I know Jacobi.
And when he walked into the apartment that morning, I couldn’t read his expression at all.
We went to the kitchen island, and immediately Joe said, “I’ll be right back. I’ll just run Martha down to the corner.”
It took him longer to get back than I expected, and when he returned, Jacobi and I were well into the coffee and cake. After Joe helped himself, Jacobi gave us the reason for his visit.
He said, “After I sent you all home, Marko Vladic was picked up for that broken headlight. The patrolmen were sharp. Saw that there was a BOLO out for him, as a suspect in a kidnapping, and brought him in. First thing out of Vladic’s mouth was, ‘I want a deal.’”
I said, “Oh, really. What was the offer?”
“He said he knew where Anna and Susan were and he’d reveal that location in exchange for immunity. I told him, ‘I want the women first, and after that, we’ll talk to the DA. ASAP.’ He said he didn’t know if they’d live much longer.”
I felt my heart seize up.
Joe said, “Jesus Christ,” and put his head in his hands.
Jacobi said, “I know, I know,” and then he went on.
“I told Vladic, okay, I’d give him a deal in writing. He had to give the women to us now, and I wanted evidence and testimony that Petrović killed Myers and Saran. He agreed to giving up the women. That shit told me, ‘I’ll give you those bitches, but I’m not going to say a word against Tony.’”
I said, “Crap. And you said?”
“I said okay.”
“I don’t understand,” said Joe.
“I said okay, release the women to me, and I’ll go to work for you. I wrote it down for him,” Jacobi said. “I made it good. I swore on the authority vested in me by the state of California that I would negotiate on his behalf with the district attorney and the governor and the Federal Bureau of Investigation in exchange for his cooperation. I got Chi to type it up on my letterhead, and I signed it with a flourish. Chi witnessed it, and I had Vladic sign and date it, too.
“Then that little turd says to me, ‘This doesn’t seem airtight.’
“I say, ‘Chi. You’re a notary, right?’ He starts to fumble it, says, ‘I don’t know where my stamp is.’ As soon as he says that, he remembers. Brenda has one of those old notary public stamps she uses as a paperweight.”
“I’ve seen it,” I said. “Weighs about three pounds. You push down on the handle and it crimps the paper. Makes a seal.”
“Exactly. Chi gets it from Brenda’s desk, signs his name, crimps the deal sheet, and pronounces it as good as gold. It’s a seal for the DMV circa 1939, but never mind. I make a copy, wave the original at Vladic, and tell him he gets the waiver when the two women are in our custody.”
I said, “Jacobi. For God’s sake. Did he give them up?”
“Yes, my friends, he did. I called fire and rescue, and those guys chopped a big hole in the stage at Skin and pulled those poor women out from the secret compartment.”
Joe shouted, “We’ve got them? They’re alive?”
“They’re at Metro Hospital. Banged up and I’m going to say traumatized, but we have them. Susan and Anna are alive.”
CHAPTER 109
The lighting in the glass stalls lining the ICU was purposely dim, and the patients in their adjustable beds were completely still.
The on-duty nurse told us, “She just had surgery a few hours ago. She’s doing as well as can be expected, after the internal bleeding, but she’s heavily medicated and may not know that you’re there. Only one of you can be in her room at a time.”
Joe said, “If she speaks, we both have to be there. It’s police business.”
The nurse shook her head disapprovingly, then, “You’ve got five minutes. Do not stress her out.”
She led us to one of the stalls and slid open the glass door. I said, “Joe, she knows you. You go. I’ll wait here.”
“Okay,” he said.
I stood just outside the narrow room and looked in at Anna Sotovina. Her eyes were closed. Her head had been shaved. Innumerable tubes were going into her arms and under the blanket, and electrodes and wires transmitted to monitors that recorded her vital signs.
The scar on Anna’s face highlighted what a courageous and indomitable person she was. A fighter. A survivor.
I’d been so worried that seeing her alive filled me with a wave of relief and something like love.
She’d been kicked in the gut, suffered a concussion and internal bleeding, with six broken ribs, but she was going to make it. And all of my fear and worry had been worth it.
I reached out with both hands and touched the glass.
We did it, Anna. We got you out.
Tears came up and I clapped my hands over my eyes. When the feeling subsided, I looked at Anna, her arms stuck with needles, and I thought how good it was that she was not in pain.
Joe sat down next to Anna’s bed. He was speaking, but I couldn’t hear his words, and it looked to me as though Anna couldn’t hear him, either. He put his hand around her wrist. I thought he was preparing to say good-bye. And then her eyes opened. She turned to Joe and reached up for him with one arm.
He bent to her and hugged her very gently.
I was surprised to see this affection between them, and I have to admit to feeling a twinge of possessiveness. But I understood. She’d been through hell. He cared about her. He sat back down, all the while keeping his hand around her wrist.
Anna was speaking to Joe. She’d been speaking for more than a few minutes, slowly, deliberately, checking with her eyes to see if she’d been understood. I read her lips when she said, “I’m sorry. Thank you, Joe.”
He said something to her, then turned to where I was clinging to the glass wall and pointed to me. Anna’s face brightened with recognition.
She said, “Thank you, Lindsay,” or at least that’s how it seemed to me. Tears jumped out of my eyes then and I couldn’t hold them back. This was Anna Sotovina’s lucky day, and it was pretty great for me, too.
I thought I might go in and speak to her, when the nurse stepped past me and knocked on the glass door.
She said to Joe, “I’m sorry. Our patient needs to rest.”
Joe stood up and said, “I’ll be back tomorrow, Anna. Get some sleep.”
I waved good-bye, and then I could barely wait for us to get into the elevator.
“How did she seem to you?” I asked my husband.
He took my hand, squeezed it.
“She was barely conscious, under the influence of pain meds, and probably confused. She remembers what she went through inside the house on Pine, but those memories have been fused with older memories. She mentioned the hotel in Djoba. She doesn’t want to talk about any of it. Especially not Petrović.”
But we need her to tell us about Petrović. We need her testimony.
Joe knew quite well what I was thinking.
“I’m not going to push her,” he said. “Anna said she’ll only talk to the International Criminal Court.”
“But that’s the court that freed Petrović. They made a deal with him.”