Kathy Reichs - Bones of the Lost - A Temperance Brennan Novel

“Sweet Jesus. How could someone sell his own flesh and blood?”

“In Ara’s case, it was ‘her.’ ”

“Sorry?” I didn’t get Dew’s meaning.

“Ara’s mother turned her over to Hayel.”

“She sold her own daughter?”

The snowy cotton stretched, eased as Dew inhaled then exhaled slowly.

“Ara’s mother is a woman named Gulpari. At age seven Gulpari saw her mother raped by Taliban fighters. When Gulpari’s father tried to intervene, the men shot him.

“Following the rape, the dishonored widow was shunned. With no prospects for remarriage, she kept her daughters, Gulpari and Noushin, clothed and fed by begging and performing menial tasks.

“At fourteen, Noushin was sent to marry a man in a neighboring village. The man’s family worked the girl sixteen hours per day and forced her to sleep in their unheated barn. When Noushin was caught trying to escape, her husband and father-in-law held her down and doused her with acid. Two days later, Noushin managed to return to her mother’s house. She died of infection resulting from her burns. Gulpari was twelve.”

Dew stared at his hands as he continued.

“Gulpari was raped by the Taliban at age fifteen. Like her mother, she was spurned by the village and treated with scorn. Ara was born on Gulpari’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Gulpari wanted a better life for Ara.” Barely trusting my voice.

Dew nodded, still looking down. “When Hayel talked of jobs in America, Gulpari believed him. He was her brother. Why would he lie?”

“Hayel sold Ara to Gross.”

“For two hundred dollars.”

I got up to stir the embers. Pointless, but I needed to move. To divert the anger and grief threatening to overwhelm me.

“After John-Henry died, did Archer continue with business as usual?” When I’d returned to my chair.

Dew cleared his throat. Twice. Met my eyes.

“Of the sixteen girls currently in ICE custody, two were brought into the country after Archer assumed management of the various Story enterprises, including SayDo.”

“How does he explain that?”

“Mr. Story claims to know nothing of his employees’ histories. And he vehemently denies any knowledge of prostitution at his establishments, forced or otherwise.”

“You buy that?”

The pink-lemonade face darkened. “I believe the government’s star witness is being less than forthcoming. But, thanks to you, our investigation has shifted focus. We will learn more. Much more.”

“What about Dominick Rockett?”

Dew was quiet a moment, probably deciding what best to say.

“The mummified dogs will be returned to Peru. Mr. Rockett’s files have been confiscated to check for information on other illegally trafficked antiquities.”

“Dom Rockett never smuggled human beings.” I’d given that question a whole lot of thought.

“It seems not.”

“Rockett met John-Henry Story through his nephew?”

“Mr. Rockett and Lieutenant Gross served together in Desert Storm. Perhaps out of pity, perhaps at his nephew’s urging, John-Henry hired the disfigured vet. Rockett was compensated in part with shares in the company. At least that’s the version Archer Story gives.”

“What did Rockett do for S&S?”

“Whatever needed doing. Driving. Security. Hiring contractors and workers for maintenance and repair. Rockett also sold articles at S&S flea markets, items legally imported from South America.”

“Rockett had no involvement with SayDo?”

“It looks that way.”

“But CC Creach saw him at the Passion Fruit.”

Dew raised both palms, dropped them back to his knees. “Due to his condition, Mr. Rockett enjoyed limited access to women.”

Delicately put.

“Why did Rockett make the trips to Texas?” I asked.

“He was assisting Story in the closing of his car dealerships. John-Henry was selling off inventory, and, occasionally, delivery was required. Rockett would fly to Texas and drive cars wherever they needed to go.”

“What was Rockett doing at the warehouse last Thursday?”

“According to Mrs. Tarzec, he showed up at the Passion Fruit that evening very agitated and wanting to look around. She told him no one was there. He demanded the truth about the girls, said he knew they were trafficked because the cops had told him. Then he asked where they’d been taken. When threatened at gunpoint, Mrs. Tarzec revealed the location. After Rockett stormed off, she phoned Majerick.”

“Rockett went looking for Gross. Or maybe he just planned to free the girls. Either way, he’d had enough. He died trying to undo at least some of the evil.”

“I believe you are correct.”

“What will happen to the girls now?”

“That must be worked out. If they are deported back to Afghanistan, there is an NGO-run shelter in Kabul for victims of trafficking.”

“Will Ara’s body be returned to Sheyn Bagh for burial?”

“If funds allow.”

“I’m happy to help if money is an issue.”

A sad promise kept.

“Your offer is very generous, Dr. Brennan. I’ll do all in my power to assure that is not necessary.”

Dew smiled sadly.

“We accomplish what we can. But, worldwide, human trafficking generates billions of dollars annually. Think of this. A gram of cocaine or heroin can be sold only once. A human being can generate income for years. Did you know that North Carolina is the eighth most likely state in the U.S. for trafficking to take place?”

“At least the problem is gaining attention.”

“Yes. It is. But the picture is still bleak. In December of 2012, the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime published a global report on trafficking in persons. Almost one third of all trafficking victims are children. Two thirds are girls.”

Dew rose to his feet with Baryshnikov grace.

“On a more positive note, one hundred and fifty-four governments have now ratified the UNDOC Trafficking in Persons Protocol, and eighty-three percent of countries now have a law that criminalizes trafficking in persons that is in accordance with the protocol.”

Dew really did speak as though reading aloud.

“Including the U.S.,” I said.

“Yes. United States Code Title 18, Section 1591 stipulates severe penalties for anyone involved in human trafficking, and, as you no doubt know, North Carolina also has very strong laws. The difficulty comes in catching the traffickers because victims are so powerless and afraid.”

“It’s a start,” I said.

“It’s a start,” Dew agreed.

Wishing me a speedy recovery, Dew departed.

That evening it was Pete. His ninety-pound fruit basket had arrived on Saturday, so he came bearing Chinese takeout and at least one of everything sold at Dean and DeLuca.

As I watched him stock my pantry and fridge, I wondered why Summer was elsewhere. Didn’t ask.

While Pete opened little white cartons, I set two places at the table. Then we helped ourselves to brown rice, seafood lo mein, cashew chicken, and eggplant in garlic sauce.

Way to go, Pete. My Baoding favorites.

Over dinner, we discussed Katy, Majerick, Rockett, the Story brothers, D’Ostillo, Ara, and her mother. And of course John-Henry Gross.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into the whole mess, sugarbritches.”

“Don’t be.”

“It seems impossible that Hunter has a nephew capable of such cruelty. He’s such an ethical person.”

“John’s behavior is no reflection on Hunter.”

A few beats passed. When Pete spoke his voice was taut.

“John Gross dishonored his oath. And shamed the Corps.”

“Gross was an aberration. He shamed himself, not the Corps. When Eggers made accusations, the Corps played it by the book, did Gross no favors. The command investigated and prosecuted in an honest and forthright manner.”