The Deep Dark Descending

by Eskens,Allen

  “I don’t know what you’re a part of, Ana. I don’t know much of anything. You say you’re an innocent bystander; I’ll buy that for now. But there’s too much gray area.”

  “It is not gray. I want Zoya’s killer stopped. You want that too. This is not gray.”

  She had no idea about Jenni and the real purpose behind our mission. I thought about telling her. That would have been the fair thing to do. Here she was, risking her life in a car that had nearly fishtailed underneath the back tire of a semi, and she still thought this was about arresting Mikhail for the death of her sister. I opened my mouth, fully intending to tell her the truth, but I couldn’t. Instead, I decided to fill in some of those gray areas.

  “Tell me about your life with Mikhail and Reece. How does a girl from Belarus come to find herself in Minneapolis with a tattoo behind her ear?”

  My words came out harsher than I wanted, and in my periphery I could see Ana retreat into her seat. I didn’t expect her to answer. It was a dickish move on my part. I may as well have come right out and asked her what made her a whore.

  I pulled in behind a convoy of travelers moving at a sluggish but consistent speed. “Slow and steady wins the race,” I muttered under my breath.

  “It’s not the strip club,” Ana said. “That’s what you might think, but it’s not. It’s the cleaning company.”

  “The cleaning company?” I said.

  “Mikhail owns a cleaning company as well as the strip club. He has some legitimate contracts to clean offices and houses. He runs the prostitution out of that company.”

  “And you worked for his . . . cleaning company?”

  Ana pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins—cocooning herself as best she could. “I was a seventeen-year-old girl in Lida, my home in Belarus, when I met a man. He said that he could get me a job in Canada cleaning homes and offices. He said that after a few months, he could get me to the United States. He promised that once I got to America, I could do anything. He said that I was beautiful.”

  Ana turned toward the window as she slipped deeper into her past.

  “I wanted, very much, to come to America. You don’t know what it was like in Belarus. My father left us after Zoya was born. My mother did her best, but we had very little. We lived in a basement apartment. Pipes ran across the ceiling and dripped water onto our beds and shook with noise all night. We had no money. I wanted to help. I wanted to come to America to earn money to help my mother.”

  “Was that Mikhail who came to you in Belarus?”

  “No. It was an associate, a man whose job it was to get the girls to Canada. I moved to Toronto and began cleaning offices. It was a good job. I made more money than I could ever have made in Lida.”

  “In Toronto, did you . . . were you . . .”

  “Was I a prostitute? No. I only cleaned offices. I liked Canada. I was there for a year. That’s when Zoya came over. By then, I was eighteen and she was sixteen. They got a passport for her saying she was eighteen. We lived in the same apartment. We were happy. Then I received word that I was to come to America. I told them that I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay with Zoya. But I owed them lots of money for my travel, for my apartment. They kept my passport. I had to do what they said.”

  “How’d you cross the border?”

  “In a canoe. First, I was delivered to Mikhail’s Canadian partners in Thunder Bay. Then the Canadians brought me to a cabin about ten miles north of the American border. From there, we carried a canoe into the woods and paddled across the border. We looked like any other tourist. When I arrived on the American side of the lake, I met Mikhail. He brought me to his cabin.”

  “The cabin we’re going to now?”

  Ana shuddered and wrapped her coat up around her neck. Her answer, a single word—“yes”—fell heavy from her lips as if it carried the weight of years of regret.

  “And the cleaning company, here in America?”

  “That is how Mikhail hides everything. The girls are hired to clean. They go to a house. They perform the services requested, but the money came as a payment for cleaning services. The books are legitimate to anyone who doesn’t know the truth.”

  “And no one ever slipped up? No one ever let it out that this cleaning company was a front for prostitution?”

  “Mikhail’s clients are carefully chosen. You don’t come to Mikhail without a referral, and then he looks into your background. The clients must pass his inspection before he will permit his girls to go to them. Mikhail sells discretion, a very rare and expensive commodity for which he is greatly rewarded. His clients can be assured of the most beautiful women, but more importantly, they are assured their privacy. None of Mikhail’s girls have ever been arrested. Secrecy and loyalty—that is what Mikhail values above all else.”

  “And Reece ensured that privacy?”

  “Reece was important to everything. Reece kept Mikhail in the shadows. One time, a client was arrested for stealing prescription pills from his own pharmacy. He tried to cut a deal to keep his license and his job. He offered to hand Mikhail’s operation over to the police if they would turn a blind eye to his theft. Reece heard about this man and what he had offered the authorities. Reece took care of it while Mikhail waited at the cabin, ready at any moment to cross the border. The pharmacist was later determined to be a liar.”

  “No one believed the pharmacist?”

  “The pharmacist recanted, said he made the whole thing up. I suspect that the recantation saved the pharmacist’s wife from a terrible fate. That’s how Mikhail operated.”

  “And you know this because?”

  Ana looked at me and shook her head, as if to warn me off a topic. “You must not confuse me with an innocent. I am not innocent—I have not been for a long time. I was innocent once, in Canada. Now I am . . . I am not sure what I am anymore.”

  “You could have walked away. You didn’t have to go along with what they wanted you to do.”

  I tried to soften my words so that they didn’t come across as condemning. I don’t think I succeeded on that score. Ana again turned her gaze to her window. The darkness outside and the dim lights from the dashboard gave her an eerie reflection against the glass. After a few minutes, she said, “I will tell you what I am. You will judge me, I know, but at least you will understand.”

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 36

  “I met Mikhail the day they brought me across the border, Ana said. “He was waiting for me in a clearing of pine trees. He was so American, wearing his plaid shirt and bright smile. I thought he was more handsome than any actor I had ever seen. He spoke Belarussian, and he kissed my hand like I was something more than just a cleaning woman from Lida.

  “As he led me through the woods, he told me about the trees, showing me the difference between the many pines. He told me about the forest fires that swept through and cleared everything out, and about mushrooms and lichen that survive the fires to grow the forest again. He was so smart and caring, and when he held my hand, I felt like I was in a dream.

  “He brought me to a cabin in the middle of the woods, maybe three kilometers from the lake. He called it a cabin, but it was nicer than any house I had ever lived in. I remember thinking that if I could live in such a house, I would never leave. My bedroom was in the basement. He said that I would be staying in that room until it was safe for him to bring me to Minneapolis. He told me that he was putting me down there for my protection, but the door locked from the outside, not the inside.”

  “You were his prisoner?” I asked.

  “I was his prisoner, yes, but I did not feel like a prisoner—not at first. He spent time with me in that room. He brought me food, fresh fruits, and wine. He would drink with me and tell me how beautiful I was. I had never felt so special. But he would also tell me that his friends from Canada had spent a great deal of money on me. He told me that he paid my debt to them, and that I now had a debt to pay to him. He would kiss me and tell me that he
would help me, that I should trust him.

  “It was wonderful at first, but as time went by, he changed. He would stop bringing me food—for days at a time. I could hear him walking on the floor above me, and I would scream to him, but he would not come down. Often he would wake me in the middle of the night and he would do things to keep me awake. He would not let me sleep. This went on for a long time. I did not understand why he was depriving me of food and sleep. But now I understand. He was changing the way I think, the way I saw who I was.”

  “He was breaking you down,” I said.

  “Yes. And when I thought I would go insane, he changed again. He became loving. He would come to me and hold me. He was protecting me, and I believed him.”

  Ana sniffed and wiped tears from her cheeks.

  “That’s when he started to make me do things . . . sexually.”

  “He forced you?”

  “Force? No, he did not force me, not in the way you might think. It’s hard for people to understand. He had become everything to me. I wanted to show him how much I loved him. When I did the things that pleased him, he showered me with love and attention. I felt like I was the most special person on the planet.”

  Ana’s voice dipped to a sadder tone as she continued. “I know it sounds like I’m describing a dog that stays with a wicked master, but in a way that is how it was. That is how it is done—not with iron fists and beatings, but with velvet gloves and kisses.

  “As time went on, he began to test me, to see what I would do for him. He brought me presents: clothing, jewelry, shoes. With each new gift, he would push the boundaries of what I had to do. He taught me how to please a man in ways that made me hate myself. I did things, terrible things, and I did them with a smile on my face because it made him happy. I wanted to show him that there was nothing I would not do for him. He would abuse me and I would smile and say ‘see what I am willing to do for you?”

  Ana closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, the corners of her lips tugging downward, stopping her from speaking. Whatever memory she was trying to summon had to be a painful one. She took a deep breath to regain her composure and then continued.

  “One day, Mikhail came to my room with another man, a big man who smelled like rotting teeth. This man sat on my bed and looked at me in a way that ran needles up my spine. Mikhail told me that my next test would be to do everything that he asked of me, but I would do it with this man.”

  “I begged Mikhail not to make me do these things, but he slapped my face. It was the only time he ever hit me. He said that I had embarrassed him—I disrespected him in front of his friend. He called me a child—accused me of being disloyal because I would not do what he had commanded. He told me that I must prove my devotion to him by being with this man.

  “I did what he told me to do. I had sex with that man—many times—because that is what Mikhail wanted. After that man left our house, Mikhail told me that I was his best girl and that I had passed all my tests. I was ready to go to Minneapolis. I was ready to dance in his club and tease the men and be with the men. That is when he brought me to the city and to his office. There, Mikhail etched the tattoo behind my ear—proof that I belonged to him.”

  She brought her hand up and touched the ruble behind her ear.

  “I know it makes no sense to you, Detective, but it pleased me to get this tattoo. I was his girl. I lived for him. I would do whatever he asked of me. It sounds foolish as I tell you these things now, but, as I said, that is how it is done.”

  I didn’t know what to say. How do you respond to a woman who’s just told you how she was turned into a slave? In my periphery I could see Ana staring at the dashboard. She looked so much smaller than the woman I wrestled out of the strip club a few hours ago, her hands folded on her lap, her hair falling in wisps across her cheeks, some strands clinging to the wet paths of her tears. She must have thought me as much of a monster as Mikhail. She had let me in, peeled back her layers to expose the hardened marrow beneath, showing me her darkest shades, and I responded with silence.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally said.

  “Sorry?” She raised her eyes to me and stared in puzzlement.

  “We should have protected you. Whitton should have protected you. That was his job.”

  “Reece could do nothing for me. Mikhail had him tied up tight. Reece could not even save himself. It did not shock me that he took his life. It has been his only way out from the beginning.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not long after Mikhail brought me to Minneapolis, I learned about Reece Whitton. Reece used to come to the club to watch me dance. He watched others too, but he preferred me. He wanted me to go with him to his house. Mikhail forbade it. Mikhail knew that Reece was a cop.

  “Then one day, Mikhail brought me into his office. He told me that he had been looking into Reece Whitton. There were rumors. Other girls were telling stories of Reece. They said that he would hire them and when he got them alone, he would show them his badge. He would make them do things—bad things. He was cruel to them. And in the end he would not pay them. He would tell them that their payment was their freedom. The word was getting around, and soon no one would go near him.

  “That’s when Mikhail came up with his plan. One night I was dancing in the club and Reece came in. He took me to the private room and asked me to meet him later. I agreed. But I took him to my apartment where Mikhail had cameras hidden all around. I let Reece do what he wanted. I did it for Mikhail. And before Reece left, I made sure that he told me that my payment would be my freedom.

  “When Mikhail showed Reece the footage, Mikhail didn’t ask for money. Instead, he offered to make Reece a partner. He brought Reece into the company. If Reece agreed, Mikhail would own him. Reece would never be able to deny Mikhail anything.”

  “So Reece Whitton became a partner in Mikhail’s operation. And you?”

  Ana looked at me like I had just insulted her. “You still think that I am one of them?”

  “I don’t know, Ana. I honestly don’t know.”

  Chapter 37: Up North

  Chapter 37

  Up North

  “Ana’s playing you, Rupert.” Mikhail’s words clatter across his teeth like falling bits of stone knocking together, his jaw clenching as he fights to hide the deep frozen chill in his bones. The ice seems to have finally penetrated his snow suit, and I can hear a new desperation in his voice, a trapped animal finally aware of the cage around him. “She lied to you,” he says. “She set you up. She sent you here because she wants you to kill me.”

  “What happened to ‘I have no idea what you’re taking about’? What happened to ‘I’m just a business man’?”

  Every part of my upper torso burns as I crank the auger with a renewed vigor. He’s changing his tack. He has no choice but to start admitting what I already know.

  The sun is slipping beyond the hills in the west, the hue of blue and violet melting into night as the light passes over our little nest. I want to get this hole drilled before I run out of light. In the east, the clouds are nearly gone from view and the rays of a brilliant moon seep through the final wisps. The wind has picked up a notch, and it pinches the exposed skin of my face. Mikhail remains burrowed into the snow to keep out of the wind, but I can see him shivering despite his best effort to act tough.

  “Ana runs the prostitution ring,” he says. “She’s the one who pulls the strings. I’m just a front man.”

  Now we’re getting somewhere. “So there is a prostitution ring,” I say.

  “Yes, but it’s not me. It’s Ana.”

  “A couple hours ago, there was no such thing. You swore to God. You begged me to believe you. Now you want me to believe that the ring exists, but you’re not involved? You see how this looks, don’t you, Mikhail?”

  “I swear to God—”

  “I’m sure you do.”

  “Okay, I started it—yes, but I haven’t been in control of the operation for years. It’s been Ana a
nd Reece Whitton. They’ve been squeezing me out. Now she’s going to have you do her dirty work and finish the job. You kill me and she has it all. Don’t you see that?”

  “I see a man who will say anything to save himself.”

  “She knows the business. Hell, she was my top girl. She has the client list. That’s all hers now. She’s the one who kept the thing running.”

  “How do the women get here? Who brings them here? That’s you, not Ana.”

  “It used to be me, yes, but not anymore. Ana knows all my contacts.”

  “What was Whitton’s role?”

  “Whitton was a customer. He used to come into the club and get hammered, then hit on the girls—offer them money or whatever. He was trying to get freebies in exchange for protection. He used to grab their tits and say that a cop can’t do that if he was going to arrest them.”

  “So how’d he start working for you?”

  “It was Ana’s idea. She convinced me that we should take him up on his offer. Blackmail him. She went with him, got video doing some twisted shit. Ana really is a brilliant actress.”

  “You blackmailed him?”

  “Less than you think. He was already ripe for the picking. We made him a partner.”

  “We?”

  “Ana didn’t tell you? She was a part of this from the very beginning.”

  “You’re lying again,” I said.

  Mikhail smiled like someone who just got the punchline of a dirty joke. “She’s gotten to you.”

  “Swing and a miss, Mikhail.”

  “You think she’s innocent. Hell, she ran the girls. Whitton kept an ear out for police interference, let us know if anyone was sniffing around the setup. If things got hot, we’d shut down for a while until things cooled off again. In exchange he’d get a nice payment every month.”

  “So you admit, you’re a pimp. All this pretending to be a legitimate businessman was a waste of my time.”

  “That’s the thing, Rupert. I used to be a pimp. They took that all away from me. I haven’t been in charge of that for years.”