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If this was a trafficking hub so central to Paris, Rose would have been brought here, she was sure. Did they keep records? Would she ever be able to work this out?
She eased the window wide enough for her to see past that reflective glass.
Sure enough, it was a bathroom. And the window wasn't barred, probably because it was so small. She was guessing, from the state of the bathroom and the shape she could just make out in the corner that looked like a urinal, that it was a men's bathroom.
She pushed the window open. Better, now, to be fast.
Cora scrambled inside through the narrow gap, lowered herself down, and stood there, listening hard, getting her bearings, knowing the door could open at any moment.
The place was squalid, and the stench was nauseating. She breathed through her mouth as she moved slowly across the sticky floor. Reached the door.
As she did, she heard fast footsteps approach. And the door slammed open. Moving fast, Cora flattened herself behind it until she could see who it was, knowing she'd have only a moment before it closed again, and she was visible from the grimy mirror opposite.
A man walked in. He had dark hair cut short, a bulky jaw, and a jaded look in his eyes. He stomped over to the urinal with the door squeaking closed behind him.
He glanced in the mirror as he passed it.
He saw her. For sure, they were on the alert in this place. He swung around, but Cora was quicker. She leaped toward him, clamping a hand over his mouth and ramming a knee into his groin with all the force she had.
He doubled over, gasping, eyes watering from the pain.
"You tell me," she hissed in his ear. "Tell me nicely, and be truthful. Who's in charge here? Who's the boss man?"
He shook his head violently, still cringing down, a spent force in terms of any physical retaliation.
"Tell me," Cora threatened.
Again, he shook his head.
"I don't think you understand," she said, taking the opportunity to grab hold of his upper lip and pinch it hard. "Nobody's ever going to know you told me anything. Just you and me. But if you don't tell me, I'm going to do things to you that people will know about. And then you'll be in trouble even if you tell me nothing. So, you'd better spill. I'm counting to three. One. Two."
Just before she said three, he gasped.
"Okay. Okay. Look, I try not to get involved here. I'm just a repairman. They hire me from time to time. I’ve been here fixing a door. And the boss man is Danny."
"Last name?"
"Rodic."
“What’s he look like?”
“Dark hair, short beard, tall guy.”
“Wearing?”
He took a few frantic breaths as he thought.
“Wearing a red shirt today. Please, stop pinching my nose.” His eyes were flooding with tears. She thought he’d told the truth about who he was. He wasn’t a tough guy, and he didn't know how to fight. Hopefully, that meant he'd also told Cora the truth about the other things she needed to know.
"How long's Rodic been in charge?"
"Five years."
Five years was enough. Rose had been brought here sooner than that. So the boss man, Danny, would know her.
She'd lied to him, though. She wasn't letting anyone go free in this place. They were all monsters, complicit in the worst possible human suffering. And she didn’t want him warning anyone else.
She took out her second stolen gun, and using its grip, she slammed him viciously in the temple. His head jerked sideways, and he crumpled down. He'd be out of action for a few minutes, she guessed, and then most likely this would be over. She headed out of the men's room and closed the door behind her, and walked on, looking carefully around.
