It was late at night. Somewhere on the other side of the city, police sirens wailed through the usual noises of the city. Betty Rhodes parked her auto in front of the abandoned warehouse. The 28-year old reporter pulled her coat closer around her as she got out of the auto. She buried her face in the coat’s lining as a gust of wind blew over her.
Leaning against the door of the car, Betty checked her wristwatch. She was a few minutes early. The young woman reached into her purse and fumbled around inside it. Her hand brushed against the bulk of the tape recorder and, deeper down, the reassuring cool touch of the small revolver hidden inside.
After a moment, her searching fingers found the cardboard carton of cigarettes. She pulled out one and stuck it in her mouth. Another minute was sent digging out the small, brass lighter. She closed her eyes as she lit the end of her cigarette, to avoid being blinded in the darkness.
Before she’d taken more than a couple puffs of the cigarette, there came a flash of light from one of the broken windows of the factory. It blinked once, twice, three times. Smiling nervously, Betty dropped the cigarette onto the dirty asphalt and ground it out under her heel. She tugged the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder and walked towards the side door of the warehouse.
The door was unlocked, as she expected. Inside, the abandoned building was dark, save where some light trickled in through broken, boarded up windows. The gloom loomed over Betty as she stepped through, closing the door behind her, with a sharp squeal of rusty hinges. The warehouse was silent, save the tapping of her heels on the hard concrete floor and the soft panting of her breath.
The place chosen for the meeting was the old manager’s office, on the second floor. Betty crossed the empty warehouse, passing by abandoned crates, broken and covered in dust, to a cast-iron staircase, leading up to an office, overlooking the whole place.
A man was waiting for her. He glanced up as Betty opened the office door and stepped inside. “You come alone? You come unarmed?” The man said in a high, reedy voice. Betty couldn’t make out his features in the darkness, but the reporter was well aware that wasn’t a great loss. Joe the rat, as he was known on the streets had the ugly, scarred face even a mother couldn’t love.
But, the petty thief had his uses. There wasn’t a better source for information on the cities criminal element…for the right price. There was a flash of light as a match flared, and Betty caught a glimpse of a crooked, dirty smile as Joe lit a cigarette. “You bring the money?” He asked.
Betty nodded, reaching into her purse again. She paused, to turn on the recording device, before grabbing the roll of bills. Pulling it out, she tossed it to the thief, who caught it. Betty heard bills rustle as the man quickly counted the bribe.
“Alright…” he said, “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know who’s behind the disappearances of eight young women in the last week.” Betty replied.
“hmm…I’ve heard some talk. Bunch of out of town boys, from what I’ve heard. Showed up in the city three weeks ago. They’ve kept to themselves.”
“Do you know what they’ve done with the missing girls? Are they still alive?”
The glowing coal on the end of Joe’s cigarette bobbed as the man grinned. “The girls are still alive, and they’re still in the city, but not for long. I heard they’re planning on shipping the girls out…tonight.”
“Do you know where the crooks are?” Betty asked.
“Right behind you…”
Betty’s eyes widened in surprise. She started to turn but in that instant, the young woman was grabbed. A hand wrapped around her waist. Another clamped over Betty’s mouth, cutting off her frightened scream. Her hand went for the gun in her purse, but as it came out holding the revolver, another arm grabbed her wrist. She grunted into her hand gagging her as the large, strong hand squeezed, hurting her wrist until she dropped the gun. It clattered to the floor with a loud thud.
“Sorry about this, Ms. Rhodes. You’ve thrown a lot of dough my way over the years, but these gents pay me even more take care of you…” Joe said. Betty squirmed, grunting angrily. The burly men grabbing her had no trouble keeping hold of the slender reporter. One of the men pulled out a sap and lifted it up. Betty saw stares, then everything went black…

“ugh…” Betty groaned, as she started to come to. Her head was pounding like a drum where those goons had knocked her out. As she regained her senses, the young woman became aware of a few things. Firstly, she was curled up in the trunk of a moving automobile. Second, her hands and feet had been tightly lashed with rope. A length of cloth had been bound over her eyes, blinding her. A second length of cloth had been knotted in the middle. The knot was clenched between her teeth, the ends tied off behind her head, gagging the young woman. Finally, whoever had done this to her had also seen fit to strip Betty down to her underwear.
Betty grunted angrily into her gag as she squirmed in the tight confines of the trunk. Damn that Joe! When she got out of this mess, she’d track him down and wring his worthless neck! That was, assuming, of course, she managed to get out of here… Betty whimpered as a wave of fear washed over her. She wondered what her captors had planned for her. She doubted it would be good…
Suddenly, the auto came to a halt. She heard the occupants get out. A moment later, the trunk was opened. Betty shivered as the cold night air blew over her half-naked body. “Come on, let’s get her inside, quick…” she heard a voice say. Her legs were grabbed and the ropes binding them were cut.
She squirmed as hands grabbed her and lifted her out of the trunk. A second later, she was set down, on shaky legs. “Come on, toots…” The voice said again. “We’re going to walk over here…” He added to this by shoving the helpless woman forward.
Betty stumbled forward on her heels, guided by the rough shoves of her captors, as she was led into a nearby building. As they stepped through the door, Betty heard excited chatter nearby. There was a large crowd of men on the other side of a door. “We’ve got some friends. We’re sure they’re going to love meeting you…” The gangster said, placing a hand on Betty’s shoulder.
The tone of the chatter changed, as Betty was ushered into the room. Most of it was too low to make out, but the young woman was certain they were discussing her. The young woman was led up onto a small, raised platform, standing in front of the crowd of men. She trembled with fear, aware of countless, unseen eyes running up and down her shamefully exposed body.
“Gentleman…” a voice said, cutting through the hushed chatter. “Thank you for your patience. We have one final item for sale tonight. Ms. Betty Rhodes, age 28. ‘acquired’ only a few hours ago.” Betty whimpered into her gag in fear. “What am I bid for this young lady…”