Another Suitcase in Another Hall
Sergey Solarin noticed the new girl in the area on one of his off duty walks. A vice cop in downtown Darksprings, he could deal with most things life threw his way, but he had never been able to handle watching the youngest people on the street.
The runaways and the ones drawn into a prostitute’s life by unscrupulous thugs. He had struck up a friendship with a young woman who ran a shelter to help get the youngsters off of the street and give them a chance at a different life. The area he walked that day was not frequented by decent families. The houses were let to working girls and boys and to drug addicts. The deeper into the warren of streets and alleys you went the poorer the housing and the worse the problems.
He saw the new girl outside one of the ‘nicer’ houses. The exterior of the house was in better condition than most and the curtains hung straight, with the right number of hooks. The windows were clean. The girl was sweeping the outside steps when he saw her.
The first thing Sergey noticed about her were her clothes and makeup. She wore a skirt which reached to the ground and a long sleeved crop top over a mesh T and her makeup was subtle, no different than any teenage girl would wear. Although the top revealed her bare midriff, her clothing was not the norm for a street girl.
‘Hi,’ Sergey had ventured cheerfully.
Her head had shot up, her eyes hostile as they raked over him. He knew that with his looks and build and dressed in casual jeans and sweater and with no car, he did not look like the usual ‘customer’ for these parts.
‘I’m not what you’re looking for,’ she said sharply. ‘I only live here, I don’t work here.’
‘And I don’t live here, I only work here. I’m Detective Sergey Solarin,’ he introduced himself.
The girl’s shoulders relaxed, which told Sergey a lot, and she smiled.
‘Irissa Galloway. Lucky you. At least if you only work here you can get out sometimes.’
Curious now, Sergey settled himself on the sidewalk outside her house. He did not suggest they go inside to talk. Although she had relaxed somewhat, she was still cautious of him and if what he suspected was true, she would still be uncertain of the police. Before long he had his curiosity satisfied. She was fourteen years old and had moved here just three weeks before. She moved around a lot.
‘That’s my life,’ she said with a harsh laugh. ‘One grubby hallway to another’.
Her mother was a prostitute, but not a street girl. Their conversation covered so many subjects. Sergey had found that the detachment he was usually able to maintain with the people of this area vanished in her presence. Sergey was a good cop and a good man. He cared about his job and the people who crossed his path, especially the young ones, but over the years he had managed to build a thin wall between his work and his home life. Empathy he had, but he had to be able to draw back some way or he would go mad. Irissa Galloway crashed straight through the wall.
As he spoke to her he found himself thinking about his son and how different his life was. Ladislaus had a comfortable life, attended a private school and was heading for University.
Eventually Irissa stood up.
‘I have homework that needs done and I better get some food ready for my mother. It’s been nice talking to you, Detective. You are easy to talk to,’ the way she said that made him feel that she did not find it easy to talk to many people. ‘I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else.’
‘I’m flattered. Irissa, if you need anything....’ he found himself doing something he never did. He gave her his home telephone and cell phone numbers.
Sergey’s road led him back to the police station. He never felt afraid out on the streets, although some of his workmates walked nowhere, and certainly not alone.
Sergey, they felt, was in more danger than most because of his work with the young street kids. He deprived the pimps and gangsters of part of their living. None of them would have been surprised to find him being stopped by some thug.
What they would have been surprised at was Marco Cappelli stepping out in front of him with a
‘Good afternoon, Detective’.
Sergey returned the greeting coolly. The street was full of people and Sergey had no intention that innocents be killed by stray bullets. He kept his hands carefully in front of him. For all his caution, he did not believe for a second that Marco would shoot a cop in front of a lot of bystanders. This was something else.
‘My father send his greetings, Detective Solarin,’ there was a smile on Cappelli’s face as he spoke, but his stance and the set of his shoulders conveyed a threat. ‘And a friendly word. Keep away from our girls. They are not your business.’
‘I believe that’s your warning, Marco. Your father wouldn’t ‘lower himself’ by talking to a cop himself, or having one of his sons do that. He’d send someone lower down the chain. Or has your position in the family slipped?’
Sergey met Marco's eyes and answered calmly.
‘It’s time you learned the lessons the other cops in this town have learned, Dickwit,’ Marco growled. ‘We’ve given you a chance, let you settle in. We hoped you would learn the rules, but in two years you are making more trouble rather than less. You have interfered with our girls, our casino and our other business. There is going to be a reckoning if you don’t start listening to your colleagues."
‘I’m prepared for it, Marco. The crooks and lowlifes in this town have been without proper law for too long. I’m not changing how I work for anybody,’ Sergey kept his voice calm as he spoke, but he was fighting the urge to punch Marco.
‘Stupid man. You think you are some kind of Sheriff in a white hat? Sent to clean up the town? Its time you saw the real world, Detective. You have family of your own to think about,’ Marco sneered.
Sergey schooled his face to show nothing, but a chill clutched at his heart. He shook his head and gave Marco a disgusted look.
‘I thought your father had more honour than to make war on children,’ he retorted. Something flickered across Marco's face and Sergey knew he was right.
Don Cappelli had a sentimental streak and contributed to numerous educational and recreational projects in the town.
Sergey had always suspected that he was unaware of the younger girls and boys his sons ran. On more than one occasion he had considered trying to find a way to have a discussion with the Don.
Inside the police station, in his office, Sergey found his younger brother Nikita standing at the window.
‘I saw you with Marco. I would have come down if I had thought there had been any danger’, Nikita told him.
‘No, you wouldn’t have. I’ve told you before that I don’t want you involved with these guys. You’re not equipped to tangle with them,’ Sergey replied. ‘You’re a lawyer, Nikki. You do your thing in the courts; I do mine on the streets.’
Nikita scowled. Ever since they had been children Sergey had been protective towards him, emphasising the differences between them. Sergey was the strong one, Nikita the smart one. Nikita had been small and skinny as a child and had been the obvious target for bullies, until his taller, bulkier brother had intervened.
Yet Sergey had never made Nikita feel inferior. In fact, he had always asked his brother’s advice and help. ‘You’re smart, you’ll know this’, ‘what should I do here?’ and ‘I need your advice’ were words Sergey often directed at his brother. Yet sometimes Nikita would prefer to be there at his brother’s side when the physical stuff started. Nikita could see the same pattern evolving with their sons. The two boys were damn near clones of their fathers and Alexei was two years younger than Ladislaus. Even the age gap was the same.
‘There’s word on the streets that you are pissing off the Capellis. I guess that’s what Marco was talking to you about?
‘He threatened my family, Nikki. Do you think that I should have you and the boys move out of town?’
‘We wouldn’t go. Don Cappelli won’t let his boys harm the kids and I can take care of myself. I’ve learned some martial arts and I’m able to shoot pretty well.’ Nikita replied.
‘You probably wouldn’t even know that they were there, Nik. Maybe I should just learn to play the game?’ Sergey asked quietly.
Nikita scowled. His brother had been very down lately, sometimes feeling that he was fighting a battle on two fronts, from the corruption within the station and the criminal activities on the streets.
And it was heading to that time of the year again. The second of February was just two weeks away. The date of the car crash that had killed Elena and Raisa and left both men widowed and their sons motherless. Sergey was always hit harder by memories than Nikita.
Another Suitcase in Another Hall
Sergey Solarin noticed the new girl in the area on one of his off duty walks. A vice cop in downtown Darksprings, he could deal with most things life threw his way, but he had never been able to handle watching the youngest people on the street.
The runaways and the ones drawn into a prostitute’s life by unscrupulous thugs. He had struck up a friendship with a young woman who ran a shelter to help get the youngsters off of the street and give them a chance at a different life. The area he walked that day was not frequented by decent families. The houses were let to working girls and boys and to drug addicts. The deeper into the warren of streets and alleys you went the poorer the housing and the worse the problems.
He saw the new girl outside one of the ‘nicer’ houses. The exterior of the house was in better condition than most and the curtains hung straight, with the right number of hooks. The windows were clean. The girl was sweeping the outside steps when he saw her.
The first thing Sergey noticed about her were her clothes and makeup. She wore a skirt which reached to the ground and a long sleeved crop top over a mesh T and her makeup was subtle, no different than any teenage girl would wear. Although the top revealed her bare midriff, her clothing was not the norm for a street girl.
‘Hi,’ Sergey had ventured cheerfully.
Her head had shot up, her eyes hostile as they raked over him. He knew that with his looks and build and dressed in casual jeans and sweater and with no car, he did not look like the usual ‘customer’ for these parts.
‘I’m not what you’re looking for,’ she said sharply. ‘I only live here, I don’t work here.’
‘And I don’t live here, I only work here. I’m Detective Sergey Solarin,’ he introduced himself.
The girl’s shoulders relaxed, which told Sergey a lot, and she smiled.
‘Irissa Galloway. Lucky you. At least if you only work here you can get out sometimes.’
Curious now, Sergey settled himself on the sidewalk outside her house. He did not suggest they go inside to talk. Although she had relaxed somewhat, she was still cautious of him and if what he suspected was true, she would still be uncertain of the police. Before long he had his curiosity satisfied. She was fourteen years old and had moved here just three weeks before. She moved around a lot.
‘That’s my life,’ she said with a harsh laugh. ‘One grubby hallway to another’.
Her mother was a prostitute, but not a street girl. Their conversation covered so many subjects. Sergey had found that the detachment he was usually able to maintain with the people of this area vanished in her presence. Sergey was a good cop and a good man. He cared about his job and the people who crossed his path, especially the young ones, but over the years he had managed to build a thin wall between his work and his home life. Empathy he had, but he had to be able to draw back some way or he would go mad. Irissa Galloway crashed straight through the wall.
As he spoke to her he found himself thinking about his son and how different his life was. Ladislaus had a comfortable life, attended a private school and was heading for University.
Eventually Irissa stood up.
‘I have homework that needs done and I better get some food ready for my mother. It’s been nice talking to you, Detective. You are easy to talk to,’ the way she said that made him feel that she did not find it easy to talk to many people. ‘I’ve told you things I’ve never told anyone else.’
‘I’m flattered. Irissa, if you need anything....’ he found himself doing something he never did. He gave her his home telephone and cell phone numbers.
Sergey’s road led him back to the police station. He never felt afraid out on the streets, although some of his workmates walked nowhere, and certainly not alone.
Sergey, they felt, was in more danger than most because of his work with the young street kids. He deprived the pimps and gangsters of part of their living. None of them would have been surprised to find him being stopped by some thug.
What they would have been surprised at was Marco Cappelli stepping out in front of him with a
‘Good afternoon, Detective’.
Sergey returned the greeting coolly. The street was full of people and Sergey had no intention that innocents be killed by stray bullets. He kept his hands carefully in front of him. For all his caution, he did not believe for a second that Marco would shoot a cop in front of a lot of bystanders. This was something else.
‘My father send his greetings, Detective Solarin,’ there was a smile on Cappelli’s face as he spoke, but his stance and the set of his shoulders conveyed a threat. ‘And a friendly word. Keep away from our girls. They are not your business.’
‘I believe that’s your warning, Marco. Your father wouldn’t ‘lower himself’ by talking to a cop himself, or having one of his sons do that. He’d send someone lower down the chain. Or has your position in the family slipped?’
Sergey met Marco's eyes and answered calmly.
‘It’s time you learned the lessons the other cops in this town have learned, Dickwit,’ Marco growled. ‘We’ve given you a chance, let you settle in. We hoped you would learn the rules, but in two years you are making more trouble rather than less. You have interfered with our girls, our casino and our other business. There is going to be a reckoning if you don’t start listening to your colleagues."
‘I’m prepared for it, Marco. The crooks and lowlifes in this town have been without proper law for too long. I’m not changing how I work for anybody,’ Sergey kept his voice calm as he spoke, but he was fighting the urge to punch Marco.
‘Stupid man. You think you are some kind of Sheriff in a white hat? Sent to clean up the town? Its time you saw the real world, Detective. You have family of your own to think about,’ Marco sneered.
Sergey schooled his face to show nothing, but a chill clutched at his heart. He shook his head and gave Marco a disgusted look.
‘I thought your father had more honour than to make war on children,’ he retorted. Something flickered across Marco's face and Sergey knew he was right.
Don Cappelli had a sentimental streak and contributed to numerous educational and recreational projects in the town.
Sergey had always suspected that he was unaware of the younger girls and boys his sons ran. On more than one occasion he had considered trying to find a way to have a discussion with the Don.
Inside the police station, in his office, Sergey found his younger brother Nikita standing at the window.
‘I saw you with Marco. I would have come down if I had thought there had been any danger’, Nikita told him.
‘No, you wouldn’t have. I’ve told you before that I don’t want you involved with these guys. You’re not equipped to tangle with them,’ Sergey replied. ‘You’re a lawyer, Nikki. You do your thing in the courts; I do mine on the streets.’
Nikita scowled. Ever since they had been children Sergey had been protective towards him, emphasising the differences between them. Sergey was the strong one, Nikita the smart one. Nikita had been small and skinny as a child and had been the obvious target for bullies, until his taller, bulkier brother had intervened.
Yet Sergey had never made Nikita feel inferior. In fact, he had always asked his brother’s advice and help. ‘You’re smart, you’ll know this’, ‘what should I do here?’ and ‘I need your advice’ were words Sergey often directed at his brother. Yet sometimes Nikita would prefer to be there at his brother’s side when the physical stuff started. Nikita could see the same pattern evolving with their sons. The two boys were damn near clones of their fathers and Alexei was two years younger than Ladislaus. Even the age gap was the same.
‘There’s word on the streets that you are pissing off the Capellis. I guess that’s what Marco was talking to you about?
‘He threatened my family, Nikki. Do you think that I should have you and the boys move out of town?’
‘We wouldn’t go. Don Cappelli won’t let his boys harm the kids and I can take care of myself. I’ve learned some martial arts and I’m able to shoot pretty well.’ Nikita replied.
‘You probably wouldn’t even know that they were there, Nik. Maybe I should just learn to play the game?’ Sergey asked quietly.
Nikita scowled. His brother had been very down lately, sometimes feeling that he was fighting a battle on two fronts, from the corruption within the station and the criminal activities on the streets.
And it was heading to that time of the year again. The second of February was just two weeks away. The date of the car crash that had killed Elena and Raisa and left both men widowed and their sons motherless. Sergey was always hit harder by memories than Nikita.
Chapter 2
Tom’s Diner
‘Hey Irissa, how are you doing?’ Sergey asked as the girl walked towards a booth, carrying her school books. She looked distant and unhappy. ‘Come and sit for a while, tell me what’s new.’
Irissa sat down and poured herself a glass of water from the jug on the table.
‘My mother is out. She hasn’t left the key in the usual place,’ she said. ‘I thought I’d have a coffee here and do my homework.’
A coffee, Sergey thought. It’s been two hours since school finished so she’s been hanging around since then and I bet she has had no food. I also don’t imagine she has any money beyond enough for a coffee.
‘I was about to have some dinner. Will you join me?’ He asked.
Irissa looked a bit panicked.
‘My treat, Irissa. Amarose gives the cops from the station really cheap rates,’ Sergey assured her. Over his shoulder Amarose raised an eyebrow.
Irissa chewed on her lip and then nodded.
‘I’d like that,’ she said.
Sergey signalled one of the servers for menus.
‘The chilli here is great,’ he informed her. ‘That’s what I’m having.’
‘I thought I might like some of the cherry pie,’ Irissa replied, looking sheepish. ‘I have a sweet tooth.’
‘You have that in common with Amarose. She does a fair bit of the baking herself. Her pies and cheesecakes are fantastic. But don’t you think you out to have some proper food first?’ Sergey suggested.
Again Irissa looked uncomfortable. Sergey realised she felt uncomfortable with him spending money on her. He touched her hand lightly.
‘You can treat me next time.’
Irissa sighed.
‘It would be fine if I thought that I could do that, but I never have any money, Detective Solarin. I don’t get an allowance.’
‘Maybe you could try to get a job, then? I know you are trying hard to study, but I know Amarose is in need of someone a couple of hours an evening. I could talk to her,’ Sergey offered.
Irissa’s face lit up. She looked across and the friendly faced woman who ran the diner. Amarose was chatting to one of her staff, pointing out how a job should be done.
Irissa thought that she could enjoy working for her. She turned back to Sergey.
‘I’d really like that. Detective Solarin, why is this Tom’s Diner and not Amarose’s?’ She asked.
‘It was her father’s. He started the shelter Amarose now runs, too. At first it was for runaways and battered women. Now Amarose uses it as a centre for kids getting off the streets,’ Sergey explained.
Irissa looked at the woman with new respect.
Standing close to them Amarose had overheard part of the conversation. She moved to a vantage point to observe them. She knew that Sergey had no idea if she had any vacancies and would offer to pay the girl’s wages. As it happened she had just had to fire a girl who had spent more time chatting and flirting with the male customers than working. If Sergey’s lost puppy could work she would be glad to give her a job.
Chapter 3
Night Games
Suzanne lay on the bed with Julius Cappelli and smiled to herself. Now she was made. The Cappelli’s owned Darksprings and thanks to her new friend Sandy Suzanne had received an invitation to one of their ‘House Parties’. The early evening had been interesting and there had been wine and food in abundance. The Cappelli men had been the only ones there and they had moved among the assembled girls talking and joking, but Suzanne had felt as if they were all being judged and assessed, like cattle at the market. She had told sandy as much. The younger woman had laughed.
“Haven’t you noticed that there are less of us than there were? The staff are discretely telling some of the girls to leave. Think yourself lucky. You are the oldest ‘still standing’. We’ll see how you fare when the games really start later. Stephano will leave for his town apartment in about an hour then the boy’s will start ‘auditioning’ us for the new club they have opened.
Suzanne had bristled. She was not old. Thirty one was not old. She had been barely seventeen when she had given birth to Irissa.
She had watched with interest and not a little nervousness as the number of girls had reduced further. In the end there were eight of them left in the large, rambling rooms of the mansion. Then a girl and one of the Cappelli males would disappear for a while. Marco had taken Suzanne upstairs first. The man had been athletic and demanding and Suzanne had found herself just a little afraid of him, but he was the eldest brother and therefore the one with the most power, so Suzanne had called on her full repertoire to impress and please him. After, he had sent her back downstairs. As she had returned to the reception rooms she saw a small, curvy blonde being accompanied to the door. A ‘fail’, she presumed. Sandy smiled at her.
‘If Marco has kept you, you are as good as in. Relax. You’ll be here for the full weekend of debauchery,’ she assured Suzanne. ‘You’re into the cushy life now. A decent, safe place to work and a decent, regular wage. Just don’t cross them, Suzanne. Marco is a dangerous bastard. You do everything they tell you and exactly as they tell you. If you don’t...”
“I’m not out to make waves,” Suzanne had replied.
That had been Friday night. Now, on Sunday afternoon, she had done the round of the Cappelli men and the number of girls was down to five. Sandy had also made the grade. Julius put his arm round her and murmured in her ear
“You’re the best one here, this weekend, Whore. Let’s do that again.”
Yes, a girl liked it when a guy was so spot on with the sweet talk, Suzanne thought sourly, forcing a smile onto her face and wriggling closer to him.
Money
Irissa scraped food from the plates and set the dirty dishes into the dishwasher and then cleaned off all of the kitchen counters. She had been almost a week in her new job and was loving it. The rest of the staff were fun and friendly and Amarose was a darling to work for. She did not tolerate slackers but was more than fair if you did what you were paid to do. “Time you had your break, Kid,” Dave the older of the two chefs told her.
“I’m good, “Irissa smiled back.
“Maybe so, but you ain’t gonna waste this Tuna sandwich I’ve made you. Go eat,” he ordered.
Irissa took the sandwich and headed for the booth at the back. While she ate she pored over her homework assignment and formatted how it should be tackled in her head. The atmosphere here was so much nicer than at home and in spite of the noise and chatter of the customers she found she could study more easily here than there. Her school grades were going up, which seemed contradictory. When she did have an issue with any part of her schoolwork other members of staff were usually willing to help her with the problem.
A couple of times in the week Sergey called in to eat and to see how things were working out but much as she would have liked to have stopped to chat she kept working as they talked, keen not to be seen as slacking. She was concerned that the rest of the staff might think that she had only got her job because of him and wanted to prove herself to them.
Irissa had no reason to worry on that score, though. The rest of the staff found her cheerful and hard working. When her tasks were finished she didn’t stop but happily lent a hand to the others.
On Friday Betsy asked her if she wanted to come bowling with them after work the next evening.
Irissa was delighted.
At the end of the shift Amarose paid her week’s wages and gave her a share of the tips that the staff always pooled and divided at the end of the week.
“You’ve done a great job this week, Irissa. I’m going to try you serving from tomorrow. And if you’re interested there is a breakfast shift on Sunday mornings. None of the others like that much.”
Irissa looked at the money she had earned. With tips it was a little over five hundred simoleons. She could give her mother some housekeeping money. There was somewhere she wanted to go, though. Something she could treat herself to.
No comments:
Post a Comment