by Eden Sharp
'I'm looking for this girl. Her name's Amber Grigson. I need you to ask around for me. She likes to party and she'll be running out of money fast. She may be pulling tricks.'
Donna rolled her eyes and unlocked a drawer underneath the bureau.
'I'll do my best.'
She shoved the wad of paper into a purse. 'She from round here?'
'Oakland way.'
'You tried the Track?'
'Hopefully it's not come to that.'
Donna shrugged her shoulders. 'She's gotta get into something.'
'Have you seen Chrissie?'
The girl's dead eyes grew colder. 'Chrissie's a dumb bitch.'
'Why do you say that?' McGlynn asked.
'She's doing bukkake. Thinks the money'll make it worthwhile.'
'If you hear from her, let me know okay? Let me know she's all right?'
Donna nodded.
A loud buzzing noise emanated from the restaurant below.
'Time to go,' McGlynn said.
'What the hell's bukkake?' Knox asked.
A wheezing overweight man in his forties met them midway on the stairs and stood aside for them to pass. He threw a quick glance at McGlynn but avoided eye contact with Knox.
'I'll tell you in the car,' she said.
The black four-door sedan looked chunky but was a favorite of law enforcement for a reason. It combined a spacious interior and a comfortable ride with the muscle required to move the beef. He fired up the engine and revved it a couple of times. He saw McGlynn shake her head, but she wasn't able to suppress a smile.
'Take Market and head down to McAllister, there's a garage, I'll direct you when we get there,' McGlynn said.
'What's the Track?' Knox said.
'A place for street walkers in Oakland. Lots of young girls get kidnapped and taken from other parts of the city to be pimped there,' she said.
'So these women are a good source of information for you?'
'They're part of a world most women don't get to see and they're good at getting guys to talk.'
'And that other thing?'
'A Japanese invention.'
'I take it it's not folding paper in creative and exciting new ways,' Knox said.
She sighed. 'It's one girl with several men at the same time. No condoms.'
'Why would a guy wanna do that?'
'You tell me,' she said. 'Most women involved in prostitution don't have choices. It's slavery and the johns are complicit in perpetuating it.'
He shut up. They drove on in silence for a while.
'You know Kelly from the Marine Corps right?' McGlynn said.
'Yeah we were both platoon sergeants for the same company. He also ran the martial arts program, but then you probably know all that.'
'You're very different.'
'I take that as a compliment.'
He turned to look at her.
'So you did a whole lot of checking up on me?'
'Yep.' She held her eyes front. 'Otherwise I wouldn't have even got in the car with you.'
NINE
Angela McGlynn
I directed Knox into the garage entrance on Larkin.
'So this is a good place to leave a car right?' he said.
I did my best to hold a deadpan expression.
'If you can get past the fact that the muggers waiting by the elevators they use for bathrooms are only slightly more polite than the attendants,' I said.
I noted the anxiety on his face and relented. 'It's okay, really.'
A black and white King-American ambulance blasted past us as we walked down the street. I watched Knox's eyes scan every entrance, every alleyway, in a state of hyper-vigilance.
A homeless man in dirty orange pants appeared on the next corner blowing bubbles from a plastic gun up into the air. Each one rose briefly, catching the light before hitting the dirty sidewalk and settling into a filmy slime.
'We've got a couple of blocks to walk,' I said. 'Watch where you step.'
Garbage bags moved off to our left, their tenant a shifting bundle of rags bedding down. It was difficult to make out any distinguishing features or guess at an age or gender.
North east of City Hall, bounded by Market to the south, Van Ness to the west, Post to the north and Powell to the east, an unholy trinity had taken up residence: crime, drugs, and prostitution.
In the Loin, it might not be tender but everything was available and cheap to rent. The jetsam of lost human beings washed up here was akin to the old Hibernia Bank building, once purposeful and bright but now abandoned, all former glory dimmed and empty inside.
Knox's posture stiffened slightly. Five men, ranging young to old, were sitting outside a supported housing project on upturned boxes like a private social club for members only. The ends of blunts or pipes flared and disappeared as they toked away then crashed and burned.
A block to our right, away from the economy half of the neighborhood, hipsters and tourists waited in line for a club.
Dim outlines and shapes appeared up ahead as we crossed onto Turk. Low lying snatches of conversation carried on the air, a dangerous undertow of menace coming from the pimps standing in the shadows where under-dressed girls ranged in and out of doorways into the glare of streetlight whenever a car slowed.
A neon glow advertised a liquor store in letters four feet high. Above it was a less obtrusive sign for a hotel. I turned into its entrance.
'Less chance of running into the pimps or dealers in here,' I said. 'Safer than on the street.'
Knox nodded and followed me inside down a narrow lobby towards a bored looking albino guy wearing large horn-rimmed glasses. He directed his attention to Knox.
'You want the full hour or just a half?' he said in an unexpectedly feminine voice.
I pushed a twenty through the slot. 'We don't need a room.'
The man rolled his eyes and waved us on.
The elevator was no bigger than a phone booth so I exited into a narrow gray metal stairwell and started to climb. Knox stayed close behind.
'Let's go and see who we can have a chat with on their way back out,' I said. 'Wednesday was welfare check day so there should still be plenty of activity.'
Two was quiet so I decided to head on up to three. A couple of doors slammed and noises drifted off inside. A trace of grass smoke hung in the air. Striped blue wallpaper lined the corridors. The carpet gave a slight crunch under foot. Fake laughter came from up ahead.
I turned right and saw a girl with a blue-black wig and a guy in a plaid shirt and baseball cap coming towards us. The plaid guy stopped when he saw us approaching and detached himself, scurrying off in the opposite direction.
The girl slunk forwards. I blocked the narrow passage forcing her to a halt.
'What do you want?' she asked, her eyes windowless but still glazed.
I took out a picture of Amber Grigson along with my card and a hundred dollar bill.
'Thought you might be interested in earning a little extra.'
I had her attention. Her eyes flicked towards the money.
'Talk to the other girls, see if anyone has seen anything or knows anything about this girl, then call me.'
I ripped the hundred in two and handed over one of the pieces.
'Someone knows something, we can cruise round in the car, look like we're negotiating. I get some interest, you get the other half. They'll get a cut too if I find her.'
The girl nodded, pointed half-heartedly toward the exit.
'I better go or he'll be getting mad.'
I stepped to one side to let her pass. Knox did the same. She trotted off and disappeared round the corner.
'Let's see who else is about,' I said.
We walked a circuit taking random turns and came to a dead end. No fire escape. Probably no building regulations at all. So we had to turn back down the maze of corridors to head back the way we had come.
'A hundred's gotta be a good incentive in a discount place like this,' Knox said.
'
If not, I've got more than fifty percent of it, so I can exchange my half in a bank,' I said.
A door at the far end opened and an old Hispanic guy stumbled out, leaving the door ajar by a couple of inches. He disappeared down the corridor. I went over, knocked once, inched it open wider and peered in. A young Latina pulled a crumpled dress down over her thighs and screamed something in Spanish.
I held up a hand to Knox, went in alone and closed the door behind me.
'Lo siento chica,' I said and held out another hundred. I'm sorry.
The girl smoothed down her hair before placing both hands on her hips.
'Qué quiere?' What do you want?
I took out another photo. My Spanish didn't stretch as far as I would have liked but I winged it and hoped for the best.
'This girl is missing. I'm trying to find her. Make sure she's okay.'
The girl glanced from the picture to the hundred and back again.
'La rubia?' The blond?
I nodded.
'Si.' Yes. She held out her hand for the money.
'Dondé?' Where?
I put my arm behind my back obscuring the bill from view.
The Latina went for her purse on the bed, moving fast. Fast enough to make me react.
My hand shot into the small of my back and on to the grip of my pistol, but the girl had reached for a photo of her own. She held it out. The shot showed a baby boy.
'Mira mi amor, mi hijo.' Look at my love, my son.
She sat down on the edge of the bed and started to cry. I was annoyed by the tired theatrics but handed the hundred to her anyway.
We were both startled by hammering on the door.
'You okay in there?'
The Latina leapt to her feet.
'Es vale.' It's okay. I opened the door.
Knox looked anxious, maybe a little pissed. The Latina stared at him then scooted past and shot off down the corridor.
'I didn't like leaving you alone in there,' Knox said.
'It's okay I'm fully grown.'
I walked past him. Felt his gaze on my back. A couple of seconds later he followed on behind.
Up ahead two black guys rounded the corner walking towards us. One went from zoned out to purposefully looking in our direction, an opinion forming fast. He took out a cell phone, backed up leisurely against the wall and began to talk, his eyes still on us. The other waited next to him. Both were sweating, wired from the crack pipe. Everything slowed down as something beeped in my brain.
'This is bad,' I said under my breath.
'I'm on it,' Knox said from behind me.
He grabbed my wrist and took an unchartered hallway to our left. Our only option besides confrontation. Continuing ahead meant turning into another blind corner. I became aware of footsteps behind us, closing in. Which was clumsy. Had they fallen into step with us, they would have gained an advantage.
I knew they'd be armed and we needed to minimize any threat of escalation.
'Let's take their focus off me,' I said.
'Got it,' Knox said.
He grabbed me by the back of the neck and manhandled me in front of him, pushing me round the corner which was smart. Give them pause to think. Were we a pissed off john and unrepresented hooker or was I being arrested in which case back-up would likely be near?
Two more figures emerged into the space ahead. Large bulks of brightly-colored sportswear advanced towards us in a rapidly shifting situation until we were blocked either way, trapped in the middle.
Then Knox pushed me away hard. I bounced off the wall and ended up on the floor.
Another smart move. I lay there crouching and cowered and waiting for an opening. No longer any kind of threat as far as they were concerned.
Knox didn't wait for speeches, he just got in close and personal with the biggest guy, slugging him using his whole body weight. He stayed inside the man’s guard as he flailed about, using the confined space to his advantage. Nice. When your opponent's got a long reach, infighting's going to take them all the way out of their comfort zone.
The others piled in, shouting and cursing. I took a deep breath, tensed my muscles and exploded up and under one of them. His groin absorbed the full force of the blow. He went down fast.
A pair of ripped arms bear-gripped me from behind. I was aware of a litany of obscenities but bitch was the only word I could make out.
I pinned his arms hard against my chest and sank straight down like a stone. His center of gravity gave him nowhere else to go but forwards over the top of my back. Without arms to break his fall, he hit the floor face first. I jumped up and landed a few kicks at the three bodies on the ground.
Knox was using the fourth guy's head like a pinball against the narrow walls. With one hand on the back of the guy's jacket and the other on the waistband of his pants, he threw him on to the pile like discarded garbage.
He grabbed my wrist again and we ran down the corridor, out into a stairwell.
I broke free and we sprinted, one after the other, clattering down three steps at a time carried by momentum and adrenaline. We didn't stop until we were a block away.
We both stood bent forward, our hands resting on thighs, in silence apart from labored breathing. Both of us waited for the comedown, for the pain sensors to switch back on, for the blood to rush back into our extremities, for the full-on nausea of a body at rest but awash with cortisol.
'I could use a drink,' I said, when I caught my breath.
'Great idea,' Knox said.
I took in a deep lungful of air.
'I know a good place,' I said.
TEN
We drove three blocks north of Geary Street and found a meter. Sounds of live music came from a tavern a few doors up. I walked past to a quieter part of the street.
The bar had no name or anything to indicate it was a commercial premises, just an unmarked doorway leading into a downstairs basement. It was empty apart from a couple of guys sitting at stools along the bar. Booth seating formed the other three sides of a small square.
A black man called Dwayne greeted me with a lisp as I reached the bottom of the stairs. The only part of the place clearly framed by light. After a quick glance the other customers kept their eyes down, paying no attention.
'Not seen you for a while,' he said. 'Jack?'
I nodded and looked at Knox for a response.
'And a beer on the side,' he said.
We took over a booth on the far side of the room, facing the door.
'Private kind of place,' he said.
'Quiet. Apart from the odd Friday night when jerks in suits stumble across it.'
Dwayne carried the drinks over on a black rubberized tray. Two glasses contained large shots of bourbon plus a bottle of beer for Knox and a bottle of Coke on the side for me.
I was thirsty so I gulped a mouthful from the neck of the bottle then poured the rest into the glass and took a good slug of that too. As far as I was concerned your first drink should be like your first punch. It needed to count.
I looked over at Knox. 'Good teamwork back there,' I said.
'Are you kidding? That was probably the smoothest take down of four assholes you could ever wish to be involved in,' he said.
'Unfit and uncoordinated assholes but still unpredictable. Could easily have gone a different way.'
'You were awesome,' he said.
'For a girl?'
He shook his head. 'I didn't say that. Most martial arts fighting is choreography. You're a combatant.'
He took a hit of bourbon. Tipped the beer down his throat to follow. He was staring at me.
'What else don't I know about you?'
Now with the questions. I shrugged, continued facing forward.
'You learned God knows what about me from background checks. How's that fair?'
I smiled. 'It isn't.'
He took another long slug of beer, continued staring.
'I don't like labels,' I said. 'Or assumptions. I like to go on my own experienc
e of people, not what I'm told about them.' I glanced at him briefly. 'You do that, we'll get along fine.'
'So how did you end up as a PI, I mean it's not something they teach in college right?'
I hated questions. Hated talking about myself. Better to give him enough to be satisfied with but not so much that it led to further inquiry.
'I studied psychology because I'm interested in what makes people tick.'
I stared at him then, letting the pause ride. He didn't make any unconscious move to touch his head in a throwaway gesture that signaled discomfort like most people would have. He held my gaze instead.
'But my major was in criminology. Jeff does some training for the academy. One of the cops was talking about a guy who'd retired and started an agency. I went to work as his trainee for three years and got licensed myself. Then I set up with Jeff. He manages things.'
Dwayne came over with refills as soon as our glasses were empty. He left the bourbon bottle on the table. That's why I loved the place. They knew how to take money off you. They gave you exactly what you wanted whenever you wanted it.
Knox settled back into the seating. 'I really like this place. What's it called?'
'No name. Literally. Actually they answer the phone Sin Nombre which means the same thing in Spanish.'
He looked over at me again. 'So what do we do next?'
I felt myself relax a little.
'I have a friend, an outreach worker, distributing pictures along with the condoms. We'll see what happens.'
'This kid's parents, they must be worried. I mean you'd be out of your mind right?'
I refilled my glass and sank half of it. Felt its warmth spread through me.
'There is no mother. Seems she moved to Australia with a boyfriend just before the girl hit puberty. Great timing.'
'What's the father like? Does he care?'
'He says all the right things. Only Amber can answer that question.'
'Every young girl should have someone looking out for them. Keep them safe from the likes of Kelly,' Knox said.
Good sense of humor.
