For fifteen minutes, they strode wordlessly through the crowded streets of the city. Then her pace slowed and she gradually came to a stop. Her arms hung limply at her sides, and she swayed. Valerio worried she might collapse.
She turned towards him, but her gaze averted as she spoke.
“Other girls had it worse.” The words came haltingly. “Alfeo wasn’t so bad…but some of the other men could get rough.”
“At the parties?”
“Yes. And…afterwards.”
“These men—the important ones. Do you know who they are? Do you have names?”
She exhaled. “I know they were important and rich, because Alfeo used to talk about them. They never use last names, but I know their first names. And I’ve seen some of them on television.”
“Were they local?”
“Most were Italian,” she said. “But from other places, too. English, American, French, German, Russian…Spanish.”
“I’d like to take you to the station,” Valerio said. “Show you some photos, get your testimony on record—”
“No!”
The word was loud. Her eyes darted up to his—wide and full of anxiety. She shook her head and took a step back.
“No problem,” Valerio said, raising his palms. “It’s just you and me. Shall we find a place to sit?”
He scanned the street. He wanted to take her someplace warm, but was worried that having other people nearby would spook her. He pointed at a nearby café with outdoor seating—all empty, the chill having driven everyone indoors.
—
Maria pulled her wool coat around her, but she was shivering as he ushered her into a chair. Valerio gave her his scarf and she wrapped it around her neck. Then he took out his phone and placed it on the table between them.
“May I record this?” he said. “I’ve had a few glasses, and I don’t want to forget anything you tell me.”
She seemed to think about this for a moment, and then nodded.
“Allora,” he said. “Tell me about the parties.”
She stared at the tabletop. “They were beautiful, you know? Everything so sophisticated. Expensive. They gave us beautiful clothes,picked us up in nice cars. You could have whatever you wanted: wine, drugs, whatever. There was a part of me…that liked it. But the rest…”
She shuddered.
“Were the parties sexual?” Valerio asked.
“Not always,” she said. “There were two sides, you know? One side was…glamorous—with the celebrities—everybody there for a good time. We were part of the decoration. But even at those parties, we always knew…”
“Knew what?” he urged.
“That anybody could pick us—take us into one of the rooms in the back. That we had to go along with it.”
Valerio’s throat was tight. “How did they force you?”
She looked past him, watching the street. “They didn’t. It was just…you just had to.”
“I don’t understand,” he said.
She sighed. “It isn’t easy to explain. When I was little, things were hard. My father lost his job, and Mamma was sick and couldn’t work either. I had four younger brothers. We were always hungry. At school, I was clever and got good grades, but my parents wanted me to quit, and go to work. One day, this older girl at school—Paola—she told me that she knew how I could make money. She took me to this place in the city—to this woman. The woman asked a lot of questions, then she drove me to this huge house in Sorrento to meet this man. He told me I was pretty enough to be a model. He had me take off my clothes so he could be sure.”
Valerio was cold.
