Screams in the Dark

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Screams in the Dark Page 24

by Anna Smith


  ‘That’s exactly the area I am looking at, Gerhard. As I told you on the phone, refugees are going missing.’

  He nodded. ‘Yes. People-trafficking is big business, with gangmasters making money. But refugees? Nobody cares. Believe me, it’s worth more for the criminals to bring in the refugees and then make money from their corpses. I am telling you, Rosie, there are companies across Europe who come to these people with a shopping list of body parts.’

  ‘It’s almost unbelievable, Gerhard.’

  ‘But it’s true.’ He shook his head. ‘People say I’m a little obsessed now.’ He looked at Rosie. ‘Maybe I am obsessed, but I am not some alcoholic nutcase, Rosie. I am right on this story. I know I am.’

  Rosie nodded in agreement. ‘I can see how hard it must have been for you,’ she said, and thought how people-trafficking had just taken on a whole new meaning. She could see the story in the paper – Frank Paton and Tony Murphy … The Body Brokers … She shook herself free of her imaginings and turned to Gerhard.

  ‘Gerhard. One thing I wanted to ask you: can you shed some more light on why a firm as massive as PD Pharmaceuticals would even allow any part of their empire to be involved in illegal tissue trade? I know it’s big business worldwide, but why would they risk it? Why would they need it?’

  ‘Greed, Rosie. Is all greed.’ He shrugged and shook his head sadly. ‘PD have several smaller subsidiary companies under their umbrella, and they would claim they are all autonomous in terms of management and that the parent company was unaware of what was happening. But that is just not acceptable. And anyway, even to be unaware is still a crime. They should have been more responsible, somebody must have known. And this man Boskovac I told you about. The Serbian. He was at the core of the company I exposed who were involved in the tissue trade, yet they now have him on their board of directors. It’s so arrogant.’

  Rosie screwed up her eyes a little.

  ‘But why would PD put this Boskovac on the board? I mean, even if there was a whiff of scandal about the smaller company he was involved in. Why not just cut him loose? Ditch him? I can’t get my head around that. Surely they would have to be seen to be whiter than white.’

  Gerhard pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Unless the one man who could sink them needed to be placated in some way. Kept onside.’

  ‘They could just have paid him off.’

  Gerhard shrugged. ‘Of course. But perhaps he knew things that they could not put a price on. It could be that Boskovac knows where the bodies are buried, if you’ll pardon the pun. What if he knows everything that went on, and how people in high places at PD turned a blind eye?’

  ‘Are you speculating, or do you know that?’

  Gerhard put his cup down. ‘I’m working on it.’

  ‘And what of his relationship with Raznatovic? Do you know more about that?’ Rosie was fishing.

  ‘I know they go back to when they studied together. They were both corrupt in the communist regime in the old Yugoslavia. I think the seeds were sown then. I am still tracking that.’

  Rosie sat back, aware that Hoffman glanced fleetingly as she crossed her legs.

  ‘You said you have important information for me, Gerhard.’

  ‘I do,’ he said. ‘I should have it later today.’ He lowered his voice almost to a whisper. ‘I have been back and forth to Belgrade for a while, and I have my connections here and in Germany who assisted me at the time. There are still some people on my side. Listen. I have a contact here who has a photograph of Boskovac with the British politican – you know, the man Tim Hayman?’

  ‘Of course,’ Rosie said, dying to hear what was next. ‘He is on the board of PD Pharmaceuticals.’

  ‘Yes. But he was an associate and friend of Boskovac while he was still the Environment Secretary.’

  Rosie raised her eyebrows. ‘You can stand that up?’ she asked.

  ‘A photograph will stand it up, will it not?’

  ‘What kind of photograph?’

  ‘Both of them together.’

  ‘Yes, but they’re both on the board of PD now. Hayman’s on PD’s board in a consultative capacity, so it wouldn’t be unusual for them to be photographed together.’ Rosie’s heart sank a little.

  Gerhard gave a wry smile. ‘Yes. But a picture of them while Boskovac was involved in the company I exposed, standing with his arm over the shoulder of the then Environment Secretary Tim Hayman. That would be unusual, would it not?’

  ‘You have that?’ She could see McGuire biting her hand off.

  ‘I will have it later tonight. But it gets better, Rosie. Both Boskovac and Hayman are photographed at some shooting party in the Scottish Highlands. The picture, I’m told, is of them standing armed with rifles.’

  Rosie’s eyes widened. ‘Seriously? You can get that?’

  Gerhard gave a little chuckle. ‘I see you are the kind of reporter who relishes winning the big fights.’

  ‘Of course,’ Rosie said. ‘Especially when I might be able to bury the kind of low-lifes involved in this.’ She paused, then looked right at him and said, ‘It would be a real coup if you could get that picture, Gerhard. How will I know? I mean when?’ Rosie could barely contain her excitement.

  ‘I have known about the photograph for a few days. I wanted to tell you, but it was important for me to meet you first, to make sure you were the right kind of journalist for me to deal with.’ He gave her a warm smile. ‘And I am satisfied with what I see.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Rosie said.

  ‘In a couple of hours I will be seeing my contact,’ Gerhard said. ‘I will call you later to meet you. If there is any problem and you cannot come, I will put it in your hotel for you. Where are you staying?’

  Rosie told him. ‘But I will meet you later tonight, Gerhard. That’ll be no problem. I’ll build whatever we’re doing later around seeing you.’

  Gerhard looked at his watch. He drained his coffee cup.

  ‘Okay, Rosie. I must go now. I have something to do before I meet my contact later. Then I will call your mobile.’ He reached across and shook her hand warmly. ‘I am so glad to meet you, Rosie. When you called me that afternoon and told me what you were doing, I was elated. At last, perhaps we can nail these people to the wall.’

  ‘We will, Gerhard. And I will write in my story of your part in the investigation – especially your earlier revelations that have led the way in this. You can take the newspaper when it comes out and stick it under the noses of your paper’s bosses who lost their bottle.’

  ‘I know where I will stick it,’ he said, standing up. ‘And it wouldn’t be under their noses.’ He smiled. ‘I must go.’ He turned and left.

  *

  The floating restaurants along the River Danube in Belgrade were a famous haunt these days for the gangsters and thugs who had established themselves in the new Serbia. Rosie, sitting with Matt in one of the corner tables where the surly waiter had put them, felt uneasy. Even though there were a few tourists scattered around, the place was full of shifty-looking Serbs flaunting their wealth and power.

  ‘Look,’ Rosie said to Matt, as one guy swaggered in with his jacket draped over his shoulders. He was followed by four burly henchmen and two equally burly Alsatian dogs.

  ‘Christ,’ Matt said. ‘They don’t look like guide dogs.’

  Rosie glanced at them. ‘No. The dogs are all part of the entourage with the gangsters,’ she explained. ‘You wouldn’t just walk up to that table uninvited without getting your arm bitten off.’

  Within a couple of minutes, two leggy blondes were brought to the table, and the guy who appeared to be the boss grunted to the Alsatians who were ready to pounce when the women came close. The dogs sat back down, vigilant, as one of the women sat on his knee, and the other put her arms around his neck and kissed his shiny shaven head.

  ‘Hookers,’ Rosie said, jerking her head towards the bar. ‘There’s at least another two of of them up there.’

  Matt eyed th
em up. ‘Bit different from the ones you see back in Glasgow … Yeah. I’d bet these birds have got all their own teeth.’

  The waiter arrived and they ordered something that looked uncomplicated. He poured red wine into their glasses and left. Rosie leaned across the table, and gave a discreet nod to Adrian and Risto who were sat a few tables away from them. Adrian lifted his chin in acknowledgement. Rosie could see him eyeballing every table.

  ‘I think it was a good idea of Adrian’s for us not to sit together,’ she said. ‘Even if I don’t feel quite as safe without him.’

  ‘It’s all right here, Rosie. There’s loads of people. I’m not worried.’

  ‘I know,’ she said. ‘But it’s just that they’re all Serbs, and you never know who’s a gangster and who isn’t. Plus the fact that I don’t think anyone who looks either British or American is popular in Belgrade right now. I mean, it’s only months after Kosovo, when NATO was bombing the shit out of this city.’

  An image flashed across Rosie’s mind of the sky over Pristina, lit up with low-flying aircraft strafing targets on the ground.

  ‘You saw for yourself today, Matt,’ she said. ‘The bomb damage in the centre of Belgrade, buildings in ruins. There’ll be no shortage of bitterness.’

  ‘Well,’ Matt gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Not our fault if these guys can’t take a joke.’

  Rosie looked beyond him and caught Adrian’s eye. He raised one finger, the signal they’d agreed earlier, to let her know if and when Raznatovic just walked in at the back of her.

  ‘Shit,’ Rosie’s stomach turned over, and she whispered to Matt. ‘Look behind me. He’s here. He’s just walked in.’

  ‘Fuck me,’ Matt said quickly glancing up. ‘So he has. I hope to Christ he doesn’t recognise me.’

  ‘Don’t even go there, Matt.’

  The waiter arrived with their food, and Matt looked down at the table as Raznatovic and the three other men walked past, with the head waiter striding ahead of them. Rosie watched as he seated them a couple of tables to the right of Adrian. She was glad Raznatovic had his back to her. But she recognised one of the other men with him straight away.

  ‘Shit, Matt. The other guy’s here, the one I told you about. The Serb who’s also on the board of PD Pharmaceuticals.’ She whispered. ‘Goran Boskovac. The Serbian.’

  ‘Dancer! That’s a result.’

  ‘All you need now is to snatch a picture of the pair of them without getting us killed. How the hell are you going to do that, pal?’

  ‘Well, it’ll not be in here anyway, that’s for sure. I’d rather keep my bollocks intact. We’ll just wait and see how it pans out.’ He reached across and touched her hand. ‘Let’s act like a normal couple. Maybe if the band strikes up a bit of Strauss, I’ll take you up for a wee Viennese waltz. Should I lean over and kiss you?’

  ‘Yeah, right, Matt. Just let’s eat our dinner.’

  Rosie kept an eye on Raznatovic’s table. They were ordering dinner, with him leaning across and talking quietly to the man she recognised as Boskovac from the newspaper cuttings of Gerhard’s original story. The other two who were with them looked like military types – minders by the cut of them. They didn’t seem to take part much in the conversation, and both were sipping water, while Raznatovic and his friend drank beer.

  ‘I can’t believe that this bastard’s just sitting there ordering dinner when you think what he’s been doing in Glasgow for God knows how long, and what he did in Bosnia,’ Rosie said, disgusted. ‘Where does a guy like Raznatovic go when he sleeps at night?’

  ‘Places you and me don’t even know about, Rosie. They’re subhuman.’ Matt said between mouthfuls of food.

  ‘Don’t let it spoil your appetite, Matt,’ Rosie said sarcastically.

  ‘I won’t,’ Matt laughed. ‘But seriously. Guys like that? I’d round them all up and shoot them.’

  ‘Agreed. But I wouldn’t say that too loudly in here.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘But you know what, Matt … If we can get to a stage where we can pinpoint where your man over there is hiding out, then alert the authorities and actually get him arrested, we’ll have done something really worthwhile in our lives.’ She saw Adrian get to his feet and walk towards her, discreetly pointing a finger to Matt when he got close.

  ‘Adrian’s coming. Not sure what he’s going to do, but he won’t stop and talk, Matt, and it looks like he wants you to go out. So you’d be best to follow him. He’s trying to tell us something.’

  ‘Okay. Maybe he’ll go to the toilet.’

  Matt waited until Adrian was almost out of the restaurant door then got up from the table and followed him.

  Rosie had her phone on silent, but could feel it shuddering in her pocket and took it out. It was a missed call from TJ. She sipped her wine, thinking about how they’d parted a few days ago. She wouldn’t say a proper goodbye, telling him she would be back by the time he left for New York in a week. She had been here in Belgrade two days now, most of the last two nights spent holed up in a hotel while Adrian gathered information from his contacts on Raznatovic’s movements. He’d already established it wouldn’t be possible to stake out the apartment where he was staying without being spotted. It needed to be more public, which also increased the risk of getting caught. The tip-off had only come this afternoon that he’d be eating in this particular restaurant on the banks of the river tonight.

  Rosie sat back, looking out of the window at the moonlight on the Danube. At this rate, she’d be hard pushed to be back in Glasgow by the time TJ left, but she guessed that deep down he knew that.

  Her mobile rang, but there was no number. She answered it quickly, not wanting to attract any attention.

  ‘Rosie. It is Gerhard Hoffman.’

  Startled, Rosie glanced around the room and spoke softly into the phone. ‘It’s difficult for me to talk right now. Can you call me back?’

  ‘Yes. I have the photograph.’

  ‘Brilliant!’

  ‘I will come to your hotel later tonight. I will call you in a couple of hours.’

  Rosie’s heart did a little flutter as he hung up. She couldn’t wait to tell Matt. Adrian walked past Rosie and back to his seat, followed seconds later by Matt.

  ‘There’s a plan,’ Matt said, pulling in his chair. ‘Adrian says there’s going to be some chaos in a few minutes and we’ve to be ready.’

  ‘Chaos?’

  ‘Yep.’ Matt was a little edgy. ‘Wouldn’t say what. Just said to be ready.’ He put his hand in his pocket fumbling for his camera, making sure he was ready. ‘Then, we’ve got to GTF out of here and away smartish.’

  ‘Now I am really nervous.’ Rosie finished her wine.

  She saw Risto get up and leave the table, then walk past them and out of the restaurant.

  When he didn’t return after a couple of minutes, Rosie was about to ask Matt what he thought was going on, when suddenly the place was plunged into darkness. In the pitch black there were gasps of shock around the room.

  ‘Oh shit, Matt.’ Rosie blinked, trying to adjust to the dark. ‘I guess this is the chaos.’

  Then, suddenly, the sound of gunshot and a window shattering somewhere close by. Women screamed. Another shot and more windows breaking. Then the pinging sound of a bullet hitting something metal. The Alsatians started barking hysterically, and Rosie could hear people moving around her, making for the door. More gunshot and glass breaking.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Matt. What’s going on? Is somebody shooting holes in the bloody boat?’

  ‘I don’t know. But Adrian says to stay where we are until he comes to our table.’

  Rosie’s eyes were getting used to the dark, and around her she saw that people had dived below tables for cover. Others were rushing towards the door, stepping over broken glass. She saw Raznatovic get up, and immediately Adrian rose to his feet. Raznatovic went past her, his minders barging people out of the way in the crush. Adrian came up to their table and grabbed Matt by the shoul
der.

  ‘Now. Go.’ He leaned down and whispered.

  Matt got up and pushed his way forward, and Rosie got up behind him. She could feel Adrian’s arm firmly on her back as he steered her towards the door. From the light that was coming from outside, she saw that Matt had managed somehow to squeeze past everyone and was going down the gangplank to the quayside. Adrian kept close to Rosie, right behind Raznatovic and his henchmen. When they got outside, it was total chaos, people running around, rushing to their luxury cars. Others stood by bodyguards brandishing Kalashnikovs or handguns. The Alsatian dogs were hysterical and biting everything in sight as the bald gangster’s minders surrounded him until he got to his nearby BMW. Raznatovic’s minders, both carrying handguns made a path through the crowd for him. She watched as far as she could until Raznatovic disappeared into a waiting Mercedes with blacked-out windows. Dozens of people milled around the quayside in confusion, and somewhere in the distance was the sound of a police siren. Then Rosie saw Risto and Matt.

  ‘Let’s go,’ Adrian said. ‘You come in my car and Risto and Matt will follow.’

  CHAPTER 31

  The first two gin and tonics didn’t even touch the sides, and, now on her third, Rosie was relaxed and smoking a cigarette, gazing around properly for the first time at the beautiful buildings in the Kneza Milahia in Belgrade’s Old Town. In the bars and pavement cafes dotted along the cobblestone pedestrian precinct it felt just like any big European city – not a trace of the recent bloody history that would define the Balkans for generations to come.

  ‘So, let’s see what you got, Matt,’ Rosie said. ‘I can’t believe you got away with taking pictures outside.’

  ‘It was so mental, with everyone diving for cover in case someone was shooting at them, they didn’t even notice me hosing them down,’ he chirped.

  He took his camera out and clicked on a few pictures, passing it over for Rosie to have a look.

  ‘Perfect,’ she said, as images of both Raznatovic and Boskovac face-on popped up. ‘These are dynamite. I could kiss you, Matt.’

 

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