by Jonas Saul
Sarah dialed Dekker’s number while it was still fresh in her mind. It looked slightly different than the phone number Vivian had her call when she told Dekker about the women in the canal wrapped in chicken wire.
He answered before the first ring ended. “Sarah?” he said, almost sounding glad to hear from her.
“The women? The canal? Was I right?”
“Yes.” He paused, took a deep breath. “Where are you?” he asked.
“That’s not why I called.”
“Then why?”
“Another body.”
“What?” he paused, cleared his throat. “Where? Wait a second, I can’t spend all day running around Amsterdam collecting bodies. What the hell is going on, Sarah?”
“James Wong is scared. He’s on the run. He’s taking out the trash before he’s incriminated on too many charges to ever see the light of day.”
“Our intelligence suggests Wong has fled the city,” Dekker said.
Sarah’s hands shook with anger. After all she had done to get here. Leaving Aaron behind, alone, in Toronto. She couldn’t raise Parkman on the phone. Her parents being detained by government officials. All she sacrificed to nail Wong and now he up and left the city.
“He had better not have fled the city. For your sake.”
“For my sake?” Dekker’s voice rose. “What the hell does that mean?”
Sarah breathed in and out twice, calming breaths.
“You still there?” Dekker asked.
“How well do you know James Wong?”
“We have a fair amount of intel on him. Why?”
“Nikki de Haas. Ring a bell?”
“Yeah, one of his floozies. Why?”
“Do you know where de Haas lived? You have an address?”
“I can get it. But I won’t give it to you.”
“Nikki’s dead,” Sarah said, and then glanced at Amber to see how she was handling it. She seemed fine and even nodded back at Sarah to keep going. “Wong killed her in her apartment.”
“How do you know all this?” Dekker asked. “And the girls in the canal. Were you there? Are you in touch with someone who was there?”
“If I told you I was psychic, you wouldn’t believe me. So read about me online. This is your second base. Third base is coming.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Sarah? This isn’t a game. People are dying here. Since you arrived, Amsterdam has turned into a bloodbath.”
“This isn’t a game?” she repeated. “What was your fake interrogation for then? To get my cooperation to go to the warehouse? I was supposed to die there, wasn’t I? You sent me to die, Dekker. This is a game for you. You rolled the dice first and I hate losing. I’ll call back in half an hour. Make sure you’ve located Nikki’s body by then. It’s in the bedroom of the apartment. I can see it clearly. She’s behind the bed. When you enter the room, at first you’ll just see her wrist sticking out from behind her bed. She’s into fashion magazines. I can see them lined up against the wall under the window. Go Dekker. Find the body. Then I have one more body to tell you about.” She looked at the cop handcuffed to the wall. “After that, we meet.”
“I’ll go now. Give me half an hour.”
Sarah disconnected the call, popped the battery out of the cell and stepped on the phone.
“I’ll use the other phone for my last call to Dekker,” she said to Amber. “When this is over, I can replace these phones.”
“Don’t worry. They were gifts to you. You know how much these girls make?” Amber shook her head. “It’s insane. They can afford it.”
“Can you cover for me?” Sarah asked.
“Cover? What do you mean?”
“I have to go somewhere. I won’t be long. Watch him.” She pointed at Prins.
“But Sarah, you can’t show your face on the street. You’ll get picked up.”
“Disguise me, then.”
Amber studied her for a moment. “Come on, I’ve got just the thing.”
At the door to the dungeon, Sarah turned back to Officer Prins. “I’ll be back.”
He started to protest as she shut the door, cutting off his voice mid-sentence. The dungeon was almost one hundred percent sound proof for the few customers that preferred to be whipped. Madam didn’t want other customers put off by the wailing and crying coming from the basement.
Upstairs, Amber offered Sarah a couple of quick fixes to disguise her appearance and after fifteen minutes, Sarah was out on the streets of Amsterdam, makeup done and a wig in place, headed to the warehouse where she wanted to meet Dekker later.
The same warehouse where the bodies of Sven Spaans and the undercover cop had already been removed. Where police tape still hung, cordoning off the area, billowing in the soft breeze.
The same warehouse where she would set her trap for Dekker.
Chapter 35
Desperation filled Sarah’s stomach with acid as she walked, further agitating her frayed nerves. The not knowing was the worst. Not knowing what had happened to Aaron. Not knowing how Mexico was related to it. Not knowing what had happened to Parkman and her parents. It was harder to not know than to have answers.
She needed Dekker and his knowledge of Wong in order to get to Wong. She needed to finish what she had started. It was the only way. And the way things were going, before long she would be on a flight to wherever Wong fled to or she would return to Canada and look for Aaron and Parkman while making calls to the government in search of her parents.
She hurried along to the first sports store she could find and tried to find baseball bats. When she was told that baseball wasn’t a very popular sport in the Netherlands and that she would be hard pressed to locate a bat, she bought two cricket paddles.
At the warehouse, she crouched under the police tape and snuck in the back through the same doors she’d exited with Amber. At the center of the warehouse, she stopped, closed her eyes and breathed in the quiet atmosphere. This would work. Three exits. Walls lined with shelves. There was enough light coming in through the small windows that rimmed the roof’s edge about thirty feet up. With the summer sun lasting into the early evening, if she could get Dekker here before dark, they wouldn’t need flashlights.
Sarah felt Vivian close and let her in. After a brief internal exchange, Sarah placed the cricket paddles where Vivian told her to—safely away and out of sight—and exited the warehouse the same way she had entered.
On the way back to the brothel, she felt eyes on her. Like someone was following her. The wig Amber had given her and the ’80s gaudy leather jacket with Michael Jackson zippers everywhere made it hard for anyone to see her true identity. The boots were a size too big and didn’t match the jacket. She stood out, but not in a good way. No one could look at the poster of Sarah Roberts on a light post and say this Joan-Jett-meets-Michael-Jackson wannabe had to be her. Impossible.
But she still felt eyes on her. Turning around to catch someone stalking her proved futile. Either it was all in her head, or her pursuer was professional enough to follow her without being noticed.
If that was the case, then it had to be Casper. And if it was Casper, then he would reveal himself when he needed to. And when that time came, Sarah would get her answers out of him. Consequences were funny things. Whether your intentions were good or bad, everything was bound by cause and effect. Casper had a lot of explaining to do. He knew more than he was letting on. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t seen it before. But nothing would get past her again.
Whether Casper meant her harm or was trying to help her, he had to be held accountable for his role in all this, whatever this was.
Not only was she determined to learn of his role, she was the one who wanted to mete out his consequences. Drawing first blood should be on her epitaph one day. With people like Casper, it seemed to be the only thing that worked, the only thing that got through to them.
And Inspector Dekker, too.
Thinking of Dekker, she quickened her pace and forgot about
being watched as she ran back to the brothel to call him.
Chapter 36
Amber greeted her at the door. “Where have you been? We were worried.”
“Worried?” Sarah yanked the wig off and undid the jacket.
“If you disappear, we’re just another brothel with a cop tied up in our basement. Scary for the Madam and the girls. Doesn’t bode well for business.”
“Have you got the other phone?” Sarah asked, ignoring her last statement. Amber handed it over. “Come on. Follow me down to the dungeon. This is my last call to Dekker.”
On the way down, she wondered what Amber had meant about it being scary for the girls. All they had to do was call the police and say that the American girl had locked the place down and kidnapped a cop. Their story would be that as soon as Sarah had left the premises, they had unlocked Officer Prins and that would be it. So what would worry them? Why be concerned? Unless there was something else at play. The same something that caused Amber to be practically giddy when she heard the plan of kidnapping a policeman to get to Dekker. Even Madam bought into it. Sarah figured she’d learn what their hidden agenda was soon enough but for now, as long as they played along, she was fine with having them. This task would prove to be a lot harder without their support.
Amber unlocked the dungeon’s door and stepped back. What if Prins broke his wrist or pulled off a Gerald’s Game and cut his skin, using blood to lubricate the cuff from his wrist, then Sarah needed to be the first one in.
The gun back in her hand, she used her foot to nudge the door inward.
Officer Prins was where she had left him, his wrist firmly secure in the cuff attached to the wall.
“I need to use the toilet,” he pleaded.
“Later. We’re almost done here.”
Sarah dialed Dekker’s cell number from memory. He answered right away.
“Dekker here.”
It was a new phone. He would have no way to know it was Sarah calling.
“Did you locate Nikki’s body?” Sarah asked.
“We did. Just as you said it would be. Now what?”
“We meet.”
Dekker sounded like he exhaled pent-up breath. He was probably tired of racing around Amsterdam to dead body sites. Meeting Sarah, apprehending her, was probably his primary goal. With it being her idea, he would be relieved. But he had no idea what she had in store for him.
“Where?” he asked.
Sarah stared across the room at Officer Prins. Each time she was on the phone he didn’t cry out for help. Smart man. He knew his predicament and what would benefit him and what would damage him.
“The warehouse.”
“What warehouse? The same one where you shot—” Dekker stopped. “Where you met Sven?”
“The same.”
“When?”
“An hour.”
“Come alone, I presume? Is that what you’ll say next?”
“I’d have it no other way.”
“How can you trust me to not bring a hundred cops, surround the place and never let you leave alive?” Dekker asked.
“Because I’ve got one of yours.”
“You’ve got what?”
“Listen.” Sarah brought the phone up to Prins’ face. “Say something, Patrol Officer Prins.”
Prins identified himself, gave his badge number and added for Dekker’s benefit that Sarah was crazy.
“That’s good enough, Prins,” Sarah said.
When Sarah put the phone back to her ear, Dekker was already talking.
“… I cannot believe that. How dare you? Sarah, this has to end—”
“Shut up, Dekker.”
He stopped talking. There was no sound on the other end of the line. No car engine, no wind.
Where is he? Still in Amber’s apartment? Standing over Nikki’s corpse?
“Dekker?”
“Yeah.”
“Meet me. Answer a few questions, then you can have your cop back. That’s the deal. If I see one cop within a mile of that warehouse other than you, Officer Prins dies. I might decide to call you from the States to tell you where you can locate his body. Or maybe I won’t. Who knows? Just come alone so I don’t have to kill another cop.”
“Sarah, I don’t have to tell you in the event that you flee, we can arrange with the American authorities to have you brought back for trial—”
“Dekker,” she shouted, cutting him off. His voice had been rising, anger getting the best of him. “You’re forgetting who holds the cards. Shut the fuck up and listen. Be at that warehouse. Come alone. Be unarmed. Anything else costs Prins his life and possibly yours.”
She clicked off, pulled out the cell’s battery and smashed the phone under her heel.
She whispered to Amber, “The girls know the drill. Let’s suit up and head over to the warehouse. I suspect Dekker’s still at your place. That’s enough time to set up in and around the warehouse and wait and watch. But first, I need the phone with the recording of Sven killing the undercover cop on it.”
Amber reached into her back pocket and handed it over.
“Perfect,” Sarah said. “I’m right behind you.”
Amber turned and disappeared upstairs.
Sarah checked the battery life on the phone—55%—then pivoted to face the cop tied to the wall. “You will stay here. When Dekker and I are done and I have what I want, I will tell Dekker where you are. He can come and release you himself.”
“Hey. Aren’t you supposed to bring me to this warehouse of yours to trade me for him?”
“If I bring you and Dekker betrays me, which I expect him to, then what do I have? So no, you stay here. Don’t you see,” she said in a kid’s voice, “you’re my bargaining chip?”
“When you’re handcuffed in the police station, I’ll be what you offer up for a reduced sentence. That’s your bargaining chip. Nobody kills cops. Nobody.”
“If a cop deserves to go, I’m glad to be the one to do it.” She smiled. “Let’s hope I don’t need you to bargain with for a reduced sentence. I might only get a year shaved off my time. The court process is slow. It could take months to get to sentencing decisions. Who’s going to feed you? Huh? You better hope Dekker does this right. Hope Dekker doesn’t fuck up.”
A look of despair and hopelessness crossed Prins face. “Can I at least be tied up lower so I can sit? What about a pee break? Come on. Best case, I’m released in a few hours. I’m gonna piss myself in that time.”
Sarah kicked the chair across the room to him. He caught the back of it with his free hand, straightened it and sat down.
“Piss in the corner. Isn’t that what they use this room for anyway? Golden showers?”
Sarah activated the camera feature on the phone and filmed Officer Prins in his chair, one arm handcuffed to the wall and then left the dungeon, closed and locked the door. Upstairs in Madam’s office, everyone waited for her.
“As long as Dekker plays ball, I meet him in the warehouse in one hour but I want to be there early.”
“Each girl knows what to do,” Madam said. “Amber says there are three entrances to the building.”
Sarah nodded.
“Okay, we will have two girls per entrance plus one on the roof of the warehouse. She’ll watch the streets below.”
Madam got up from her desk and walked over to a painting on the wall. She lifted it off to reveal a safe. After a few turns of the dial, she pulled on the handle and opened the safe. Sarah watched as Madam removed a box about the size of two shoe boxes put together. She placed it on her desk, leaving the door to the safe ajar.
“You all know how to use a gun?” Madam asked.
The girls around the room nodded.
“I’m not asking you to shoot anybody. But we need to help Sarah. If you ever wonder or doubt what we are doing, remember Sven. Remember when he would rape Amber on a weekly basis. Remember when he would take a girl of his choosing whenever he wanted. Just remember who he worked for. It’s that man that Sarah
is going after. With a little surveillance, we can help Sarah get him. The guns are for your protection. If you don’t want one, I’ll understand.” Madam opened the box on her desk. Inside were Rugers, Berettas, and a few Walthers. “If you do want one, take your pick. They’re all loaded.”
As if ravenous for food and someone had stuck a loaf of bread on the desk, all the girls in the room grabbed for the guns at the same time.
