Tall trees formed a dense canopy above, and tangled vegetation covered the ground below. Two shirtless men dug with shovels as sweat rolled off their bare backs and mosquitoes hovered around them. Three feet down they reached the body. The men set their shovels aside and cleared the earth with their hands. The corpse had begun to bloat beneath the pink polo top and blue jeans. The men searched in the soil, one on each side of the uncovered grave. The one at the feet exposed an inch of pink plastic near the girl’s legs. He stood up with the girl’s phone in his hands, brushed it with his fingers, then wiped it on his trousers. When they buried her, they had tossed her belongings in with her: phone, bag, and shoes.
The man wiped his face using his forearm, blinked sweat off his eyelids, and swatted at a mosquito that buzzed near his face. He turned the phone over in his hand and held the ‘on’ button with his thumb. The screen lit up. He waited till he could see the icons, then holding down the same button he switched the phone off again and put it into his pocket.
They began to cover up the body.
Malik leaned forward in the tall burgundy seat behind his desk. The leather upholstery squeaked. Two air conditioners hummed, keeping the large room at a constant 17 degrees. A closed, space-grey Apple laptop was the only item on the red leather surface of the wooden desk. Sisi, tall, and with gym-toned muscles and immobile breasts bought in Brazil, was standing next to Malik in a see-through black camisole and a pair of black short pants. On the other side, two middle-aged Russian men sat drinking coffee from teacups that looked small in their thick, bejewelled fingers. Both men had noses that had been broken more than once. They had gold chains under their white shirts, visible around their tanned necks. Behind them, standing in a row, twelve Ukrainians girls shifted from leg to leg, looked straight ahead at the people conversing at the desk, listening for words they could recognise.
‘How long do I have them for?’ Malik asked. His eyes moved from girl to girl, from face to feet and feet to face.
The man on the right held up three fingers. ‘Three weeks. Only three weeks. Then I come and I take them.’ His accent was thick.
‘And medicals?’
‘All certificates, I give already to Sisi.’
Malik looked at Sisi. She nodded.
‘Tell them to take off their clothes.’
The man turned and spoke in Russian. Some of the girls had already begun undressing.
‘I need something from you, Dmitry. Something special,’ Malik said.
‘Very young girl?’
‘No. A tranny. You know what that is?’
‘Da. Transvestite. Girl with…’ he signified a penis with his finger over his crotch.
‘Yes. Can you get one?’
‘One? I get you many. You tell me, I bring.’
‘Just one. He… She must look like a woman.’
‘They sexy even more than real woman.’
‘I want someone who looks young, good breasts, good body, voice like a girl. I want to see her pictures before you bring her.’
‘No problem. When you want tranny?’
‘As soon as possible.’
Someone knocked on the door behind the girls. They all looked. The door opened. Naomi, in a red bra, red pants, red high heels and black stockings with suspenders, entered the room. She walked through the middle of the girls. She had a brown envelope in her hand. She handed it to Malik.
Malik tore open the envelope and looked inside. He turned it over and a phone with a pink cover dropped onto his desk. He picked up the device between his thumb and index finger and turned it over, inspecting it closely, then looked up. Naomi was looking at the phone. ‘What?’ Malik said.
Naomi shook her head. ‘Nothing. Nothing is wrong.’
‘I didn’t ask you if anything is wrong.’
‘I’m sorry.’