Bliss was touched by the comment. His aim in passing out cards had simply been to provide a means of requesting his help directly should they ever need it. He had not foreseen the possibility of it becoming some kind of talisman to any of them.
Parastu Mazdaki had spoken no English at all when Bliss and Chandler first attempted to interview her, in a quiet hospital room after the Iranian and four other young women had been treated for a variety of conditions resulting from dehydration, malnutrition, and oxygen deprivation. They had gleaned all the information they required via an interpreter, and upon leaving the ward four days later, Mazdaki had been driven away to an undisclosed temporary location in the city. She now spoke the language with confidence.
The two detectives learned that she had a boyfriend, who lived not far away from her flat in Belgrave and was studying architecture at De Montfort University. She was enjoying her life in the UK and had no desire to return home, despite missing her mother and two sisters. She told the two detectives that she had neither seen nor heard from any of the other young women with whom she had shared the transportation container since they parted ways.
Her face creased suddenly as she spoke. ‘It is not something I enjoy remembering. In those few days which felt like many more, I fought to stay alive, but did not care if I died. I wanted both, if you understand?’
‘I think I can,’ Bliss told her. ‘We can never truly comprehend what you and the other girls went through. However, we can imagine.’
‘So you know why I can never let go of this card.’
It wasn’t a question, but it had him nodding all the same. ‘I think I do. Which makes me wonder why one of you did give theirs to somebody else. Perhaps she was going somewhere new. Away from here. Somewhere she would no longer need it.’
Mazdaki shook her head. ‘Even then, you keep it close. To remind you, yes?’
‘Clearly not all of you felt the same, Parastu. Our having the card in our possession proves that.’
‘They would have to take it from me. And only after a fight.’
Bliss thought about that possibility. It had been crouching there in the back of his mind, where it was darkest. Yet he suggested something quite different. ‘What about if somebody else needed it more than you did? If they were in some kind of danger, maybe. Would you give it to them then?’
‘No. I would perhaps share the details. Your name. Your number. But I would never willingly hand over that card.’
The woman’s simple, flat statement made Bliss feel as if he and Chandler were on a fool’s errand. There was a better than average chance that the card belonged to either the Somalian who had absconded, or the girl who chose to return to her home country – most likely the latter, because she would have no need of it. He was okay with that, provided the card had been willingly passed on to somebody else in dire need. Not that it had done their victim any good.
Chandler and Mazdaki chatted for a while as Bliss became contemplative, but it soon became clear they would find nothing here to take them further. Both detectives received another hug as they said their goodbyes.
Bliss was quiet as he drove back to Peterborough. He’d remembered Mazdaki from the night in the container, and from the hospital afterwards. She was the only one of the five who spoke no English at all, and her detachment from the others had been noticeable. Even trapped inside that steel box with other young girls who each shared the same degradation, she had been alone.
Having been repeatedly raped and abused along the way by the men who took her, the young Iranian’s resolve had eventually been beaten out of her. The last thing any of the women were told before the steel container door clanged shut to seal them inside was that they were headed for a life and a destination where they could expect much of the same on a daily basis.
Bliss had often wondered why, if they believed that was all life had in store for them, any of them had fought so hard to live. Each of them had clung on so desperately, when it would have been far easier to give up, to succumb to their conditions and slip away. He assumed it had to be hope that kept them going. Hope was not something in which he was a great believer.
***
Yeva Savchuk worked as many shifts at Frankie and Benny’s as the owner would give her. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Chandler had made an update call to Bishop, and Bliss had taken a rather irate one from DCI Warburton. Apparently they disagreed on Glen Ashton’s role; Warburton wanted him to shadow Bliss and Chandler. For the first time, Bliss thought he might be able to use the demotion to his advantage.
‘With respect, boss,’ he said. ‘Surely any NCA involvement needs to be at SIO level. That’s either you or Bish as your deputy. It’s certainly not me any more.’
After accusing him of being a slippery bugger living too close to the edge for comfort, his Chief Inspector relented and told Bliss to report to her the moment he arrived back at Thorpe Wood. He yearned for the days when the unit’s DCI had made use of her assigned office space on the floor above Major Crimes. Warburton’s predecessor, Alicia Edwards, liked to remain close to the Superintendent. Her replacement, however, had cleared out the squad’s break room and settled herself in there, making it almost impossible for Bliss to hide himself away and remain unseen.
It was lunchtime, so they both ordered food. He opted for a chicken wrap, while Chandler went for the
