by Steve Lee
While prostitution was legal, kidnapping a woman and imprisoning her in a brothel certainly wasn’t. At least now, if Tess wanted their help, the police would have to get involved.
“You see. Can do nothing.” Blondie waved them away. “Now you know. Now you go.”
Tess slapped her hand down on the table. “We’re not going anywhere until we get Elena’s daughter back. Will you help us?”
Blondie studied Tess, as if deciding if she could trust her.
Tess needed to secure her help – she was the best lead they had. “If you’re worried about your safety, I can protect you.”
Arching an eyebrow, Blondie snickered. “You?”
At five feet seven inches, Tess was taller than most women, but she could see how that alone would mean nothing to someone who hadn’t seen her in action. “So the police. We can go to the police.”
Blondie leaned toward Tess. “Say me. In your country, police all good and don’t take money? Or sometime bad man do bad thing and police do nothing?”
Tess had no comeback for cold hard fact. The only reason organized crime existed was because the crime bosses knew exactly whose palms to grease to remain untouchable.
Blondie nodded at Tess’s silence and leaned back in her chair.
Her voice wavering, Elena said something in Polish. Tears streamed down her cheeks,
Blondie looked at her coldly, but said nothing.
Tess peeled off some notes from the roll in her pocket and offered the woman two hundred zlotys. Fifty bucks seemed a fair price for a little information. “We need to find this man.”
With a bored expression, Blondie raised an eyebrow at Tess again.
Altogether, Tess had around six hundred zlotys and a couple of hundred dollars she always kept on her for emergencies. The haul totaling around three hundred and fifty bucks, she bundled up all the notes and held them out to the woman.
“Here. There’s nearly two thousand zlotys. It’s yours.”
“I sorry, but your daughter you no see again. Best you accept.”
Without making any sound, Elena sobbed, her whole body juddering as if she was having a fit.
Tess could drag Blondie down an alley and beat the information out of her, or she could appeal to her compassion. While both strategies worked, the results differed person to person. The secret was in judging which strategy to use with which individual.
Tess leaned over to Blondie. “As you can tell, Elena is very sick. Every day she has to fight to stay alive. Even so, she’s so sick she could die today. Or she could die tomorrow. Or, if she’s really, really lucky, she could live this week, maybe even next week too, and die then. But if you don’t help her find her daughter, she’s going to die right this second right in front of you.”
And Elena would die. Not physically. But in every other way possible.
Blondie locked eyes with Tess, then swung her attention to Elena. She huffed, then screwed up her face for a moment, obviously deep in thought.
Finally, Blondie said, “I don’t know name.”
“Okay, so you don’t know the man’s name. But you do know what he looks like, don’t you?”
She shrugged the way someone shrugged when they couldn’t be bothered doing something without that little bit of extra coaxing.
Tess stood and beckoned Blondie. “Come with me, please.”
Blondie sighed as if this was the most uninteresting day she’d ever known, but she got up. As did Elena.
Tess led them down the street, back toward the square.
“Tess, where are we going?” asked Elena, her cheeks wet, eyes red.
“The square.”
“Why? What good is that going to do?”
“You know you told me I could tell you to shut the hell up.”
“Yes?”
Tess shot her a sideways glance.
“Oh. Okay. Sorry.”
Back into the square, Tess turned to Blondie. With a sweep of her arm, she gestured to all the tourists and locals swarming the place. “Point to the man who looks most like the one who takes women.”
Blondie frowned. “But it not right man.”
“I know. Just find a man who looks like him.”
Blowing out a weary breath, Blondie sauntered further into the square shaking her head. Quietly, Tess and Elena walked a few paces behind.
Turning this way and that, Blondie panned her gaze from man to man to man. After a couple of minutes, she pointed at a man standing behind an outdoor stall which burst with a rainbow of flowers. “Him. But shorter hair. Younger. Smaller nose.”
Wanting to be sure, Tess pointed. “The man selling flowers?”
“Yes. I go now?”
Walking toward the man, Tess turned back. “No. Please wait there.” She pointed at Elena. “Don’t let her go anywhere, Elena.”
Tess studied the flower seller. A very attractive man, he was forty-ish, had wavy brown hair hanging over his collar, a square-jawed face, and gentle eyes. With his business being in the main tourist area, there was a good chance he’d speak English. Checking that was the first job. And the easy part.
She sauntered over, glancing sheepishly at the gray cobbles when he caught her eye.
“Czy mowi pan po angielsku?” she asked.
He answered her question by replying in English. “Of course. Which flowers would you like, please?”
Great. That would make this a lot easier.
Tess smiled coyly. “Well… it’s not really flowers I want” – she glanced down, shuffling from foot to foot – “but, er, a small favor.”
“A favor?”
“My best friend at home is always teasing me because she has a handsome boyfriend and I don’t.”
“You don’t? No!”
“I just can’t find the right guy.” Tess shrugged as if the situation was hopeless. “But if you don’t mind me saying, you’re the most handsome man I’ve seen in Krakow.”
Feigning embarrassment, but obviously delighted, he waved his hands at her and turned away. “Please, no. Twenty years ago… hmmm… maybe.”
“Really. The most handsome man I’ve seen.”
“Then, thank you. Now, what is this favor?” He wagged his finger and laughed. “I hope not for borrow money, because rich men no sell flowers.”
“No. Not money. I just want to make my friend jealous.” Tess held up her phone. “Can I have a photo with you, please?”
“Just a photo? But of course.”
Marching out from behind his stall, he beckoned her closer. “Come. Come.”
Tess scampered over. They put their arms around each other, beamed into the lens, and Tess took a selfie.
“Oh, thank you so much.”
“No, is my pleasure.” He plucked a red rose from his display and handed it to her. “One beautiful flower for another.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet.” She smiled and held up her phone again. “Okay, so one last one. Can you look serious and moody maybe?”
A hearty laugh burst out of him. Grinning, he wagged a finger at her. “Are you sure someone is not pay you for tease me?”
Tess put her hands together as if begging. “Just one. Please.”
He folded his arms and adopted a stern pose.
“Oh, fantastic.” Tess clicked a couple of shots. “Thank you so much. Bardzo dziekuje.”
“Oh, you speak Polish! Prosze bardzo. You are very welcome.” He waved as she scampered away.
Tess beckoned the other two women, who were standing, mystified. Deep in the square, Tess waited for them. The three of them together again, Tess approached the portrait artist with whom Elena had chatted earlier about creating an enlarged drawing of Cat from a photo.
“Excuse me?” Tess said.
The artist, a man with a braided beard looked up from sharpening his pencils.
“Do you speak English, please?”
He hovered his hand in the air and shook it. “Little.”
Handing Elena her phone displaying the serio
us photo of the flower seller, Tess said, “Tell him to draw this, life size, but that we want to modify it.”
“Okay.” Elena talked with the man.
Tess looked to Blondie. “I want you to watch the artist and describe what needs to change to turn the flower man into the bad man. Okay?”
“You think I nothing to do better than stand all day here?”
Tess took out her wad of money again. “So, what do you want? This?”
“I want know why you think you win with bad man. Why I trust you to good do, not big trouble bring.”
“Tell me what I need to know and you won’t have to worry about the bad man again.”
“I no worry.” Blondie shook her head with a shrug. “I have manager. He rip off balls of bad man if me he try to take.”
Putting her hand on Blondie’s forearm, Tess said, “You help me and I’ll ‘rip off balls of bad man’. Today.”
Blonde sniggered at Tess.
That reaction was understandable – words were easy. Tess unslung her backpack and turned away from Elena and the artist. Unzipping her bag, she crouched, then beckoned Blondie closer.
Blondie squatted in front of Tess. Between them, they shielded the bag from sight.
Opening her bag, Tess nodded to her bulletproof vest inside. “Do you know what that is?”
Blondie reached in and felt it, then nodded to herself. “Hmmm. Bullet vest.” She looked up and stared into Tess’s eyes, as if judging her in that very moment. Finally, she said, “You bad woman?”
Tess stared back. “An absolute nightmare.”
Chapter 09
The artist leaned back from his work, the portrait finished under Blondie’s guidance. Tess took a photo of the drawing with her phone. The guy they were looking for was a remarkably handsome man. If he had the charm to match his looks, it was no wonder he could lure women into danger.
A trumpet sounded.
Tess turned to St. Mary’s Church on the edge of the square. High in the tallest of the two red brick towers, the trumpeter abruptly ended his signal after only a few notes, leaving the melody unresolved. Legend said that in the thirteenth century a sentry had sounded the alarm by trumpet call, warning the town that rampaging Mongol hordes were close by. Unfortunately for him, they were far closer than he thought – an arrow hit him in the throat, cutting his warning call short. Despite that, his warning saved the town. All these centuries later, on the hour every hour, a trumpeter sounded his short call to commemorate his sacrifice.
Just as the sentry’s warning had come last-minute but had still saved Krakow, so Tess hoped her call to action hadn’t come too late and she’d still manage to save Cat. She turned away from St. Mary’s silent tower, praying that such a rescue would not demand the same level of sacrifice as that of the sentry.
With the picture rolled up and in a cardboard tube, they left, Blondie led the way, this time. Her attitude had changed since discovering Tess might be as bad as the bad man. Even more so after witnessing Tess’s cleverness in turning a complete stranger into a fair representation of the man they were hunting. Maybe she’d started to believe Tess really could get such a dangerous man off the streets. Unfortunately, while they had a picture of him, they’d still no idea how to actually find him.
Back on the street on which they’d found her, Blondie pointed down a narrow alley which served as access to the rear of some of the buildings.
She said, “This where I see his car sometime.”
Other than wheeled refuse bins, the alley was empty.
“What kind is it?” asked Tess. That wasn’t helpful now, but it might be later.
Blondie didn’t blink. “Mercedes S500, 4.7-liter twin-turbo V8. Black. 2015 model.”
“Oh.” Tess had expected a color, a reference to its size and maybe if they were really lucky, even a manufacturer. That would teach Tess for stereotyping. And it left the door open to expect even greater treasures. “I don’t suppose you got a license plate?”
“What is license plate?”
“The car number.” Tess pointed to a delivery truck on the street. “The number and letters on the front and back.”
“Ahhh. Er… it have two and five. What else…” She shrugged she didn’t know.
That was better than nothing. “So when he’s not in this part of the city, where is he?”
Blondie shook her head and shrugged again.
“Would your manager know?”
“No.”
“Would any of your friends know? They must want this guy off the street as much as we do.”
“Meh… Maybe. Maybe no.”
“Please,” said Elena, panting for breath, “time is running out for my Catalina.”
Blondie held up a hand, gesturing for Elena to wait, and then took out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts.
Tess looked at Elena. The lady was slouched and gasping for air even though they were standing still.
“Do you need to rest?”
Elena shook her head. “I can rest later.”
Tess pointed to the café at which they’d met Blondie. “At least sit and get your breath back while we work out where we’re going next.”
Gasping for air, Elena nodded and staggered a few steps toward the café.
Tess turned to Blondie, who was now talking in Polish on her phone. “We’ll be outside the café.”
Blondie nodded.
Fearing Elena would fall, Tess took her arm and helped her over to a chair.
“Order whatever you like.” Tess reached out to put some cash on the table, but Elena caught her hand.
“I still have a little money,” Elena said. “You’re already doing so much.”
“But I need you to translate. So eat, rest and get your strength back. It could be a long day.”
“Are you eating?”
“Maybe,” Tess said. “But I want to try something first.”
“So, I’ll wait.”
Tess took out her phone and selected the cell phone number they had that belonged to the man they were hunting. Every time they’d called it, they’d gotten nothing but a ring tone. Maybe the guy screened his calls and only took those from numbers he recognized. That was fair. But maybe there was another way they could reach him.
On her phone, she attached a photo of the drawing they had of him to a text message, then handed the phone to Elena. “I need you to type something in Polish.”
Taking the phone, Elena said, “Okay.”
Tess dictated slowly enough for Elena to translate and type, “We know who you are. We know where you are. Release Catalina Petrescu or we’re coming for you.”
Elena finished typing and Tess sent the message.
The man screened calls to avoid speaking to people, but he might be curious enough to glance at a text because there was no direct interaction. That was all she needed – get his attention with a little bluff backed up with an image of him.
Elena sat up in her seat, her breathing coming a little easier. “Do you think it will work?”
“No.”
“Oh.” She slumped again and her expression dropped. “Then why are we doing it?”
“Like I said, it’s just an idea. I don’t know if it will work, but it’s worth trying.”
There was no way Cat would be released following such a simple threat. But those who had her might now keep her safer than they otherwise would because she might be of use as a bargaining chip. After all, they had no idea who had sent the text and the photo. For all they knew, it could be a much bigger gang with a lot more firepower. Keeping Cat safe was suddenly in their best interests.
Also, it might finally open the lines of communication. After seeing the photo from Tess’s phone number, he might be more willing to take her call. If he did, maybe she could bluff her way into a meeting.
Tess waited a couple more minutes and then phoned the number. She listened to it ring and ring and ring.
“What’s that?” Elena said, frowning.
&
nbsp; Tess looked at her. “Hmm?”
“That. That noise.”
Tess took her phone away from her ear so she could try to pick up on the sound Elena was hearing.
She listened, then walked a few paces away from the café back toward the alley where the man sometimes parked his car. The noise got louder. A phone was ringing.
Tess homed in on the sound, walking over to a green trash can on the roadside. She pawed away flyers, newspaper, fast-food packaging, bottles…
A gray plastic phone lay there. Ringing.
She picked it up. Looked at the display – her number.
“Oh, Jesus.” She looked back at Elena.
“What is it?”
Tess hung her head.
“What is it?” Elena repeated, her voice wavering with worry.
“It’s a burner.”
“Sorry, but what is ‘burner’?”
Tess held up the cheap phone. “It’s a burner phone. A cheap cell phone criminals use a few times and then throw away so no one can trace them through it.”
Elena cupped her hands to her face and shook her head.
Tess could imagine what she was seeing in her mind – Cat beaten, gang-raped, maybe even dead. Or pumped so full of drugs, she didn’t care how many took her, but wished she was dead when she crashed down off her high.
Okay, they’d caught a break getting an image of Cat’s abductor, but nearly a million people lived in the city. How the hell could they find just one of them from a drawing?
There had always been the possibility that they might find Cat dead, or never even find her at all, but Tess had always believed there was a chance she could save her. Now? Now there was no way there was going to be a happy ending to this story.
Marching toward them, Blondie waved, shouting, “I have place!”
Elena pushed up and doddered over to Blondie, moving faster than Tess had seen since they’d found confirmation Cat had been in the area.
Blondie handed her a piece of paper. “Fifteen minute ago, he here.”
Tess took a corner of the paper Elena was holding and turned it so she could see, but it was handwritten Polish – utterly unintelligible.
“This place in Nova Huta,” said Blondie. “Is maybe twenty minute taxi.”
With a renewed sparkle in her weary eyes, Elena looked at Tess. “What are we going to do now?”
