Like selling girls?
Maybe.
I walk to the front door of the place, my eyes on the guard standing there.
“Hall’s not open yet, mister,” he says gruffly.
I wouldn’t expect it to be, and this strengthens my suspicions.After all, places that are doing illegal business won’t want to be open during the day.
“What time does it open?”I ask.
“Nine, and not a second before.But it’s not open tonight,” he grunts.
This sets my teeth on edge, and I tap my cane once.“Doesn’t make much sense to have a dance hall that’s not open,” I observe, trying to stay calm.What the fuck is this place, and what does it have to do with Landry’s operation?
And why is it closed the moment I appear on the scene?
The man doesn’t respond to my observation but lifts one shoulder in a shrug, and no matter how many additional questions I ask, he’s evidently finished communicating with me.
Frustrated, I turn from him, trying to figure out who else I can ask.I spot Mrs.Fontenot, the biggest madame in town, strolling down the street, and approach her, but she takes one look at me and shakes her head, then actually tells me to get lost.
“Kitty—” I start, shocked.
She throws up a hand to warn me away.“Leave me alone, Lucien.I’ve got more important things to worry about than some Boudreaux looking for a place to get his dick wet.”
I’m offended at the insinuation, but the woman is obviously out of her mind over something, so I let her go and turn around, looking for someone else.If I know anything about New Orleans, it’s that the locals always know the business of everyone around them.They’re either involved or have been told to stay the fuck away, and that has guaranteed that they do their research and figure out what’s going on.If that dance hall is doing anything illegal, the street walkers will know about it.
And they’re always desperate for money.
I see a girl within moments, and though she looks like she’s doing okay–no broken teeth, and fairly clean–I’m also banking on her being open to bribery.
I mean, who isn’t?
It only takes $20 to get her talking.
“That dance hall doesn’t have any dances,” she says quickly.“And we’re never invited in.They sell other girls there.”
“Other girls?”I ask sharply.“What does that mean?”
She looks at me like she’s never met anyone so naive, which is a real laugh, considering she looks about ten years younger than me.
“The girls they have in there don’t want to be there, mister.They’ve not agreed to live the life.”
“English, girl,” I growl.“I don’t speak street walker.”
This earns me a dirty look, but I sweeten her up with another $20 and she keeps talking.
“Once a week they hold auctions in there,” she says, her voice lower and her eyes darting around the street like someone might be listening to our conversation.“High-end girls.Girls from good families.They ain’t agreed to it, sir.They’re sobbing and fighting.But they’re bought by men who can afford that sort of thing.”
Now my voice is just as quiet as hers, though it’s not because I’m afraid of being overheard.The truth is, I’m so angry that I can hardly catch enough air to speak.“Bought for what?”
Her gaze meets mine and I see that she’s smarter than I took her for.Her eyes are clear and intelligent.“Slaves,” she says simply.“Sex or otherwise.”
She slips away before I can ask her anything else and I watch her go, heart hammering.Auctions.High-end girls selling to the highest bidder.Forced to serve some man in their own hometown, where their families might see them.Where they can still see the streets they used to shop on.The homes they used to live in.
My God.I hadn’t thought of it before.I knew we were going after human traffickers, but I hadn’t really let that into my brain.It was just a label.Just the name of the people we were searching for.But now I’m forced to face it head on, and the prospect is horrifying.Girls whose lives are taken from them, and who are forced into something no human being should have to suffer.Forced to serve men they might have known in their previous life.
I’ve spent my whole life on the dark side of the law–hell, one of our casinos is just down the road, and I’ve killed more men in the back room of that casino than I can count, for cheating–but I’ve never felt as dirty as I do right now.
