The detective continued combing through the Transcendence House records Massey had turned over when he was first questioned about Olivia. They were pretty thorough. All the counselors and all the kids were there, going back five years, even if they just stayed for one night. Lots of notes on each kid, too. Kirsten Schrodinger wasn’t on the TH list, so no connection there.
McKenna had no suspects at this point, but anyone who had prolonged contact with a murder victim or a vanished child was a person of interest in his book. Rachel seemed convinced that Massey was lying about Olivia being in the stream at the retreat. McKenna didn’t want to bring that up yet. He had no comeback if the priest just dismissed it.
He wondered if other youth shelters kept records as detailed as Massey’s. He googled “youth shelters in NYC” and got about a half dozen hits. Covenant House, Trinity Place Shelter, Safe Horizon, MCCNY, and others.
That afternoon he made the rounds and collected soft copies of personnel records from all these shelters. They had a right to ask for a warrant, but they cooperated, given that it was a missing child case.
McKenna entered his two-bedroom apartment in Kew Village, Queens. In the three years since he had moved here, he had yet to have a guest sleep in the other bedroom. For that matter, he had yet to have anyone stay in his bedroom either.
He threw a packet of macaroni and cheese in the microwave and sat down with his laptop. He had a database of all the children who had disappeared or had been murdered in New York City in the last year and was cross-checking it against the list of kids who had stayed at all the shelters.
The macaroni and cheese was hot, so he put it aside. Pretty soon it was cold, and McKenna was still cross-checking. After two hours and the third reheat of the noodles, he noticed something.
Belinda Knights was a thirteen-year-old who had disappeared for about two weeks six months ago. She was then found under a bridge, slaughtered, tortured and missing her hands, eyelids, and lips. The photos taken at the scene made McKenna throw his dinner in the trash.
She had stayed for two weeks at the Metropolitan Community Church of New York Youth Shelter. In her profile, it stated that she had previously stayed at other shelters, including Trinity Place Shelter and Transcendence House. McKenna went down the list of kids in the TH records.
Belinda wasn’t there.
ne experience had taught Rachel that she could become inured to almost anything: witnessing a human dissection at Albert Einstein College of Medicine where she had done a summer internship in her freshman year. It was the body of a homeless man. That smell―a mixture of formaldehyde and rotting flesh. If abandonment had a smell, that was it. Half the interns had to excuse themselves to vomit, even the boys. Rachel decided that she was going to stay no matter how her mind and body rebelled against her will. Her blood pressure tumbled at the sight of the thorax being split open by a saw; her back pressed against the wall for support as the chest cavity was exposed by the retractor. The next day, she reviewed the notes she had taken. They were fragmented and undisciplined. One day she would go through that again and take notes that were calm, coherent, and rigorous. That’s what she had to be now, even if it was she who was being dissected.
She sat in her booth for a moment before going out into the loud music again.
It was the third day of her new profession and sadness competed with anger. Anger at having failed, at having to leave this place empty-handed after all the sacrifices she’d made. What was there to lose now? She wanted to feel disgust, shame, embarrassment, revulsion. These were the vital signs of decency. Anything less was to embrace this. One more day.
During her dinner break, she went to the ladies’ room.
“That your money layin’ there?” asked a voice. Rachel didn’t know there was any one else in the bathroom. The stranger jerked her chin toward a wad of crushed bills sitting on the sink. “Well, you better stick that in your shoe or some other crevice. You a cherry, ain’t you?”
“If that means am I new, then yeah, I’m a cherry.”
“Tishy.”
“Lisa.”
“You look like you in trauma, Lisa. Nothing you don’t do for free at home. Half the time, they as nude-ass as you.”
“So I’ve seen. How long have you worked here?”
“Six weeks. Up from Atlanta. You?”
“New York.”
“Not too friendly here. Not much esprit de corps, you know what I’m sayin’?”
“How about a friendly bite to eat?” asked Rachel.
“Sure. Lot of the girls just call it in, but I like to get out. Cross the street, a Tex-Mex place, or passes for one. ‘Cept you can’t tell what’s in these urban fajitas. Italiano at the other corner. Some New-Age, holistic, spirit-of-the-Andes burger place over yonder.”
“That’s sounds about right.” They stepped into the street. “I never thought I’d call this fresh air, but that’s what I think now,” said Rachel.
“I see ya’ll want to put some distance between you and your job, but slow down and smell the roses,” said Tishy.
Rachel perused the menu at Quantum Leap. The BLT with soy bacon sounded interesting.
“Next time we’ll go Italiano,” said Tishy, still looking at the menu. “This is some rarefied shit to me.”
“You live far from here?” asked Rachel.
“Two blocks thataway.”
“Well, the commute’s good.”
“It would be if this was a job. The shit you see, you don’t get on any other job. Like the guy―I call him Trenches―he comes in my booth twice a week and cuts farts that violate the Geneva Conventions―it comes through the tip slot and I’m overcome. The only redemption is that he gives me fifty bucks for my troubles―I’ll have the soy burger with lots of onions.”
“Ever meet anyone dangerous?”
“They’re out there, but they don’t act that way in the place. They wouldn’t last a minute. Isaac, the black bouncer? He’s real irritable, especially when he’s hungry. I heard once he crushed a man’s balls for giving him confusing directions to a pizzeria.”
“Perlman is creepy,” said Rachel.
“They say he was in Israeli intelligence,” said Tishy. “Was one of the guys who went around the world killing the Arabs who killed the Jews in the Olympics back in seventy-two. Sword of Gideon or some shit.”
“Nice guy. Fits him to a T.”
“Yeah, I heard he did some heavy shit. One mean motherfucker.”
“He ever hurt any of the girls?”
“He don’t do shit himself. He retired from the heavy lifting if you know what I mean. Just follow the rules and you be fine. Rule One: never date a customer. Never even give them your real name.”
“I’m already on to that. I’m really Rachel, by the way.”
“Savannah.”
When they returned to the Pleasure Palace, a girl called from across the room. “Tish, have you seen Julia? I have a client lined up and promised him two girls. Dayna just had her period, so I need a sub.”
“She’s out today. Family issues.”
Rachel glanced in the direction of the voice. It was Sonia.
onia was already approaching two other girls and Rachel had to make a decision fast. Where would the show be? What would it involve? When would they return? By the time Rachel walked over to the girl, she had decided.
“Hi, I’m Rachel, you mentioned there’s a job.”
“You new?”
“I started this week.”
“Ever do a private show?”
“No, but I could use the cash. But just dancing, right?”
“That’s it. “
“‘Cause I don’t do anything else.”
“It’s two bills for two hours. Eleven tonight.”
“I’m available if it’s not too far.”
“Brooklyn.”
“That’s okay. I could really use the money.”
“Okay, but don’t get shy on me. You gotta get balls-ass naked.” She got on
her cell phone.
“Jack, this is Sonia. We still on? Dayna can’t make it, but I’ve got someone else. No, just dancing. Don’t worry about it. Okay. See you later.”
“We go after my shift ends. You got any Victoria’s Secret?” said Sonia.
“Ah, not with me,” said Rachel.
“Get some. He likes that and he tips good.”
At break time, Rachel tallied up her earnings. Three-hundred-ten dollars cash. No wonder girls did this.
A couple of blocks away, she bought a Sexy Little Things black lace thong and Sexy Satin Kitten thigh high stockings with a push up Miracle Bra. Sixty-seven dollars. These were somberly paid for at the register, trying to feign a smile at the overly friendly sales lady. And then the lady said precisely what Rachel was dreading she’d say.
“Oh, he’s going to love you in these.”
At nine, they took the L to Brooklyn.
Sonia quickly braided her hair in pigtails and brushed her bangs out. She had washed off the heavy makeup at the Pleasure Palace and now looked a lot younger.
“You look good with the straight hair,” observed Rachel.
“Our client is partial to the wholesome little girl look.”
“What do I need to know about this client―besides his taste in lingerie?” asked Rachel.
“He’s loaded.”
“What does he do?”
“He does real estate now, but he made his money stealing from ATM machines a few years back. Was making like forty grand a day before he got caught. He did some jail time, but he never gave back the money.”
“How old is he?”
“Forties, I guess.”
“Anyone else going to be there? This isn’t like a bachelor party is it?”
“Just him. I don’t do bachelor parties. Just clients I know or come highly recommended.”
“So is he a highly recommended or do you know him?”
“Recommended a few months ago. What are you worried about?”
“I’m nervous.”
“Just do your job, you’ll be fine. How old are you?”
“Eighteen.”
“You’re fourteen.”
“Huh?”
Sonia put Rachel’s hair in pigtails and held them with scrunchies. She brushed out the bangs and fluffed out each tail. “Perfect. Fourteen.”
“And what’s with fourteen?”
“Our client’s a pedophile. They all are.”
The Red Hook townhouse had a lovely view of Manhattan.
Sonia pressed the buzzer.
“Jack, it’s Sonia.”
He buzzed them in.
He was about five-foot eight with a pony tail and the physique of a bodybuilder whose goal was cut, not bulk. Rachel always made note of what job a man had if he wore a pony tail and had so far logged a car mechanic, bicycle messenger, a record store employee, and hair dresser.
“Jack, this is my friend, Lisa.”
“How you doin’, Lisa?” He took Rachel’s hand. She returned a smile and was grateful when Sonia removed her shoes, so she could do the same and break the eye contact.
He led them to the living room which was lined with walls of CDs and housed a powerful Bang & Olufson stereo system with speakers mounted on stands that towered over the girls. The place was beautifully decorated with glass coffee tables, white torch lamps, and matching sconces. A Persian carpet covered the bamboo floor. There was no dust to be seen, and even the coffee table books were arranged in perfect order on the corner of the table.
“Let’s get some more light in here.” He turned the dimmer switch, then smoothed out the carpet where the girls’ steps had altered the grain. “Let’s get business over with,” he said, handing each girl two hundred dollars. “So what are you guys drinkin’? Heineken for you. How ‘bout you, Lisa?”
“Um, just a Coke for me. I’m underage.”
That brought a smile to Jack’s face. “Soda it is.”
He tapped the remote and summoned Brazilian jazz.
“Yous eat? I got menus. Szechuan, Cantonese, Rick’s Italian Place. Pick what you want and I’ll fax it in.”
The girls pored over the menus like research assistants. Rachel could feel the man’s eyes on her, inspecting her, pawing at her with his imagination. Then the music changed to New Age, something with Gregorian chants and heavy breathing.
They ordered fried rice, ribs, and General Tsao’s chicken.
“I’m going to use the ladies’ room,” said Sonia.
“You have a beautiful place,” said Rachel.
“Thanks. I wanted to give it an international flavor. Each room has artifacts from different places. Over there I got fans and Buddhas from the Far East. I’m starting an Africa room,” he said in a Brooklyn accent that he didn’t try to hide. He reminded Rachel of a low-budget production of Romeo and Juliet she’d once seen in the Village. The actors wore street clothes and spoke the beautiful lines in unfiltered New York accents.
“Ever traveled?” he said, sitting next to her.
“Just to a few states, that’s all.”
“You on your own now?”
“Pretty much.” She sipped on the can, conscious of his eyes falling all over her body. The body he would soon be seeing.
“Life on the road can get rough. It pays to make a few good friends. You got a good start with Sonia.”
“She’s really cool. Have you met many of her friends?”
“None as nice as you, I gotta say.” His hand touched her knee, lightly. “Can I get you another soda?”
“I’m okay. It’s bad for your teeth.” She felt like rubbing the spot he had just touched.
“You got a nice smile. I’m sure I’m not the first guy to tell you that.”
“I guess you sort of are.” No man had ever been this close to her.
“No way.” He put his hand under her chin. “How old are you?”
“Fourteen.” She went for another sip, so he’d withdraw the hand.
“You have a boyfriend?”
“Not yet.”
“You’re a really cute girl, Lisa. You could go far just on your looks alone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think that’s pretty clear. What do you want out of life?”
“To be at peace.”
“That’s one I didn’t expect. Money, security, a home―they can give you peace of mind. It’s all attainable.”
“How?”
“Take an inventory of all your assets. Ask yourself what you have to offer. You have two huge assets―looks and youth. The world is very looks and youth oriented. I think you’re also smart enough to know what I’m saying to you, so I’ll stop there. Do you know what I’m saying?”
“I think so.”
“Do you or don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Give it some thought.” He rose to change the music even though the remote was next to him. Andean flutes filled the air. Rachel could sense what he was going to do next. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her.
“You nervous, Lisa?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
“I’ve never been in a guy’s house before.”
“Sonia’ll tell you I’m a good friend to people who are good to me. So relax. You like this music?”
“Sure, I like New Age.”
“What do you listen to?” he asked.
“Believe it or not, I like classical.”
“Who in particular?”
“Yo Yo Ma on cello playing Bach.” His hand rubbed her shoulder and she knew where it was going next.
“I have to pick up a copy, so I can impress my friends the way you’re impressing me.”
“Am I?”
“You know you are.” His hand slid down around her waist. Next stop―her left breast.
“Um, I guess I could use another soda,” she said.
“Hey, relax. I’m cool.” He got her another can. “How do you like these speakers? Get up, I
want to show you something.” Rachel did so, relieved at the distance.
“Press against the speaker, embrace it. Now feel this.” He turned the dial and the sound pounded against Rachel’s heart. It beat against her thighs. Her hands finally rose up to her ears.
“Four-hundred watts. It could double as a defibrillator. Feel it going through your body? Some girls tell me they can orgasm like that.”
“Do you give all your guests that little demo?” she asked, ignoring the last remark.
“I don’t get many guests here. I’m selective about my company. I can tell you that I already like your company.” He sat down on the couch, but now with some distance between them.
“Same here. Thanks for the soda.”
“How long have you been on your own?”
“About three months.”
“If you don’t mind me askin’, how’ve you been getting by?”
“The kindness of strangers.”
“Well, I hope you and me don’t stay strangers after tonight. I’d like to be your friend. I liked you as soon as I saw you, and I want you to know that you’re welcome to come here any time you want, no strings. I don’t make that offer to everyone.”
“I really appreciate it, Jack. That’s very sweet of you.” No way she’d spend time alone with this creep.
The meal went easily. The host was a good talker and created the illusion of an uncle lunching with his favorite nieces.
“That was a great meal. Well, I’m ready for a little entertainment, ladies.”
“As you wish,” said Sonia. “I’m going to jump in the shower.”
Rachel, fearing being left alone again said, “I―I guess I’ll go too.”
“You can use the other shower in the guest room. Straight down and to the left.”
As Rachel let the water run over her, she began to hyperventilate. There would be no Plexiglas screen between her and the client this time. No three-hundred pound bouncer. She would be naked in his house locked behind a steel door. And what did she believe she could accomplish by this? How far would she go to get a scrap of information? For a smart girl, look what you’ve gotten yourself into.
hen Rachel walked out of the shower, Sonia was already dressed in a black garter belt, black stockings, a bustier, and stiletto heels. Rachel put on her black lace thong, thigh-high stockings, and bra.
The Schwarzschild Radius Page 9
