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I run my hand over my face, covering my mouth. “The Giant,” I remind him. “Sascha called him that during our last interview.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s some variation of, ‘No’, in Russian.”
Mani grins, quick and wicked. “Maybe it’s all his mother could say birthing that giant fucker.”
I just shake my head.
We wait for what feels like an eternity. Eventually, the doors open again and, sure enough, the Giant emerges. “What?”
“Mani holds up his badge again. “Sascha here?”
“He just got back.”
“Oh,” Mani acts delighted. “Perfect timing!” Pushing off the wall, he adds, “We need to speak to him. Now.”
“About?”
Taking the folded photograph print out of his pocket, Mani holds it up to Nyet’s face. “Look familiar?”
The Giant’s expression remains neutral. But I am staring at his face, so I see his pupils dilate and his nostrils flare for a second before he gains control of his tells. “No.”
“That’s not what our informant said, is it Aiden?”
The Giant turns to look at me. I smile; it is cold and unflinching. “Word on the street is that quite a few girls working here have this exact same brand.”
“So…Either we could get a warrant and come back tonight when things are hopping. Or Sascha could talk to us now...” Mani trails off, giving the man time to think.
“Come,” he says finally and, stepping backwards, makes room for us to enter.
We follow.
Tonight, the Mousetrap looks completely different than it did the last time we came. The bar is set up; it gleams with the colorful neon blue and pink lights beneath the bar top. Behind the counter, a pair of young bartenders go over their supplies, cross-checking off a list on a clipboard. Girls in the same tiny dresses wander about, righting small things in preparation for opening. The cage above the dancefloor now has two people in it, a young man and woman, testing sound equipment.
“Wait.” Nyet leaves us at the bar and walks back towards Sascha’s office.
The moment he’s out of earshot, Mani whispers, “You see his reaction to the photo?”
“Yup. It was small.”
“But it was there.”
I nod.
Sascha comes out in moments. He’s dressed in black suit pants and a white button-down, but he has the same snakeskin boots on and oily, slicked-back hair, which, coupled with his small, black eyes give him a decidedly reptilian appearance. “What do you want?”
I notice that Nyet has not come back through with him, and the hair on the back of my neck pulls tight when I think about where he could have gone.
Catherine’s here. I can feel it.
“We have some questions.” Slowly, Mani takes the photograph out of his pocket. “About a missing girl. A friend of Elizabeth’s.”
Sascha’s eyes do not flash with grief this time. “I didn’t know her friends. I’ve only met Antoinette once or twice.”
“That’s not what we’ve been told.” Mani passes him the photo.
Sascha looks at it for two seconds, but his face curves into an evil grin. “This?” He waves the paper in Mani’s face. “Thisis what you have?”
