by Rene Natan
Time to relax, he thought, and turned on the TV. He could watch as many shows as he wanted since tomorrow was his free day. He clicked on Guide to see what was available at such a late hour. Rio Bravo was showcasing. Good, he thought. He liked how John Wayne solved the problems that popped up in the old west. He wished he could do the same at the police station.
He watched the movie for a bit and fell asleep.
The blast of a car horn woke him. He looked at the clock on top of the fireplace mantel. It was ten o’clock in the morning. He rose, pushed aside the curtains and looked out. Constable Lopes waved a pair of keys in front of the window and then deposited them on top of Stevenson’s car hood. He saluted Stevenson and quickly hopped into the cruiser waiting for him. It was nice to bring my car here, Stevenson thought. He stretched his limbs, cramped by a night spent in the recliner, and walked outside to retrieve his keys. He quickly re-entered and walked upstairs to shower.
As he got dressed and ate his breakfast, he collected his thoughts. He had an important trip in mind. He entered his Nissan and began driving.
The Tranquility Resort Complex drifted into sight after a curve of the road; twenty independent units spread over a manicured lawn, followed by a building cupped by a small tower. On the other side of the road stood a fountain with five dolphins spurting interlaced jets of water. Stevenson parked far away from the entrance and walked to the building, his eyes scouring the environment. He entered the premises; the reception was on the right, the bar and the restaurant to the left. The reception desk was unmanned, so he proceeded to the restaurant.
A waiter met him right away, and said, “Sorry, sir. We won’t have any tables until 2:00 p.m. Wait at the bar, please, and have a drink on us.” He pointed to a shiny black counter and a row of barrel chairs.
Stevenson hesitated, then said, “Well, it’s a nice day. I may take a little walk and come back later.” From the number of cars in the parking lot, he’d expected the restaurant to be full. He returned to the lobby, still deserted, and proceeded to the back. From a truck with the script, Frozen Foods, a man unloaded several boxes, taking them to what Stevenson guessed was the kitchen. He didn’t notice any other activities. He retraced his steps and walked outside. He circled the units, each with parking at the front and flowerbeds on the sides. It was a nice complex, and the name seemed quite appropriate, since the place exuded peace and relaxation. There were no fences around the property, not laterally and not at the back, so Stevenson walked on the grass until he met thick bushes punctuated by birches, maples, and an occasional boulder. He walked alongside the woods on the left and looked for a path into the undergrowth. He couldn’t find any. He repeated the operation on the right; he found only thicker bushes. Not much he could do. Once back in his office, he’d consult a map of the area and find out whether that area was designated farming or residential. A call at the land registry would provide him with the owner’s name or the company’s affiliation.
Time to have a meal and a chat with the waiter, he thought. So far, Mr. Camilo Estorbar’s business looked legit and productive.
Nine
As soon as Louis appeared on the threshold, Selina rushed into his arms.
“I’m so happy you’re here!” she said and rubbed her face against his chest. “Dolores is dead!”
Louis dropped his backpack on the floor and caressed her hair. “Sorry,” he said. “I saw her at the hospital, and she looked pretty bad. How come she got so sick?”
“Don’t know. It started two weeks ago. Pain, blood, a lot of blood,” Selina said.
The other girls clustered around, looking at him expectantly. One said, “Rose made us work, work, work. Mr. Estorbar fired Rose.”
“Where is Maria?” Louis asked. Maria was older, and it was easier to communicate with her.
“Packing. She wants to sneak out,” said Selina. She held Louis’ hand in hers.
“If Rose is gone, who will run this place?” Louis asked.
“Nobody. No work for two days,” said Selina.
Louis approached the counter and poured himself some tea. The motorbike ride had made him thirsty. “Go get Maria, please,” he said.
One of the girls offered him some crackers, and Louis gladly accepted them. He had only nibbled at the food Stevenson had bought for him, and he’d been on the go all day.
Maria already had her coat on when she entered the room. “You look good,” she said to Louis. “You’ve put on at least five pounds! Where have you been?”
“At the hospital first, and then at the Men’s Mission. They fed me well. Tell me what happened here.”
“Can’t say much. There was this big fellow who came in every other day and wanted to have sex with Dolores. She complained that it hurt a lot and made her bleed afterwards. She asked Rose to send him off to another girl. First Rose agreed, but then the fellow gave Rose a pile of money to fuck Dolores, and the girl had no choice. First she had pain for hours after he was gone, then the heavy bleeding started. Rose tried to keep us away from her, but we knew she was very sick. Blood all over the bathroom floor.”
Louis sipped his tea. The situation was grim. He could take Selina with him and flee, but he surely couldn’t help all the other girls. He knew of two who had been sold to Camilo by their parents. Would the Canadian government send them back to their country? If so, they’d be severely punished, as the parents would have to refund the local mobs. He’d heard horrible stories about that.
Steps resounded in the corridor that led to the girls’ living quarters. Only Rose Miller, Camilo Estorbar, and Vicente Perdiz had the key to access the main entry.
“Hide!” Selina said to Louis.
With a quick move Louis grabbed his backpack, jumped on the other side of the counter and squatted there. Maria took off her coat and sat on it. All the other girls kept quiet.
Vicente appeared, unbuttoned his coat, and scrutinized the room. “Camilo sent me to give you good news. We cancelled all appointments for the next three days. The day after tomorrow Gisela Cunnigham will be here to get you organized.” He looked around and counted the girls. “Good, you’re all here.”
“No, Dolores isn’t here,” Selina murmured.
Vicente ignored her and tossed a few CDs on the counter. “This is good stuff. Load them onto the computer in the guests’ rooms. And be sure you turn on the computer before a guest arrives. Pretty images help our customers to get in the mood faster.” He laughed. “You know what I mean.”
He looked around. He quickly marched to the back of the room and checked on the back door. It opened, so he exited from it, closed it and locked it. Nobody uttered a word until the sound of Vicente’s steps faded.
Louis got up and asked, “Who’s Gisela?”
“The Frog!” a few girls said together.
Maria rose and slipped her coat on. “Gisela is a terrible person. She spied on us and went to spill the beans to Rose. Then she was caught breaking into Rose’s computer, and Rose fired her. She didn’t work much; she was too old and ugly.” Maria hugged each of the young women in turn. “Good luck to you,” she said to Louis. “I have to hurry. A friend of mine will pick me up at the motel. It’s a ten minute walk, so I should be going.”
“How will you get out?” Selina asked.
“I stole Rose’s key.”
“I’ll come with you and get the key after you open the door,” Louis said. When he was back, he asked Selina, “Can I stay here tonight?”
Selina kissed him on his cheek. “Of course.”
“I propose we all go to bed. Tomorrow morning we think how to find a safe place where to stay once we all get out. I know a few people in town.”
Selina took his hand and led him to the room she shared with three other girls. Two sets of bunk beds faced each other, with just five feet in between. Blankets and clothes were piled up at the back. Louis grabbed a blanket, tossed it on the floor and lay on it, making a pillow out of his backpack. He was asleep before the girls climbed into thei
r beds.
Louis couldn’t tell whether he slept one or many hours when he was awakened by voices coming from outside. At first, he couldn’t orient himself, then he recognized the room he was in and, soon after, Camilo’s and Vicente’s voices. The two men were outside the front entrance, blocking an easy escape. He rose, put the backpack on his shoulder, and shook Selina awake.
“I need your help,” he whispered.
“Oh, what’s happening?”
“They’re here to get me. I’m going to hide behind the food counter in the big room.”
“And?”
“You have to try to keep them in here before they start searching all over. I’ll sneak behind them and take off.” Louis grabbed his blanket and a few clothes that lay around, rolled them together to simulate the presence of a real person and deposited them close to Selina. “Stay in bed and pray for me.” He found his way to the big room, jumped over the counter and squatted as low as he could.
He heard Camilo saying, “Finally, you got the key out! Open this fucking door! This time I’m going to kill Louis, I swear! Driving here with that motorbike of his and hiding with the girls. Just wait until I put my hands around his neck!”
Louis heard the men stomping across the room and rushing into the girls’ bedrooms. He didn’t hesitate a second; he vaulted over the counter, ran through the corridor that led outside, exited, turned around the building and got hold of his motorbike. He pushed on it as quietly as he could and didn’t climb on it until he was out of the compound.
Ten
Gisela Cunnigham put down the phone, ambivalent about Camilo’s proposal, vindicated that Rose Miller had been fired, and satisfied Camilo had offered her Rose’s job. But things were different, now. Rose believed she’d tampered with her computer files, but Gisela had managed to break into Camilo Estorbar’s schedule of his monthly activities. She knew of the delivery Louis was supposed to make in the parking lot of the drugstore, well out of town. Her plan was to rob Louis as soon as he walked out of Camilo’s office, but Louis had come out already in the saddle of his motorbike, skirted her by a few inches, and took off for his destination. She had to change plans on the fly. She quickly reached for her car. Even bumping into a light post and smashing her right light didn’t deter her from chasing Louis—after all, she knew where he was going. In the midst of the raging blizzard she’d also taken the wrong road. In spite of that, she’d managed to make it in time to the place of the delivery. The presence of a police car had made her park on the opposite side of the road. She’d approached the parking lot on foot and glued herself to the building side, so that the police couldn’t spot her. She’d almost frozen to death, and had been ready to call it quits when Louis had come out of nowhere and tossed the precious package into the hands of a woman exiting the store.
She was about to confront the woman when a lot of commotion happened at once. The store turned off the inside light; the woman dropped the package and the police car started to chase Louis. She’d quietly picked up the package and walked back to her car.
A consumer of heroin, she’d set aside what she needed, and sold the remainder to a handful of Camilo’s clients who’d become her own. For the time being, she didn’t need any money or a new job. She was fairly content the way things were.
Gisela adjusted the pillow behind her back and looked around. The two summer scenes hanging on the main wall gave the sitting room a cheerful tone; the sofa and the upholstered chair were new and comfortable. With time, she’d add a few décor items to make the place a bit fancier. Her clients were mainly older fellows who didn’t expect much luxury and were happy with her reasonable fees.
The doorbell interrupted her musings. She rose and looked through the peephole. To her great surprise, it was Maria, the oldest of the young women who worked at The Tranquility. She opened the door with mixed feelings. None of the girls liked her, and Maria was no exception.
“Hi, Gisela,” Maria said. “Can I come in?” A blue mark surrounded her right eye, her hair was tousled, and her coat had been ripped off at the front.
Gisela opened the door wide enough for Maria to walk in and closed it behind her.
“What’s the occasion?” Gisela asked, in a rather cool voice.
“I got out. I’m on my own.” She deposited a big bag on the floor. “A big disaster at The Tranquility. I came to see you for two reasons. One, it’s to ask you if I can stay here for a couple of nights. The friend who helped me escape turned out to be a total jerk; all he wanted was to be my next pimp.” Maria paused. “When I refused, he beat me up.” Gisela nodded, but remained quiet. “Second, to warn you about going back and taking Rose’s place. Some of the girls are sick; Dolores has died.”
“Dolores is dead? Dolores, the little dark-haired doll who always smiled?”
“Yes. Rose took her to the hospital, but it was too late.”
“What happened?”
“They made her work and work.”
“A lot of clients liked her.”
They were standing in the hallway and Maria asked, “Can we sit down?”
Gisela shook her head. “Oh, no. Camilo called me and asked me to take over. I didn’t accept, so I expect him to come here and throw his weight around. You have to leave.”
“I have only a bit of money and no place to stay.” She joined her hands in prayer. “I’d be no trouble, promise.”
Gisela shook her head, lifted Maria’s bag, and put it in her hands.
“Please,” Maria pleaded.
“Go away. I can’t help you.” She pushed her toward the door and opened it. “Get out and don’t come back.”
After Maria was gone, Gisela went to the kitchen and poured herself a whiskey. Maria had been one of the girls who made fun of her, especially about her face. Gisela took her drink to the sitting room and stopped in front of an ornate mirror. She’d get plastic surgery as soon as she could afford it. Her nose was large and flat, her jawbones were well-pronounced and her eyes too far apart—that was the reason they nicknamed her The Frog.
Chimes resounded, and Gisela moved to the door and looked through the pinhole. A short woman was standing outside, a few blondish hairs peeping out of her ski hat, a round face where acne had left its marks. Gisela didn’t recognize the woman, so she asked her what the reason for her visit was.
“My name is Debby White, and I have some information you may be interested in.”
Gisela put the little chain on and kept the door ajar.
“What kind of information?”
“I know where you got your supply of drugs,” Debby said in a low voice.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Gisela answered curtly.
“Fine. I just want some, say twenty thousand dollars. The police may want it all, and they may add a few years of jail as an extra.”
Gisela froze. Nobody had seen her pick up the famous package. But then how did this woman know about it? She hesitated and then said, “I don’t believe you. You’re bluffing. You don’t know a thing.”
“Oh, but I do know. Remember the night when we had the big blizzard? I saw a guy toss a package in the hands of a woman. The woman dropped it. While the police were chasing the guy, you popped out of nowhere and picked up the package.” There was silence for a while, and then White continued, “As I was closing up the drugstore, I saw you walking away, keeping the package close to your chest, like it was your baby. I followed you. You fell just in front of a car with a broken light, and stuff slid out of your purse.” Debby waved a piece of plastic close to Gisela’s nose. “After you left I recovered your driver’s license.”
Gisela whacked the card out of her hand. “Fuck off! Never been out the night of the blizzard. You have a great imagination.” Gisela wanted her to go away; she doubted she’d go to the police.
White extended her right hand. “Give me a few thousand. Call it a goodwill gesture.”
Goodwill? She didn’t have any. “I don’t give you nothing. Go away!” Gis
ela shouted. She pushed the woman’s hand away and slammed the door closed.
“You’ll regret it,” White shouted back.
Gisela sat on her sofa and finished her drink. How in the world had the woman found out about the content of the package? Only Camilo and Vicente knew. They probably hadn’t even told Louis what the package was all about! Only a lucky guess, probably. She rose and wrote down the woman’s name. She should find out who she was and where she lived.
She returned to the sofa and stretched out.
There was the sound of a broken chain and the door flung open. Camilo busted in, a cigar in his mouth, leaving a trail of ash on the floor. Unfortunately, she hadn’t deadbolted the door after Debby White had left.
The man didn’t say a word, just marched into her bedroom and came back with two suitcases. He threw one onto the sofa, the other on top of her feet.
“Get packing and make it snappy,” he said. “You have to go with Vicente.” He gestured toward the door threshold where his second in command was standing. “One girl managed to take off, and the others are restless; they need somebody to get them organized.”
Gisela didn’t move. “I’m not coming. You folks threw me out without a penny of compensation, and now I have my own business.”
“Yes, you stole some of our clients. That’s how you survived.” He stood in front of her. “Your face is ugly, but I can make it uglier in a jiffy.” He waved his fist close to her face. “Move!”
Gisela rose and trudged to the bedroom to get clothes from the closet and drawers. She packed them in the suitcases and followed Vicente.
One day she’d make Camilo pay for all the pain he’d inflicted her.
