“They work here?” I frown. If that’s the case, the bastard might be using someone from the club to source his victims. Someone I could have a “little chat” with.
“Not here, but that chick you spoke to put the word out. Didn’t take long for a string of them to pop out of the woodwork. Not a lot of them are happy to talk to us, but I made it worth their while.” As he says this, there’s a knock at the door and the bigger of the two bodyguards puts his head in.
Chapter 7
Mateo Ricci
“Your appointment has arrived, Boss,” the big guy says. Raoul nods once and the door swings open, revealing a pair of anxious-looking women.
“Sasha?” Raoul says. One steps forward. In faded Levis and a plain white t-shirt, her face is scrubbed free of make-up, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. She’s pale, even in the warm glow of the room.
“Mr. Caraldi?” Her voice is hesitant, her eyes darting from Raoul to me and back. The blonde girl behind her almost seems to be using her friend as a shield.
“Come on in; sit down,” Raoul says, flashing one of his signature panty-melting smiles. Sasha walks in, her friend close behind her. Somehow, I don’t think any panties are going to be melting here tonight. They head to the furthest chair, both managing to squeeze onto the edge of the seat.
“I’m glad you could join us,” Raoul says. “This is my friend, Mateo.” He gestures to me. “We’d very much like to hear your story.” The girls exchange glances. The dark-haired woman licks her lips. It appears she’s taken the role of spokesperson.
“They say you…um…have something for us?” Her voice is heavily accented, a little guttural. Probably Eastern bloc.
Raoul reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket and extracts a fat envelope. He sets it onto the coffee table between the seats and slides it across to them. The blonde reaches down and snatches it up, tearing it open. I see her fingertips flipping through the contents. No doubt a fat wad of cash. They share a quick murmured exchange I can’t follow, confirming my suspicions. They’re probably Czech.
“Good?” Raoul asks. The brunette nods. He extends his hand in a gesture of invitation. “Please. Tell us what you know.” There’s a silent moment as they seem to gather the courage to share their story.
“Last month, our manager, Ivan, he say he have special client. Client who pay good money for girls who like to party,” the one Raoul called Sasha tells us. “Me and Kiki,” she glances at her friend, “we think is fun. We say sure.” She swallows hard. Kiki is picking at the edge of a fingernail. Her nails have been bitten to the quick.
“Go on,” says Raoul. “Did he say who it was?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “He say is big secret. No names. No address. But money is good. Very good. And Ivan says is very good client. So, we go.”
“You took a cab?” I ask. Fuck, if they have an address…
She shakes her head again.
Dammit.
“He send limo. Very fancy. Champagne. Whisky. Caviar. But driver… He put a…a…” She covers her eyes, and motions around her head.
“Blindfold?” Raoul offers. She shoots a look at him and nods.
“Yes. He put blindfold on face.”
“You just let him do that?” I ask.Jesus.How desperate were they for that cash?
The blonde keeps picking at her fingernail. Raoul narrows his eyes at me. I snap my mouth shut. This isn’t a time to be lecturing anyone on safety. It’s too late.
“And then what happened?” he asks.
“We drink champagne. Car drive. Not too long. Maybe twenty minutes?” She looks at Kiki who nods. The edge of her nail is beginning to look raw. “When car stop, driver, he take us up in elevator.”
“You didn’t see the building?” I ask. She shakes her head again.
“No. Still have b-blindfold. But I feel…car go underneath.” She makes a swooping motion with her hand. Underground parking. I nod for her to go on. “Driver take us to elevator and we go up. Up, up, up. It feel like long time. We stop, he take off blindfold and door open. Big party inside. Many men. Some girls. Like us.” She indicates between herself and her friend. “Party girls.”
Hookers.
“Did you recognize anyone?” I ask. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try.
“Not girls. And all men, they wear mask. Also fancy suit. Like waiter.” A hint of a smile plays on her lips but is gone before it can stick there.
