Frankly, My Detective Page 6

  Galina looked down at the small face before her. She stared into Malaya’s eyes, almond-shaped like her own, but so dark they reminded her of chocolate kisses. She had come to love this frail little Filipina woman, even though they’d only known each other for a short time. Perhaps their dire circumstances bonded them together but unlike Malaya, Galina had no real faith in God. But she did believe in the cruelty and ruthlessness of their captors. How they each came to be in this frigid attic with its smell of mold and despair was a different story from the one they’d hoped for. But Galina was certain their stories would end the same way and she shivered again, but this time not from the cold.

  CHAPTER SIX

  At first, working as a barmaid in the big yellow mansion had seemed like a dream to Galina. She and her roommate, Malaya had often spoken about how lucky they were to have such good jobs and such a nice place to live. The house they shared with other women who worked with them while not as fancy as the mansion, was so much nicer than either one of them had ever lived in before. Their rent was reasonable, taken out of their wages, so no problem to them. At first. Over the course of the two years they worked there, the rent slowly increased as did their ‘insurance’ payments. While getting fitted for new uniforms, Galina had asked Francesca, Cosmo’s administrative assistant and general manager of the club why and she got the curt reply. “Everything goes up, m’dear. We have bills to pay, too.”

  Galina always felt intimidated by Francesca, which is exactly what the other woman intended, not only by her officious manner, but even by the way she dressed. This day Francesca was impeccably attired as usual. She wasn’t tall, but the four-inch stiletto heels that clicked across the highly polished wooden floor made her appear so. Her dark hair, perpetually shiny and loose, just reached her shoulders. She wore a Chanel Suit, classic black with white piping on the lapels and a snowy satin camisole cut just low enough to be sexy and still tasteful.

  Galina swallowed and spoke softly, “Yes, I understand, but I am trying hard to save money for myself, my future, and it is getting harder. And I still have to pay for these new uniforms. When I work café in Russia, I get to keep my tips. Why not here?”

  Francesca put a red-tipped index finger under Galina’s chin, her sharp acrylic nail biting slightly into the skin as she raised the young woman’s face, her dark, cold eyes fixed on Galina’s nervous ones. “You need to understand, Galina. We are a very private enterprise, so we take care of the accounting here, and we divide the tips according to our rules. And by now you know you are to follow the rules of this club exactly? It is VERY important that you understand. Do you?” Her gaze was so deep and steady, Galina stood rigidly, afraid she’d shiver and show the manager just how uneasy she was. She gulped and began to nod, but the fingernail point was still in place, so she just said, “Yes, Mz. I understand. I vill work hard, you vill zee.”

  Francesca gave her something that should have passed for a smile. “Good!” She removed her finger, turned and spoke to Darcy, the blonde cocktail lounge manager, “Make sure she has the new lace tights only under that skirt, and don’t forget, no bras. We know the members want that ‘natural’ look about our girls.” She and Darcy shared conspiratorial half-smiles, half-smirks. As she walked out of the fitting room, she picked up a tissue out of the box on the fabric cutting table and vigorously wiped her finger.

  Back in her office, Francesca picked up her phone and left a message for her boss, Cosmo. “Sir, the Russian girl is complaining and questioning again. Think we should keep an eye on her and possibly the roommate as well. Tell Leo and the other drivers to be alert. May have a runner here.” Francesca was right, as usual. That’s why Cosmo had her as his right hand. Her instincts were always spot on. She’d saved him a lot of grief and money over the years and that made her indispensable to him and they both knew it. She was that good.

  Galina’s fears grew more and more as she watched one woman after another simply disappear from their house without any explanation. A few days later she confided to Malaya she had seen people in Russia disappear the same way and was going to find a way to escape. Hearing this, Malaya had crossed herself and shivered.

  Galina asked, “What is it?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  It started one late night when the young Russian woman couldn’t sleep. Galina was smoking a cigarette in the dark in the bathroom she shared with Malaya and three other housemates. Pondering for the hundredth time how she could get away from this place, this employment she now saw as a prison, she drew deeply on her cigarette, shivering as she thought of the ugly man who had, not for the first time, run his hand up her short skirt that night. He had pulled her close and grasped her buttock, squeezing hard. When she flinched and instinctively pulled away, the trouble began. “What the hell! Who do you think you are, princess?” He reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her down so close to his face, she could smell his breath reeking of Scotch, garlic and something akin to death as he fairly spat at her. “I pay damned good money to be treated well in this place, so you better make sure I AM treated really well. Get it? Me and your boss go way back, bitch, so I can make it easy for you or very hard.” He leered at her frightened look. “And speaking of hard...” As he pulled her hand towards his crotch, Jackson, like the good bouncer he was, appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

  “Hey, there, Mr. G. How we doin’ here, everything all right?” He said this as he released the man’s grip on Galina so quickly the ugly man looked down at his empty paw as if he’d suddenly lost something. Jackson turned just as swiftly to Galina. “Go to the break room, I’ll meet you there. Go now!” Turning back to the now protesting customer, Jackson, ever professional, slipped into the plush seat next to him. “Mr. G. our apologies, sir. She’s a Ruskie, right off the boat and still learnin’ what’s up, if you catch my drift.” He gave the petulant man a conspiratorial wink. “Trust me, I’ll take care of this, and her. How about I send over Lorraine there? She knows the ropes around here and is a real pleaser. And your drinks are on the house tonight. Okay? Need some food or anything, huh? We can get you a room for the night if you don’t wanna drive. We know you’re good for it. Been with us a long time, huh?”

  Mr. G. pouted for a few minutes, looked over Jackson’s shoulder at Lorraine, petite, blonde, great figure, and relented. “Sure, Jackson, no trouble from me.” Leaning in he asked, “Lorraine, she like to travel? Got a good friend in Colombia who’d love a picture of her. Maybe take a little trip? I’ve helped your boss before. Whaddya think? Maybe work a deal? If it works out, maybe good for all concerned, huh?” He gave a guttural laugh. Jackson simply smiled.

  “We’ll see, Mr. G. Let me send Lorraine over. Let’s see how it goes and me, you and the boss maybe can talk.” Standing and patting the now perspiring man on the shoulder, Jackson walked over to the smiling Lorraine and pulled her toward the bar, leaning down to speak quietly in her ear.

  Standing in the dark bathroom, remembering, Galina sighed as she took one last drag, lifted the toilet seat and tossed the butt inside. Watching it sizzle and go out, she was just about to flush when she heard a noise of tires crunching on the driveway outside, but, oddly, saw no headlights. Closing the lid on the toilet, she knelt on it and pulled herself up to look out the narrow open window. The black SUV was instantly recognizable as one of the many always around the big yellow house. Two men got out, one carried a black bag that looked like a doctor’s bag, the other, clearly in charge, was mumbling to the second man. Galina could not make out what was being said, but ducked down quickly as the men approached the house. She warily crept down and went to the bathroom door. Cracking it open a fraction, she strained to hear. The front door was opened, a bit of light shown through a slightly opened door down the hallway. She instantly knew the light came from Lorraine’s room. The little blonde was so friendly and always very certain bigger and better things were ahead for her. The man who seemed to be in charge Galina recognized as Leo, and he went purposefully down to Lorraine’s room. Wit
hout knocking, he and the other driver walked quickly into the room and he closed the door behind him. Galina held her breath and waited. She heard voices: his, Lorraine’s, but the small woman’s voice soon rose in pitch and was quickly silenced. She heard what sounded like someone bouncing on a bed. Then: silence.

  Within minutes, Leo came out of the room, an unconscious Lorraine tossed over his large shoulder like a rag doll. The other driver entered the room quickly, unfurling large garbage bags. Galina pulled back into the black security of her hiding place, letting out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Shortly, she heard more movement from the room, and dared to peek out. The dark figure of the driver passed her carrying the now-full garbage bags. As he slipped by her, he dropped one of the laden bags, cursing quietly as he bent to pick it up not noticing that he left something on the floor. Galina heard the engine of the SUV start up and within a few short minutes they coasted down the driveway and were gone quickly, the household undisturbed as if they’d never been there at all.

  Galina waited a few minutes, her breath coming out in shallow spurts. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribs. When she was sure the taillights of the car had long disappeared, she ventured out into the darkened hallway towards hers and Malaya’s room. Feeling her way along the wall, she crept slowly, grateful most of her housemates were working the late shift at the yellow house. As she went past Lorraine’s room towards her own, her bare foot caught something on the floor. She bent down to disengage what had stopped her. Pulling it off her foot she held up a red thong panty, the very one Lorraine had held in the laundry room the day before, twirling it around her finger, waving at Galina in goodbye.

  And so their careful planning began. But as the poet said, “the best laid plans …” In the attic now, Galina opened her eyes, scrubbed the tears from her cheeks. But she couldn’t stop re-living the rest of her journey, the journey that started out so hopefully and had led to this place, her imprisonment and the terror of what might lie ahead. It all played out like a bad movie projected onto the dark window in front of her.

  Five days before Scarlett met Dawson at the bar and after weeks of planning, Malaya and Galina made their escape. They planned a shopping trip so they would have the one driver who wasn’t the brightest of the fleet. Usually the drivers wouldn’t even let the girls go to dressing rooms at the same time, let alone the rest room, but this driver, Tony, seemed a bit more sympathetic and Galina knew if she said she had “girl stuff” to do in the rest room, he’d relent quickly. And so once in the grocery store late in the afternoon, as the sunlight began to fade they went through the big doors behind the dairy case, past the restroom and out into the alleyway. They ran down the darkening alley to the street, and kept running until they got to a small boutique in the row of restored Victorian shops near the trolley stop in National City proper. The saleswoman was a bit surprised that they each found something so quickly, but smiled as they took the merchandise into the dressing room area. Changing quickly into the different clothes they’d packed, they pulled their baseball hats down low on their foreheads and quickly left the shop. It was fully dark now, and some street lights were turning on, but the two women looked around, saw no one in pursuit, and ran towards the trolley station. When they got to the station, they stayed in the darkness and waited. Breathless, Malaya whispered, “Remember, if somehow we get policeman talking to us or asking questions, we tell him, take us to police station and we tell them all about the big house, Si?”

  Galina nodded, shivering despite the balmy night. She turned to Malaya and asked quietly, “If we get to Los Angeles, can ve get to Hollyvood from da stazion?” She was so nervous, her studiously practiced English gave way and her Russian accent slipped back.

  “Maybe by a bus, I think, but we must keep moving, Galina, we have to get to my cousin’s to be safe.” Safe. It was what they both longed to be.

  “Well girls, maybe not Hollywood just yet, huh?” Galina gasped as she recognized the voice. It was the main bouncer, Billy. He and Leo had come up behind them in the darkness. Before they could move or speak, Billy made sure they saw the glint of his switchblade as he and Leo grabbed each woman by the arm.

  “Now, ladies,” Billy’s voice was low and gruff, “let’s not make a noise, a scene, nothin’, you hear, and that way we can make our way back to the house without anybody getting, shall we say, scratched up, huh?” Galina tried to pull away, but quickly felt the point of the blade poke into her upper arm, drawing blood. Billy tightened his grip and spoke with a low growl into her ear.

  “Listen, bitch, I have no problem cutting you and your little friend here. The boss don’t care as long as I don’t leave a visible scar; his customers may not like that, so don’t tempt me. Come on, nice and slow.”

  With that, he and Leo propelled them out of the waiting area to the two black SUV’s waiting on the street. Billy roughly pushed Galina into the back seat where another bouncer was waiting. He grabbed her and shoved her down on the floor as the two cars took off. Whenever she tried to move, the bouncer put his big foot on the back of her neck, forcing her to lay still, tears running down her cheeks onto the rough carpet. She feared Malaya was suffering the same way and dreaded what might happen next.

  Once stopped, the two women were dragged into the back entryway of the big yellow house, pushed into the service elevator and then propelled into Cosmo Di Stefano’s office where he, Francesca, and Tony were waiting. Malaya reached for Galina’s hand as they stood before the big desk, trembling. Billy pushed them apart, crossed his beefy arms across his chest and stood between them, glaring at one then the other.

  Cosmo sat puffing on his big noxious cigar for a few minutes before turning to Tony. “Come here, kid,” he said around the cigar. Tony approached the desk, hands behind his back, head bowed as he waited for Cosmo to speak.

  “You know you fucked up, right? These two, you were supposed to watch, you know they nearly got away, huh? You have any idea what would happen to our whole operation if they talked to the cops, you stupid little shit?”

  Tony opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut when he saw the look on his boss’s face. He just put his head down again and nodded. Cosmo paused for effect before he took the cigar out of his mouth and spoke again. “If Billy here hadn’t given me the heads-up that you were slackin’, I’d never have known, and we’d all be in it deep! So that’s why I sent him to trail you and these two bitches, ’cause he figured you weren’t up to the job of keeping tabs. And he was right, wasn’t he, idiota?” Again, Tony nodded, silent and pale.

  Cosmo continued, his voice deep but frightening, “So now what do we do, huh? Tony, you got a plum job here, but you blew it. I figure I gotta put you someplace else, ’cause you can’t cut it here.”

  At this, Tony found his tongue. “Boss, no, I promise I’ll be better, this won’t ever happen again, I swear. I don’t wanna go nowhere, please.”

  “Stai zitto! Shut it! You will go where I wantcha, and no crap, capito?” Turning to Francesca, he continued, “So now, what plans do we have for these two, huh?”

  Sighing, Francesca looked the two women up and down. “Well, Boss, I figure we can make suitable arrangements for both. The little one we can ship off to the client in Argentina who likes the little Asian types. The Russian would work out well for the client in Dubai, don’t you think? He likes her type. I’ll send their files out tonight, but we can’t keep them here. Too risky. Mountain house for the time being, okay?”

  “Yeah, that’ll have to do.” Cosmo turned again to the hapless Tony. “And now for you, punk. Billy, you and Leo make sure Tony here’s got enough warm clothes so he can enjoy his time on outside guard duty at the mountain house for now; then we’ll figure out someplace else to ship him, if he can manage not to screw up again. You and Francesca got this, ’cause I’m done.” He reached for the whiskey decanter on the desk and poured himself a large drink, clearly dismissing them all.

  “Sure, Boss,” Billy said,
and grabbed Tony by the collar and propelled him out the door. Leo touched his fingers to his forehead in salute to Cosmo and followed the two men out. Francesca pushed a button on the desk and three more men came in with handcuffs and black hoods. She gestured towards the two shivering women.

  When Galina saw the men, she screamed, “No!” and tried to run out of the room. One man grabbed her, and she heard Malaya scream as she backed away from the other man. He quickly grabbed the little woman, threw her on the floor and put his knee into her back. She struggled as he pulled her hands back, handcuffed her and then slapped her hard as she twisted around, trying to wriggle away from him. Galina kicked out at the man who held her. She was taller and stronger than Malaya, and scratched his face trying to knee him as he pushed to pin her against the wall. She spat in his face. He cursed and punched her in the jaw. Stunned, she went limp and he threw her to the ground, pinned her down and cuffed her, roughly grabbing her by the hair, yanking her head back painfully as he put the hood over her head. Cosmo stood at his desk chuckling with glee at the scene playing out before him.

  “Ha, this is like a good Tarantino movie scene! Get ’em guys, but don’t damage the merchandise.”

  Once the women were both immobile on the floor, Francesca came over with a syringe for each. She methodically injected each woman in the neck, and they went limp in seconds. Shaking her head, she tossed the spent syringes in the fireplace and watched as they popped and melted. Turning around, she saw the two men hoist the women over their shoulders and leave the room. Taking a small flask of hand sanitizer out of her pocket, she cleaned her hands and said to Cosmo, “Well, that’s a shame, really. Two good workers to replace, but I’m pretty sure we’ll get a good price for them both, Boss, just trust me.”