Fatal Tide - Iris Johansen [45]
“I told you, he's my friend. No, he's more than that. He's my savior. He took me from Kafas. Do you know what that meant to me?”
“No, and I'm not sure I want to know.”
“Why not?” She smiled crookedly. “Aren't you curious?”
“Of course I am.” He was silent a moment. “I've thought about it. But I don't want to know bad enough to be accused of putting smudges on a soul. That's pretty serious stuff.”
“Christ, did I say that? How melodramatic.” She drew a deep breath. “This is different. You're not stealing anything from me. I don't care if you know about Kafas. Carolyn once told me that only the guilty should feel shame. I refuse to feel ashamed. At some point Archer will probably call you and drop some poison in your ear anyway.”
“It's not good enough for you not to care. Do you want to tell me?”
She did want to tell someone, she realized. That conversation with Kemal had brought too many memories to the forefront. She was choking on them, and there was no Carolyn to free her. “Yes, I . . . think I do.”
He looked away from her. “All right, then tell me about Kafas.”
“It means golden cage. It was sort of a special club in Istanbul.” She stood up and walked over to the edge of the lanai. “And adjoining it was an even more special place: the harem. Velvet couches. Golden fretwork panels. It was very luxurious because its patrons were either important or wealthy. It was a brothel that catered to every sexual taste. I was an inmate there for sixteen months.”
“What?”
“It seemed like sixteen years. Children live so much in the present they can't imagine life changing. So if they live in hell, they think it's going to go on forever.”
“Children?” he repeated slowly.
“I was ten years old when I was sold into the harem. I was eleven when I left.”
“Christ. Sold? How?”
“The usual trade in white slavery. My parents were killed in an auto accident when I was a toddler. I had no relatives, so I was placed in an orphanage in London. It was a nice enough place, but unfortunately the administrator needed money to pay his gambling debts. So, periodically he'd claim one of the children was a runaway. They ended up in Istanbul.” Don't think. Just say the words. Get it over with. “Of course, they had to be very special types for him to get the money he needed. They thought I was perfect. Blond, skin with the fresh bloom of childhood, and I had a quality they treasured. I looked . . . breakable. That was important. Pedophiles love to prey on fragile children. It makes them feel more powerful. The owner of the brothel thought I'd even be suitable for regular customers when I was a little older. So I was a true prize.”
“What was the owner's name?”
“It doesn't matter.”
“It matters. I'm going to rid the world of the son of a bitch. What's his name?”
“Irmak. But he's already dead. He was murdered before Kemal took me and the other children away from the harem.”
“Good. This is the Kemal who called you?”
“Kemal Nemid.” The words came easier now. Kemal was part of the good times as well as the nightmare. “He's the man who brought me from Turkey to Chile. He was closer to me than a brother. I lived with him for almost five years.”
“I thought you lived with Luis Delgado.”
“How did you know I—” Her lips twisted. “Of course, you'd try to find out anything that might give you an edge. Am I telling you anything you don't know?”
“Wilson didn't find out about this Kafas,” he said grimly. “Only about your life in Chile and Luis Delgado.”
“Delgado was Kemal. His background was a little shady and he thought it best to buy us new ones. He called me Melisande—”
“And then he dumped you and you had to go live with Lontana? Great guy.”
She whirled on him. “He is a great guy,” she said fiercely. “You don't know anything. He would never have deserted me. I'm the one who ran away from him. He was going to the United States and wanted me to go too. He was going to start a new life.”
“Then why cut and run?”
“I would have been in the way. He'd been tied to me for five years. He'd done everything for me. I was on the verge of a breakdown