“I told you not to make an enemy of me,” he hissed.
In an instant, fear replaced the gang leader’s bravado, and he ran to the pickup truck. His compatriots followed, the injured stumbling behind the able-bodied. As soon as the gang leader keyed the ignition, he floored the accelerator and sped off down the lane, nearly throwing two of his companions out of the flatbed.
When they were gone, Zoe stood slowly, her whole body trembling. She leaned against Joseph’s truck, feeling a relief so overwhelming it found no expression in her conscious thoughts. She watched Joseph as he fought to catch his breath. His clothes were coated with dirt, and he had a large scratch on his neck. At last she managed to speak.
“I didn’t know you had a gun.”
“I keep it in the truck,” he growled. “My brother was in the army.”
Zoe shook her head, struggling not to think about how close she had come to being raped. Then it struck her: the girl at the hospital had walked by this alley less than twenty-four hours ago. A man driving a silver SUV had abducted her, raped her, and abandoned her to the night. No one had come to her rescue. Zoe pictured her sleeping in her hospital bed, Dr. Chulu’s monkey beside her, and heard the doctor’s words: “Now she has you.”
Joseph picked up Zoe’s backpack and dusted it off. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?” he asked, handing her the bag.
She let out a small laugh and felt some of the tension release. “I took self-defense classes in high school. I have a brown belt in tae kwon do.”
He raised an eyebrow and managed a half-smile.
She opened the passenger door of the truck and climbed in slowly. “Can we stop by the hospital on the way back?” she asked when he joined her in the cab.
He gave her a baffled look. “Why?”
“The girl,” she replied. “I’d like to see her again.”
chapter 3
On Monday morning, the five members of the CILA response team—Zoe, Joseph, Mariam, Sarge, and Niza—took seats in the conference room alongside Mwila, the director of rehabilitation. It was a few minutes after nine, and the all-staff meeting had just wrapped up. The shades were drawn against the sun, but light filtered in and burnished the scarred wooden table in front of them.
“Before we talk about the case,” Mariam began, looking at Zoe, “I want to say how relieved I am—how relieved we all are—that nothing worse happened to you yesterday.”
“I have Joseph to thank,” Zoe said, glancing at him. The shock of the incident was still raw, but she was determined not to let it affect her.
Mariam nodded. “I’m going to mention it to the Deputy Commissioner.”
“I’d rather you wait until I catch the perpetrators,” Joseph said.
“You’re going after them?” Zoe was surprised.
“When the time is right.”
Mariam smiled. “On to business. There’s a lot we don’t know about what happened to this girl, but here is what we do know. Sometime before midnight on Saturday she was raped by an unknown assailant. Around midnight, he transported her to a remote lane in Kanyama and left her there. The child has Down syndrome and hasn’t spoken since the incident. With counseling, she might be able to help us, but not yet. We have an eyewitness who saw the man abandon her. The only information we have at present is that the man is tall and was driving a silver SUV with something like this near the license plate.”
Mariam held up a piece of paper showing a replica of Dominic’s sketch.
“Reminds me of a railroad crossing sign in the U.S.,” said Niza, leaning forward.
“Perhaps it’s a political sticker,” Sarge offered.
Joseph spoke up: “I called headquarters, but we haven’t received a missing-person report matching the child. Even if a report was filed, it could take days to get entered into the system.”
“Until we find her family,” Mariam said, “we need to arrange for her care.”
Mwila nodded. “I talked to Social Welfare about sending her to St. Francis. I don’t trust anyone else to handle kids with special needs. I also contacted Dr. Mbao at the University of Zambia. I haven’t worked with her before, but Joy Herald recommended her highly. With a referral from Dr. Chulu, she’ll come to St. Francis for the exam.”
“From a legal standpoint,” Sarge said, “we can’t bring a case until we have a suspect and some corroborative evidence. In addition, there is the question of the child’s age. She looks a lot younger than sixteen, but that won’t be enough for the magistrate.”
“The family will tell us when she was born,” Zoe said. “The real problem is corroboration. Even if we find a suspect, we need something linking him to the rape itself, not just to the girl. We need an eyewitness to the act. Or we need DNA.”
“As always, a nice thought,” Niza replied. “But this is Zambia. There’s no lab and no money for it. So says the Ministry of Justice.”