by Anna Smith
‘Yeah. Was. Lot of bad things happened.’ He stared past Rosie into middle distance.
‘How long you been out?’
‘Two years. Invalided out in the end. Combat stress they call it.’ His eyes grew dark. ‘Lost a couple of good mates in Northern Ireland, then Bosnia on top of it just got to me.’ He sniffed. ‘That stuff changes you.’
Rosie gave him a sympathetic look, wondering why he was telling her all this. He looked lonely enough to talk to anyone.
‘Must have been tough. The thing is, a lot of that stress with soldiers just gets forgotten about. I read in the papers that a lot of soldiers just get ditched when they get out. Terrible that. After everything they’ve given.’
‘Too right,’ the big man said, shaking his head. ‘And after all that fighting and stuff, you end up working in a shitty job like this. Directing fucking traffic.’
Rosie let the silence hang a little. ‘So is this the area you work in all the time?’ She threw the line out in the hope he would grasp it.
‘Not all the time. It gets rotated. But I end up here a lot.’ He jerked his head in the direction of the buildings where the men had dropped their boxes off. ‘They keep animals and stuff in there for their experiments. And you’ve to watch this gate a lot, because we get them animal rights geezers turning up, trying to break in. A couple of them chained themselves to the railings last year. Daft, tree-hugging bastards.’
Rosie laughed. She was always amazed at how much information people just volunteered without thinking.
‘Yeah, a lot of them are nutters.’ She glanced at the buildings. ‘So what do they keep in there? Mice and rats?’
‘Yeah. But more than that. Monkeys. Chimps. But it’s mostly rabbits and rats. They test the drugs on them. Nobody gets to go inside. All top secret. But I heard they do all sorts of shit to the animals.’
‘Yeah,’ Rosie said. ‘It’s all very controversial stuff. No wonder it’s top secret. You ever been in there?’
‘Nah. It wouldn’t shock me though. I’ve seen a bit of shit in my day.’
‘I bet the papers would pay plenty for a picture inside that place.’ Rosie could feel Matt staring at her in disbelief.
The big man laughed. ‘Yeah, you’re not kidding. Don’t think me and the boys haven’t talked about it.’
His walkie-talkie buzzed, and gravelly voices could be heard. He put it to his mouth and spoke into it, saying he was on his way. ‘I need to go, mate.’ He looked almost reluctant. ‘But good talking to, you, I like the Jocks. Right. You know where you’re going now, don’t you?’
‘Yes, thanks for your help … er …?’ Rosie gave him an enquiring look.
‘Eddie,’ he said, stretching out a hand. ‘Used to be Lance Corporal Barnsley.’ He shrugged. ‘In another life.’
‘Great to meet you, Eddie. I’m Rosie. Thanks again for your help.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Good luck to you, Eddie.’
He let go of her hand and walked away, then after a few yards he turned around to face them and gave a half salute and a smile.
‘Christ,’ Matt said. ‘Quality control? You are some chancer, Gilmour. I’ll give you that. A Grade A chancer.’ He shook his head and opened the driver’s door. ‘Come on. Let’s GTF before he remembers he didn’t even ask for your ID.’
Rosie’s mobile rang as she opened the car door, and her eyes popped.
‘Emir?’
‘Rosie. It is Emir.’
He sounded breathless.
‘Christ man. Where are you? I’ve been looking for you for days.’
‘I had to run, Rosie. They came for me. Can I see you?’
‘Of course, Emir. I’m on my way up from England.’ She looked at her watch. It was already two in the afternoon. ‘I can meet you tonight. Same place as last time? Around seven?’
‘Okay. I be there.’ The line went dead.
CHAPTER 16
From the window of Starbucks, Rosie sat sipping a latte, her eyes darting all across the busy concourse at Central Station. She felt suspicious of anyone who so much as looked in her direction. The paranoia was beginning to kick in, and she’d been looking over her shoulder all the time as she’d walked up from the office for her meeting with Emir. They’d come for him, he’d told her on the phone. So it was a stick-on they were still looking for him.
The phone call from Don as she and Matt drove up from Manchester hadn’t helped. They’d found a corpse in a burnt-out car earlier in the morning, and they were almost certain it was Tam Logan. The charred remains were beyond recognition and they were checking dental records. But engraved jewellery taken from what was left of the body suggested it was Tam. The post-mortem was underway, Don told her, but the pathologist had given them an early heads-up that there was a bullet wound to the chest. Rosie felt a pang of sympathy as she remembered Jan Logan’s angry tears a few days ago when they spoke. She wondered if they’d knocked on her door yet in Spain to give her the news she already knew – that her man was dead. Poor Jan, her children without a father, even a half-wit no-use bastard of a father like Tam. In another life, with a better start, things could have been different for a feisty, bright woman who could clearly hold her own, but you didn’t get a lot of choices growing up in Springburn. Too often the only way out of there was to get deeper into the clutches of the scumbags and gangsters who ran the show.
Rosie jumped nervously as a waiter clearing tables accidentally nudged her in the passing. Jesus. She needed to calm down. She rubbed her face and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, the way she’d learned in the yoga class. But it would take more than deep breathing and yoga chants to get her through this story. She almost smiled to herself at the thought. Things were definitely beginning to unravel though. If they’d shot Tam Logan and burned his body, that meant they were trying to close down all the doors. She wondered just how Frank Paton and Tony Murphy had featured in all of this. If what Tanya had told her was correct, then they were all over this, providing refugees for the chop. It was almost unthinkable that two leading Glasgow lawyers could be doing this. And it had all become too much for Tony Murphy. Rosie thought of Frank Paton and what must be going on in his head right now. She’d have to find a way to get to him. She tried another deep breath, but it was interrupted, as she saw Emir walk through the doorway and head towards her. His face was a mask of grey.
‘Emir.’ Rosie squeezed his arm and resisted the urge to hug him.
‘Thank you to seeing me, Rosie,’ Emir said, his eyes moistening a little. He swallowed and Rosie saw his chin tremble as he fought back tears.
‘Let me get you a coffee, Emir. Go and get a seat over in that table in the corner.’ She squeezed his arm again. ‘You’ll be all right.’
He crossed the floor and sat in the booth. Rosie watched him from the counter as he sat with his head in his hands.
‘Here,’ she said, returning to the table with a coffee and a sandwich which she opened and handed to him.
‘Thank you. I am very hungry. No food since yesterday. No money. I sleep in a field.’ He bit off a huge chunk of the sandwich and took a mouthful of steaming coffee, wincing as it burned him. He wiped his mouth and took another bite.
Rosie caught a whiff of days’-old sweat and dirty clothes from him. She waited until he had eaten the sandwich before she spoke.
‘So, Emir,’ – she lowered her voice to almost a whisper. ‘You look shattered. I was really worried when you disappeared. I went to your house and neighbours told me they hadn’t seen you since that morning you were with me. Tell me what happened.’
He nodded, swallowing the last of the sandwich and taking a swig of coffee.
‘I tried to run, Rosie. They came to kill me.’ He ran a trembling hand across his face.
‘They came to your house?’
‘When I go into my house the same morning I see they are there already. They jump out on me. Two of them. One cut me with the knife. Stab me.’ He rolled up his shirt, caked with hard blood and sticking to an
angry, swollen wound. He grimaced in pain.
‘It’s poisoned,’ Rosie looked at the congealed blood and tender flesh. ‘You need to get this cleaned and dressed. You should have had an injection or something, Emir. Christ!’ She shook her head.
‘No time to think, Rosie. I fought them, the two of them, in my house. I hit one with a bottle and the other I stabbed with the knife I took off him. Then I ran from my flat and into the lift.’
‘God almighty!’
Emir nodded. ‘But the lift stop at every floor. And when it come to the ground and the door open, they are waiting for me. Don’t know, maybe they come down the stairs. Three more people were in the lift and they see everything, but nobody help me. The men are dragging me out and punching me. They take me to the car and put me in the boot. I see people watching, but nobody help me.’ He shrugged and shook his head. ‘Like if this is normal in Glasgow? I don’t know.’
Rosie sighed. ‘Not normal, Emir, but not that uncommon. Gangsters. Lot of areas are all run by drug dealers, so people would be too afraid to interfere.’
‘Or maybe they don’t care. I am just refugee. A foreigner.’ He looked down at the table.
Rosie felt ashamed. He was right. The people who stood by may have stood by anyway, because you don’t walk into another man’s fight in the middle of a housing estate unless you want your face slashed. But most of them probably gave less of a damn if it was a refugee getting battered.
‘So what happened then?’
‘They take me to the same place. Remember I told you? The place out of Glasgow. As soon as I am on the road, I know where I am going. It is where they took Jetmir and me that day.’
‘Then what?’
‘Nothing. They drag me from the boot and put me in a room in the place and left me there. I think the place … the building … look like where they kill the animals. We have places like that in Kosovo, where farmers are taking their animals for killing and selling.’
‘It’s called an abattoir here, Emir. Or a slaughterhouse.’
He nodded. ‘Okay. So I am there all day. They hit me on the head with a stick and knock me out, and leave me there. When I wake up later, I can hear outside them doing things, but I don’t know what they do. I hear machines like saws and hammering. Then I see from the window that it is getting dark and there is no sound outside. I hear cars starting the engines and driving away. Then is very quiet, and very dark.’
‘So how did you get out?’
‘In the room I saw a metal thing. Like a pole. Maybe they didn’t see it. So I found it in the dark and when I am sure everything is quiet, I use it to break open the door from the side. It worked.’ He shook his head and looked bemused. ‘I was surprised. Suddenly I am out there, I am free. I am in this big room like in a kitchen, or maybe a butcher place with the long metal … I do not know the word. But where the butcher chop things.’
‘Benches?’ Rosie said.
‘Yes. I think benches.’
Rosie pictured the scene.
‘That’s unbelievable, Emir.’
‘Yes,’ he said, ‘but I am also frightened because in one minute somebody maybe come in. But there is no noise. Just quiet and dark.’
‘So what did you do then?’
‘I find my way along the wall and look for the door. But it is locked. Big heavy door and I cannot open, even with the metal pole. So still I am trapped. I cannot see anything because it is so dark.’ He shrugged and sighed. ‘So I wait until it is getting light. Then I see from the window maybe I can climb out.’
‘You are very lucky, Emir.’
‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘But when the light comes …’ His eyes grew dark. ‘Not so lucky.’
Rosie sat forward.
‘What happened?’
‘In the light, I can see things on the table. Blood and skin, I think. Not animal skin. Human skin. I saw like bits of the brain. Maybe animal brain, or human, I don’t know. But it was brain, because my friend in Kosovo’s brother was a butcher. I saw before the brain of a sheep.’
Rosie felt a clutch in her stomach.
‘You see anything else, Emir?’
He nodded, swallowing. Then he shook his head, and fell silent.
‘What, Emir? What did you see?’
He took a deep breath. ‘In a corner, there is like a big bin. The cover is on it, but the bin is full. I was … er … curi? Curis?’ He screwed up his eyes. ‘I forget how you say the word.’
‘Curious.’ Rosie said.
‘Yes. Curious.’ He paused. ‘But I wish I didn’t look.’
‘Why? What did you see?’
Emir puffed his cheeks out.
‘Pieces,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Pieces from bodies. Human. For sure. A piece of a foot. Bones. But not of animals. Bones with no flesh – like the leg here.’ He pointed to his shin. ‘I saw one foot.’ He shook his head. ‘They are killing people and cutting them up in that place. My friend Jetmir. They took him there. I know I will never see him again.’ Tears came to his eyes. ‘Who are these people, Rosie, who do this? Why?’
They sat in silence, Rosie watching him weeping softly and wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. She reached across and touched his hand, then held it tightly while he wept.
Eventually, he spoke. ‘Sorry, Rosie. I am so sad. Jetmir and me are so close friends since children. I miss him. I am so alone now and I am frightened.’
‘You’re not alone, Emir.’ Rosie said, feeling a catch in her throat. ‘I will help you. I promise you.’
He looked at her and then at the table.
‘So,’ he sighed. ‘I climb out of the window and I run and keep on running until I am far away from that place. I slept in a field and sometimes at night in an old building, and walk in the daytime back to the city.’
Rosie watched him as he stared into space. She knew she should phone Don immediately and ask him to come and get Emir and protect him. But right now that’s not what he needed. Right now, he needed some care, a bath and some sleep.
‘Come on, Emir. Let’s go and get your wound fixed up.’ Rosie stood up.
‘Where are we going?’
‘To my house,’ she said, knowing she was breaking every rule in the book. ‘We’ll deal with everything tomorrow. Come on. Let’s go.’
CHAPTER 17
It was after eleven by the time Tanya came through the revolving door of the Holiday Inn and outside onto the forecourt. She glanced across at the taxi rank, then up at the clear night sky, brightened by a new moon. She stood breathing in the warm night air, trying to shake off the images of the last hour in the third-floor hotel room. Another sleazy businessman in transit, with too much money and time on his hands, sampling the discreet delights the city had to offer if you dropped the concierge at the front desk a bung for his trouble. She put her hand inside her shoulder bag and touched the notes she’d stuffed there on her way from his bedroom to the lift. He’d paid her an extra twenty for being so understanding after he’d taken so long to get an erection that Tanya had just about given up on him. She decided to walk to the Merchant City rather than spend the money on a taxi. She was looking forward to a long hot shower.
It was only after she crossed George Square and headed towards Ingram Street that she started to feel a little uneasy. No real reason for it – just a sensation of panicky edginess. She looked over her shoulder just in case anyone was following her, but there was nothing, only the odd car passing or stopped at the traffic lights – no different from any mid-week night when she might have been heading home. The streets grew quieter the further away she went from the city centre, then deserted, and more silent by the time she reached St Andrew’s Square. She quickened her step, wishing now she’d taken a cab. By the time she got to the front door of her apartment block, she was a little out of breath and cursed as she dropped her keys on the ground. She bent down to pick them up. Then her blood ran cold.
‘Tanya.’
It was Josef’s hand on her shoulder. She stood
up slowly, shock running through her as she turned to face him.
‘Josef.’ Her throat felt tight. She braced herself for him to strike her.
‘Please, Tanya.’ He put his hand out to touch her hair and she flinched. ‘Please. Don’t be afraid.’
Tanya felt her knees shaking. She swallowed, and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
‘Please, Tanya,’ Josef touched her face gently. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.’
Tanya could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. She looked up at his face, unshaven, and his hair dishevelled. His eyes softened, and somewhere behind them, she thought she could see the man he once was when they first met in London in what now seemed like another life.
‘What do you want, Josef?’ she managed to say.
‘My Tanya.’ He whispered, shaking his head. ‘My beautiful Tanya.’ He stroked her face with the back of his fingers. ‘Please forgive me.’
‘How do you know where I live?’ She turned her head away from him.
‘I followed you.’
‘You followed me. Tonight?’
He nodded slowly, fixing her with his gaze.
‘Why? What do you want?’
‘Please Tanya. I want to say I’m sorry. To prove to you I’m changed.’ He stepped a little closer to her, almost pinning her back to the door.
‘You … you raped me.’ She felt trapped.
‘Please Tanya. Please forgive me. I have been in hell since that day. I want to die. I cannot live without you.’
She shook her head, sniffing.
‘No, Josef. It’s over.’
She watched as he started to cry. Tears rolling down his face.
‘Please, Tanya. Let me come in. Please. Just let me talk to you. That’s all. Just to talk. Don’t leave me out here.’
They stood for a moment, with only the sound of their own breathing. A couple strolled past them and into the apartment block next door.
‘Okay,’ Tanya looked at him coldly. ‘You can come in just to talk. But we are finished, Josef. You understand?’