Ruth was surprised at how little she stood out on the Las Vegas Boulevard strip at four in the afternoon. Despite her scanty outfit and horrendously overdone makeup, no one was taking much notice of her at all. Although she’d grown up in the neighbouring city of LA, she’d never been to Las Vegas. It was nothing like she’d imagined. The afternoon sun exposed the layer of grime covering every flamboyant facade and towering sign. The air was dusty, hot and stifling and the greasy black asphalt of the roads gave off an oppressive heat that quavered on the horizon. Only darkness could make the place seem grand.
Ruth had chosen a relatively quiet part of the strip to stage her performance. She strutted provocatively over to a nearby pay phone and leant against it, chewing feverishly on some gum. Las Vegas locals strode past without so much as a sidewards glance and the occasional tourist averted their eyes as they wandered down the Boulevard taking photos. After two hours and twenty-one minutes of looking pathetic, and a little lost, Ruth decided she would have to take real action. Until then, she had relied purely on her appearance to advertise that she was a hooker, but now she would have to try soliciting some passer-by to really make the point.
An older man in a cheap business suit walked by. Ruth thought that maybe she should wait for a more sophisticated person, someone that was less likely to actually take her up on her bogus offer. A few minutes later, a tourist couple strolled towards her. Ruth guessed that they were Japanese; both the man and the woman had huge cameras dangling around their neck. Perfect. She stepped out from around the phone booth as the couple approached.
“Looking for a good time, mister?”
“Yes, yes we are,” the woman replied excitedly in a thick accent.
Ruth dropped her sexy pout. “Huh?”
“Yes, we sight-see. Do you know where we find famous sign?”
“Oh,” Ruth said, slipping back into character and feigning disappointment. “No, I’m not from around here.”
After the couple had bowed vigorously and strolled onwards, Ruth took up a downright pornographic pose against a nearby wall. With her back to the wall, she bent one knee and tucked her heel against it. Her already short dress rode up to reveal the sides of her black underwear. It was her final endeavour to scream, I’m a prostitute! without actually verbalising it. After several minutes, Ruth finally decided to give up. It was still only 6.45 pm and clearly too early to be out like this. Mustav’s girls probably didn’t start until after dark and if the girls weren’t out, it’s likely their pimps weren’t out either. She would just have to try again later.
Ruth opened her gold chainmail bag to retrieve her cell and call Vince but just as she did, a shrill whistle attracted her attention. She looked up to see a man in a white polo shirt and large baggy jeans walking towards her. Ruth eyed him cautiously. His huge watch and thick gold necklace glinted in the waning sunlight as he swaggered across the street but the real spectacle was revealed when he flashed Ruth a sideways smile, revealing gold grills.
“What are you looking for chica?” he asked while adjusting his privates.
“What you got?” Ruth asked with feigned confidence.
“I got some good advice for you ho,” he responded. “Get the fuck off this street before you get seen by someone else. This street is owned and if you wanna work it, you gotta ask first.”
Ruth fiddled with her handbag strap nervously. “I’m new in town and I didn’t know,” she said. “I’ll head down town.”
“That’s owned too,” the man said. “This whole strip is owned so you either gotta join the crew or you get the fuck out.”
“C’mon honey, I need the money real bad,” Ruth said pathetically.
The man looked her up and down and then surveyed the street. He reached into his pocket. Ruth froze with fear, her eyes glued to his hidden hand. To her relief he pulled out a cell phone and started flicking through his contacts.
“Since you’re pretty fuckable, I’ll see what I can do,” he said. “I do you a favour, you do me a favour. You know what I mean?” The man had a seedy smile on his face while he adjusted his privates again.
Ruth smiled seductively but she felt like she was going to be sick. “I know what you’re saying sugar,” she said. “I’ll give you a favour like you’ve never had before, if you can get me in good with the owner.”
The man flashed his grills and pressed a button on his phone. Ruth waited nervously while he spoke to someone named Riz, telling him or her that he was ‘bringing in a new ho’. Ruth couldn’t believe what she was doing, what she had just signed up for. She glanced around the quiet street, contemplating an escape. There was no way of telling whether she would be taken to Mustav or if she would be locked away in some dark hole, never to be seen again. She had no way of defending herself if things got ugly.
The man hung up the phone and motioned for her to follow him. She apprehensively complied and trailed him down a nearby alley into a white van. The man introduced himself as Tido. “I’m Hope,” Ruth replied.
Tido snorted with laughter as they pulled out. “Hope?” he said. “We might have to give you a new name.”
After driving for about twenty minutes, they arrived at a small block of shops in what looked like the outskirts of Chinatown. Ruth was pretty certain Tido had driven round in circles a few times to make her lose her bearings. It had worked.
They got out of the van and Ruth followed Tido into a dry-cleaners shop front. He walked behind the counter where a small Asian woman in her sixties hurried into the corner and avoided eye contact. Ruth followed him into the back and then down a short corridor, passing racks of hanging clothes and noisy machines on the way. At the end of the corridor Tido punched a code into the security lock next to a sturdy grey door. He opened it and then held it open for Ruth, bowing like a courtly gentleman as she walked inside. She gripped her handbag to hide the tremor in her hands.
The door led to room that contained a counter and some chairs lined up next to a table covered in pornographic magazines. A sickly thin and scantily dressed dark haired woman sat behind the counter reading a magazine. As they passed, the woman flashed Ruth a venomous sneer. Ruth and Tido continued down a long corridor with darkened rooms leading off on each side. The lights overhead were dim, glowing a burnt orange colour. Tido took a sharp turn into the fourth room on the right. Ruth wanted to keep walking but she reluctantly entered the room behind him. Inside she was horrified to find a dirty double bed, a small sink and several stained bean bags scattered on the floor. Tido promptly threw himself onto one of the bags, looked up at Ruth with a slimy smile and patted the bag next to him expectantly.
“Where is this owner?” Ruth asked trying to hide the quaver in her voice.
The smile on Tido’s face disappeared. “She’s busy, bitch. You think she’s got time to see every two-bit whore in town?”
“But I though you said you’d help me.”
“I said I’d do you a favour if you do me a favour,” he spat through his grills, pulling her down by the wrist so she fell onto the bag next to him. “So do me a fucking favour.”
He unzipped his fly.
Ruth found it difficult to draw breath and was unable to move. She had to escape, but what could she do? This guy was one second away from some extreme violence if she didn’t comply, she knew that much. She needed to buy some time so she could think of a way out of this. “Hold on big boy,” she said, struggling to conceal her dizzying, short shallow breaths. “What about setting the mood first?”
“You want some brown?” Tido asked, cheering up slightly. “Help you relax?”
“Sure,” Ruth said, wondering what ‘brown’ was.
Tido leaned over and reached under the bed. He pulled out a small black bag and proceeded to unpack it. The bag contained a spoon, two loose syringes, a lighter and a small bag of what looked like brown sugar.
Ruth was trying not to show how panicked she was but it was getting harder and harder to hide. Tido put some of the brown substance onto the spoon and began heating it with the lighter. Oh my God. It’s heroin!
Ruth clung desperately to the single, fraying thread of control she had left. She had to think of a way out before Tido turned her mind into mush. If she didn’t, the consequences would be unthinkable.
If I screamed, would someone come to help me?
Tido drew the spoon’s contents into the syringe. He flicked the needle a few times and then snatched Ruth’s wrist, gripping it tightly in his hand. “Ladies first,” he said with a devilish smile. Ruth tried to pull her arm away but Tido was stronger and seemed to be taking pleasure in her struggle.
“No wait, please,” Ruth begged.
Tido stuck the needle into the vein at her inner elbow and slowly pumped the liquid into her system. Ruth watched helplessly in horror as the contents of the syringe disappeared. After a few seconds, her horror turned to a dull concern and then to a tingly tiredness. She looked up at Tido with sleepy eyes. He was already preparing another dose.
“Pretty good huh?” She heard the words echoing from somewhere off in the distance.
Ruth knew she had to stay alert but she felt so drowsy, so lethargic, so… nauseous. Ruth had no time to react to the rising bile in her throat; it was as though her mind was operating in slow motion. Before she knew what was happening, she had vomited into Tido’s lap. The trauma of being sick temporarily roused her faculties. Her eyes widened as she realised what the consequences would be. Tido was already screaming. Standing up, he towered above her. The last thing she saw was his fist coming towards her face and then sweet nothingness took her.
Ruth awoke in complete darkness. Fear quickly returned. Where am I? Her hands scrambled along the hard dusty ground beneath her back, for a clue. She found a beanbag down by her left hip. She must still be in the same room that Tido had led her into earlier. How long had she been out?
As she squinted to adjust her eyes to the darkness, a searing pain made itself known. Ruth put her hand to her eye and discovered it was swollen and hot to the touch. She rolled onto her side and regretted it immediately. A sharp pain fired through her chest and into her stomach. Now breathing hurt too. Ruth kneaded her torso gently in search of wounds but found none. Tido must have given her a boot to the ribs after he’d knocked her out.
“Prick,” she murmured under her bile-soured breath. She checked herself for other injuries but fortunately it appeared that aside from knocking her out and then taking a cheap shot at her ribs, Tido had left her alone. He was probably in a hurry to get washed up after I puked all over him.
Now her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Ruth bit her lip and pulled herself up off the floor using the nearby bed. She crept over to the closed door, crouched down and listened. She could hear the repetitive beat of nightclub music and underneath, people talking – no, not talking – moaning. Subconsciously, Ruth cradled her swollen cheek. She needed to plan her next move and get out of the room before Tido returned. If she could get within earshot of Mustav, she could demand a private meeting. The imperious madam would have to obey. Mustav was her only ticket out alive.
Ruth slowly opened the door a crack and peeked out into the hallway. A set of long slender legs in yellow PVC heels went striding past. Ruth withdrew behind the door and cringed as the pain in her ribs flared. She slowly peered around the door again. Another set of legs, this time wearing fishnets stockings, slowly sauntered by in the opposite direction. There were girls out there, walking around freely. Maybe she could blend in.
Ruth stood up gingerly, gathered herself and then opened the door and sassily strode out behind Fishnets. She twirled a lock of hair around her finger as she looked nonchalantly back towards the exit. The girl with the magazine had been replaced by a red haired girl wearing nothing but a G-string and black knee length boots. Ruth turned back around and continued to follow the prostitute in front of her. As they slowly strutted down the dingy hallway, Ruth checked the open rooms for signs of Mustav. There had to be an office somewhere.
Just as Fishnets neared the last door on the right, she bent over to pull her stockings up and Ruth, who was surveying the second-last door on the left, ran straight into her outstretched, bounteous rear-end.
“Hey,” Fishnets said turning around. “That should cost ya.”
“Sorry,” Ruth replied, trying to get around the woman to see into the next room.
“Hey who are you anyway?” Fishnets asked loudly.
“I’m new, I’m sorry but I’m new here.” Ruth spoke quietly, her eyes darting around to see whether anyone else was around.
Fishnets looked at her suspiciously, her fluorescent pink lips puckered in a disapproving pout. She was clearly planning to make more trouble but just at that moment, a large man with a ratty black ponytail stepped out from the door behind her. Despite the place being dimly lit, the man was wearing sunglasses.
“Girls, get in here,” he commanded. “Line up.”
Fishnets dealt Ruth a mistrustful frown, spun on her six-inch heels and sauntered past the man into the room. “Move!” he yelled at Ruth who was still trying to calculate what her options were. Noticing the pistol strapped to the man’s hip, she realised she had none and followed Fishnets inside.
There were white leather sofas edging two of the four black painted walls. Large, white paper lanterns hung from the ceiling, creating a scene that could be mistaken for a modern uptown wine bar. Two more women walked in behind Ruth. They joined the others who were sitting and standing casually around the long, L-shape sofa on the near side of the room. They arranged themselves into sexy yet blasé poses. Ruth joined them and found a spot sitting on the arm of the sofa, her legs tightly crossed.
After a few minutes, the women seemed to settle and the room fell silent. No one chatted or even made eye contact with one another. Ruth heard a click and looked up to see a door opening from within the wall at the far end of the room. She would never have known that it was there had she not seen it open. Through the door walked two men wearing cheap black suits. The girls on the sofa sprang to life again, smiling and leaning forward to improve the arrangement of their cleavage. The men nodded and spoke quietly to each other as they eyeballed their options. Their movements were erratic and their eyes darted back and forth between the prostitutes, the hanging lanterns and each other.
Ruth didn’t want to attract their attention but if she did, she knew she wouldn’t hold it for long. Her swollen, bruised eye was sure to turn them off. She made her best effort to look pathetic, rubbing the side of her eye so as to emphasize the injury. Ruth’s heart sank as she pressed harder on the socket of her eye. There was no pain, no swelling. She immediately felt her ribs, finding the same result. It must be the rapid healing power that Laura told me about.
“Gentlemen,” a penetrating voice shook Ruth from her thoughts. A small woman wearing a high-collared, red leather jacket that hung down to the ankles of her patent black boots, appeared from behind the door in the wall.
“Take your time and please take a seat.” She motioned towards the empty, smaller sofa on the opposite side of the room. The men sat, one leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees, the other relaxing back into a cross-legged slouch, his free foot bouncing up and down nervously.
“How many girls are vee considering tonight?” the woman asked in a thick Romanian accent. “Two, three?”
Ruth eyed the severe woman. She looked as though she could have been beautiful once, but now ugly frown lines etched the corners of her eyes and mouth. A small round mole on her cheek, just above her lip, was in the perfect position for a beauty spot, but instead a tuft of black hair sprouted from its centre. That must be Mustav.
The men whispered to each other briefly and then the more relaxed one responded through a thin smirk, “Just one.”
“Of course gentlemen, vhatever you vish. Please feel free to examine zee girls before you choose.”
As the men whispered and pointed, Mustav paced past the row of girls herself. She made eye contact with Ruth for a split second and then continued down the line. Ruth was torn between a feeling of accomplishment and sheer terror. This was the woman she was looking for but by all accounts, this wasn’t a woman you wanted to meet.
How should I do this? Should I start yelling commands at her here and now?
Ruth looked over at the exit. The man wearing the sunglasses stood in the doorway, the butt of the gun protruding from behind the zipper of his leather jacket.
I must get Mustav alone.
The anxious man got up and started talking to some of the women. He pulled the woman wearing bright yellow heels up and started grinding on her as she danced provocatively in the centre of the room. One of the other women got up and joined them. Mustav smiled approvingly.
The other man observed for a few minutes and then got up himself. He made a beeline for Ruth. “What’s your name sweetheart?”
Ruth’s nerves stood on edge. Her dry throat made it hard for her to answer, “I’m Hope.”
“Why are you so sad, Hope? It looks like you could do with some cheering up.”
Ruth suddenly realised the man was turned on by her pathetic charade so she quickly changed her tact. “Cuz I’m sick of lining up for cheap ass shits like you,” she said aggressively under her breath. “It’s a waste of my valuable time.”
The man was clearly taken aback. He looked at the other women sitting nearby to see if they had been privy to the confrontation. If they had, they pretended they hadn’t, seeming engrossed in the dirty dancing that was taking place in front of them.
The man thrust his menacing scowl so close to Ruth’s face that their noses were almost touching.
“I won’t waste your time,” he said. “I don’t fuck ugly whores and you are the ugliest whore I have ever seen.” With that he continued down the line of girls, taking a few opportunities to turn back and shoot Ruth a threatening glare. Ruth’s heart was pounding as she glanced over at Mustav to see if she’d witnessed the conflict. The madam was looking directly at her.
Now the two men were whispering again. Their body language said they couldn’t agree on a victim. After some time, the dirty dancer approached Mustav and spoke to her quietly. She nodded and motioned towards the door. “Riz vill show you and Juanitaout. He vill explain zee rules and sort out zee money. Thank you, gentleman.”
The man wearing the sunglasses escorted the men into the hallway. Juanita, the woman wearing the yellow heels, followed them out, a look of triumph speckled with sadness on her face.
After a few minutes of deflated chatter, the other girls slowly made their way back to their rooms as well. They filed past Mustav who said nothing but glared at them hatefully. Ruth followed them but as she reached the doorway Mustav grabbed her by the upper arm. “Hey,” Ruth protested as Mustav pinched her with her long sharp nails. Mustav was stronger than she looked; she dragged Ruth out through the hall and into a small office opposite the lounge. The dark haired woman from the front desk was arranging a line of white powder on the desk as they entered.
“Get out!” Mustav screamed. “And find Tido. Tell him to get his fucking ass in here now.”
The woman abandoned her drugs and trotted out of the office as fast as her oversized heels could carry her. Mustav slammed the door behind her. “Who are you and vhat the fuck are you doing in my line up,” she screamed, spitting with each word.
“My name is Ruth Wroth,” Ruth managed rather timidly. “I’m uh – I’m the–”
Mustav slapped Ruth across the face so hard that she felt she might lose consciousness.
“You stupid bitch. I know Tido bought you here after he found you stealing from me. No one lines up in my place unless I fucking say so, do you hear me?”
Ruth rubbed her tender cheek. Within seconds the pain had faded and her acute fear of Mustav had alchemised into equal parts hatred and determined professionalism. She took a deep breath, fingered the stone in her grandmother’s ring and regained her self-control. She would approach this terrifying, outlandish assignment just like she would any other. She had her well-rehearsed script and she would just simply follow it.
Ruth lifted her chin, threw her shoulders back and returned Mustav’s stare just as the door flew open and Tido strode in.
“Close zee door,” Mustav commanded, glancing sideways at Tido. Tido did as he was told and then joined Mustav, sneering spitefully at Ruth.
“Explain vhy zis bitch vas in my line up just now.”
Tido looked down at his clenched fists. “I dunno. I left the whore out cold. She threw up all over me. I had to go home and change my whole fucking outfit.”
“Vell vhat are you going to do about it?”
“Kill the bitch?” Tido tested, pulling out his gun.
Ruth’s gaze remained calmly on the madam. “Take the gun from him,” she ordered.
Tido looked bemusedly at Ruth. “You giving orders now, ho?” He cocked the hammer of his gun.
“Give me zee gun,” Mustav said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice.
Tido turned the gun over in his hand, unsure of what to do next. “Uh, you wanna kill her instead?”
“Zee gun,” Mustav repeated putting out her hand. Tido fidgeted on the spot, grimaced and then begrudgingly handed the gun to Mustav. Ruth could see that he was disappointed that he wasn’t going to be able to kill her himself. She made a sarcastically sympathetic face at him. After a second of what looked like disbelief, Tido’s expression contorted into pure rage. “You think that’s funny bitch? You won’t think nothin’s funny when I finish...”
“Shoot him please,” Ruth said casually.
The corner of Tido’s mouth curled into a nasty smile. It looked as though he was about to break into laughter when Mustav lifted the gun and promptly shot him in the forehead, spraying his brains onto the wall behind.
All Mustav could do was stare, stunned, as Tido lay at her feet in an increasing pool of his own blood.
Ruth sucked in short, sharp gasps of air as she too stared at the mess that was now Tido. Until a few days ago, she’d never seen a dead body, let alone someone die in front of her. Now she’d witnessed two grisly deaths and it wasn’t getting any easier. The sound of the gunshot echoed in her ears.
“Now give me the gun and listen quietly to what I have to say,” Ruth said, after a moment of composure. She held out her shaking hand. Mustav placed the gun politely in Ruth’s palm.
“Thank you. Now, as I was saying, I’m the new Human Resources manager for GlobalCore and I’ve come here to discuss some concerns I have with your management style.”
This is just business, business as usual. Ruth tried to calm herself and ignore the rusty smell of blood filling the room.
“Now we haven’t had any formal complaints but from what I have observed today, there appears to be a culture of bullying in this workplace.”
Mustav’s eyes were now fixed on Ruth’s. They smouldered with rage but she stood still and silent.
“I’ll give you a chance to defend yourself against this serious accusation of course,” Ruth said, brushing a shard of Tido’s skull from her blood-speckled shoulder. “Are you a bully, Ms Mustav?”
Suddenly Mustav found she had full control of her mouth again. “I’ll have you tortured, beaten and zen tortured again before I personally cut your throat you–”
“That’s enough,” Ruth interrupted. “That’s exactly the behaviour I am talking about.”
She walked over and opened the office door. “Now call another line up and get rid of your men, without raising any suspicions. I’d like to discuss the culture here with your female staff. You can take the opportunity to explain the sexual harassment policy we’ll be implementing soon.”
Mustav’s expression looked strained as though she were trying to stop herself from moving towards the office door. “Girls!” she called into the hallway. “Line up now.”
The man with the dark glasses stepped into the hallway and looked at Mustav. “Riz, I vant all of the girls, engaged or not. Line zem up and zen go out and get some more coke. Tido is looking after security tonight.” Riz nodded and left to follow his orders.
Ten minutes later Ruth entered the lounge with the gun in her hand and a stiff looking Mustav following behind. “Good evening girls,” Ruth began. “I’m with HR and you’ve been called to this meeting because I want you to participate in an open and irreproachable dialogue with your boss here.”
The murmurs in the room fell silent. The detached confidence of the women in the earlier line up was gone. They now looked confused and frightened.
Ruth continued, “As you all know, your boss here hasn’t been treating you in the professional and respectful manner that you deserve. I am here today to facilitate a safe and constructive conversation about that, and to help Ms Mustav, understand how she could have done things better.”
Ruth patronisingly patted Mustav on the shoulder. The women perched on the sofa held their breath, waiting for Mustav’s vicious response.
“Now I need you to understand that this is a safe place to express your concerns. There will be no ramifications for being honest here. Allow me to demonstrate.”
With that, Ruth turned and slapped Mustav as hard as she could across the face. Mustav hung limply for a second and then straightened up again, her face contorted but lifeless. Every jaw in the room fell agape. One of the women cried out as though she’d been slapped herself.
Ruth casually rifled inside Mustav’s jacket breast pocket and retrieved a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. “If you wouldn’t mind holding this for me.” Ruth gave the gun to the nearest prostitute who accepted it apprehensively. She then took out a cigarette and lit it between her teeth.
“So, does anyone have anything they would like to share with their boss?” she asked, exhaling a cloud of smoke into Mustav’s face. The girls sat frozen, staring at Ruth like deer in headlights. No one dared to make eye contact with Mustav.
“I’ll go first then shall I? Ms Mustav, when you threatened to torture and kill me earlier, it made me feel uncomfortable and undervalued. What have you got to say about that?”
Mustav’s body remained rigid but her facial features jumped to life. “Zis bitch has done somzing to me,” she screamed in response. “Girls, go and get Riz, Tido is dead. Somebody call Riz!”
No one moved. No one made a sound. The women just stared with wide fearful eyes.
“Don’t just stand zhere you useless whores! After all I’ve done for you. You vould all be dead if it veren’t for me!”
A scattering of whispers broke out amongst the women. A few doe eyes in the crowd narrowed into angry slits. A woman in a lime green bikini finally gathered the courage and spoke up. “I vouldn’t be dead, I vould be living vith my family!” she yelled.
“Yeah,” another woman chimed in. “I’m dead because of you. You’ve taken everything from me. Everything!” She began to sob as she screamed at Mustav.
“I hate you! I fucking hate you!” another woman screamed as she broke out of the pack and spat in Mustav’s face.
The room fell into silence once again as the women waited for Mustav to take revenge. She didn’t even wipe the spit from her seething, hate-filled eyes. This was like a red rag to a herd of bulls. As Mustav hurled more abuse, the exploited women closed in on her, screaming their sorry stories of loss and shame, spitting then slapping and then kicking and punching. Mustav’s torrent of abuse turned to wails of pain.
“Consider that your exit interview,” Ruth called to Mustav over the increasing din of the room. “Your services at GlobalCore are no longer required. You are fired.”
Ruth strutted past the animalistic frenzy and exited through the camouflaged door, which led out into a dark, narrow alley. There had been an unseasonal light rain and the street was slick with dirty urban water. Ruth looked up at the huge buttery moon and sighed with relief. “I did it Gran,” she whispered to the sky. “I hope I made you proud.”
A car engine turned and headlights illuminated the alley. Ruth took a final drag of her stolen cigarette before throwing it onto a puddle. She walked towards the car, shielding her eyes from the bright headlights. Opening the back door, she slid inside.
“Home Vince.”
“Yes, Ms Wroth.”