Speak of the Devil by Allison Leotta Read Free Book Online Page B

common enough concern. “As a crime victim, she’s eligible for a U-visa, which would allow her to stay in the country legally while the case is pending, for up to four years. I can help her obtain that visa.”
    After Melendez translated, Tierra visibly relaxed. Anna started asking some easy basic questions, to get her in the rhythm of talking. Soon Tierra was speaking freely, or as freely as she could with the injuries on her face. McGee took notes as Melendez translated. Anna could understand a few Spanish phrases, but mostly had to rely on the officer’s translation.
    Tierra was born nineteen years ago in Guatemala. When she was five, her parents immigrated without papers to the United States to find work. For the first ten years, Tierra continued to live in Guatemala with an aunt. Finally, when she was fifteen, her parents sent for her. She made the difficult journey and reunited with parents she barely remembered. They were now living in a one-bedroom apartment in Northern Virginia.
    While Tierra had been in Guatemala, her parents had two more children. These younger children, American citizens, were the hope of the family. They had lived with their parents their whole lives, and their parents lavished attention on them. Tierra felt like an outsider from the moment she arrived.
    When she was seventeen, she left her family’s one-bedroom apartment and moved in with a boyfriend. When that relationship ended, she started moving from friend to friend, couch to couch, trying to find a way to support herself.
    At this point in her story, Tierra stopped talking and looked away.
    “How have you been supporting yourself?” Anna asked, keeping her expression open and nonjudgmental. She knew the answer, but she needed the young woman to be able to say it. Tierra bit her lip. “Please, just tell me the truth. I can help you if you’re truthful. I don’t prosecute anyone for prostitution. I prosecute people for sexual assault. The only trouble you’ll ever have from me is if you lie.”
    Tierra looked down at her hands. “I sold myself.”
    Tierra said she’d begun working at brothels a few months ago. She didn’t need papers, and the wages were in cash. She didn’t have a pimp. She found work easily enough, but didn’t have a steady clientele. The men who went to these brothels wanted new girls— carne fresca —every week. She’d built connections in the brothel circuit, and was able to move to a new brothel each week, changing brothels every Sunday.
    Anna knew the weekly movement was not just to satisfy johns’ desire for new faces—it also kept the women alienated, unable to build friends or allies in any location.
    “When did you arrive at the brothel on Monroe Street?” Anna asked.
    “Just yesterday morning,” the officer translated Tierra’s words. “Three more girls were supposed to come from New York, but their pimp called to say their car broke down. It was just the timekeeper, the doorman, and me. I handled as many dates as I could. Twenty-four. I was exhausted.” She was supposed to have made three hundred and sixty.
    “The man tied up on the couch,” Anna said. “Who was he?”
    “The timekeeper. His job is to kick out the johns after their fifteen minutes are up.”
    “And the one whose head—” Anna tried to say it without being gruesome. “Who was killed?”
    “The doorman.”
    “Tell me what was happening when the men arrived.”
    “Ricardo came, a little before closing time. The owner gets any girl he wants for free. I even took off my T-shirt for him. Normally, men have to pay five dollars extra for that. We were in the middle of it, when . . .” She trailed off.
    Anna prompted, “What happened?”
    “No.” Tierra began to shiver. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
    “Why not?”
    “Habla del Diablo, y él aparecerá,” Tierra whispered.
    “Speak of the Devil and he shall appear,” Melendez translated.
    Many witnesses were afraid that if they testified against their