Secrets of the Dead

by Kylie Brant

  The time stamp that appeared in the corner of the screen read RaikerShelter#1, with a date from earlier in the week. “This would be the main room. There are three bedrooms, a dining area and a couple of bathrooms. Not cramped by any means, but small enough that Raiker wouldn’t have many security operatives living there with him.” He lifted a shoulder. “And why would he? He’d never believe that an unauthorized person could get on the property, much less access this area. Only a few of his employees even know this space exists.”

  He waited for the men to watch the entire video. Then stepped forward to tap the screen. “This door? It opens to a staircase that leads directly to Raiker’s offices at headquarters. Today we’ll do iris scans and prints on each of you, which I’ll relay to my contact still in Raiker’s employ. He’ll upload them into the computer for the highest security clearance level. No one will stop you. You’ll be in the system.”

  He glanced at Eve who was sitting in a chair across the room, feet tucked beneath her, her cardigan pulled close to her body while she pretended to listen to music. She hadn’t mentioned breakfast yet. He wondered if that was because the listening device had picked up something of interest, or if she was biding her time until the housekeeping staff was in place. He suspected the latter.

  Returning his focus to the men surrounding him, he flipped to a clip that purported to be from Raiker’s offices. Declan had been in the area numerous times and knew the space in the video bore no resemblance to the real rooms. This area was oversized, lined with bookcases and dominated by a desk the size of a small pond. The only similarity between the scene and Raiker’s office was the leather furniture scattered about. He did a close up of the bookcase directly behind the desk. “Between the fourth and fifth shelves,” he touched the spot he was indicating on the screen, “You’ll find a switch behind the books. That will move the shelf aside and reveal the staircase to the underground shelter. There’s another door for you to enter at the bottom of the stairway, but again it will require iris scans and prints. By the time you’re that far, you’ll have no problem getting in.”

  “We will need proof that our information is in the private network.”

  Declan bared his teeth. “And you’ll get that proof. As soon as Shuang wires the rest of the money we agreed upon to my account.”

  They didn’t like that, it was clear. One of them muttered something to the others in a foreign tongue. Declan turned to the machines he’d set on the table beside the computer. He disconnected his phone from the laptop and plugged in the small print scanner. It was a small slender box no more than two inches by three with a finger-sized groove in the center. Declan turned to the keyboard and brought up a dummy email account created for this purpose. He addressed the mail to his supposed colleague and then looked up to survey the three watching him warily.

  “Let’s start with Harris.” He made a c’mon gesture to the man, pretended to wait impatiently for him to move forward. “Put your finger here. Press down.” A moment later a graphic display of the ridges and swirls of the man’s prints appeared on the screen in front of them. “What’s the name? Spell it for me. The man did so and, Declan typed it below the print. “Stay put for a minute.” He switched the print scan for the large camera and rose. “Come closer.”

  Harris looked at his colleagues before doing as he was bid. Declan held it near the man’s right eye. “Don’t blink.” He took the picture. Moved the instrument away. “The camera will not only capture the image of your iris, it’ll do calculations to measure the exact pattern in it. That image will be fed into the scanner, which shoots near infra-red light into the eyeball to determine the unique structures of the iris from the light that returns.” Harris stepped away and Declan busied himself uploading the image to the body of the email with the man’s name and sending the message. He brought up another empty email document and looked expectantly at the two remaining men. “Who’s next?”

  _______

  It was with an odd sense of déjà vu that Eve escaped the room again under the guise of ordering breakfast from the dining room. Once she’d done so she headed for the staircase toward the upper floors. She had no idea where she’d find Brina, but thought the best place to look would be the floor where she’d first found her yesterday morning.

  When she peeked out the exit door into the hallway, the familiar housekeeping cart could be seen in front of one of the rooms. She looked in the door and saw Brina, but she wasn’t alone. Eve didn’t recognize the other woman wearing a maid’s uniform. Her gaze went immediately to the woman’s ankle. Noted the bulge beneath the thick white cotton sock.

  She knocked loudly on the doorjamb. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m having trouble with the ice machine. Could one of you help me?”

  The second housekeeper looked at Eve and shrugged helplessly. “No English.”

  “Please come.” Eve gestured into the hallway. “I’ll show you.” Brina, she noted, was making a studied attempt to not look at her at all as she dusted a lamp. A pretense, she hoped, for the other woman’s sake.

  When neither of the women moved, Eve slapped her hand against the doorjamb, as if peeved. “If I have to call management, believe me, I’ll tell them how unhelpful you both have been.”

  Brina finally looked at the other woman. “We will be in trouble if she complains.” Thai, Eve interpreted. Not grammatically correct, but understandable.

  “You go. I will not tell Shuang.” She flushed under the glare Brina leveled at her.

  “You tell her all else. You go.”

  The second housekeeper shook her head. “Please. I cannot understand what this woman wants. You will keep us both out of trouble.”

  With a show of unwillingness, Brina stepped over the vacuum cleaner and came to the door. “How can I help you?” she asked in English.

  “Thank you so much,” Eve said as she turned to lead the way to the alcove that housed the soft drinks and ice machine. “I think the ice machine is stuck and I can’t get my hand up there far enough to unplug it. With your help I’m sure we can get it to work.” She kept up the chatter until they reached the area in question before dropping the farce entirely. Drawing out her cell phone, she spoke in Serbian, “I have something to show you.” Positioning herself in front of the ice machine, she waited for the other woman to stand beside her. Bringing up the pictures she’d taken in the morgue, she murmured, “A body was found in the river.”

  Brina’s gasp told her better than words that their victim had been ID’d. “Dajana.” Her whisper was thick with unshed tears. “It is my friend.”

  “I’m sorry.” The words were as inadequate as the rage Eve felt on both women’s behalf. “I know this is a horrible shock.”

  The housekeeper handed back the phone. “How did you find her?”

  “I just told others what you had shared with me. There will be help coming. But you can’t tell any of the others.”

  Brina’s expression was bitter. “There is no one else I would trust, now that Dajana is dead. The others are too afraid. They think they might be next. And Buppha, the girl with me in the room, she tells all she knows to Shuang. She thinks to get favored treatment. Shuang paired us because I got behind yesterday. To make sure I am working my hardest.”

  A thought occurred. “Do the owners of the hotel ever visit here? Do you think they know what is happening with you and the other women?” Maybe the trafficking ring went deeper than Malsovic and Shuang.

  Brina shook her head uncomprehendingly. “There are no others. Shuang is the owner of the hotel. I know this because last year I overheard her and Malsovic talking. She said the place is hers and if he did not do as she says, he could leave.”

  Shocked, Eve stared at her. Raiker had said the place was owned by a group of Pakistanis, but she knew it was possible to create a false front to a property to hide true ownership. It was something she’d have to share with the ma
n to be looked into further.

  Belatedly aware of the passing moments, urgency began rapping at Eve’s skull. “You must get back before Buppha gets suspicious. Can I find something that belonged to Dajana in your rooms? A toothbrush or hairbrush…” Her words tapered off at the other woman’s headshake.

  “All has been collected and taken away, but no one has asked about the pass key. Maybe they have not thought of it yet.” She took a deep breath, as if willing emotion away. “The police…they care that Dajana is dead?”

  “Yes. And what is happening with all of you here at the hotel will be investigated,” Eve assured her.

  The woman looked unconvinced. “Sometimes they need evidence. Like you asked for Dajana’s things. They are gone, but I can get you more proof of what they do with us.”

  “Leave that to us.”

  But the woman’s face was mutinous. “I can bring you something from Malsovic’s room. He has cards. All of us have a picture on one. He hands them out, in a deck, you see? For the men to pick which of us they want. He has many decks. I could bring you one. You could show it to the police.”

  Nausea, a nasty tangle of it, twisted in Eve’s belly. Somehow the information underscored the callousness with which Malsovic regarded the women. They weren’t people. They were things. Possessions to be bought, sold and bartered.

  And she tended to think the cards would be valuable indeed. Not just to provide a push if justice moved too slowly. But to supply a photo ID to law enforcement of all the women being held, so they’d know who needed rescuing when a raid was launched.

  “You are not to go to his room. It’s too risky. If he caught you…” He might kill her. Eve left the words unsaid, but the fear she felt for the housekeeper was all too real. Lives were meaningless to the man. And he thought he owned these women.

  Skirting her gaze, the housekeeper turned to leave. “I must get back to cleaning.”

  Eve stopped her with a hand to her arm. The vow came from her lips before consciously formed in her brain. “I’ll go to his room. I’ll get a set of the cards to show to the authorities.”

  Brina fixed her with a look. “You promise this?”

  Already Eve was regretting the words. In light of the argument she and Declan had had last night, she knew without asking that he’d disapprove of the plan. Disapprove being an understatement. But she also recognized that Brina would endanger her life to get her hands on the evidence, and Eve couldn’t have the woman take that kind of risk.

  She didn’t want to make another trip to the morgue.

  “Yes. I promise.”

  Brina nodded once and walked away. Leaving Eve with no practical idea for how she was going to keep her word.

  She thought about it as she descended the stairway. As she made her way to the dining room and placed an order with a waitress there for room 311. It had taken a pretense to get Shuang out of her rooms yesterday, but Eve couldn’t imagine what kind of farce she could enact to convince Malsovic to vacate his room, short of pulling a fire alarm. And that would have consequences beyond her intent.

  Dropping down on a couch in the lobby, she considered the problem. She was no closer to a solution when she saw a familiar face at the far end of the lobby, walking swiftly, a bit hunched over. Eve thought he was headed for the back lobby exit, but he disappeared around a corner. It was the man who had tailed them yesterday. The one who had attempted to force them into a car a few days previously.

  He’d been speaking with Malsovic yesterday, she recalled, getting to her feet. She wished now she’d gotten close enough to overhear what they had been saying. Curious, she trailed after him, half expecting that by the time she reached the bend in the hallway where he’d disappeared that he’d be gone. He wasn’t. She pulled out her cell, pretended to be engrossed in it as she stood where she could keep him in her peripheral vision. He lounged against a wall, across from the exit as if in wait for someone. Moments later he was joined by Malsovic.

  The two spoke for several minutes, their expressions furtive. Then to Eve’s surprise, they both walked out the door together. Without thinking twice she rounded the corner and, cell still in her hand, half jogged to the exit they’d disappeared through. Neither man was in the vicinity when she peered out.

  She couldn’t believe Malsovic would leave the property after the tongue-lashing he’d gotten from Shuang last night for having done so. Eve waited another minute but saw no sign of either man. Slowly she walked back to the lobby. Last night he’d claimed he’d been searching for things the group would need for their next kidnapping attempt. Shuang hadn’t appeared to buy it. Clearly little trust existed between the two. And now, after being expressly forbidden to do so, he appeared to have left the premises again.

  It was possible he was on an errand for Shuang this time. Or that the men had only walked outside to finish their conversation in private.

  It was also possible that she’d just been handed a way to get into Malsovic’s room without being detected. Slipping her cell back in her purse, Eve swiftly left the area, crossed the lobby and headed for the staircase again. At this rate she should be pounds lighter before this assignment was over. She used the time walking upstairs to text Raiker that Brina had made a positive ID on photos from the morgue, without mentioning what Eve meant to do next.

  Sometimes it was easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.

  On the surface, there was nothing about room 823 that stood out. She’d waited in the stairwell until the hallway was empty, and the housekeeper assigned to the floor was busy before slipping inside the room. She tried the safe in the closet and found it locked. Then Eve moved to the drawer of the desk and found nothing of note inside.

  Undeterred she went to the dresser. Her fingers faltered when she unearthed two thick black metal bracelets beneath a pile of shirts. Ankle monitors, just like the one Brina had shown her. Eve didn’t need to wonder if one of them had belonged to Dajana. Shoving the drawer in, she pulled open another. And discovered stacks of cards bound together with rubber bands.

  Withdrawing one, she slipped the band off and fanned the cards out. Revulsion rippled down her spine. In each picture a woman was posed in skimpy lingerie and suggestive poses. It was exactly as Brina had claimed. Eve was unsurprised. The woman hadn’t been wrong yet. She secured them again with the rubber band and dropped them in her purse.

  A quick search of the rest of the drawers and the closet turned up more ammunition for a gun that wasn’t present, at least not anywhere she looked. Next she checked under the mattress. Finding nothing, she looked beneath the bed. Pulled out the nearest item.

  It was a bundle of some sort, wrapped in a man’s flannel shirt. When Eve unrolled it she saw another handgun, a passport and a driver’s license issued by the state of Virginia. The image on the license had her catching her breath. She used the edge of the shirt to flip open the passport. Both photos showed the same man. The one she’d seen a picture of on her first trip to Raiker’s office. And again, of the decomposing corpse found at C&O Park. The kidnapper known as Marlin Hobart.

  The names on the identification both read Steven Gosling. Drawing out her phone, she took a photo of the license. Flipping through the passport she saw the man listed Sydney, Australia as his native country. But he’d made frequent trips to Serbia and the US.

  And somewhere along the line he’d crossed paths with Malsovic. The fact Malsovic had the dead man’s belongings made it seem even likelier that he’d been Hobart’s killer.

  The only other thing under the bed was a rifle and boxes of ammo. Carefully she replaced the bundle, straightened and smoothed the bedspread back in place.

  Her gaze landed on the laptop sitting on top of the desk. Crossing to it, Eve lifted the lid, half expecting it to be turned off or password protected. To her shock, it was on, open to a search page. The browser language was set to Serbian. Perhaps Malsovic had been ca
lled away abruptly. Or maybe he thought the fact that the language was in his native tongue would be enough of a deterrent to anyone who came looking.

  Eve checked the history, bringing up each of the last five searches. The subject of every one of them was Rizqi bin Osman.

  The man who had owned the hotel until seven years ago, she recalled. Raiker had said he’d operated a human trafficking ring much like the one in the hotel now. But why was Malsovic checking on the man?

  She tucked the questions away for later and moved the search window down to look at his desktop. It was empty. Undeterred, she went to the hard drive and looked for stored documents. Found nothing.

  Her pulse was pounding, her heart rapping in her chest. She’d been inside the room for nearly ten minutes and there were few things she wanted to experience less than being here when Malsovic came back. She restored the laptop to its previous window, closed the lid and walked to the door. Checking the peephole, she saw no one nearby so eased the door open to look out. She wasn’t worried about the couple coming down the hallway toward her. They wouldn’t know the room she was departing wasn’t hers. But the housekeeper just down the hall would.

  The walls seemed to press in on her as she waited for the housekeeper to roll her cart to the next room. To go inside it. If Eve had needed proof of what Lafka Malsovic was, she’d seen it here today. Justice couldn’t come soon enough for the man.

  The first chance she had she darted out of the room and beelined for the stairwell. It was another one for the books. Despite the fact that breakfast would be sent to 311 in thirty minutes or so, once again Eve had lost her appetite.

  _______

  “I took your men through a simulated breach on Raiker’s property multiple times. They have an excellent grasp of the plan that will get them inside to access the family’s area.” Shuang had brought the weapons down again. Now she stood listening to Declan explain what he’d covered with her employees that day. “I sent their iris photos and fingerprints to my friend inside.” Later in the afternoon Malsovic had come to the room for the first time, and Declan had followed the same procedure for him. He’d left immediately afterwards, without exchanging more than a few words with the other men. Declan gave Shuang a thin smile. “There’s a little matter of the second half of my payment to be discussed.”