The Greeks of Beaubien Street

by Jenkins, Suzanne

  Tonight, Mike was introducing her to his friend Soud. He talked non-stop about her; she was an agent for the biggest modeling agency in the U.S. Gretchen didn’t have a portfolio, but Mike told her not to worry; they would arrange for her photos. It wouldn’t cost her anything, either.

  Mike liked it that her dad was so strict. She asked if her curfew would be a hindrance to meeting a big agent but Mike said no; they were going to meet at the Fairlane in the early evening and Soud would see Gretchen in the room she rented for her visit. She was in Dearborn for the weekend and had a family function to attend Saturday. Gretchen liked how the Lebanese were so tightly knit. She didn’t have any family besides her mom and dad.

  Gretchen got home at seven and hurried through her morning routine; she pulled into the bank parking lot at 7:59 sharp. The day went quickly. After work, she rushed home to get ready for her date. She wore exactly what Mike said she should wear: skinny jeans, black high heels, and a crisp, white sleeveless blouse. Her mother was worried she would get cold later, so she took a black sweater along, just in case. She didn’t tell her parents about Soud; they would expect too much explanation and she found it was better to keep things simple.

  Mike drove to Fairlane. He walked with her to the hotel room number that Soud had given him. She answered the door at the first knock. Mike introduced the women. Soud made a point of looking Gretchen up and down, smiling.

  “Good job, Mikey!” she said. “You can still pick the women!” Gretchen was pleased that Soud was happy with her. “Come in, Gretchen.” Soud walked over to a seating area next to a window overlooking Michigan Avenue. “Have a seat,” she said pointing to the sofa. It was a busy Friday night; traffic was bumper to bumper. The cars’ red taillights glowed in the darkness. It had just started to rain, a light mist that made the lights reflect on the black pavement. Soud made a show of getting an application out of a briefcase that was on the floor next to the couch. She walked over to Gretchen and gave her the application and a pen.

  “If you don’t mind, fill this out, will you? We can get right down to the interview.” Gretchen looked at the application and an alarm bell went off in her head. It was a copy of a copy, fuzzy type and faded, of a generic job application. Gretchen was sure Mike had used the words ‘biggest modeling agency’ when he described the group Soud was affiliated with. She was suddenly frightened, but she knew that Mike would be annoyed if she questioned them now. Could this possibly be a scam? She took a deep breath and decided not to worry, to just go with the flow. She could trust Mike, she was sure of it. He seemed to have an old world respect for her, a gentlemanly honor. Certainly, he wouldn’t involve her in anything shady. She began to fill the form out. Soud kept up a steady banter of conversation.

  “My company is a combination modeling agency/escort service. When our clients come into the city they may need a companion to attend a special event or a date for an evening out.” Gretchen was listening to Soud, but what she was saying wasn’t registering. Why would Mike want me to date other men? Mike saw her expression, a combination of surprise with a little fear mixed in.

  “Let’s have a drink,” Mike interrupted, and Soud agreed; they opened the little refrigerator and got bottles out. He got Gretchen a diet Coke, poured it into an ice-filled glass, and handed it to her. She took the glass and sipped the cold, refreshing soda, then put the glass down. She either had to trust Mike or leave. Continuing to fill out the application, she came to a place where it asked for a short synopsis of why she thought she should be hired. She answered honestly, “I would be an asset to this company.” She’d remember that simple statement later and laugh out loud. After she finished she gave the application to Soud and picked up her glass for another drink. She preferred artificially sweetened soda, but this one had a funny after-taste. She took another sip and confirmed that she didn’t like it, putting the glass down.

  “What’s wrong with your pop?” Mike asked.

  “I guess it’s the sweetener,” Gretchen said, wrinkling her nose. Mike got up and got another out of the refrigerator, taking it into the bathroom to get another glass. He brought it back, this time without the ice. He poured just a half glass. She sipped it and said it tasted better. Soud and Mike were speaking Lebanese together. Gretchen felt removed from the conversation. She glanced out the window to look at traffic again, her eyes suddenly feeling tired. She had been up since six and had nothing to eat all day. She wondered if this was the extent of the interview and if they would think she was rude if she just lay her head back on the chair and close her eyes for a moment.

  When she woke up, she was laying on a bed. She looked around; this was not the same hotel room where she had her interview with Soud and Mike. She was alone. The sheet and blanket fell away as she struggled to sit up, realizing she was naked. It was dark in the room. She ripped the sheet off the bed and wrapped up in it, then stumbled to the window. Where am I? Then she saw it; a sign for the Athenium Hotel several blocks away. She was in Detroit, close to Greektown. How did she get here? She fought to think while snapshots of the evening flashed in her mind; Mike, Soud, her mom and dad. She turned around to look at the nightstand; the clock said one. It was after midnight. Her parents would be so worried. The unfamiliar hotel and absence of any memory frightened her. Although naked, in a strange hotel room didn’t leave much to the imagination. She had to find her clothes and get out of there.

  Where is Mike? Suddenly, she heard voices coming from the other side of the door leading to the room next to hers: she recognized Soud’s voice. She wanted to run to the bathroom to hide, but knew that was futile; where were her damn clothes? She pulled the sheet tighter around her body and started looking around the room. She opened the closet, but it was too dark to see and she didn’t want to turn the light on in case they were watching for it from the other room. She went to the phone on the night table and picked it up; it was dead. She pulled on the cord and it was loose; she felt to the end of the cord and found the plug. She would have to turn on the light to plug the phone in. The minutes were ticking away. As she reached for the switch, the door to the next room opened and light flooded in. The woman she knew as Soud entered with a strange man.

  “Well, well, well! You’re finally up, you lazy girl!” Soud said.

  “Where am I? What happened?” Gretchen yelled this out, fright increasing by the second. Soud came to her and grabbed her arm, the man close behind.

  “Don’t raise your voice,” she growled. She pulled her toward the bathroom. “Stay out here, please,” she said to the man. Keeping her grip on Gretchen’s arm, she shoved her into the bathroom and closed the door. Gretchen was whimpering and begging Soud to tell her what was going to happen to her. Soud bent down and turned the water on in the bathtub.

  “You’ll be fine, Gretchen! Part of your responsibilities will be working as an escort, as I explained. But we’re running late and I don’t have time to go into everything. This guy is one of our best clients; he’s loaded and he’s a big teddy bear. You’ll make more money tonight than you made in a month at the bank. We have to hurry. You’re going to shower first,” Soud said. She turned to look at Gretchen, a smile plastered across her face. “If you want to model, you have to pay your dues. That man in there? He’s taking you to the casino and then to breakfast. He has huge contacts in the New York modeling circuit. You are pretty, but face it, so are a million other girls. It won’t hurt to have the connections.” She stuck her hand in the stream of water to check the temperature. “Get in. Don’t get your hair wet.” Gretchen did as she was told. Soud continued telling her the facts about what she was getting into. “You aren’t required to have sex with the men, but it will only help you. Bequil probably won’t try anything, but trust me: he’d be worth it. If you end up with him your career is set big time.”

  Gretchen began to weep silently, as much from the side effects of the Rohypnol as from terror. Soud was on the other side of the shower curtain telling her to hurry up. Gretchen finished washing as So
ud reached in, shut the water off, and pulled back the curtain. She kept her eyes averted so that Soud wouldn’t see the tears. She had a glass of orange juice, or something orange colored, and demanded Gretchen drink it. It tasted bitter. Gretchen was now certain that she had been drugged earlier and that she was being drugged now.

  “Dry off,” Soud said as she opened the door to the room. “Bequil,” she said to the man, “hand me that satchel there on the chair.” The man did as he was told. Soud brought it into the bathroom and set it on the counter. “Sit down, “she said, pointing to a bench in front of the mirror. She pulled a large bag of makeup out of the satchel: jars of color, powders, and tubes large and small, brushes, cotton balls. She pulled Gretchen’s hair up and clipped it out of the way. Soud began applying makeup to Gretchen’s face; false eyelashes, heavy eye shadow, glossy lipstick. Her touch was gentle and expert. She transformed Gretchen from an attractive, fresh young woman into a showgirl.

  “You are so flat chested,” she said, pointing to Gretchen’s youthful breasts. She dug further in the satchel and brought out a padded bra. “Put this on.” Gretchen did as she was told. Soud left the room for a moment to pull a garment bag out of the closet. She laid it across the counter and unzipped it. It held a white, full-length sheath, covered in crystal bugle beads. It was beautiful.

  “What about pants?” Gretchen asked. Soud laughed.

  “You won’t need them,” she replied. She unzipped the dress and motioned for Gretchen to step into it. It fit her perfectly. Soud reached up and pulled the clip out Gretchen’s hair. It fell around her shoulders in waves. She looked like a movie star. “Put these on,” she said, handing Gretchen a shoebox, a pair of silver strappy sandals inside. They were too big.

  “Keep a smile on your face,” Soud said. “You have your future at stake. If you play your cards right, you will have a life to be envied. But you can leave at any time, so don’t try pulling the you forced me card. No one kidnapped you.” Gretchen betrayed herself for the first of many times that weekend; she smiled a sincere smile. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as it sounded. It never occurred to her to refuse or simply leave. If she could, she would contact her mother and father so they wouldn’t worry. She looked at herself in the mirror; she was stunning. And she was high. She watched her reflection as it appeared to levitate. She was afraid she would faint.

  “I feel dizzy,” she told Soud.

  “Well knock it off,” Soud replied. “If you faint you’ll ruin the dress.” Gretchen struggled to maintain her balance as she was lead out of the steamy bathroom by Soud. She held Gretchen’s hand up high, as though she were a queen. The cool bedroom felt marvelous. The big shoes made it difficult to walk without swaying. The man, Bequil, whistled when he saw Gretchen. He walked up to her, taking her hand from Soud’s and bringing it to his lips, kissing it.

  “You are truly lovely,” he said to her. Soud had a smile on her face. This would be a lucrative weekend! She had six women working for her and now, Gretchen. Her other girls were ethnic; Gretchen would fill a void in her business. A pretty, white, American girl was always in demand. And, it was already clear to Soud that she would be a willing asset to the business.

  “Bequil, Gretchen,” Soud said, introducing them. Bequil put his arm out for Gretchen to take. She turned her head to look at Soud. Soud noticed her eyes; glazed over, unfocused. She wouldn’t give him any trouble. The couple left the hotel room for the casino. Soud knew it was risky to allow her to go out so soon. If she came to her senses and reported Soud to the authorities, they would test her blood and find evidence of the drugs. She should be taking Gretchen back to New York. But, she had business in Detroit tomorrow and Mike said tonight was the only time he had available to bring her over. Once Soud got her back to Manhattan, Gretchen would see the fabulous apartment she would have, the lavish lifestyle. She’d work for it, but it would be worth it. If she chose not to stay, they would send her home.

  Bequil and Gretchen took the elevator down to the ground floor. There was a limo waiting for them, even though the casino was less than five blocks from the hotel. Gretchen would never be able to walk that far in the shoes and felt grateful for the car. She saw everything around her in a haze; nothing made any sense. She didn’t feel she was in danger or that she should run away from this strange man or scream for help. There were policemen all over the place, so it would be easy to get away if she wanted. She looked up at the black, star-spangled sky. Across the river, the lights of Windsor sparkled. What day was it? She really didn’t care, just curious. She loved to be dressed up, to have everyone looking at her like she was a movie star. As she and her companion entered the casino, heads turned interested, but little more. It was full of middle aged and older people, playing the slot machines. This wasn’t Las Vegas.

  Chapter 11

  After the Parkers left, Jill made copies of Gretchen’s picture to distribute among the hotel workers. She pulled up to the alleyway where Gretchen’s body was discovered, parking the cruiser out of view of the hotel. As she walked down the alley, Jill noted the curious observers watching them from the dock. Who was on duty last night? She would start interviewing now. Jill, along with a pair of uniformed officers, entered the back entrance of the hotel and located the manager. He was an old hand at dealing with investigating police officers; the hotel was no stranger to calamity.

  An unused conference room at the end of a corridor would be set aside for interviews. The uniformed officers would gather information about the employees, while Jill would speak with them individually. For now, the questioning would be limited to having heard or seen anything unusual.

  They hit pay dirt immediately. A young housekeeper had to call a plumber in to room three forty-six because the bathtub drain was stopped up with what looked like liver. The plumber was still in the building, and while they waited for him, Jill called CSI to come in; they may have found the original location of the homicide.

  The head plumber had to dismantle the drain in the bathtub because it was full of what turned out to be blood clots, not liver. He had a bucket of rags full of the gore; he and the maintenance supervisor had just put a call into the precinct to report the finding.

  For the next two hours, Jill interviewed each of the hotel employees who were on duty during the hours that Sam Wasserman said Gretchen Parker most likely died. She’d made tremendous progress and was energized for it. But a strange pall overtook her as she left the hotel and began to walk toward her cruiser. By the time she slid behind the wheel, she knew she had to do something meaningful for her own wellbeing before she could move forward in the case. She made the quick trip to her apartment, locking the car and running up the stairs to her door. She locked it behind her and went to her altar and lit a white candle. Her ancestors’ possessions lined the simple table she used: her grandmother’s small icon in a gilt frame, a ceramic owl, a leaded crystal paperweight with the outline of a deer engraved in the bottom of it that had belonged to her Papou, her mother’s wedding ring, and a picture of her father when he was a child wearing short pants. She stood in front of the altar with her eyes closed, and took in ten deep breaths. She didn’t have to say a word. At the tenth breath, whatever anxiety or angst had tried to invade her was gone. Ready to tackle the rest of the work before her, she blew out the candle, remembering her grandmother had explained that white was the color of new beginnings and spiritual protection. Jill suddenly knew that this case of the murdered woman was permeated with more evil than the usual murder she investigated, that she needed to keep that veil of protection over her and Albert while they worked toward solving it. She closed her eyes again and whispered, “Thank you, Gigi.”

  Chapter 12

  Jacob Parker was a retired policeman. His late father had been a policeman as had his father before him. But where his father and grandfather were servants of the community, Jacob Parker was a hate-filled bigot. He hated the way the city changed from a white, elitist town to an ethnically diverse city. Irrationally,
he hated Dearborn being on the boundary of Detroit. He was asked by a few cronies, some who moved out of the city years before, why he stayed.

  “My family made this town! There’s been a Parker here since 1804,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.” His wife hated it, too. Originally from Detroit, she wanted to go back. She loved to get on a bus and go wherever she pleased. Here in Dearborn, she had to take the car. And taking the car meant subjecting herself to the scrutiny of her husband. How many miles did you drive, how’d this ding get on the front bumper, why is there a new scratch on the door? He detailed their cars once a month and now their daughter Gretchen was just as obsessed with hers.

  Gretchen’s disappearance was the realization of a recurring nightmare. Over and over Jacob saw her walk off with someone; her head turned looking back, smiling at him. He would never forget walking into the hospital room the day she was born. Marianne sat up in bed with a bow in her hair, a bed jacket on for God’s sake and the newborn in her arms. She looked just like a photo from the 1940’s. He was besotted. He stood over them, his police uniform immaculate, twisting his cap in his hands, and the tears started to roll down his cheeks. Oh my God, he thought, how am I going to protect this little human life? He reached down to touch her tiny fist. It immediately unfurled and grasped his finger. The infant opened her eyes and searched around until she found her father. She did not take her eyes off him. Marianne was frightened.

  “I’ve never known a baby to do that before! Look at her!” She wouldn’t let go of Jacob’s finger. His daughter mesmerized him. They looked at each other until the baby tired of it and started rooting around for food. It was feeding time. But she’d made her point, and her father would become her slave.