mumbles something that may be, “I’m sorry.”
“Since you’re acquainted,” I say to the room, “perhaps you could talk about some of your common interests. Blake, we’ll talk in my office. I should let you know,” I say as I wave him toward the conference room door, “that I’m not a fan of Mr. Alexanian.”
I’m amazed I don’t pass out as we shoot the shit, walking toward my office. Then we’re inside, and I’m sitting at my desk, and he’s taking a seat in front. I feel like a principal who’s called a student into my office, and I like that. This Blake kid looks no older than early twenties.
“So, you are seeing Fatima…what, socially?”
He looks down then back up, smirk-smiling. “Actually…we had a blind date. We both went to NYU. So…you know…mutual friends.”
“Fatima has done some great work for our office. What made you decide to come over today?”
“Well like I said, the people over us…they’re wanting as much verification as they can about the shit—I’m sorry, things”—he clears his throat—“that we have on Galante. One thing we’ve picked up on is that the two—Luca Galante and Aren—are not as friendly as they once were. So we’re interested in verifying that what Aren has on the Arnoldis isn’t fabricated. Although I doubt it is. We’ve heard rumors for years about the Houdini Don’s involvement in the trafficking of women and kids.”
“What?” It just slips out.
He nods. “Oh yeah. There’s some videos, and they look bad. Fatima said your office had them, too, so we looked at them together. Did you see them?”
I frown as if I’m contemplating—when in actuality, I’m losing my mind. Fatima lied to him, presumably so he would show her what the FBI has; we definitely do not have these videos. “I’m not sure,” I say, going for absentminded.
“I think you’d remember. It’s some fucked-up shit.”
He pulls a phone from his pocket, and his brow furrows as he passes it to me.
On the screen, I see Luca, wearing dark clothes. It takes me a minute to realize he’s in the apartment where he took me recently—the one near my place. I squint as my pulse quickens; I’m pretty sure there’s something on the bed. Okay, yes, there’s someone on the bed. Two women. One is on her side with her hands tied behind her back. The other is on her back. Luca wraps his hands around the upper arms of the woman lying on her back, and I see another man move into and out of the frame, at the right corner.
“That’s the brother. Soren Galante.”
The camera shifts slightly, showing Luca as he carries this limp woman into the bathroom. He hits her head on the counter—clearly an accident—and murmurs, “Fuck.” Then, with his body bracing hers against the counter, he turns the sink on and starts splashing her face.
“Soren,” he calls, seemingly oblivious to the camera in the doorway. His brother comes in, helping him hold her. She’s got on a bra and blue jeans. Luca takes her feet and puts them under the water, and she wakes up fighting. He and Soren hold her down. The person with the camera goes back in the other room and seems to lie on the bed. The camera’s pointing at the woman right beside her, though. There are marks around her wrists and ankles…blood on her pants.
“Oh my God. Who has the camera?”
“It’s our person. She went undercover as one of the victims.”
“What are they doing?”
I gag, and he grabs the phone. “Are you okay?”
I hold my face, squeezing my eyes shut until the barfy feeling passes. “I’m sorry. I’m pregnant. No one knows, so keep that to yourself, please.”
He smirks. “A pregnant D.A.”
“Yes, and a young guy from FBI who came over uninvited, brought a party, and showed confidential FBI materials to my employee.”
“Whoa now. I was just—”
“Don’t say anything about what I just told you. That is all I’m asking.”
“You got it. Anyway.” He slides the phone back into his pocket.
“So what did your undercover agent report? About the operation?”
“She went in to that situation set up as someone trafficked to the Armenians, and then to Galante. Luca and his brother ‘bought’ her, and since she seemed drugged, they took her to this place, where I guess the sick ones can get an IV from a nurse. That woman they have in the bathroom died. Someone doped her up too much.”
“Who?”
“I assume who had her first, or Aren’s crew, or maybe the Arnoldis. I don’t know.