But on the other hand, Rita was distraught figuring her family would find out. The arresting detectives would call home. Her mother and father would arrive at the station to see her dressed like a whore. If that happened, she was finished. She’d never talk her way out of her costume and this dilemma. Now, she may as well go to work in Moscow. She began to cry at the thought of keeping her virginity all these years to lose it as she almost did. I’m only worth $250. In the back of that police car, her fears of mug shots and line-ups became reality and the tears flowed abundantly.
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Bronte and Zhana sat in the same small, dusty room at the station that had confined Bronte. In the last twenty four hours they had passed through enough drama to equal twenty four years of ordeals in marriage together.
‘I’d really like you to come and stay at my place’ Zhana said in a warm relaxed tone. ‘It was very uncomfortable for me to place you in the hotel. You must think I am rude.’
‘Hey that’s cool Zhana… I understand.’
‘Forgive me please, but my place is not modern and it is very small and poor.’
‘Not at all Zhana, I did not give it a second thought. I understand you could not simply have me appear out of the shadows and waltz straight into your life and apartment.’
‘It is not that…’
‘I appreciate you have to think about Willy. If he knew he would worry… and it wouldn’t look good, would it?’
‘No, you are wrong, he would not know about you. Anyway, I have even booked the same hotel for Willy for his next arrival. Truth is I am embarrassed…. I didn’t want you or Willy to see my place. It’s not good… it is very small… very poor. I am ashamed.’ Zhana looked away.
‘Don’t be ashamed, please. Your premises are of no concern to me and if you want the truth, it is I who should be ashamed.’ Zhana looked up at Bronte and raised her eyebrows. Now Bronte looked at the floor.
‘Why do you say that?’ She said.
‘I feel ashamed that I was so easily duped… And ultimately fooled you into this nightmare,’ Bronte said with an air of repentance.
‘It is remarkable. How was it you were not even suspicious of that horrible bitch? Surely there was some alarm bell along the way? I am nothing like Rita’.
‘Zhana, I think that sometimes lonely men don’t want to believe things aren’t on the level…. especially when someone as attractive and young as you makes contact. Maybe I buried my head in the sand rather than consider I might be a stooge…?’
‘You should know a good girl will never ask a relative stranger for money, no matter what has happened. I couldn’t even ask you for internet costs…’
They were suddenly interrupted by a commotion down the hall. Bronte leaned over and pulled the door ajar just in time for them both to get a look at the irate and insolent Alessiya marching with hands cuffed behind, the daughter in trail. Her daughter arrived at the agency just as they were driving off in the white and blue police car. Rather than tell her to go home to grandma, Alessiya simply asked Sasha to stop and pick her up - the actions of a concerned mother. Bronte and Zhana didn’t notice Rita in tow a little further back. More zombie than protestor, she was behaving far better than her mentor. Zhana smiled as if she’d just won first prize in the lotto.
After some time, the detectives arrived to speak with Bronte and Zhana. Sasha, standing in the doorway with legs apart and his hands in his jacket pockets spoke.
‘Mmm, interesting girls… it’s obvious what we’re dealing with, but we only have each party’s words to act on.’
‘We’d like you to attend a round table conference with the two women’ the station chief declared, further undoing his tie.
When the detective opened the interrogation room door the two girls sat at the table, cold, hard and defiant. Rita was chewing gum, probably in an attempt to calm her fragile nerves and look tougher than she was. The room was small and bright and the street lights shone directly through a window with wrought iron bars across it. There was a conference table with six chairs and a large wall cabinet with only a few items on shelves. The building was old and in places, hospital ward green paint was peeling from decaying concrete.
‘The bastard tried to rape me… Look at the bruise on my arm’ Alessiya accused, trying to highlight a bruise near her elbow. It looked more like a bump from the falling bookshelf.
‘He has the shits ‘cos I wouldn’t screw him’ Rita said nastily, pulling at her coat to hide the skimpy schoolgirl outfit she wore. ‘He only wanted me for sex.’
‘Ha. Don’t flatter yourself Rita’ Bronte mocked. On another day she might have looked saucy. Now though, she looked cheap and nasty. Rita spat something back and he guessed it wasn’t ‘how’s your father?’ The two detectives passed comments and for the millionth time in a week, Bronte cursed he couldn’t understand the language.
‘Anyway there are witnesses to his rape attempts’ Alessiya interjected.
‘Oh really, who are they? They were neighbours? What are their names and addresses?’ Zhana said in perfect English, much to Bronte’s surprise.
‘Screw you,’ Alessiya spat back. She knew better than to involve them. ‘Anyway, the only reason I let him in my house in the first place was because we felt badly about the misunderstanding… over the money…for Rita’s nose job.’
‘Ha!! O my god, you bloody lying bitch!’ Zhana blurted, again in English. ‘Where’s the receipt for your nose job Rita?’
‘He wanted me and came onto me. He’s a bastard liar’ Alessiya snarled like a cut snake. ‘The bastard attacked me. He’s lying. Everyone knows women do not attack men’ she said with confidence. Sasha and the station CO laughed. No doubt they’d seen enough men sporting wounds after a domestic dispute.
‘Okay. That’s enough. We’ll leave you three to work out some compensation for the fifteen hundred dollars and make peace, okay?’ The station chief said firmly yet pleasantly. The offer of brokering an armistice deal sounded reasonable though unusual practice Bronte thought. ‘And Zhana, you come with us’ Sasha added. She promptly left the room and closed the door leaving Bronte with the two women. He spoke first,
‘I don’t wish for more trouble. Please Alessiya… Rita… I just want to go home. I really don’t care about the money, but I think you should pay. It belongs to Zhana.’
‘Ha… you think they can make me pay you? You dream,’ Alessiya said harshly. ‘I already checked and you’re no cop… Put it this way, if you paid me I wouldn’t let you kiss my ass, you stupid fool.’
‘I find that hard to believe Alessiya… you offered it free of charge… Maybe you should’ve offered to pay me, which is what my visit was about anyway.
‘Hey, screw you’ she replied promptly, looking at herself in the mirrored backing of the wall cabinet, making sure her mascara had not smeared. ‘You think you can visit a strange country, fly straight in and jam our young women, you idiot?’ As if woken into the present at the mention of young girls, Rita interrupted,
‘And you couldn’t pay me enough to have sex with you.’
‘Tell me about it Rita! You wanted I give you $300 for nothing, so I doubt anyone could pay you enough…’ Bronte snapped. Calming himself, ‘Look girls, this isn’t getting us anywhere…’
‘Nothing will get you anywhere here you asshole, you’re a trouble maker and all because Rita wouldn’t sleep with you… Ha, freaking loser.’ Alessiya looked ready to sprout horns.
‘How dare you, you silly bitch. You know that is not how it all worked.’ He wanted to slap her but he was too tired and sore. Bronte wanted little more than to take a hot bath and sip a cold beer. Had the women known, that would have just about been satisfactory compensation.
‘Nice girl.’
‘Yeah, real charmer. The other one’s a little tart’ Sasha replied.
‘With a big future’ the CO said. The two detectives and Zhana stood observing from behind the interrogation window. The large wall cabinet with the smoked m
irrored back, the glass doors and shelves provided ample perspective of the next room. The strategically placed file binders, odd book, some manila folders and a typewriter did nothing to restrict views of Bronte and the two women. It was an ‘Old KGB trick’ that usually caught people unaware of the surveillance. It was the CO’s idea to leave them alone and see who showed their true colours. Evident the type of girl Alessiya was, they had to give her the benefit of the doubt. It was just possible she was upset, fuming over Bronte’s alleged assault and her subsequent apprehension. Rita on the other hand needed a good smack and sending home to mummy and daddy with a bad report card. A good fright was perhaps the best way to keep her from becoming a regular face around the station and not because she worked as the tea lady. Zhana stood smoking in silence, staring at the street through the outside facing window. She was thinking how manly and handsome Bronte looked in there and what could be, even tonight if she allowed.
‘Doesn’t look like they are solving an awful lot,’ Sasha said lighting up, walking to the window and joining Zhana for a peek of the street with nothing of greater interest than the parked cars. As he exhaled, things got more heated in the interrogation room. Alessiya and Rita had been mumbling something between them before Alessiya said in a malicious, sarcastic tone,
‘So you think that Zhana had no need for a nose job? You like that trunk? Ha! Good, then she does not need the fifteen hundred dollars, you idiot foreigner. She is an ugly bitch and you deserve each other.’
‘Listen Alessiya, you should look at yourself sometime. Maybe I should let you keep the money for cosmetic surgery. You’ll need it in a few years, months maybe… showing me your breasts was not exactly a turn on.’ Bronte barely had the words out of his mouth when a flying woman crashed landed into him. Alessiya came at him swinging her fists so wildly and rapidly, he swore she took off like a bird. Pinned in his chair, he barely did enough to defend himself. He took a punch on the chin before the intervening detectives hauled her off. Rita stood their screaming at Oly, abusing Bronte then screaming at Oly like a cracked record. She’d taken sufficient of Alessiya’s little yellow pills earlier to hold her together, but only just. Sasha ushered Bronte out of the room and back to the first office they’d waited in. Zhana was there holding two coffees. She looked ready to fall apart, nearly spilling his coffee as she presented it.
---------- * * --------------------- * * * ------------------------ * * -----------
By the time they got out of there and back to the car, it was after eight thirty. Bronte and Zhana had completely forgotten about the passenger in the back of Sasha’s Skoda. Tanya waited for more than three and a half hours without a murmur. He wondered how anyone could wait so long and remain in good spirits. He was sure he couldn’t.
‘Bronte, please excuse me if I speak to Zhana alone. It is much easier for me to do this in Russian and she can explain everything to you later,’ Sasha said, acting the gentleman.
Sure, I can appreciate you would’ve done zilch for me if a good looking girl like Zhana wasn’t involved. ‘No problem’ I replied, lying.
For the duration of the journey to the hotel, Sasha and Zhana blabbered on in the front while he sat in silence with Tanya in the back, neither of them sure what topic of conversation most appropriate. Sasha sped from one lane to another, taking liberties his badge bestowed. At the hotel Tanya waited with Sasha in the car. Bronte picked up his suitcase from the baggage room located behind the desk from “Land of the Giants” while Zhana and Dasha exchanged smiles and small talk. He was safe from any leaks in the gossip pipeline, his earlier concern about the morality test unfounded. It was evident Zhana wasn’t the type to mess with fate, least of all use a smart and sultry temptress like her friend as bait. Dasha had simply wanted to get her rocks off without anyone she knew finding out. Bronte in the bar alone after work had been perfect. A clean and respectable stranger in and out of town and her bed was ideal. Like any quality leisure time, it was fun while it lasted. Bronte thanked Dasha with a grin she knew meant more. She was sorry to hear about his fall down a flight of stairs and said with professional charm,
‘Good luck Mr Wake, it was a pleasure having you here. Please come back and stay with us again.’
‘Love to Dasha… the pleasure was all mine.’
---------- * * --------------------- * * * ------------------------ * * -----------
Rita pleaded with the officers not to inform her parents of the trouble she’d landed in. She was willing to do anything to keep them quiet though fortunately for her, she didn’t need to. At 22 years of age her parents weren’t required to get involved. The two women also agreed to leave passport and documents and return to the police station at ten o’clock the next day. Alessiya called her lawyer and asked him to meet them there at ten o’clock sharp. But without paperwork proving the reason Bronte had gone to Alessiya’s apartment, it would only ever be her word against his: Attempted rape versus attempted debt collection. Basically the whole thing was too grey; too damn Russian grey.
Bronte’s injuries constituted common assault, an everyday demeanour for these police but the decision to go weak on busting her was taken after her claims of attempted rape, the location of the incident, the possibility of witnesses and the lack of Bronte’s blessed paperwork. Notwithstanding the obvious interest Sasha had shown towards Zhana, it was a miracle the police helped at all. Of course when they’d let the three loose together in the room full of mirrors with the magic wall cabinet, the whodunit became clearer for all to see.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
‘So you are saying it had nothing to do with me getting bashed? Bronte asked.
‘I’m not saying exactly that…’ Zhana replied.
‘Not to mention abduction… held captive for God knows how long?’ Bronte interrupted.
‘I’m telling you… when you told those cops Alessiya called them Mafia, you told them she mocked their integrity and profession. Then they acted,’ Zhana answered, intently washing and cleaning Bronte’s wounds and scratches. ‘Keep still!’ She demanded.
‘It got personal? Seriously, that did it?’ Leaning forward to inspect the cut above his eye Zhana answered,
‘Bronte, don’t forget you are a foreigner… they thought they should show the Australian that Russian police are not the Mafia.’
‘And they could ruffle the bitch’s feathers in the process…’ Bronte added.
‘Enough to slow her down… they had a point to prove …and…’
‘And Sasha liked you and didn’t like her… Ouch! Careful!’
‘And I was saying… to make her really think about what she’s doing.’ Tanya was cooking and Zhana tasted something she offered on a wooden spoon. She nodded her approval.
‘I mean she can’t just go on swindling forever… can she?’ Bronte asked.
‘Well you are right in one way. She will really think about what she’s doing - and then go on swindling, bigger and brighter, smarter than before’ Zhana said sarcastically. ‘It’s made the bloody bitch wealthy…’ Zhana finished dressing Bronte’s wounds. ‘But she can have it.’ She filled the hand basin from the kettle and slipped behind the curtain to wash.
‘You know Zhana, you shouldn’t think of your place as an embarrassment… It’s home…’
‘Bronte come on… its small and poor… like third world.’
‘Its old world’ Tanya added with a laugh as she placed food on the table.
After eating Bronte washed, returning to find the girls lying across the bed watching TV, though hardly captivated. Zhana lay flat on her stomach, the strong smell of acetone from her nail polish remover indicated her eyes were more on her hands than the screen. The girls wriggled to make room as he plonked himself between them. He and Zhana were beaten emotionally and physically and could find little to cheer about. Tanya seemed unperturbed by any of it, including all the waiting. She was the type who wouldn’t notice if Rita’s wish for the holocaust had come true. She’d have smiled with those enormous green ey
es patiently on her way to oblivion. She was already oblivious to the undesirable.
Bronte was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to lie down and die for about six or seven hours. He ached all over, he was stiff and his head and knuckles throbbed. Yet despite the hurly-burly of everything, he’d already contemplated the nights sleeping arrangements. There was Zhana’s fold out bed and a single sofa at the end of the room that appeared to be Tanya’s, if placing her gear all over it counted for anything. Finding it impossible to keep his eyes open and with no idea where he was supposed to sleep, he’d no sooner decided to ask when Zhana said yawning,
‘You can sleep with me if you promise to be a good boy.’
‘A good boy for love or a good boy for sleep?’
‘Well you certainly can’t be a good boy for love if I need to sleep, can you?’
‘Zhana, I really only want to sleep… I am too tired. I just want to die, not die trying.’
‘Okay. Just keep it in your shorts.’
She was already asleep when Bronte crawled into bed. He thought he’d go out like the light but instead he lay in bed with everything still hurtling through space after the big bang of the last few days. It seemed Cupid intended him to be with Zhana after all, manipulating and stacking all the odds to bring about their miraculous chance meeting. However, the little devil’s timing had been way off. Her fairy workers of romantic endeavour had miscalculated time zones between the two countries. Somehow, they’d left the portal ajar and Willy had ducked through.
Kill Cupid: Internet dating just got dangerous Page 19
