The Lonely Mile(70)
Miller frowned. “You might be surprised,” he said. “According to our own statistics compiled by the U.S. State Department, between six and eight hundred thousand people are trafficked against their will each year across international borders. Of that number, seventy percent are female, and as many as half are children. And the majority of these victims are forced into the commercial sex trade.”
Bill stared at the young FBI agent in horror. “That’s unbelievable.”
“Believe it,” Miller said simply. “Worldwide, human trafficking is the third most profitable criminal activity, behind only the drug trade and arms trafficking, with an estimated seven billion dollars in profits earned annually.”
“But right here? In the United States?”
“Oh, yes,” Miller answered. “We’re not unaffected. Much of the trafficking occurs in developing nations, where few if any barriers to the practice exist. But American girls are prized in certain parts of the world, particularly blonde, fair-skinned ones. Virgins are even more valuable. Spiriting them out of the country is the most difficult part of the process, but once they’re outside our borders, it’s almost impossible to get them back.”
“Why?” Bill asked, sickened by what he was hearing.
“Worldwide,” Miller answered, “a three-tier system has been developed to determine which countries are doing the most—as well as the least—to put an end to this practice. In the most recent report, issued by the U.S. Department of State in 2009, seventeen nations worldwide have been identified as ‘third tier’ states, meaning they take virtually no action to combat the practice of human trafficking. Some of those include Saudi Arabia, where we theorize Carli was headed, as well as Kuwait, Cuba, Syria, North Korea, and others.”
“Wait a minute. Back up for just a second.” Bill could feel his blood begin to boil. “Kuwait and Saudi Arabia? Those are countries American soldiers have fought and died to protect. Are you telling me my child was headed to Saudi Arabia to be some sheik’s sex slave?”
“We believe so,” Miller answered quietly. “And you won’t get any argument from me about it being against everything we stand for, or at least, everything we should stand for. But the real risk for the traffickers in an operation such as this is in smuggling the girls out of this country. Once that happens, the issue becomes a diplomatic one, rather than a law enforcement one, mostly due to the cultural barriers between societies.”
Special Agent Mike Miller scuffed his shoe on the grey and white tiles of the hospital floor. “Canfield knew all these statistics as well as I do. Maybe better. I don’t understand how she could have been a part of any of this.”
“Canfield was irreparably broken,” Bill said. “And she alluded to what she called ‘an early retirement from the FBI’ when she was trying to justify her actions as she held a gun on me. Just how much money do you think she was making on these slave trades?”
Miller shrugged. “We have a team of specialists going over her banking records, so we should have pretty specific numbers available shortly, but, if I had to guess, I would say she alone was netting well over sixty thousand dollars for every girl she helped smuggle out of the country.”
Bill whistled, doing the math quickly in his head. “She told me she found Krall and turned him after his first couple of kidnappings and murders. That means she was involved in ten successful cases. If she made anything close to what you think, that’s well over a half-million dollars!”
Miller nodded. “And tax-free, too.”
“Between the damage done to her as a child by her mother’s boyfriend and the lure of all that cash, maybe it’s not too terribly surprising how she turned out. What about Krall? Do you think he was making the same kind of money per transaction as Canfield?”
“I doubt it,” Miller answered. “His motivations weren’t strictly, or even mostly, monetary. This is a guy who was sexually assaulting and murdering young women before he was co-opted by Angela—uh, excuse me, by Agent Canfield. We’re combing his bank records and personal information, too, as we speak, but my guess is he earned just a small fraction of the money being paid to Canfield. The lure for him was the opportunity to get his rocks off with a different girl every couple of months, and then be rid of her in a way that virtually eliminated all risk—the evidence was out of the country and on its way to the Middle East. And to top it off, his partner was the agent in charge of the investigation and the search for ‘The I-90 Killer.’”
“Obviously why Krall got away with it for so long,” Bill said.
“That’s right. By the way,” Miller continued, “I spoke to the doctors. I know they shouldn’t have told me anything, but they did. Perk of the job, I guess. I understand Carli wasn’t…” He looked at Bill uncomfortably.
“No,” Bill said. “She wasn’t raped. Somehow, she managed to escape the fate that the other victims suffered. I guess the sick bastard’s libido was dampened a bit when she sliced his arm to the bone like a Thanksgiving turkey. But I’m pretty sure he was about to get down to business when I walked in on him.”
“She’s one strong young lady,” Miller said. “A hero. You must be proud of her.”
“You have no idea,” Bill agreed. “I always knew she was special, but even I didn’t realize exactly how special.” A companionable silence descended on the hospital room. Outside, Bill could hear nurses, doctors, and family members walking the halls. He wanted to see Carli but felt the pull of exhaustion and pain medication dragging him toward a deep sleep.