Ana’s voice dipped to a sadder tone as she continued. “I know it sounds like I’m describing a dog that stays with a wicked master, but in a way that is how it was. That is how it is done—not with iron fists and beatings, but with velvet gloves and kisses.”
“As time went on, he began to test me, to see what I would do for him. He brought me presents: clothing, jewelry, shoes. With each new gift, he would push the boundaries of what I had to do. He taught me how to please a man in ways that made me hate myself. I did things, terrible things, and I did them with a smile on my face because it made him happy. I wanted to show him that there was nothing I would not do for him. He would abuse me and I would smile and say ‘see what I am willing to do for you?’”
Ana closed her eyes and leaned back in her seat, the corners of her lips tugging downward, stopping her from speaking. Whatever memory she was trying to summon had to be a painful one. She took a deep breath to regain her composure and then continued.
“One day, Mikhail came to my room with another man, a big man who smelled like rotting teeth. This man sat on my bed and looked at me in a way that ran needles up my spine. Mikhail told me that my next test would be to do everything that he asked of me, but I would do it with this man.”
“I begged Mikhail not to make me do these things, but he slapped my face. It was the only time he ever hit me. He said that I had embarrassed him—I disrespected him in front of his friend. He called me a child—accused me of being disloyal because I would not do what he had commanded. He told me that I must prove my devotion to him by being with this man.”
“I did what he told me to do. I had sex with that man—many times—because that is what Mikhail wanted. After that man left our house, Mikhail told me that I was his best girl and that I had passed all my tests. I was ready to go to Minneapolis. I was ready to dance in his club and tease the men and be with the men. That is when he brought me to the city and to his office. There, Mikhail etched the tattoo behind my ear—proof that I belonged to him.”
She brought her hand up and touched the ruble behind her ear.
“I know it makes no sense to you, Detective, but it pleased me to get this tattoo. I was his girl. I lived for him. I would do whatever he asked of me. It sounds foolish as I tell you these things now, but, as I said, that is how it is done.”
I didn’t know what to say. How do you respond to a woman who’s just told you how she was turned into a slave? In my periphery I could see Ana staring at the dashboard. She looked so much smaller than the woman I wrestled out of the strip club a few hours ago, her hands folded around her knees, her hair falling in wisps across her cheeks, some strands clinging to the wet paths of her tears. She must have thought me as much of a monster as Mikhail. She had let me in, peeled back her layers to expose the hardened marrow beneath, showing me her darkest shades, and I responded with silence.
“I’m sorry,” I finally said.
“Sorry?” She raised her eyes to me and stared in puzzlement.
“We should have protected you. Whitton should have protected you. That was his job.”
“Reece could do nothing for me. Mikhail had him tied up tight. Reece could not even save himself. It did not shock me that he took his life. It has been his only way out from the beginning.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not long after Mikhail brought me to Minneapolis, I learned about Reece Whitton. Reece used to come to the club to watch me dance. He watched others too, but he preferred me. He wanted me to go with him to his house. Mikhail forbade it. Mikhail knew that Reece was a cop.
“Then, one day, Mikhail brought me into his office. He told me that he had been looking into Reece Whitton. There were rumors. Other girls were telling stories of Reece. They said that he would hire them and when he got them alone, he would show them his badge. He would make them do things—bad things. He was cruel to them. And in the end he would not pay them. He would tell them that their payment was their freedom. The word was getting around, and soon no one would go near him.
“That’s when Mikhail came up with his plan. One night I was dancing in the club and Reece came in. He took me to the private room and asked me to meet him later. I agreed. But I took him to my apartment, where Mikhail had cameras hidden all around. I let Reece do what he wanted. I did it for Mikhail. And before Reece left, I made sure that he told me that my payment would be my freedom.
“When Mikhail showed Reece the footage, Mikhail didn’t ask for money. Instead, he offered to make Reece a partner. He brought Reece into the company. If Reece agreed, Mikhail would own him. Reece would never be able to deny Mikhail anything.”
“So Reece Whitton became a partner in Mikhail’s operation. And you?”
Ana looked at me like I had just insulted her. “You still think that I am one of them?”
“I don’t know, Ana. I honestly don’t know.”
CHAPTER 37
Up North
“Ana’s playing you, Rupert.” Mikhail’s words clatter across his teeth like falling bits of stone knocking together, his jaw clenching as he fights to hide the deep, frozen chill in his bones. The ice seems to have finally penetrated his snowsuit, and I can hear a new desperation in his voice, a trapped animal finally aware of the cage around him. “She lied to you,” he says. “She set you up. She sent you here because she wants you to kill me.”
“What happened to ‘I have no idea what you’re taking about’? What happened to ‘I’m just a businessman’?”
Every part of my upper torso burns as I crank the auger with a renewed vigor. He’s changing his tack again, retreating to his fallback position. He has no choice but to admit what I already know.
The sun is slipping beyond the hills in the west, the hue of blue and violet melting into night as the light passes over our little nest. I want to get this hole drilled before I run out of light. In the east, the clouds are nearly gone from view and the rays of a brilliant moon seep through the final wisps. The wind has picked up a notch, and it pinches the exposed skin of my face. Mikhail remains burrowed into the snow to keep out of the wind, but I can see him shivering despite his best effort to act tough.
“Ana runs the prostitution ring,” he says. “She’s the one who pulls the strings. I’m just a front man.”
Now we’re getting somewhere. “So there is a prostitution ring,” I say.
“Yes, but it’s not me. It’s Ana.”
“A couple hours ago, there was no such thing. You swore to God. You begged me to believe you. Now you want me to believe that the ring exists, but you’re not involved? You see how this looks, don’t you, Mikhail?”
“I swear to God—”
“I’m sure you do.”
“Okay, I started it—yes, but I haven’t been in control of the operation for years. It’s been Ana and Reece Whitton. They’ve been squeezing me out. Now she’s going to have you do her dirty work and finish the job. You kill me and she has it all. Don’t you see that?”
“I see a man who will say anything to save himself.”