DON'T LOOK DOWN

by Barbara Scott Emmett

  ‘Does he have a brother? Alina’s pimp?’ Mentally, she compared the two men: the one who lived next door to Katti, with his bowling ball head sunk in his shoulders, and the yellow eyed gunman, with his polished pate. There was something similar in their expressions, their weight, their build.

  ‘How should I know? We don’t exactly exchange family gossip.’

  ‘Brothers,’ Lauren said, nodding. ‘They have to be.’

  ‘So they are all in it together. Alina too.’

  ‘I don’t know about that, Wolf. Him, yes, but her?’

  ‘Of course she’s involved. She has to be. They have used her to get to Katti.’

  ‘She was terrified when I spoke to her,’ Lauren said. ‘Terrified of something. And shocked when I told her about Katti’s disappearance. She’s obviously been trafficked herself. I can’t see her being involved in the kidnapping.’

  Wolf shoved the photo into his jacket pocket. ‘Well, let’s go and ask her then, shall we?’

  Fifty-four

  ‘Tell us what you know, Alina. Please.’ Lauren stood on the chilly landing outside the girl’s apartment with Wolf glowering behind her. He’d made sure Kristo’s car wasn’t parked in its usual place before they approached Alina.

  ‘You were at that chalet where they held me, weren’t you?’ Lauren went on. ‘You must have been. You dropped this.’ She held up the photograph.

  Alina’s eyes widened. She peered around the door trying to see past them and down the stairs.

  ‘Are you expecting your er... friend back?’ Lauren asked. The girl reminded her of a fox, listening intently for danger, her eyes darting everywhere, never still. She seemed to be sniffing the air for intelligence.

  ‘No one is coming,’ Wolf said. ‘You can hear the front door opening from up here. You would hear his footsteps on the stairs.’

  ‘Is he involved in Katti’s kidnap?’ Lauren said.

  The girl shook her head again. ‘Not Kristo. No. He don’t know where she is.’ She made to close the front door.

  ‘Why don’t you come downstairs to Wolf’s place, Alina?’ Lauren said. ‘Or we could go into Katti’s flat next door.’ She was as reluctant as the girl was to be caught by this Kristo guy. If he was the gunman’s brother, she was no doubt on his hit list too by now. Wolf as well, probably.

  ‘Yes, let’s do that.’ Wolf stuck his foot in the door. ‘We will not go away. So you can either come with us or speak to us here. Either way, you will speak to us.’ He put his weight against the door and forced it further open unbalancing the girl, who tottered aside.

  Lauren gave Wolf a cautionary look. She wasn’t too keen on the tough-guy treatment though she knew they had to get Alina talking somehow. Standing on the dim and draughty landing to do it wasn’t the best option. They were vulnerable here themselves. ‘What time will your friend be back?’

  ‘I dunno. He kill me if he see you here. He kill you too.’

  ‘Well, we’d better get it over with fast, then.’ Wolf stepped over the threshold, forcing his way into the hallway.

  ‘No! No. Okay, I come with you. Go next door, okay? Is better.’

  ‘Very well.’ Wolf pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and went to open Katti’s front door.

  The flat was warm as no one had thought to turn off the heating. When she was settled on the chaise longue with Alina, Lauren tried again. ‘Tell us what you know. Please, Alina. You do know something about all this, don’t you?’

  Alina lifted one shoulder sullenly, tilting her head to the side.

  ‘Did they keep you there, too? Against your will?’ Lauren leaned towards the girl, sympathy in her eyes. ‘Are you still being held against your will?’

  Alina moved her head but Lauren couldn’t make out if it was a nod or a shake – and nods and shakes meant different things in different cultures. She tried a different tack. ‘Is this your boyfriend? He’s very good looking –’

  Alina snatched the photograph out of her hand and threw it on the floor, making a spitting gesture after it. ‘I hate him.’

  Lauren looked up at Wolf but he kept his eyes on Alina and remained standing by the table.

  ‘Why is that?’ Lauren said. ‘You look so happy together.’

  ‘I was happy.’ The girl’s voice was thick. ‘For little while. Till he –’ She broke off, tears filling her eyes. ‘Is all his fault.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘That I am here. Like this.’ She wiped her tears away with her cuff. ‘Yes I was there,’ she said. ‘At that place. Few months ago.’

  ‘The chalet?’ Wolf moved closer. ‘So this Kristo guy is involved?’

  Alina hugged herself tight. ‘He buy me from Zamir.’ She made another spitting gesture at the photo. ‘I hate him.’

  ‘This is Zamir?’ asked Lauren, rescuing the snapshot from the floor.

  ‘He say he love me. But he don’t love me. I hate him.’ The girl pulled a balled-up handkerchief out of her sleeve and blew into it, averting her face and attempting to hide her action behind her hand. ‘He trick me. He say he take me to new life. In Italy. We get good jobs and nice place together.’ Her face crumpled and she brought her thin hands up to cover her distress. ‘He make me go with Kristo... and Kristo make me work with... with lots of mens. I don’t like. I wanna go home.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave him, then?’ Wolf said. ‘He doesn’t keep you locked up. You could leave now.’

  ‘I got no money! He take it all. He say he give it to my mother but I don’t believe him no more. I don’t get no letter from her.’

  ‘Have you attempted to contact your mother?’ Wolf said.

  The girl bowed her head. ‘I not so good with that. With letter. Katti help me but I still don’t get no letter back.’

  ‘What about calling her?’

  She stared up at him, her face blank.

  ‘On the phone?’ he said.

  ‘She don’t have no phone.’ She sniffed. ‘No phone.’

  ‘Then why don’t you go to the police?’

  The girl stared at Wolf in dismay. ‘Kristo will send someone to hurt my mother. To punish me. And if police send me home, Zamir will come for me again.’

  Lauren touched Wolf’s arm to stop the interrogation. ‘Were there other girls at the chalet with you, Alina?’ she said. ‘Has he done it before? Or since?’

  ‘Was three other girls with me. All went with him for new life in Italy.’ She sneered the words out. ‘Only he don’t tell each one ’bout the others.’

  ‘He made out he loved those other girls as well?’ Lauren looked up at Wolf. ‘What a bastard.’

  Wolf stuck his hands in his pockets. ‘How could they all be taken in like that? It doesn’t sound very likely.’

  ‘Oh come on, Wolf, these are young girls we’re talking about. And this guy’s pretty handsome. Probably very persuasive. If you’re desperate, maybe you’ll believe anyone who says they’ll help you get a better life.’

  ‘Maybe. But what has all this got to do with Katti? What did those men want with her? Why did they pick you up thinking you were her?’

  ‘So this er... Zamir?’ Lauren said, turning back to Alina. ‘He’s part of a trafficking gang?’

  Alina looked up at her, puzzled.

  ‘Is it a business? Is that how he gets girls for prostitution? By telling them he loves them and getting them to come away with him?’

  Wolf slammed his fist into his palm. ‘But what has it got to do with Katti? They couldn’t expect her to fall for that.’

  Alina turned her eyes towards Wolf, like a dog unsure of its master. ‘I tell her what he done to me. But he already told her lies. She don’t believe me. I want to tell her again... other night.’ She turned her baleful eyes on Lauren. ‘When you are here. But was too late then.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Wolf said. ‘Tried to tell her what?’

  ‘That he is big liar! That he will trick her like he trick me and the others. And see? He has.’

  ‘How has
he tricked her, Alina?’ Lauren asked. ‘Is he behind the kidnapping?’

  ‘He trick Kristo too. And Viktor. Viktor will kill him.’

  ‘What has he done?’ Wolf reached down to the girl and shook her shoulder. ‘Is Zamir the kidnapper? Is he planning to white-slave Katti too? Damn him! I’ll kill him myself.’

  ‘Calm down, Wolf. Take it easy.’ Lauren put her hand on his arm to stop him wrenching Alina to her feet.

  ‘She has known about this all along. She could have said something before now.’

  ‘I don’t know for sure. I only think. I think she is with him.’ Alina slumped against the back of the chaise longue. ‘She must be with him. I see them go out together but I never see her come back.’

  ‘Why would she go out somewhere with him? Did he threaten her? What did he do?’ Wolf reached down again to pull Alina to her feet.

  ‘Wolf. You’re frightening her. She’s scared enough already.’ Lauren turned to Alina, as understanding dawned. ‘Did Katti know Zamir?

  ‘Of course. This what I’m telling you. I tell her not believe him but she think he is cute. That what she say.’ Her lips twisted downwards. ‘Pretty and cute.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Lauren.

  Wolf gazed at Alina with an expression of disgust. ‘Pretty? And cute? You mean she liked him? She –’

  ‘Yes. And he like her.’

  ‘Are you saying she was going out with him?’ Wolf went on. ‘Seeing him? Like a... like a...’

  ‘Boyfriend.’ Alina looked up sulkily. ‘Lover.’

  ‘So, she’s with him willingly?’ Lauren said, staring at the photograph in her hand.

  Alina shrugged. ‘Viktor and the others want to kidnap her for big money. They plan it. I hear them sometimes, talking.’ She sniffed. ‘They think I don’t know nothing. Think I don’t listen what they say. They are the stupid ones.’

  ‘This is all bullshit,’ Wolf said. ‘I don’t believe a word of it.’ He gestured towards the photo. ‘He’s only... what? Twenty?’

  ‘He twenty-two, Zamir.’

  ‘My sister is thirty-two.’

  ‘It has been known, Wolf,’ Lauren said dryly,. ‘for a woman to fancy a younger guy. And you said yourself she was cagey about letting you meet her new man. Now you know why.’

  ‘Where does he live? Come on, Alina, where does he live?’

  Alina slid further along the chaise. ‘I dunno. I never been there.’

  ‘Leave her alone, Wolf. For Christ’s sake.’ Lauren pushed his hand away as he reached out to grab the girl. ‘At least we know Katti’s safe. Presumably she’ll come back when she’s ready.’

  Wolf turned on her. ‘Have you gone mad? What about the ransom demand? The note? The lock of hair? The threats? Does that sound like she is safe?’

  Lauren let out a huge sigh. ‘God.’ She stood up. ‘Could she be in on it? I mean, is there any chance she might be colluding...?’ She tailed away. ‘No. Of course she isn’t. I’m clutching at straws. She wouldn’t put her mother through this.’

  Wolf ran a hand through his messy hair. ‘She might put her father through it, though.’

  ‘Do you think? No. No, she wouldn’t. She’d know her mother would be worried. And she’d have put me off coming, if she’d had that planned.’

  ‘Then he is holding her to ransom. This Zamir. And she is in danger.’ Wolf turned to Alina. ‘How long has she been seeing him?’

  Alina wiped away her tears. ‘Couple months, I think. Since I come here anyway.’ She sniffed loudly. ‘He say he love her now. He say he have better woman than me. More beautiful. More rich.’

  ‘More rich?’ spat Wolf. ‘He is after her money then. Her father’s money. He obviously cares nothing for her at all.’

  ‘Which means he could do anything,’ said Lauren. ‘The threats he’s made – about hurting her –’

  ‘Where is she? Where would he take her?’ Wolf grabbed Alina’s wrists and dragged her towards him. ‘Were does this bastard live?’

  Alina started to cry again. ‘I dunno. I dunno. I told you.’ She twisted out of his grasp and ran to the door.

  Wolf lurched after her, cornering her in the hallway.

  ‘Please lemme go. Please. Kristo will kill me.’ Alina clenched her legs as though about to wet herself.

  ‘Let her go, Wolf,’ Lauren said. ‘You can see she’s terrified. And we don’t want this Kristo guy to realise we’re onto him.’

  ‘You had better not say anything to him,’ Wolf said, letting go of Alina. ‘Mouth shut. Understand?’

  The girl scuttled out of the flat, banging the door behind her.

  ‘What if she tells him we know of their plans?’ he went on. ‘And that we are back here?’

  ‘I don’t think she will. She’s too scared that he’ll put the blame on her.’

  Lauren looked around the room. There had to be something that would give them some idea where this Zamir lived.

  Fifty-five

  Sammy closes his eyes and sees the mountains, misty in the distance. He remembers seeing them like this for the last time, when he left home. Remembers the view from the shack he was born in. It is no longer there now but he will build another one. A big house this time, a palace for his princess, for his Pussycat. They’ll live together where the eagles soar, where the mountain goats prance.

  There is an old Albanian proverb his mother used to tell him: The sun at home warms better than the sun elsewhere. He knows it to be true. He is already tired of the life he’s lived since he was seventeen; of making love to women he feels nothing for but contempt; of being at Viktor’s beck and call.

  Living in the cities – in Germany, in Italy – was exciting at first. And going back and forward to find girls. He’d enjoyed that, of course he had – it was every man’s dream. Made him feel like an international playboy. But now he’s found her, his Pussycat. He doesn’t want to keep going back to get more girls. He’s had enough of that – for now. He’s bored with it. He’s due for a break, a holiday. A honeymoon.

  Sure, when he’s rested a while, he’ll go back to work. He’ll go back willingly, refreshed. He’ll leave her in the mountains waiting for him. She can’t be contaminated by the filth of the cities.

  It isn’t only that he’s had enough of chasing after girls, either. He’s had enough of Viktor and his violence. Of Kristo and his twisted mind. They’re getting into dangerous things. He doesn’t fancy going down with them when the inevitable crash comes. They don’t pay him enough for that. And that was another thing. What was the point of slogging away making money for them, if they kept him on low pay like an employee? They treat him like a fool and he isn’t putting up with it any longer.

  He’ll go to Tirana alone and set himself up. Get away from Viktor and Kristo. He doesn’t need them now. They hold him back. But once he has the money, there will be no stopping him. He can get others to do his dirty work. Treat them the way his brothers treat him. He’ll be the main man, the big shot. And back at home, in the mountains, she’ll be waiting. His princess, his Pussycat.

  He wants to relax for a while. Needs to. Needs to play music and smoke dope, make love and watch the sun rise on the mountains. He remembers another of his mother’s proverbs: Patience is the key to paradise.

  Well, he’s been patient. But he’s waited long enough. Now he must turn that key.

  Fifty-six

  Lauren squeezed past the old chaise longue and went over to a wooden bureau. ‘Let’s have a look around. See if we can find anything. There’s got to be something about this Zamir guy, somewhere.’

  She scooped up the papers that fell forward when she folded the desktop down, and dumped them on the big table. There were more documents slotted into the pigeonholes and she brought these out as well and put them in separate piles.

  ‘There’s a bottle of wine open in the fridge from the other night,’ she said. ‘How about pouring a couple of glasses while I go through this lot, Wolf?’ She quickly pulled out any printed matter – theatre han
dbills, take-a-way menus, leaflets advertising yoga classes and watercolour painting and suchlike. Giving them a quick check over to make sure there were no phone numbers scribbled on them, she tapped them into a neat pile and put them to one side.

  Scraps of paper came next. ‘Thanks,’ she said as Wolf put a glass down on top of a postcard from Sardinia. Most of the scrappy bits of paper had phone numbers scrawled on them. Some had names. Some didn’t. She put all the unattributed numbers in one pile and looked through the others. There was no mention of a Zamir on any of them.

  There were several letters – Lauren divided them into official and personal. She passed the official ones to Wolf to look through while she scanned the return names and addresses and also checked the signatures on the personal ones. None were from a Zamir and she hadn’t expected them to be. They were both living in Nuremberg. Why would he need to write to her? She also checked the two or three postcards including the one acting as a coaster under her wine glass, but again had no luck.

  Wolf threw down the official letters. ‘Results of a smear test,’ he said. ‘Last year. Negative. Something about tax codes. One from the electricity suppliers. Couple of old credit card bills. Nothing from our friend Zamir.’

  ‘Same here.’ Lauren took a sip of her wine. Then another sip, then a long draught. ‘What’s left?’ She rummaged around in the pile of papers. Business cards – plumber, upholsterer, a couple of graphic artists – probably friends, a pencil drawing of a man – Lauren scrutinised it but couldn’t make it look like the Zamir in the photo, a matchbook from a café – The Meisengeige, writing paper, stamps, odd paperclips and elastic bands that had got caught up in the pile, a birthday card – blank, a sheet of sparkly stick-on butterflies for decorating envelopes. Nothing that said or suggested Zamir. ‘Doesn’t Katti have an address book?’

  Wolf looked up from a leaflet that said: Access Your Right Brain! One Day Only!

  ‘Yes. I am sure she does. A red velvet thing. With a tassel.’

  Lauren drummed her fingers. ‘She must have it with her.’ There was nothing by the phone, nothing lying anywhere obvious. She put all the separate piles of papers back into the desk, keeping out the few torn scraps with phone numbers on them. ‘We could go through these. Ring them all.’