‘That’s all good,’ Cowan declared. ‘We can check that out. Estonia’s in the European Union; it means she isn’t an illegal. She can be taken into care here, and maybe even fostered, if she doesn’t want to go back to her orphanage.’
‘Stay objective, Alice,’ Montell murmured. ‘There’s other issues here. Ask her how she got here, Mrs McStay.’
The woman sat on the bed beside Anna and took her hand as she spoke, and as she listened to what the girl had to say. When she was finished she looked up at the officers. ‘She says that she and her friends Ivana and Nadia, two other girls from the orphanage, one her own age, the other a year younger, were approached in the street in Tallin by a man. She says that he was friendly; he bought them ice cream, and asked them where they were from. They told him, and then he asked them if they were happy there. When all three said that they were not, he asked them if they would like to go on an adventure with him. He said that his business was to find girls to work in big houses in Britain, for wages beyond their dreams and for a life like a movie star. Naturally enough, the girls all said yes. Why would they not, poor little things, after years of being treated like Cinderellas by bloody awful nuns. So they met the man next day in the same place; he collected them in a big van, Anna says, with no windows but with lots of seats, for it wasn’t just them, there were six others, ethnic Estonian girls.’
‘Orphans too?’
‘I don’t think so; she said they were a year or two older than her and her friends and they were. . these aren’t the words she used, but it’s what she meant. . more worldly.’
‘When did this happen?’ Cowan asked.
‘At the end of October, so she’s been here for about three months.’
‘And where did they go?’
‘She doesn’t know. All she knows is that they drove for a long time, until they came, as she says, to a place where they could hear lots of seagulls. There, all nine girls were put into what she described as a big shed.’
‘A big shed,’ Montell repeated. ‘Could that have been a freight container?’
Mrs McStay nodded agreement. ‘I think it must have been. The man told them,’ she went on, ‘that the next part had to be secret, and that they had to stay there. He said that it wouldn’t be long; gave them plenty of food and water, and lamps that worked on batteries, then they were closed in. There was noise, she says, they were lifted and then driven again; then. . and this is the way she put it. . it got bumpy. One of the girls was very sick. From what she told me next, they were only at sea for one night. A couple of the other girls had watches, so they knew what time it was, at least what time it was where they had come from.’
‘And when they docked?’
‘That’s as far as we’d got.’
‘Let’s pause for a bit,’ said Russell Cairns. ‘She’s getting anxious.’ He pointed to the plate on the Anna’s lap, and she nodded vigorously. ‘She’s also as hungry as a rugby pack; I’ll get her some more sandwiches.’
As they waited, the detectives and the interpreter stood by the window, leaving Anna sipping at her Irn Bru, and smiling occasionally in their direction, as if she was finally beginning to believe that she was safe. ‘We need to know everything she can tell us,’ Montell murmured to Mrs McStay. ‘How she got to Edinburgh, and an idea of how long it took. That might give us a clue to where they were brought in.’
‘Yes,’ Cowan confirmed, ‘and more than that. From what she says we’ve got eight other kids out there, possibly being subjected to the same sort of abuse she has. We need to trace them too, fast, and we need to find the scumbag who’s behind it all. I really want to meet him.’
‘Me too,’ her colleague growled, as the charge nurse came back into the room.
‘Prawn mayonnaise,’ he announced. ‘That’s all we’ve got left.’
Mrs McStay translated for Anna, who managed to nod, shrug and grin at the same time, making it as clear as if she had spoken that she had no idea what prawns were but did not care, as long as they were edible.
They waited until she was finished, before the interpreter went back to the bed and resumed her questioning. At first the girl answered quickly, and freely, until her face seemed to darken, and her eyes twisted with pain as she spoke, as if that had come back with the memory of what she was describing. Then, suddenly, from out of nowhere, she put her hand to her mouth and giggled.
Lyudmila McStay was grim-faced as she turned back towards the detectives. ‘I think she’s told me all she has to tell now. They were driven off the ferry, she said; the truck went into a park, and they were let out.’
‘To avoid any search by customs, I suppose,’ Cowan murmured.
‘That’s not something she would know, is it? All she says is that they were transferred into another closed van by the man from Tallin and another man, a fat man, and driven again, for three hours, she says, until they stopped. Again, she knows the time from the older girl with the watch.’
‘Three hours,’ Montell mused. ‘What does that tell us?’
‘Depends on where they stopped, doesn’t it?’ Cowan pointed out. ‘If it was Edinburgh, then it tells us they landed at Newcastle.’
‘And sailed from?’
‘Almost certainly Holland; from what she’s saying she was on a roll-on, roll-off ferry, a passenger vessel. All the other routes to Newcastle are freight only, where they’d have been lifted off by a crane.’
‘How come you know so much?’
Alice winked at him. ‘I was in Special Branch, wasn’t I?’
‘Where did they stop, Mrs McStay?’ Montell asked. ‘Does she have any idea?’
‘Not a clue. But from what she says. . She told me that when they stopped, and the van was opened, they were in a place beside a wood. She says there were caravans, but they were all empty. Over the tops of the trees they could see a line of huge windmills.’
‘Windmills? Soutra, perhaps?’
She thought about it for a few seconds. ‘Yes, that’s a possibility, I would say. When they got out, there were cars waiting for them, four, with drivers. The man from Tallin. . that was the last time she saw him. . told them that these people would take them to the houses where they would be working, that they would be given clothes there and fed. Anna and her two friends from the orphanage all went in the same car, with a man whose name was Linas, a big rough fellow, she says, with his hair cut like a German; I think she means that he had a crew cut. The other two girls were dropped off on the way, and she and this Linas man ended up at a place in the city, near the sea, she said. He took her into a basement flat, by her description, with lots of rooms. It was hot even though it had been cold outside, and there were several women about. One of them gave her new clothes to wear, and she dyed her hair, making it fair from dark. But she didn’t stay there. Linas took her upstairs to another house, the flat above, where it was just the two of them. He gave her some food. . pizza, she remembers. . and something to drink that made her feel dizzy. Then he told her to take her clothes off, and. .’ Mrs McStay drew in a deep breath, then let it go. Garlic bread for lunch, Montell thought. ‘. . he raped her. The poor little kid,’ she whispered to them, as if Anna could have understood her had she heard. ‘She didn’t know what was happening to her, and I don’t think she does yet. She simply talks about him “doing the thing”, not just him, but other men who came to the house. She doesn’t appear to have been beaten, ever, or threatened, not that she can recall. She was simply kept drugged and used. But she’s very vague about it. She says that all her memories of that time are hidden in a mist. I hope it never clears.’ She looked at Alice Cowan. ‘Is that all?’ she asked. ‘For I don’t think I can take any more of this.’