Bitter Sweet (26 page)

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Authors: Mason N. Forbes

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BOOK: Bitter Sweet
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Then I told the part about Mike coming over to Markus’s apartment with a digicam and
how he had recorded the harrowing stories of Maria, Olga and Yana. And that Mike had made Ivonne and I write down our version of events.

Then it was on to the car chase across the city in an attempt to get the girls to the refuge. How that had failed, how we’d been captured and locked up in a storeroom. That Erjon had been planning to get rid of the girls by selling them to a brothel in Turkey. And that Ivonne and I had been destined to be sold into an Arab country.

Finally, I recounted our escape from the storeroom, Ivonne calling the police and my recording the faces of those involved in the auction on one of the phones belonging to Erjon’s thugs. I reached into my bag and brought out the thug’s phone, which Ivonne had given me earlier, and set it on the table. 

 

Oscar switched off the tape recorder, then leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, deep in thought. His hand drifted towards his jacket. He pulled out a packet of cigarettes, looked at Mike, who shrugged. He then looked at me. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked holding up the pack.

‘Is it that bad?’

He stared at me, not sure if I was referring to his need for nicotine or what I had told him. 

‘Go ahead,’ I said.

‘Depends,’ he said, pulling a cigarette and a lighter out off the pack, ‘on the police. Now let me go through it with you.’

Oscar lit the cigarette. Mike produced an ashtray. I stoo
d up, opened a window and sat down again.

‘Okay,’ Oscar said, ‘the video surveillance in your apartment and Ivonne’s is legal
. Tracking Erjon’s phone is not, as is the backup data you emailed to yourself from the janitor’s office.’

Oscar drew on the cigarette. ‘The DVD recorder taken from the apartment in which the trafficked girls were being held is admissible, particular
ly, as it will show Maria’s escape and you returning to free the other two girls. That taken in conjunction with the surveillance footage, legally acquired, from your own system and any trafficking involvement brought against you within the Merchant Building, we might be able to refute.

‘The affair on the bus,’ Oscar said, and took a draw on his cigarette. ‘The police will be keen to find a culprit for the bomb threat.’ He tapped his cigarette on the ashtray. ‘The mobile you used to phone the Transport Police is the one which the police have?’

‘Yes,’ I said, lowering my head, ‘and now that they have it, they’ll trace the call from the phone.’ 

Oscar rubbed his chin. ‘I haven’t dealt with bomb threats before. I’d guess that a charge of creating
a public nuisance will be brought.’ He glanced at Mike and then back to me. ‘The worst part will be the press; it’s the sort of story they’ll love – add in the tweets, the nun and the cop.’ Oscar shook his head. ‘When they connect all of that, they’ll go digging, and they’ll find Nina the escort.’

‘But, I’ve dumped all my web profiles.’

‘That might not be enough. If the press gets one whiff of you as an escort.’


Omigod.’

‘That’s right.’

I’d never put any pictures on the net showing my face. But, Driscoll wasn’t playing fair and he was bound to refer to me as a known escort and maybe even add my working name.

Oscar allowed me a few moments as I stared at the three monkeys, trying to adjust to the nightmare of being exposed.

‘Tina,’ Oscar said. ‘Neither of us knows what action the police will take.’

‘If it’s up to that spiteful bastard Driscoll—’

‘Slow down; let’s get back to where we were.’ Oscar crushed out his cigarette. ‘If the bomb threat goes public, the ABH case will fade into the background. The victim may well retract his statement and refuse to testify. And now that I know you’ve been practising Taekwondo since the age of fourteen; a good case can be made that you knew what you were doing and that it was, in fact, self-defence.’

‘Jeez, that’s fabulous,’ I said. ‘The
ABH case goes away and then I get centre-staged as public nuisance
and
get exposed as an escort. What a price to pay.’

Mike came across and placed his hands on my shoulders.

‘Don’t,’ I said, shrugging him off. I crossed my arms and glowered at Oscar. ‘Is there more?’


Yes, but first; let’s not forget your courage and determination. You did what few would have done; you can be proud of that. How many girls did you save from slavery?’

‘I don’t know,’ I said, checking my fingernails.

‘Four in the refuge? How many more from the warehouse?’

‘Five in total
.’

‘Don’t forget that you are the unsung heroine.’

‘And unsung I’d like to remain.’

‘Nonetheless, the heroine.’ Oscar opened his pack of cigarettes. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked.

‘Oscar,’ I said, cocking one eye at him, ‘you really should read what it says on the packet.’

‘Noted.’ He lit the cigarette, exhaled and looked up at me with a grin. ‘Maria, Olga, Yana and the other girl from the warehouse are
in the refuge on Talbot Street?’

‘That’s right,’ I said with a smile. ‘Ivonne visited them this morning.’

‘Ah,’ Oscar said, ‘Ivonne should not go near the refuge. If she becomes involved in a trial it could be construed that she is interfering with witnesses.’

‘Understood.’

He tilted his head to one side, looking at me intently. ‘Now, put yourself in the shoes of those girls. Remember Erjon is still in business and he is still lining Driscoll’s pocket. Would you testify? Will they?’

‘But what about their stories which Mike videoed?’

Oscar raised both hands. ‘Retractable, made under duress, shall I go on?’

My stomach lurched. I looked at Mike.

He shrugged. ‘It was worth a try.’

‘Go on, Oscar,’ I said. ‘What comes next?’

‘The refuge will identify them as trafficking victims,’ Oscar said. ‘Their names will be taken, they have no passports, they are illegally in the country, they will have to be repatriated, the authorities will become involved – the police who will take their fingerprints. Those are all over your car which was found at the warehouse and which the police now have. You transported the girls from one part of the city to another,’ Oscar placed a hand across his brow, ‘and it will be alleged for the purpose of exploitation. That alone constitutes a trafficking offence.’

‘You’re joking?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘What about Ivonne?’

‘She’s an accomplice,’ Oscar said. ‘The other reason why she should stay away from the refuge. And she should keep her head down, or go home to Poland for a while. We will have to wait and see if the police try to connect her.’

I shook my head. I’d hoped meeting Oscar would have boosted my confidence and he’d have found a way of making the
ABH case go away. He was twisting everything against me. No that wasn’t true; he was spelling out how it could be twisted against me. I pointed at the mobile on the table. ‘What about the film I took in the warehouse?’

‘Evidence which should have been given to the police.’ He shifted in his seat. ‘The official version of what happened last night is still fuzzy. It’s been admitted that trafficking was involved. The press is trying to squeeze information out of any and every contact they have.’

Oscar leaned forward in his chair. ‘The normal course of action is to cooperate fully with the police.’

‘Can’t we go above Driscoll’s head?’ I asked. ‘Won’t they see that I am innocent?’

He shook his head, slowly. ‘I don’t see that as an option. What troubles me is the speed with which the case was put together and Driscoll’s words “an open-and-shut case.” The police know you haven’t got a criminal record. They should have asked themselves what’s your motive? They should have talked to you; asked you to cooperate, looked at your version of events and only then should they have considered a charge.’

‘But they didn’t.’

‘Ask yourself; what does Driscoll gain?’

‘That’s bloomin’ obvious,’ I said. ‘Money and a scapegoat to cover his connection to Erjon.’

‘Which means going above Driscoll’s head won’t help.’

‘Bollocks,’ I said, seeing the obvious. ‘What happened at the warehouse isn’t going to go away.’

‘Exactly. He’ll build a chain of evidence against you. Take that and the fact that you are a known escort.’ Oscar shook his head again. ‘I’m sorry, if you go above Driscoll’s head, we’re talking about more senior police officers, but still, people make assumptions and jump to conclusions.’

‘Yeah, I’m prone to doing that myself sometimes.’  

‘Remember few trafficking victims will testify. Driscoll knows that and might twist events, alleging that Maria ran into your arms. You did not contact the police and instead fetched the other girls out of the apartment, and, duped them with the sole intention of selling them at the auction.’

‘Christ that’s going a bit far!’

‘You lack witnesses.’

‘What about Ivonne?’

‘An accomplice, tarred with the same brush.’

‘Mike?’

‘A stand-up guy,’ Oscar said, raising an eyebrow at Mike. ‘Isn’t that right?’

‘Certainly,’ Mike said, and straightened his tie. ‘A respected member of the business community and all that.’

‘Duped,’ Oscar said, ‘by a known escort and led along by the nose. A witness who wasn’t in the bus, who wasn’t in the car and who wasn’t in the warehouse.’ He made a flourishing motion with his hand. ‘The witness is all yours, counsel.’

Oscar scratched his chin. ‘In fact, despite all the surveillance material you have, who is to prove that you didn’t dupe Mike and the girls. At no stage did you seek the help of the authorities.’

‘But, I couldn’t because of Driscoll.’

‘Detective Sergeant Driscoll,’ Oscar said, ‘is a highly respected and longstanding member of the police force, until proven otherwise.’

Shocked, I shot forward on the seat and grabbed the phone lying on the table. ‘But what about this?’ I held the damned thing up in front of Oscar.  ‘I filmed the buyers with Erjon.’

‘T
ina,’ Oscar said, ‘this is a worst case scenario.’

‘It blinkin’
well doesn’t feel like it.’

‘Oscar,’ Mike said, ‘do you have to?’

Oscar leaned back in his seat and looked at the ceiling. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘because we’re dealing with a crooked police officer.’ He tilted his head to look at me. ‘Tina, the people on the film will be threatened with broken legs, or whatever, by Erjon, and, he will have witnesses to corroborate that he was miles away at the time.’ 

‘Witnesses? Low-life criminals more like it.’  

He winked at me. ‘I doubt that. Nevertheless, you’re going to have to start thinking like a lawyer, like a detective. Keep going over the whole incident, looking for anything to corroborate your version of events. But above all, you are going to have to find a way of proving that Driscoll is crooked.’

‘How the heck am I supposed to do that?’

‘Does he live in a big house, drive an expensive car. That is a start. Then there is gossip – contact Martha.’

‘When am I supposed to find the time to do all this legwork? I have exams to sit.’

Oscar looked at Mike and raised an eyebrow. Mike shrugged.

‘If you can’t,’ Oscar said, ‘then you’ll have to hire a solicitor or a junior barrister.’

And that meant another bill.

‘I would prefer it if you did the legwork,’ Oscar continued. ‘You a
re sharp and intelligent and pardon the expression; it’s your ass on the line – that will give you the edge.’ He placed both hands on the armrests of his chair. ‘If more charges are brought against you,’ he smiled at me, ‘and that may not happen, all the statements and the evidence in the prosecutor’s possession will be made available to us before a trial.’

‘The same goes for the
ABH charge?’

‘Yes it does.’

‘I want to know who that scumbag is from the train station.’

‘I like it,’ Oscar said, and laughed. ‘You collect all the dirt and I’ll discredit him in front of the jury.’ 

28

 

 

 

On Friday, Mike had informed me that in total six men had been arrested at the warehouse, detained and subsequently charged by the police. The charges had included trafficking.

I had spent the weekend holed u
p in my bedsit. Whilst studying, I ran everything over in my mind, thinking and making notes. I had also followed the news in detail. A police press release had stated that following an anonymous tip-off, a warehouse in the north of the city had been raided. Details of what exactly had been discovered at the warehouse had not been divulged. Six men had been arrested and detained at the scene and were assisting investigations pertaining to human trafficking.   

Not surprisingly three massage parlours had been raided, one in the city and two in London. Following the discovery and rescue of two trafficked girls, arrests for trafficking and running a brothel were pending. Pendin
g – ha, ha, they already knew who the culprits were.

The official story and the press coverage made me uneasy. The connection between the warehouse and the massage parlours was, to me, obvious.  The press sensed the connection, but were holding back. They continued to keep both stories alive with snippets of information about human trafficking and the massage parlours as if they were anticipating a development.

On Monday morning I met up with Ivonne and told her the shocking possibilities as outlined by Oscar. Ivonne was appalled that our actions to save the girls could be so outrageously twisted against me. She immediately offered her help and support, and volunteered to act as a witness.

That posed a major dilemma. There was no evidence placing Ivonne at the warehouse, nor conn
ecting her to the bomb threat, or to transporting the girls. If she came forward as a witness, in all probability, Driscoll would turn the tables on her and arrest her as an accomplice.

With Erjon free to conduct business as usual, he would find a way to threaten the girls – having one of his thugs parked outside the refuge would be enough.  I saw the girls’ refusal to testify as a certainty. If Ivonne stepped forward to corroborate my version of events, it would be two escorts against one of the pillars of the law; the police
, and their supporting evidence. 

I explained to her the dilemma
of being a witness and then asked; ‘What are your plans work wise?’

‘I’m not advertising – took the weekend off.’

‘You haven’t been in your apartment?’

‘No way,’ she said, looking at me as if I had a screw loose.

‘Just checking. I’ve cancelled my lease and Mike’s taking me over this afternoon to clear the place out.’

‘What about the police?’

‘No one has told me I can’t, and I’m not going to pay anymore than I have to.’

Ivonne stared at her coffee cup and then looked at me. ‘I’d best do the same,’ she said, ‘cancel the lease.’

‘Do you want me to collect your things?’

‘That would be great.’ She lifted her handbag and brought out a bunch of keys. ‘If I don’t go near the place, no one can find me,’ she said, pulling a key off the ring.

‘Why’s that?’

‘Officially I live with a cousin in the north of the city. Another cousin rented the place where I live, in his name. I’ve told both cousins, in case someone asks, that I’ve gone home.’

‘But what if you start working again?’

‘After what you’ve told me, I don’t think that is a good idea. Okay, Erjon will get our apartments, what he’s been after anyway. Still,’ she sucked her lower lip, ‘that git might want his revenge.’

‘It’s possible,’ I said, ‘but at the moment it won’t be at the top of his list of priorities. And if he can’t find you, he can’t find you.’

‘But Erjon can find you.’

‘Yeah, but that would be stupid—’

‘Not if you went missing
, for good.’

‘No,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘A police suspect, charged with
ABH – too much trouble would come of it.’

‘See what you mean.’
Suddenly, Ivonne reached across and gripped my hand. ‘You’re forgetting one thing; if you went missing
now
the thug wouldn’t have to testify. And what happened at the warehouse could be blamed on you.’

I cringed.
Suspect flees the country. International arrest warrant issued,
flashed through my mind. I stared at Ivonne, trying to quell my anxiety. I shook my head. Maybe I should take up Mike’s offer of renting a place for me in his name.


No, Ivonne, that doesn’t add up. Or does it? If I’m arrested for the bomb threat and trafficking, then if I disappeared, the media would go looking for me. The police would be forced to launch a full-scale search.’

‘The logic cuts both ways,’ Ivonne said. ‘The police still have false evidence and can pin the whole thing on you without risking a trial.’ 

I stared at Ivonne.

‘If Erjon gets you,’ Ivonne said, struggling to keep her gaze steady, ‘you’ll be out of the country in the back of a van before anyone knows you’re missing.’

‘Mike said he’d rent an apartment for me in his name.’

‘Phone him, get him to do it.’

I did immediately. Mike tried to calm me down, hinting that I was thinking too much about what might happen. However, that didn’t stop him from agreeing to my request.

Ending the call, I looked at Ivonne who smiled at me.

‘I think I will need your help,’ I said.

‘Anything, I already told you I’ll help.’

‘Oscar said I’ve got a lot of legwork to do, and to start thinking like a detective and a lawyer. And high on the list is tracking down Martha.’

‘You got her number?’

‘Yeah, I’ve phoned, spoken on her voicemail, sent texts – nothing.’

‘Damn it,’ Ivonne said. ‘Her work phone, she might’ve thrown the SIM card away.’

‘Oh bollocks, if she’s done that it might be days before we can track her down.’

Ivonne raised her hand, index finge
r pointed upwards. ‘Excuse me, Miss,’ she said, feigning a school-girl voice. ‘We’re looking for a Martha, with no surname, who’s not even called Martha.’

‘Ha, ha,’ I said, and curled my lip. ‘Very funny.’

Ivonne stuck her tongue out.

‘But it sums it up,’ I said. ‘It’s been busting my head all weekend. The net has nothing. I can’t even find out if her apartment was let by the same agents who let mine.’

‘Who is your agent?’

‘Brooker and Ross.’  

‘Same,’ Ivonne said.

‘So, what do you think?’

‘There’s a good chance they also handled Martha’s’

‘I hope so. Oscar told me
that most businesses won’t give out information over the phone, or to Joe Public. He told me to contact Eileen, one of the secretaries in his chambers.’

‘Chambers?’

‘Barristers don’t have offices; they have chambers – a grand name for a building in which dose of lawyers hang out.’

‘What did Eileen say?’

‘Didn’t get to talk to her. She’s in court with another barrister and not expected back until midday.’ Reminded of the frustration, I nibbled at the skin around my thumb. ‘Even if it’s the same letting agent, and even with a letter going out first class today, it’ll take three or four days for an answer.’

‘Great,’ Ivonne said, ‘what about phoning the agent?’

‘I’ve been thinking about it.’

‘Brooker and Ross might at least tell us if
they are the agents.’

‘And if they’re not,’ I said, ‘then I don’t know. Maybe Eileen might have an idea how to trace a person with no name.’

‘Why are you so set on finding Martha?’

‘Because if anyone knows anything about Driscoll, she will.’

‘I’ll ask around, maybe . . .’

‘Try it,’ I said, ‘anything is better than nothing. I also want to trace the owners of the two black BMWs.’

‘That might get you nowhere.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Could be like the apartment where I live. The registered keeper of a car may not be the owner.’

‘What?’

‘The keeper and the insured might be a relative who knows zip.’

‘Oh bollocks, soon I’ll have nothing to go on.’

‘Hey,’ Ivonne said with a big smile, ‘tell you what, I’ll phone Brooker and Ross, see if they’ve dealt with Martha’s place.’

Ivonne placed the call. They didn’t deal with the apartment. It was like chasing a ghost.

I pulled my laptop out of my bag, updated the prepared email I had done to Eileen and sent it to her.

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