Baltimore Noir - Laura Lippman [50]
Gary lifted his head. His eyes focused a little. “Jane,” he said. “Why?”
“She is my cousin,” Tania said.
“My niece,” added Yoshi. “My brother’s youngest daughter. Zhenya.”
Gary’s gaze went from the picture to Tania’s face.
“You saw it too,” Tania reminded him. “Remember? Zhenya and I, we come from the same tribe.”
She splashed water on his face. Pink rivulets got caught in his patchy beard.
“Now you better talk,” she said in a low voice.
They could hear Yoshi on the phone. “Yes, this is Mr. Sims in 213,” he was saying. “There’s no ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign here to hang on the doorknob. I want to make sure no one bothers me till I check out tomorrow morning … You sure? … Great. Thanks.”
“He learns what you tried to do to me, I tell him the details, he really will kill you,” Tania said.
Gary’s tongue ran around the inside of his mouth. “What?”
“Those pictures you took of me—the ones in here.” She clasped her hands to keep from hitting him again. “Do you take ones like that of Zhenya?”
He nodded.
“And the other girls?”
“Most.”
“Do they ask you to stop?”
He just looked at her, as if the question made no sense.
She touched him with a forefinger. “Do they want you to stop?”
Fresh sweat broke out on his face. “Sometimes,” he said. The unspoken words in his mind: As if that mattered.
She sighed, weary of his presence. “Just one more question. Those pictures? The ones of—of naked bodies. What do you do with them?”
“I sell them,” Gary said. Even now, he couldn’t quite keep the pride out of his voice. “Special clients buy them.”
Tania had heard enough. “Not anymore they won’t,” she said.
Panic made him more alert. “You can’t leave me here!”
Yoshi grinned, twisting Gary’s arms behind him and expertly binding his wrists. “Just for one day,” he said. “Just long enough for us to find what we need without you getting in our way. Tomorrow the cleaning lady will come in to make the bed, and she’ll find you. You won’t die before then.”
But Gary was barely listening. “I’ll shout—I’ll tell the cops.”
“Really?” Yoshi leaned in close. “I don’t think so. You seem like a smart guy. I think what you’ll do is disappear, turn up in another city, find a new line of work.” He yanked on the rope and Gary whimpered. “If you tell a soul about us and what happened here today, we’ll deliver everything we find in your apartment—and in your cameras—to the police.”
That got through.
“And you’re never going to post another picture online, ever, right?”
Yoshi picked up the wadded strip of cotton he’d ripped from the nightgown and the duct tape he’d brought with him.
“Wait,” Gary said.
Tania, leaning against the wall, was ready to leave. “Make it fast.”
He took a deep breath. The words came tumbling out, indistinct but comprehensible. “You—you feel so proud of yourselves, but nothing’s going to change.”
“Sure, Gary.”
“I’m not the only one doing this,” he went on. “There’s others, taking pictures. Just like me. Looking for an edge. I’m gone, there’s a dozen ready to jump in, take my place—and my girls.”
“Just like you jumped in,” Tania said calmly, “when a couple of other photographers left the business last year.”
Gary nodded.
She got down beside him and looked into his eyes. “Like Phil at Young Beauties.” She glanced at Yoshi. “And who was that other one?”
“Silverteen Models,” he replied. “Guy had a funny name.”
“Rogelio.” She switched her gaze back to Gary. “Gone for good, both of them, just when they were getting successful.” Gary slowly understood what she was saying. His face went yellow.
“We’ve been searching for Zhenya for a long time,” Tania said. “But she keeps moving on, and until now we were always a step behind.”
“But Phil—” The smell of Gary’s sweat and drying blood filled the room. “Phil was—”
“In the hospital for weeks,” Yoshi said. “He almost died.”
Tania shrugged. “Phil didn’t cooperate, but, you know, I think you will.”
Yoshi looked at her and she nodded. He pushed the cotton past Gary’s bruised lips and into the clotted mouth, and began wrapping the contorted face with tape.
When he was done,