by Anna Smith
‘I wouldn’t have expected anything less, Javier.’ Rosie raised her glass in salute.
‘So,’ Javier continued. ‘We were talking about making a deal and he was arranging to meet again tomorrow but not here – in a little town called Salé close to the old city of Rabat. That’s where he does the filming. In his place. It’s about two hours drive from here.’ Javier drained his glass and Rosie waved the waiter over and ordered another bottle of wine.
‘Incidentally, I don’t know if you could see from where you were sitting but Vinny was drinking large cognacs. He had three while I was with him. I think he has a problem with alcohol because he looks it to me, plus I think he’d already had a few before I got there. Towards the end he was beginning to run off at the mouth.’
‘Really? Go on.’ Rosie leaned forward.
He looked from Matt to Rosie, lit a cigarette.
‘You’re going to love this.’ He blew the smoke upwards. ‘Come closer, because I must talk very quietly.’
Rosie and Matt pulled their chairs up.
‘He told me he’s making a film the day after tomorrow in Salé with a little kid, and after he sells it, he’ll make so much money that he’ll be able to retire and go to live in Thailand – no doubt where he can buy as many little boys as he wants. Bastard.’
‘Amy? You think he’s talking about Amy?’
Javier nodded. ‘It’s possible. Very possible. Because he did say that when this film came out the whole world would be talking about it.’
‘Jesus, Javier.’
She took one of Javier’s cigarettes and he lit it for her.
‘Obviously I didn’t want to make too much of what he said, but I did ask him what would make this one so special. And you know what he said to me?’ He looked from one to the other. ‘He said because he was going to sell a clip of it to make money. Big money. Was going to sell it to the newspapers, he said.’
‘What did he mean?’
‘That was the point when I asked him if the kid he was talking about was missing,’ Javier said.
‘You asked him that?’
Rosie trusted Javier’s judgment. He wouldn’t have asked that if he thought he’d be rumbled.
‘Yes, Rosie. I asked him that. I can see that this little fucker is stupid and drunk enough to say something he shouldn’t. And you know what?’ Javier smiled. ‘He did. He was that stupid.’
‘What did he say, Javier?’
Javier drank a mouthful of wine.
‘He told me he was doing this film for somebody else, and that he would be paid a lot of money for it. I asked him again why they would pay him so much for a film of this missing kid and what would they do with it if it was just another film. And he said one word.’ Javier paused for effect. ‘Ransom.’ He looked at both of them. ‘He didn’t elaborate, but my guess is he was going to try to stiff his client by selling the clip himself before they have a chance to do it – maybe sell it to a newspaper or TV channel for big money.’
‘Fuck me, Javier!’ Matt said.
‘Thank you, Matt, but I much prefer your partner.’ Javier grinned.
CHAPTER 33
With the click of the trigger being cocked, Besmir’s eyes popped wide open. The cold metal of the revolver pressed against his temple. He looked up. In the blackness of the bedroom Adrian’s face was lit by the shaft of street light coming through the window. He knew better than to move a muscle. Adrian stared down at him, his face blank. Besmir swallowed, barely breathing.
‘You’ve come to kill me, so kill me, Adrian.’ He stared back. ‘You would be doing me a favour, my friend.’ He could feel sweat stinging his back.
Silence.
‘Tell me, Besmir. Why has Leka sent me to kill you?’
Silence. Besmir looked at the hooded eyes of the big Bosnian. He knew Adrian more by reputation than acquaintance, and he was feared by everyone in the organisation except him. Until now. Because now he had a gun at Besmir’s head, and he knew that if he didn’t tell Adrian what he wanted to know, he had maybe fifteen seconds left. Enough time to consider why Adrian had asked the question in the first place. Because if he asked it, his intention was not to do Leka’s dirty work, but to find out why.
‘The girl,’ Besmir said, feeling his chest tighten with anxiety. ‘The girl I took for Leka. He is suspicious.’
‘You killed Sergei. Leka sent him to deal with you. So he was right to be suspicious. Why you back in Morocco?’
Besmir felt a trickle of sweat from his hairline run down his forehead. He knew little of Adrian except that he had fought his way out of his besieged Bosnian village after a massacre by Serbian soldiers. And also the legend of how he saved Leka’s life from the men who double crossed him in Spain. In the three months Adrian had been working with Leka’s mob, they’d spoken only once, and briefly, while they both waited outside Leka’s office on business. Besmir had found him quiet, like himself, with a protective wall around him. And like him, he knew Adrian was not to be crossed.
‘You don’t have much time left, Besmir. Tell me.’
Besmir took as deep a breath as he dared.
‘I saw some things. Children. In cages. It changes everything.’ His voice was almost a whisper.
Adrian’s face showed nothing.
‘Go on.’
‘I was taken by someone to a place where they keep stolen children. Small children, three, four, five years old. They keep them in cages. Like animals. Then they use them for porn films and sometimes to kill them. Or they just keep using them over and over again with perverts.’
Silence.
‘Is the kidnap girl there?’
‘No, I don’t think so. Not yet.’
‘So why do you care what happens to the children in cages, or to the British girl? Why all of a sudden you care? You kidnapped her.’
Besmir blinked away the image of his childhood in the iron cots. He thought of Kaltrina and the blue of her eyes.
‘I take the girl and bring her to Tangiers as Leka told me, but something happened to me. I don’t know what. That is the truth, my friend. You can kill me if you do not believe me. The girl … she was frightened. She …’ He paused. ‘She kept leaning, holding on to me. I do not know why. When I gave her to the woman in Tangiers she was crying for me when they took her away. That never happen before to me.’ He looked at Adrian. ‘I am from the orphanage in Tirana. I remember the cots, like cages, and the crying. All the time we are all crying. And the smell.’
‘So?’ Adrian kept the gun firmly at his head. ‘Why did you come back here?’
‘I … I want to free the children from that place. And I want to get the girl. Kal—’ He stopped before he said the name. ‘I want to get the girl and take her back. I did a bad thing.’
‘Is very late to know you did a bad thing, Besmir.’
‘I know this.’ He looked up. ‘But why you are asking me this, Adrian? If you come to kill me, why you care?’
Adrian took the gun from his head, but kept it pointed at him.
‘I am also looking for the girl, the British one. Amy.’
Relief began to flood through Besmir. Adrian wasn’t here to kill him. He too was betraying Leka.
‘Can I sit up, Adrian? Please, take the gun away. If you are not going to kill me, do not point the gun. Let me sit up and we talk.’
Adrian took a step back but kept the gun on him.
‘When you tell me everything, I will not point the gun. But if you do anything stupid, you will be dead. Be sure of that, Besmir.’
Besmir nodded and sat up on the side of the bed. He took the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table and looked at Adrian for approval before he slowly took one out. He lit up and took a deep draw, letting the smoke fill his lungs and his head.
‘I will tell you everything.’ He turned his face upwards to where the Bosnian was still standing over him. ‘But we must be able to trust each other. If we do, we can maybe do something good. For me, is the first time I do something good i
n my life.’ He put his hand out. Adrian hesitated, then shook it. ‘But how can I be sure I can trust you, Adrian?’
‘You cannot, but you have run out of choices.’ Adrian let go of his hand. ‘Only one thing you can be sure of, Besmir. If you betray me, I will kill you. Do you understand? If you betray me, you are already dead.’
Besmir stood up. ‘I understand.’
‘Talk to me,’ Adrian said.
Besmir placed his half-smoked cigarette on the ashtray, went to the washbasin and turned on the cold tap. He splashed water on his face then dabbed it with a small towel. He went back across the room and opened the window. He picked up the cigarette and sat on the narrow window sill with his back to the street. He began to tell Adrian about the journey with the girl, and also about the fat man. He told him about the driver, Hassan, who had mentioned about the children in cages. Leka had told him that the girl he kidnapped would be bought by a family, and that he was selling her to the Moroccans as part of a deal because they would be doing more business together with drugs, and she would be sold to a rich couple. Leka had said nothing about other children. It was only when the driver told him of the other children that he wanted to see for himself. He said he couldn’t explain even to himself, but he couldn’t stand the thought of the little girl he stole being trapped inside a cage. So he went with the driver and saw the cages for himself.
‘So that is all what I can tell you, Adrian, of why I am here,’ he said. ‘I want to get the girl and save the other children.’
‘Save them? Like you are the hero?’ Adrian said flatly.
Besmir looked at him, then at the ground.
‘Not like the hero,’ he said. ‘The girl made me think. That is all.’ He looked at Adrian. ‘But why are you really here, Adrian? You didn’t come to kill me, so why?’
Adrian put the gun into his waistband and picked up Besmir’s cigarettes. He took one for himself then threw the packet back on the bedside table. He lit his cigarette, then stood staring past Besmir out of the open window at the morning light beginning to break through.
‘My sister,’ he said. ‘My sister has been kidnapped by Leka and his mob.’
‘Your sister! She is a child?’
‘No.’ Adrian shook his head. ‘She is seventeen. She come from Sarajevo to Malaga for work. She and her friend were promised jobs, but they are kidnapped. Her friend escape but my sister is not. I cannot find her, but I know she is in Costa del Sol. Marbella maybe.’ He sighed. ‘You know what happens with the girls. They go to the whorehouses. They are drugged. You know, because sometimes you must drive them.’
Besmir saw that Adrian could barely control his anger. He felt edgy, and stood up, walking past him to the bedside chair, where he picked up his shirt and pulled it on over his vest.
‘Not for a long time, Adrian,’ he said. ‘I haven’t driven any girls for a long time.’
‘But you know where they go. Don’t you?’
‘I have taken them only to a house in the country or to some of the clubs. But I am only driving them, I never see them. I don’t talk to them or know where they come from. When was your sister taken?’
‘Three months ago. That is why I come to Spain. That is why I work with Leka’s mob. I come to find her. Find her from the inside.’
Besmir had to admire his guts.
‘You came here and hooked in with Leka, just to find your sister? You are a brave man.’
Adrian shrugged. ‘I must find my sister. I will find her.’
‘So why you want to know about the girl? The one I took to Tangiers.’
Silence. Adrian went across and closed the window. He turned to Besmir.
‘I am also helping my friend. She is a journalist. British. She has information about what can maybe happen to the girl Amy if we don’t find her. And she is helping me find my sister. Come. We go and drink coffee. I will tell you.’
Besmir stuffed his cigarettes into his pocket and followed Adrian out of the door. He had no idea where he was going or what would happen next. But he knew that now Adrian had tracked him down, he had indeed run out of choices.
In the pavement cafe, Besmir listened as Adrian told him what had happened to his sister and how the journalist had promised to help him find her by highlighting the story in her newspaper because of the connection with the British politician. He knew he could get up and walk away now because Adrian wouldn’t risk shooting him in the middle of a busy street. But if he did that, Adrian would hunt him down.
He looked at the big man and wondered if he could take him out if it came down to that. The deciding factor would be about who had the most to lose – and it wasn’t him. There was nobody waiting for him, nobody depending on him, hoping he would come through for them. An image of Kaltrina flashed through his mind, of the moment when he’d opened the boot of his car in Tangiers and saw the wide-eyed hopeful look on her face. She wasn’t waiting for him. But he knew that with the help of Hassan, they could get her back.
‘You see, Adrian,’ Besmir said, ‘I have a plan. I told you about the driver. He knows from inside what is going on and will find out what the plan is with the girl. I know I can get her back, do the things I told you I want to do – set the children in the cages free. But with someone else involved, it is more difficult.’ He sipped his coffee. ‘And now you tell me you have this journalist, this newspaper woman, too. Is dangerous with more people in this. You know that?’
‘Of course I do. Do not worry about the journalist. I can manage that. She knows danger and she will not do anything stupid.’
Besmir could not dictate terms. It would have to be Adrian’s way. His mobile rang and he took it out of his pocket. It was Hassan. He listened, conscious that Adrian was watching him. Then he hung up and put the phone on the table.
‘It was my friend, the driver. Hassan. He has news.’
Adrian’s expression didn’t change.
‘Tell me.’
‘They are taking the girl tomorrow to another place. Hassan is driving the car, with the fat man I tell you about. They are taking her to some place called Salé. Hassan says it is near Rabat. He said it is where the children are sometimes taken, but he has never driven them there before. He is calling me later and we will plan things.’
Adrian sat forward. ‘Listen, Besmir, I think I know what they are doing. I have been working with the journalist and there is a man in Salé, a British paedophile. She is investigating him. This man is called Vinny. I saw him last night. He makes films of adults having sex with children. Also, he makes films where children are killed. I think they are taking the girl there.’
Besmir’s stomach turned over. He had made this happen.
‘Your face is white, Besmir. You are going to be sick?’
Besmir tried to compose himself. ‘I am fine.’
‘You should not be shocked, Besmir. What did you think was going to happen to the little girl when you took her? Are you stupid? You have worked for these people for over a year.’
Besmir felt anger rising. Not long ago, he would have kicked the table over and grabbed Adrian by the throat for challenging him like this. Not long ago, it was just another job to him. The fact that he was told by Leka to steal a kid had surprised him, but not enough for him refuse to do it. But whoever he was when he took the little girl from the beach, isn’t who he was now.
‘Fuck you, Adrian. You are now like the priest who tells people how to live? You think I don’t know I was stupid?’
Adrian shook his head. ‘That is your problem. But now you know what happens when you kidnap a human being. Their life is over. You should have thought about that. Like my sister. If I don’t find my sister, her life is over. And the life of my mother back in Sarajevo.’
Besmir said nothing and looked away. He did not want to push the Bosnian for fear of what he might unleash.
After a moment, he looked Adrian in the eye, and spoke calmly.
‘So. We can do two things, my friend. I can sit here and listen to yo
u telling me I am a bastard. Or we can make a plan. It is up to you.’
‘We make the plan.’
CHAPTER 34
‘I feel really sick.’ Rosie pulled down the sun visor and glanced in the vanity mirror at Matt in the back seat.
‘I’m not too clever myself,’ Matt said. ‘Fucking potholes.’
Adrian kept his eyes on the road as he tried to negotiate the car around the huge craters in the dirt track road.
‘Is not really a road,’ he said, steering away from another pothole. ‘Is just tracks made from other cars. It is very bad.’
‘Christ!’ Rosie took a sip from her bottle of mineral water, now lukewarm in the midday sun. ‘What kind of shithole is this? Bet it doesn’t tell you this in the holiday brochure.’
‘I don’t think you’ll find Salé in the holiday brochure, Rosie,’ Matt said. ‘What a dump.’
Rosie rolled up her window. Sweat broke out on her back and she could feel rising anxiety. The last thing she needed was a panic attack in the middle of this. She tried to take deep breaths without anyone noticing, but she was aware of Adrian stealing a glance at her.
‘Is okay, Rosie. We will find the place soon.’
It wasn’t the roads and the heat that were troubling Rosie. She felt threatened by the sheer teeming masses in the streets of this ugly ghetto they’d driven into. A few short miles from the charming, ancient city of Rabat, they’d driven into a different world. Salé was a giant slum and looked like someone had emptied half of Morocco into the streets and left them wandering around like refugees. There were few cars, and the streets were littered with piles of rubbish. The occasional rundown cafe was the only sign that there was any life going on. In their hired car they looked like tourists who’d taken a wrong turn. Rosie felt like prey caught in a trap. This really was the kind of place where you could disappear and nobody would ever find you. Looking at Adrian, she told herself to get a grip, and felt a little safer when he waved away the beggars shoving their faces into the car window and holding out their hands.