No Place of Refuge Page 28

  On the other hand, no one had confiscated them for forensic analysis. When she was asked to state her business, she wiped a sticky strand of hair from her forehead and said, ‘I’m inquiring about Audrey Clare, a Canadian citizen who is missing in Greece. I’d like to know who she met with at Europol. It would help us in our search.’

  The man with white-blond hair and nearly transparent eyes nodded once. He left the room, taking Sehr’s purse and computer, and shutting the door behind him.

  She glanced around the room. It was the kind of office that might be loaned to visiting colleagues, bland and impersonal with its metal filing cabinets and sleek glass desk. Her mind was sorting through her memories of Europol’s mandate. It was clearly distinct from Interpol’s, yet there was a leather note case on the desk bearing the Interpol logo.

  She picked up the case and opened it. A pad of lined paper was covered with writing in French. Sehr’s French was adequate; she made a quick survey of the page, frowning when she caught sight of Audrey Clare’s name followed by the words trafiquants d’être humains. She was startled to see her own name linked with Esa’s.

  She didn’t have her phone to photograph the page, but if she acted quickly, she could rip out the page and take it, assuming she wasn’t detained.

  She didn’t have long to think it over. She’d just raised her hand to tear out the sheet when the door opened and a woman’s voice said, ‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’

  Slowly, Sehr turned around. She recognized the woman because they had met in Athens, after the murders on Lesvos. She was the French liaison with Interpol.

  Her name was Amélie Roux.

  ‘So you found me,’ Roux said. She took the seat across from Sehr. Confused, Sehr said, ‘Weren’t you just in Turkey with Inspector Khattak?’

  ‘He mentioned you were heading to Delft, so I knew you were getting close.’

  ‘Close to what?’ Sehr knew better than to mention CIJA until the other woman confirmed her suspicions. Was it Inspecteur Roux who’d gotten Audrey involved as a courier for CIJA? But war crimes didn’t fall under Europol’s mandate. Europol was the EU’s criminal intelligence agency. So what had brought Audrey here? Had she come to meet Inspecteur Roux?

  ‘You’re not investigating Agent Bertin’s murder, are you?’

  ‘On the contrary, I assure you I am. Agent Bertin was a member of a Europol Joint Investigations Team – she involved me because she used to work for me.’

  That didn’t clear anything up for Sehr. ‘Why is Interpol involved?’

  ‘Because Europol is a criminal intelligence agency that does not operate outside of Europe, and Turkey is not a member of the European Union, despite existing cooperation agreements.’

  Sehr was lost, trying to put the pieces together. ‘Do you think Audrey killed your friend? Is that your connection to this case?’

  ‘No, mademoiselle. You completely misunderstand. Audrey Clare came to us. She asked us for our help. We would have found our way to Lesvos eventually because it was tangential to our investigation.’

  Sehr puzzled this through. Knowing she shouldn’t be the first to put it in words, she did anyway. ‘Did Audrey ask you to assist her in getting proof of war crimes to CIJA? Were you waiting for a courier in Apaydin?’

  ‘What? No.’ Roux gave an impatient toss of her head. ‘This isn’t about war crimes. Europol has nothing to do with the Turkey-Syria border.’

  Sehr stared at the other woman. ‘Then why did Audrey come to see you?’

  ‘It’s very simple, mademoiselle. She came because of Israa.’

  The uniformed guard knocked on the door. He was carrying a tray of coffee that he set down on the table. A thousand questions crowded Sehr’s mind. It was evident now that Roux was investigating more than the death of her colleague. Her presence at Europol confirmed this. Her knowledge of Audrey’s activities was proof of the same. But she seemed to be suggesting a different track than the one Esa and Sehr had pursued. She wondered if they’d finally reached the point where Roux would tell them the truth. She ventured a tentative question.

  ‘Are you saying Audrey wasn’t acting as a courier for CIJA? I’ve seen the documents myself.’

  Roux was unflustered by Sehr’s keen appraisal. ‘I know you have. That’s why I’m here. We’ve worked at cross-purposes too long.’

  Sehr choked back a protest at the injustice of this remark. It was Amélie Roux who had kept them in the dark, Roux who could have put them on the right track from the start. Guessing at her thoughts, Roux said, ‘I had no reason to trust a costly and sensitive operation to your discretion. I didn’t know you, I didn’t know what your government’s role was, or where your loyalties lay. So I waited to see what you would do.’

  Sehr sat back in her chair, making her face a blank. ‘And now? Did something change your mind? Is that why you came here to meet me?’

  Roux tipped her head to one side. ‘You left me no choice. I couldn’t have you blundering into the path of our operation. You’ve learned all you can on your own. It’s time we worked together.’

  Sehr understood the nuances Roux chose not to make explicit. By surrendering the documents in Audrey’s locker to CIJA, she and Esa had proven themselves to Roux. Their loyalty to Audrey hadn’t served as an excuse to obstruct justice.

  Getting to the point, Sehr said, ‘You said this was about Israa. Was Israa the courier? Was she Audrey’s contact?’

  Roux looked at her with a faintly pitying expression. ‘Audrey never met Israa. Nor did she disclose anything beyond what was necessary about her work with CIJA. She assisted their courier, nothing more. But in the course of that work, she came to realize she was hearing stories about disappearances.’

  Sehr nodded. ‘As a function of Syria’s prison system.’

  Inspecteur Roux offered Sehr an espresso, taking a long sip of hers. Her fingers tapped impatiently on the table.

  ‘No, mademoiselle. I refer to disappearances along the refugee route. Unaccompanied minors are missing from the route – we suspect in the thousands. You haven’t read the report Europol released in January?’

  Dumbfounded, Sehr shook her head. ‘But then – are you talking about human trafficking? Is that why Audrey came to you?’

  ‘Yes,’ Roux said. ‘I told you. She came about the girl, Israa.’

  ‘I thought Israa drowned at sea.’

  ‘Not true, mademoiselle. Miss Clare paid a great deal of money to find out what happened to the girl. Israa didn’t drown – she was kidnapped.’

  ‘Audrey told you this?’

  ‘She didn’t need to. The Joint Investigations Team has been investigating traffickers for years. Agent Bertin’s team was composed of members of different EU nations – law enforcement, prosecutors, judges. I’m involved because France is the lead nation coordinating the operation. Agent Bertin’s team accumulated substantial evidence that unaccompanied children were falling prey to exploitation. Criminal gangs have taken advantage of the refugee flow. I did try to suggest as much to your colleagues in Izmir.’ She broke off to mull this over, managing to convey her disappointment. ‘The efforts of these gangs have intensified in the past eighteen months. They’re cooperating with each other: there are those who smuggle refugees into Europe, and those who exploit the vulnerable for slavery or sex or both. Israa was held back from her boat in Turkey. Aya was luckier than her sister.’

  Sehr sipped her coffee, gripped by Roux’s revelations. She listened as Roux laid out the JIT’s case. The number of unaccompanied minors had been estimated at 27 percent of the previous year’s arrivals in Europe. Of the staggering number of 270,000 children in transit, Europol had conservatively estimated that 10,000 children were unaccounted for.

  ‘Children have gone missing in Italy, Sweden, and the UK. But a disproportionate number of minors are missing from the Turkish coast. If they’re snatched befor
e they’re registered in Europe, they simply disappear. If they register a destination such as the UK and don’t arrive, there’s no way to track where they’ve ended up. We don’t have the systems in place, we don’t have personnel or resources.’

  Of all the terrible permutations of the refugee crisis, this was one Sehr hadn’t considered. She’d been distracted by the discovery of the documents in Delft. But Audrey had begun in Izmir – her thoughts cleared in an instant.

  ‘The counterfeit life jackets made Audrey think about the factories. From the news reports on the police operation, she knew Syrian children had been conscripted to work there – is that when she began to suspect the smugglers had widened their operations? She thought they were targeting children?’

  Inspecteur Roux looked at her with satisfaction. ‘You’re very bright. From her inquiries, Audrey learned of other disappearances. So she began to track them.’

  ‘Is Israa lost, then?’

  Her face hardening, Roux said, ‘There is a massive team working on this. Israa is not irrecoverable. Neither are the others.’

  Sehr tried another tack. ‘So you don’t think Audrey vanished out of choice?’

  ‘I think she was taken as a means of silencing her.’

  ‘And killed?’ Sehr asked. ‘Or trafficked?’

  Roux’s response was frank. ‘Audrey called to tell us she was on the cusp of confirming the identity of the ringleaders of the gang operating in Greece and Turkey. She was afraid to share her suspicions without proof, so we sent Agent Bertin to assist her. Agent Bertin knew the full parameters of the JIT operation in Europe; we knew she’d be able to connect the dots in Greece. Whatever else Audrey was in the middle of, she made it back to Lesvos for that meeting. She prioritized it. It’s evident someone found out about that meeting, someone with a reason to prevent it. It’s possible they killed Audrey, but if her body had been found with the others, this would be a different investigation. Your government’s involvement would put a spotlight on the traffickers.’ She sighed. ‘Disappearing Audrey was safer than leaving her body to be found.’

  Roux’s purpose on Lesvos was becoming clear to Sehr. ‘You’re not looking for Audrey. You’re looking for the leaders of the ring.’

  ‘Bon,’ Roux said. ‘That has been the focus of Agent Bertin’s work since the beginning of the refugee crisis; we are not about to abandon it. And now you know enough to help us.’

  Sehr swallowed the urge to scream. So much time had been wasted in the search for Audrey because of a Europol investigation they’d known nothing about. She didn’t intend to waste another minute.

  ‘Why did Audrey go to Calais? Why the trip to Brussels?’

  ‘She was tracking the smuggling route, confirming her suspicions to herself. Children from the Calais Jungle are also unaccounted for. But Brussels, mademoiselle, don’t you know what took her to Brussels?’

  Sehr bristled at the censure. She’d pieced together as much as she had in the face of Roux’s calculated silence.

  ‘I don’t know and I don’t want to guess.’

  Roux’s tight smile acknowledged Sehr’s anger. She handed over Sehr’s bag. ‘Missing Children Europe is the organization that highlights these issues: their headquarters is in Brussels. Audrey went to Brussels so she could sound the alarm. Missing Children referred her to me. That’s how this all began.’

  38

  Mytilene, Lesvos

  Showered and resting from the detour of the past two days, Rachel was at the Sirena guesthouse. Sehr had called her from Amsterdam to pass on a long list of facts that made Rachel curl up her hands, her nails biting into her palms. Sehr was furious at Roux. Rachel tried not to be distracted by a similar sense of outrage. What a waste of time it had been. Roux hadn’t needed to accompany them to Apaydin because she’d been ahead of them. She’d known the reason for Audrey’s visit to Apaydin – she’d had an outline to work with.

  Rachel sat down with her notebook and a pencil whose eraser she’d chewed off, working out what they now knew about Audrey’s activities. Audrey had been working on two parallel tracks, tracks that didn’t overlap, as far as Rachel could tell. Of greatest importance: she’d been assisting Ali – or Sami, as she must now remember to call him – with his search for Israa. Sami was the key to Audrey’s actions. Everything Audrey had done sprang from her relationship with Sami. Sami was the one who’d directed her course, who’d driven her actions forward. He’d trusted her to help him find Israa, he’d trusted her to aid his precarious work as a courier. But Audrey had trusted no one, crushed by her responsibilities and by the weight of her secrets.

  She’d tried to help a boy she’d grown to care for, only to find herself floundering in the depths, swept up by dangerous currents.

  She could have told Nate why she’d needed more money, but she must have been afraid of tipping someone off; she’d kept her network closed because she’d gotten in over her head. She could have asked for help, she should have asked for help. But maybe she was more like Ruksh than Rachel had guessed, determined to prove something to her brother.

  Either of the tracks Sami had persuaded her to pursue could be the reason for the murders and her disappearance.

  Ali might have been the target; Aude Bertin would have been in the way.

  Or Agent Bertin had been the target, and Ali had been a collateral kill – in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Rachel thought she knew which scenario was more likely. If a defector had escaped Apaydin, he wouldn’t have lingered on Lesvos. He would have moved on to the European continent and disappeared.

  The first time she’d visited Moria, Rachel had overheard the conversation of a pair of volunteers. What they’d said tracked with the information Sehr had just supplied.

  They’d warned the Afghan father not to leave his daughters unattended. Boiled down to its essence, they’d warned him against bad men.

  Rachel had assumed they’d meant residents of the camp.

  But Sehr had said traffickers were picking off kids from both sides of the crossing. So the unaccompanied minors in the camps on Lesvos and Chios were vulnerable.

  But who could pass in and out of the camps without drawing attention to their actions? She considered the possibilities. Volunteers who worked for the various NGOs. Members of the militant group Golden Dawn, who’d raided the Souda camp. The men who’d been watching Khattak from their table at the fish restaurant. The Greeks who ran the guesthouses near the camps.

  Rachel remembered something. The proprietor of the hotel she’d stayed at on Chios – Nikos Papadakis – had approached the camp after the Golden Dawn raid. He’d made a list of names, offering rooms to women and children.

  A benevolent gesture, or a means of marking off targets?

  She should get back to Chios and check if there were new reports of missing persons. There had to be a way for her to confirm who was involved. If Audrey had inadvertently stumbled onto an answer, Rachel would get there faster. Her thoughts raced back through her encounters on the islands, through bits of information she’d gleaned first-hand or through peripheral knowledge – faces, places, dates, leaping from point to point, searching for correlations.

  She found them.

  Her face and her neck flushed red. She snapped her pencil in half. She had to find the volunteers at Moria. Because they’d spoken of a witness.

  Of a girl who’d escaped.

  She’d made another assumption, thinking the volunteers had been speaking of a sexual assault. What if they hadn’t been? What if they’d meant a kidnapping?

  What if the same van had been used? And the witness had seen the van?

  She shoved her chair back from the table, making for the door.

  Just as she reached for the handle, Nate entered the lobby. He looked relieved to see her, a smile breaking over his face. She could see from the shattered look in his eyes that he was
losing hope – the search was getting to him.

  Rachel swallowed hard. She didn’t want to tell him what she’d learned. Whatever he was fearing, his fears would be amplified to the point of terror. She couldn’t hurt him like that.

  ‘You’ve found something?’ He seemed to read the tension in her face. ‘Have a drink with me?’

  He didn’t need to look for his host. At his entry, the manager brought over two glasses of beer on a tray covered by a doily. It was a simple place, but the manager had done his best to echo Nate’s air of careless prestige. He set the tray down at a table in the lounge area, and told them to ring if they wanted anything more.

  ‘I was about to check out a lead.’

  ‘On Audrey?’

  She nodded. He tugged her over to a sofa. Rachel took a seat with some reluctance, picking up her glass and cradling it in her hand.

  ‘Tell me,’ he said. ‘This waiting is worse than anything.’

  Rachel took a fortifying sip of her drink. In a low tone, she sketched out what she knew of Audrey’s role acting as a courier for CIJA. Then she hurried over Sehr’s discoveries at Europol. Nate took the news badly.

  He rubbed his eyes with his fists. Then he grasped Rachel’s shoulders, forcing her to face him.

  ‘How long have you known this? How long has Esa?’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ Rachel said.

  The quiet words defused his anger. He released his bruising grip with an apology. When he looked at her again, his eyes were wet with tears.