Page 21 of Savage Reckoning

I pick my way through the piles of new clothing to give her a hug and take the baby from her. “And some. Can I help?”

“You’re already helping by taking baby Faith. Jenna will be back soon. She had to go supervise a brewery delivery at the pub, but she said she’d organise the catering, at least until Janey can get here from Stirling.”

Jenna is Tony’s girlfriend. She lives with him here at Caernbro Ghyll but runs her family’s pub in the city centre. Janey is a sort of trainee cook, a protégée of Ethan’s currently at catering college in Stirling. Putting her in charge of the kitchen is a good move.

“You’ve sent for Janey?” I jiggle the restless infant on my hip.

“Yes. Then, once we have them all fed and watered, and decently dressed, we can start on contacting the families. A few of the women speak English, but most don’t. I was hoping Cristina might be able to help, but obviously, with Ethan being so ill…”

“We need Arina.” One-handed, I wrestle my phone from my pocket.

“Arina?” Ruth lifts an eyebrow.

“Of course, you haven’t met her. She’s Rome’s…” I trail off. “Well, she’s with Rome. And she speaks Russian.”

“That sounds like just what we need. I was going to ask Rome to translate, but with all that’s happened to these women, I’d prefer to keep it to just females being around them if we can. They’re all pretty shaken up. Fragile.”

I can get behind that. I fire off a text to Arina. Can you come to Glasgow? Right now. Get one of the guards to organise a car. We have freed female prisoners here and need a Russian translator.

Her answer comes back almost immediately. On my way. Stefan arranged it. Be there in an hour.

Stefan? Ah, right, Arina never calls Rome by his usual nickname. I send a thumbs-up emoji and pocket my phone again.

Ruth is back to directing the deliverymen. “All of these need to be upstairs. Follow me.” She takes her baby back from me and with her spare hand picks up a carrier bag by her feet. She sets off up the main staircase, the men following carrying armfuls of ladies clothing.

She reminds me of the Pied Piper, but a bit more efficient. Comes of all that police training, I suppose, before she decided that she preferred to marry a villain rather than catch them. I pick up my medical bag and fall in behind.

The east corridor is bedlam. The women may have been allocated rooms, but they seem to have little or no inclination to stay in them. They have mainly congregated in one bedroom, perching on the beds, chairs, windowsills, anywhere they can find. The chatter of anxious voices reaches us, but mostly they speak in Russian, or that’s what I think it is. I can’t understand anything that’s being said.

The room falls silent when we arrive in the doorway.

Ruth marches straight in and sets baby Faith down on a rug, then returns to the door to relieve one of the men of a pile of blue denim. She dumps that next to Faith and picks up the top package. She opens it and shakes out a brand-new pair of Levi jeans which she hands to the woman closest to her. She continues to unwrap new designer jeans and distribute them, until the women get the idea and move to help her. An assortment of bright-coloured designer tops are passed around, tried on, approved, and claimed. The same with the underwear and eventually the shoes. Within about twenty minutes, they’ve been transformed from a woebegone bunch of half-naked waifs to seventeen smartly outfitted females.

I nod my approval at Ruth, who is already moving on to her next challenge.

“Can anyone speak English?” she calls above the general hubbub.

About half the women raise their hands.

“Who can translate?”

Four hands remain aloft.

“Right, then. I’m relying on you to make sure everyone understands what is happening.” She tips the contents of her carrier bag onto the bed. Six mobile phones tumble out. “These are for all of you to use to contact your families. Let them know you’re safe and will be home soon.” She pauses to allow for the translating.

As soon as the message is conveyed, a melee ensues when everyone tries to grab a phone. Chaos erupts but is short-lived as the phones are passed around, and eventually, everyone who appears to want to has phoned home. There are tears, laughing, and no shortage of heartfelt hugging.

The penny has finally dropped. This is real. This is what salvation looks like.

“You’re very good at this,” I whisper when Ruth picks up her baby and steps back, out of the throng.

“I had experience,” she mutters back, a reference to the fact that she was also held prisoner here once. “I remember what was important to me.”

“Do you know if anyone needs medical care?” I really should get started, now that some of the most pressing priorities are dealt with.

“No, there’s nothing obvious that I’ve seen. But you could use the box room at the end of this corridor as an examination room, and I’ll send the women along a few at a time.”

By the time I’ve set up my makeshift consulting room, Arina and her younger sister, Natalija, have arrived, which makes things generally easier. The next hour is spent briefly chatting to each of the women, Arina translating as required. I check vital signs and note down names and ages while Ruth establishes what she can about their wishes for the immediate future. No one is to be kept here any longer than necessary, and Ruth is already phoning round about chartering a private flight to Moldova. From there, the women can be helped to travel onward to other Eastern European states. The lack of travel documentation will be an issue but not insurmountable. Decent forgeries can be purchased quite readily, and for an ex-copper, Ruth is embracing that aspect of her task with no apparent discomfort.

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