it together. “How long have you known?”
“A year. Maybe more.”
“A year!? And you kept working?!”
“What was I supposed to do? A girl has to survive!”
“But I was here… And you didn’t say anything?!”
“Would it have made a difference?”
Natalia stirred the soup. “There are drugs, you know. People lead long healthy lives!”
“Do you know how much those cost? I have no papers here. I can’t even see a doctor unless I pay. I was on those drugs for a while but… business has been slow.”
“There must be someone that can help you. Some organization? You can’t just give up like this, I won’t let you!”
Marina didn’t have the strength to argue. “I am glad you’re here, Natalia. I want you to know that. You’re the closest thing to family that I have.”
For Natalia, this was perhaps the saddest part of it all, that someone could be so alone in the world. She turned off the burner and ladled the soup into two bowls, then sliced the bread and placed it on a plate on the table. “Come, let’s get some food into you.”
Once Marina was fed, bathed and tucked back into bed, clean and warm, Natalia left the apartment and took a streetcar toward the waterfront. She needed some time to clear her mind, to prepare herself for the night ahead. Clinging to an overhead strap as the tram lurched and jolted down the track, Natalia was bumped and pressed on all sides. Through the windows she saw minarets reaching for the sky, shopkeepers sitting in front of their stores and tourists lounging in sidewalk cafes. The streetcar wound down past Topkapi Palace to the docks, where Natalia climbed out and joined throngs of workers, rushing to catch their ferries home at the end of the work day.
At a railing along the water, crowds of men held long fishing poles over the bay, bouncing their lines up and down as they tried to catch their dinner. Natalia gazed across the Golden Horn and on up the Bosporus Strait. She watched the fishing boats, ferry boats and cargo ships plying the water in a mad and complicated dance. Far across the waterway she spotted a large white ferry, the size of a cruise ship with a big blue smokestack. Giant blue letters across the side read UKR FERRY. The same ship she and Sonia arrived on the previous spring, so full of hopes and dreams. Natalia wondered how many girls arrived each week with similar expectations. She couldn’t stop the trade, that was impossible, but she could make a dent. She could kill Zigic. This idea was becoming an obsession.
Continuing through a pedestrian tunnel under a large bridge span, Natalia emerged in a small concrete amphitheater overlooking the bay. Groups of locals sat idly chatting on the steps, an island of calm in a tempestuous city. Natalia found a place of her own and sat to watch the sky turn a golden yellow in the west. She inhaled deeply, the salt air filling her lungs. Nearby she spotted a young couple, giddy with euphoria. This was what happiness looked like, she thought. That sensation was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Hers was a cruel and heartless world, yet still there were moments. Returning to the farm to see her family. Time spent with Gregor. Her last night in Drosti, falling asleep in his arms. Even in a life with so much pain, there still was joy to be found. Natalia took in the buzz of this city all around her and made a silent pledge. When all of this was over she would create a life for herself somewhere out in the world; in London or Paris or Rome, or perhaps even that small, quaint fishing village on the Italian coast. She would succeed on her own terms, if not for herself alone than for Sonia, too. She would live this dream for both of them. But first, she had a sister to find. Natalia turned and walked back the way she had come, desperate for just a few hours of sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Six
From a clear plastic bag, Natalia pulled out three wigs, one at a time, and placed them on the bathroom counter before her. She’d slept for two hours, crashing so hard that the alarm almost didn’t wake her. Even after rousing herself and taking another shower Natalia still felt groggy. She did her best to focus on her task at hand. The first wig was blond and shoulder-length, the second long, straight and dark, and finally the one she was searching for; short, black and curly. She tried this third one on, tucking her own hair underneath as she looked into the mirror, turning her head from side to side. She had a long way to go. From another bag, Natalia sorted through a selection of rubber noses and chins, cheeks and a black moustache. She made room for them on the counter as well, along with application glues and matching foundation. It took more than an hour to blend her new face together, but even with the elements in place, something wasn’t right. Her eyebrows were long and thin. They ought to be bushy. She dug through her kit until she found what she needed. She had to give Gregor credit. He thought of everything. Natalia pulled off the adhesive backing and applied the eyebrows. It was a big improvement. When she looked in the mirror, Natalia saw a man’s face staring back.
Using scissors to cut a bathroom towel into squares, Natalia taped them to her shoulders before putting on her overcoat and adjusting it in the mirror. Loose pants hid her feminine legs. Black leather boots provided the final touch. It was all in the presentation, he’d told her. If you believed it enough yourself, you could pass for anyone. Natalia tried hard to believe it. She stuck the pistol in her coat pocket and headed out the door. When she got to the ground floor, she moved past the front desk and out before the clerk could say a word. Once on the street, she tried to gauge the reaction of passersby. Nobody paid her any particular attention. That in itself was a good sign. She lifted her shoulders and forged ahead, trying her best to walk like a man. That part shouldn’t be so hard, she thought. According to Gregor, she always walked like a man…
It was still early when she arrived at The Blue Room. Business wasn’t likely to pick up until sometime after midnight. Outside on a stool, a burly doorman sat lazily watching the activity on the street. He gave Natalia the once-over as she approached but didn’t say a word when she walked on through the door. Inside, a stairway led straight down. Natalia followed it, her anxiety mounting. At the bottom, she emerged in a long, narrow room. A bar ran along one side and a dance floor the other. A disco beat throbbed through the air, with squares of colored light bouncing off the walls. On a row of barstools, a middle-aged man sat beside two blonde girls in tight skirts. Nearby, a bartender cleaned beer glasses, looking up as Natalia walked in. Across the dance floor, three more girls smoked cigarettes, talking amongst themselves. All three watched Natalia as she walked in, though they didn’t seem particularly concerned. Natalia tried to identify them in the dim light but none looked familiar. One was tall, thin and slightly awkward. She stood with arms crossed in a frayed denim skirt and white halter-top, looking over as Natalia took a seat at the bar. A plump girl with short dark hair and heavy makeup commented to her colleagues and looked away. The third girl had an average build, with pink hair and a black leather skirt and top. She barely paid attention to Natalia at all.
When the bartender approached, Natalia merely pointed to a beer tap and ra
ised one finger in the air, afraid to speak lest she give herself away. Even her woman’s fingers might have blown her cover, but the bartender didn’t seem to notice. He filled a half-liter glass and placed it on the bar before her. “Thirty euros,” he said. Natalia’s eyes opened wide but she pulled some of Multinovic’s bills from her pocket and dropped the money on the counter. By the time she turned around, the three girls from across room were on her.
“Hello, mister,” said the plump one in heavily accented English. “Having good time?”
“Buy us a drink?” said the tall one.
Natalia shook her head no, but the girls paid her no heed. “Champagne,” the plump one said to the bartender.
“Nyet!!!” Natalia growled in a deep voice. “I pay for my drink. Not theirs.”
The bartender gave this some consideration before crossing his arms and looking to the girls. The tall one shrugged and the three of them walked back to the other side of the room, ignoring Natalia once again. She took a small sip of beer. At these prices, she’d have to make it last.
Before long, another pair of customers appeared at the bottom of the stairs, taking their places at the far end of the bar. In the next thirty minutes, a few more men dribbled in and more women as well, from a separate door in the back. Some stood along the wall while others sat in chairs arranged for them. A few flirted more directly, hitting the men up for drinks and attention. Nobody danced.
After they’d had a few drinks, some of the men began to choose. One nodded his head to the tall girl, who led him through the door and into the back. A few others followed suit. Natalia knew she had to get back there. Rita might be somewhere behind that door. At the very least, Natalia needed to get one of these girls alone, where she could ask some questions in private. Steeling herself to the task, she stood and walked across the room, stopping in front of the pink-haired girl. Without a word, the girl nodded and led Natalia toward the back. They went on through the door, past a man who sat dozing in a wooden chair. Natalia nearly froze. It was Oleg, the same pale, skinny man who’d guarded the door at the apartment. He jerked his head abruptly when the girl kicked his foot. “Number five,” he mumbled, hardly noticing Natalia at all. They continued past and on down a corridor, Natalia following the girl into one of the rooms.
“One hundred euros.” The girl closed the door behind them. “In advance.”
“I need some information,” Natalia said in Russian, making no attempt this time to disguise her voice.
“What is this?!” The girl moved two steps back, staring at Natalia in awe.
“I just need to ask you some questions,” Natalia continued.
“Who are you? The police?”
“No,” Natalia answered. “I’m not the police.”
“I’m registered, you can check for yourself.”
“I told you, I’m not the police! I’m looking for another girl. A girl named Rita. Do you know her?”
“Of course I know Rita. I know three girls named Rita.”
“This Rita is new. She would have just arrived within the last few days.”
“Why are you bothering me about it?” The girl was growing angry.
“I need some help. Please. Have you seen her?”
“You’re going to get me into trouble.” The girl moved toward the door.
“Rita is my sister!” Natalia pleaded. “Please! She’s only sixteen!”
The girl stopped and crossed her arms. “You owe me one hundred euros. Pay up or I’ll call security.”
Natalia dug the money from her pocket. “Why won’t you help me?”
The girl snatched the bills from Natalia’s fingers and stuck it in her bra, folding her arms once again. “Why should I?”
“Why are you here?”
“Because all the good jobs were taken. Why do you think?”
“My sister was kidnapped by these people. She was stolen right out of our home. They shot my father dead, right in the front of her.”
“Then you know what they’d do to me if they hear us talking!”
“All I need is some information…” Natalia implored her. “Is there anything you can tell me? Anything at all? I’ll pay you, if that’s what you want!”
“Shh! Quiet!” The girl paused, weighing her guilt against the consequences of being caught. “Tomorrow. Be at the Laleli tram stop at noon. I’ll talk to you then.”
“You promise?”
“I’m not promising anything.” The girl reached for the door handle and bolted out of the room. Natalia followed, past an oblivious Oleg and on into the disco. She took one last look at the other girls, scanning unsuccessfully for familiar faces. She cast her eyes along the bar, hoping for a sight of Zigic himself, but the man was nowhere to be seen. For now there was nothing left to do. She walked back up the stairs, shuddering as she made it safely to the street.
Natalia walked half a block and found a place to sit in the stairway of an apartment building. She backed up into the shadows to watch and wait. From here at least she could see the entrance to The Blue Room. If Zigic arrived, she’d know. She could also watch the girls on the street, and the touts wandering up and back, trolling for business. If she was observant, perhaps she’d pick up some clues; maybe spot some of Zigic’s men coming from one of the apartment buildings up and down the block. She settled in to wait with a back against the wall. The longer she sat, though, the harder it was to fight off her exhaustion. Her eyes dipped closed. Her body slumped to one side. Consciousness ebbed… Just before she toppled over, Natalia jerked herself awake, sitting straight and tall. She tried to revive herself, shaking her head back and forth and then focusing on the comings and goings on the sidewalk below. Minutes later, she was nodding off again. It was no use. Natalia struggled to her feet and stumbled back in the direction of her hotel. She would get some desperately-needed sleep and then meet the pink-haired girl at the tram stop the following day. Natalia hadn’t found Rita yet, but at least she was making some progress. That was what she tried to tell herself, anyway.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
After a fitful night of sleep, Natalia sat on a bench at the tram stop, rocking nervously back and forth. The cars came and went, passengers hopping on and off, going about their daily lives with no conception of this underbelly of existence in which she and Rita were trapped. Natalia looked at her watch. It was already ten minutes past noon. She had a sinking feeling. The girl wasn’t coming. There was no reason Natalia should have expected her to, yet the disappointment went straight to her core. Days were passing and she seemed no closer to finding her sister at all. This connection with the pink-haired girl was looking like just another dead end. But then she saw another girl approaching. Someone familiar, coming straight toward her along the platform. This girl had blond hair, long and straight. She wore a white leather skirt and matching jacket with strappy high-heeled shoes. Could it be?
“Hello, Natalia.” The girl stood before her. “I thought it must be you.”
“Helena!” Natalia was aghast as she looked her old acquaintance up and down. “You’re still working for him?!”
“I paid off my debts. I earn good money now,” said Helena. “Tanya was right about one thing. I guess you get used to it.”
“What about your modeling? What about Milan? And Paris?”
“I didn’t come here for a lecture.” Helena’s cheeks turned red.
“It’s not a lecture, Helena! I thought you had plans?”
“Plans change.”
“What about your fiancé? Don’t you want to get married? What about your future?”
“Natalia, if you keep this up I’ll walk away.”
Natalia swallowed hard. She couldn’t squander this opportunity for a view to the inside. “Why did you come to see me anyway?”
“I heard Irina talking. I knew it must be you. Who else? But I had to see for myself, just to be sure.”
“The girl with the pink hair?”
“You can forget about her, she’s not comin
g. All she wanted to do was get rid of you.”
Natalia no longer cared about Irina. Surely Helena must know something. “You haven’t seen her, have you?” Natalia asked. “My sister, Rita?”
“No. I haven’t seen her.” Helena took a seat on the bench beside Natalia. “But I might have heard a few things.”
“What things?”
“Do you know the name Adnan Kemal?”
“No. Who is he?”
“A very rich man. One of the wealthiest in the country. They say he has a thing for virgins. Apparently Zigic is holding a new girl for him. A virgin. For his birthday.”
“Where is this girl? What do you know about her?!” Natalia couldn’t hide her alarm. This had to be Rita. It must be.
“All I know is that Kemal’s birthday is today. He’s throwing a party at his house. If it is your sister we’re talking about, you’d need a small army to get her out.”
“Where is the house?” Natalia demanded. “Have you seen it?”
“Yes. I was there once. The house is on the Bosporus. On the Asian side.”
“Can you show me?” Natalia pulled Marina’s city map from her pocket and unfolded it across her lap.
“What are you going to do?” Helena was worried.
“Just show me, please?” Natalia begged.
After a moment’s hesitation, Helena looked to the map. “It was somewhere near here,” she pointed. “Not far from the Vanikoy ferry dock. You can see the bridge from his back patio. I don’t know what you’ll do about it, though. Kemal has his own private security force. You can’t just stab one man and get away like you did the last time.”
Russia Girl Page 17