by Alex Barclay
‘Oh, for God’s sake—’ said Domenica. ‘Where is this going?’
Shut up. Ren spoke to Gavino. ‘Your mother will listen to you, Gavino. She will.’ Ren looked at Domenica, willing her to see. Really see what’s going on here.
Domenica looked confused.
You don’t control the room now, bitch.
‘Go on, Gavino,’ said Domenica.
‘My father noticed I was alive and started to involve me in things,’ said Gavino. ‘And so did you.’ He pointed at his mother. ‘And I liked being given a shit about. I really did. And then I fucked up. I broke his remote-control Ferrari. I stood on a toy car. And Augusto gave me the beating of my life. Mother just ignored me completely – worse than before. If you can actually ignore someone in degrees, that’s what she did. I was eleven years old.’ His shoulders slumped. ‘I will never forget that feeling.’ He paused. ‘It wasn’t what you think: I wasn’t feeling rejected or unloved. I was thinking “I am a freak of nature. I am the product of these two terrible people.”’ He spaced out for a moment.
‘Did you know that Ted Bundy had a child?’ said Gavino. ‘He got married when he was on Death Row and had a child with his new wife. Somewhere out there is a girl whose father is a serial killer and whose mother was a fucked-up bitch who wanted to marry a serial killer. How would that make you feel? But I kind of know how that could make you feel or what that could make you do. That could make you, at eleven years old, go into some shitty-ass barn, pick up a knife and…’ Tears filled his eyes. ‘I knew where babies came from…and I knew that I never wanted to—’
Holy shit. No.
Domenica’s hand shot to her mouth. ‘Did you…oh my God…you didn’t…’
Ren turned to her, amazed. How can you not know the answer to that, you crazy bitch?
‘I started,’ said Gavino. ‘I did enough that I still…but there was so much blood, I passed out. When I woke up, I was bandaged in my bed. And one of the compound wives was sitting beside me.’
‘Where was I?’ said Domenica. Her voice had shrunk away.
‘Oh my God, who cares where you were?’ said Gavino. ‘Don’t you see? There was no point to you any more after that. Apart from making me get obsessed with the future of the fucking universe if I was in it. So for years, I wanted to die, I just wanted to die, but I was too chickenshit. Then last year, I go flash some stolen money about and you go ballistic. And the big irony is that I was trying to impress the chicks – the only way I know how. Some guys get girls drunk, so they can have sex with them. I need to get them drunk enough not to notice my…problem. I can turn off the lights, tell the girl she’s too drunk, and that I have too much respect for her to take advantage of that. Then at least I have something, I have someone beside me, even if it’s only for a few hours.’ He glanced at Ren as if she was the last person who had ever been beside him.
Ren’s heart flipped. Oh, Gavino, you poor boy. He looked young and raw and heartbreaking.
‘Now,’ said Gavino. ‘It turns out that all those however many years being tortured, being in agony every day, none of that shit needed to have happened. If you—’ he stabbed a finger at Domenica ‘—had told me the truth, that you had hand-picked a man to be my father because of his genes. Do you have any idea what it was like to hear that? James Laker – good-looking, intelligent, kind, an athlete. I mean, it’s ridiculous. I’m half of that. I’m not half of Augusto Val Pando. Where is he now, Mother? He is as useful to you as you were to me that day in the barn.’
Gavino raised the gun. ‘I want this so bad, it aches,’ he said. He pointed it at Domenica.
Don’t do it. Do not do it. Live your life. Live your life.
56
‘Please, no,’ said Domenica, falling to her knees. ‘Santa Maria—’
‘Who do you think is listening to your prayers?’ said Gavino. He walked over to her and pulled her up by the hair. She screamed.
‘Stand up, stand up, you bitch.’
Domenica stood in front of him. Gavino was six inches taller than her. He brought his arm up and put the barrel of the gun into her mouth. ‘I want this so bad,’ he said. He smiled. ‘But do you know what I want more?’ He looked around.
Ren stood, rooted. Please not me. I did love you. I did not want to abandon you. I had no choice. Please not me.
Images exploded from somewhere in the dark attic where she had buried them; wide-eyed Gavino, holding her hand, singing nursery rhymes…images that seemed so starkly innocent against the backdrop of Domenica’s world.
Please do not do this.
‘I loved you so much,’ he said to Ren.
Oh, God.
Ren’s heart started to thump. She knew her eyes were giving away her fear.
‘And do you know what?’ said Gavino. ‘That’s never really gone away. I still love you.’ He pushed his mother to the floor. ‘Because what you were doing to us, well, you were just doing your job. Your job was to destroy her business. But when it came to me, you were not doing your job – you were doing the opposite of that. You were just being you. Your job was not to betray a seven-year-old child, was it?’
Ren shook her head. ‘No.’
‘You were being kind,’ said Gavino. ‘You just couldn’t help it. You couldn’t stand by and watch how they treated me. You really cared for me.’
‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘I did. But I shouldn’t have let myself…because I always knew I would have to leave. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s true, though – it is better that I have loved and lost,’ said Gavino.
He looked at Ren. ‘Can you come over here?’
Ren walked towards him. Gavino stood facing her, the gun in his hand. He stared at her, his pupils huge, his eyes filled with tears. He took a step towards her and reached out his arms.
Oh, God. You’re not going to kill anyone. Ren put her arms around him, held his shaking body. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘Thank you for everything.’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Ren. ‘It’s OK.’ She stroked his back. ‘Everything’s going to be OK. I can help you now. I’ll do anything I can to help you.’
‘What do you want more?’ said Domenica, getting up from the floor. ‘What did you mean when you said that there was something you wanted more?’
Gavino pulled back from Ren and looked over her shoulder at his mother. ‘I meant that I don’t want to kill you. I could do that right now. But instead, I imagine you sitting at a table beside some defense attorney who has crumbled under the weight of all the documents the prosecution has, signed by one of the best witnesses they could have – the son of the accused. Detailed accounts of the life and works of Domenica Val Pando. A mountain.’
Domenica’s face was a mess of emotions.
He’s got you, Domenica. We’ve got you. You. Are. Done.
‘Your father is dead,’ said Domenica.
They both looked at her. Gavino walked over to her and shoved his face into hers. ‘Nice try. But I’m still not going to shoot you.’ Gavino put the gun back in his pocket. He turned to Ren. ‘You can do the rest, right?’
Ren cuffed Domenica. ‘Gavino, give me the gun.’
He shook his head. ‘Not until she’s gone.’
‘Gavino, I am not walking away from you while you have a gun. That’s just not going to happen.
‘Don’t you trust me?’ he said. He looked so hurt.
‘Of course I trust you,’ said Ren.
‘He’ll kill me if we turn our backs on him. He will kill me,’ said Domenica.
And?
‘I’m doing the worst thing that I can possibly do to someone like you,’ said Gavino. ‘Killing you would get you off the hook.’
‘Gavino…’ said Ren. ‘Just walk with me.’
He shook his head. ‘I want to see her go.’ He paused. ‘Is there anyone here – do you have back-up?’
Ren nodded.
Domenica suddenly bucked against the restraints and slammed her heel hard against Ren’s shin. Ren half-buckled. Gavi
no caught his mother by the arm and yanked her forward, dragging her toward the door. Ren followed, gripping Domenica’s wrists tightly, pulling them up too high for her to risk the pain of moving.
‘I’ll walk with you,’ said Gavino. ‘I’ll wait by the door. But…I couldn’t bear you to be the one who has to take me away. Can you send one of your colleagues instead…?’
‘Sure,’ said Ren. ‘Not a problem. You are going to be OK, Gavino. I’ll get you help. And…I’ll ask my friend Robbie to come get you. He’s right outside.’
Ren pushed through the door. Gary and Colin moved toward Domenica. Ren pushed her their way. She turned to Robbie. ‘Could you go get Gavino? He’s—’
Hold on a second. Why had Gavino prepared a whole stack of documents? Why wouldn’t he just testify in court? He could do it by video. He didn’t need to – Oh no. Oh shit, no.
Ren turned back to the door, reached out her hand. The blast was deafening, instantly ringing in her ears. Oh my God. She was about to push the door in. Please, let this be something else. Gavino’s last sentence hit her: ‘Can you send one of your colleagues instead?’
Oh, God.
Ren stopped. She leaned against the wall, her head hanging. Robbie and Cliff had rushed past her through the door. Robbie had stood against it on the other side. Ren looked up. His back was blocking the window.
‘Who’s back there?’ said another agent, running up to Ren. ‘We had people at all the exits. We searched the building.’
‘Gavino Val Pando,’ said Ren. ‘He’s alone.’ She turned and walked away from another room that held another tragic death behind its door.
57
When Ren got back to the office, there was an email waiting for her: the legal attaché in Prague asking her to call urgently. She Googled the time zone – it was eight a.m. The leegat answered the phone right away. Ren listened and took notes. She thanked him and put down the phone. She let her head fall to the desk and said a prayer. She didn’t know if Daryl Stroud would want to be disturbed at three in the morning, but she didn’t care.
When he answered, she could hear the sound of his bedclothes brushing against the receiver.
‘Daryl, it’s Ren. I just got a call from Prague. This could be it.’ She waited for it to register.
‘Ren? OK…go ahead.’
‘They’ve got a Jakub Kral, now sixty-one years old, convicted pedophile who was released from a Czech prison in 1978, which means he was a free man in 1981, the year Louis Parry disappeared. He worked as a roadie – if that’s the word – for the orchestra. Kral was back inside again from ’82 to ’87 and ’89 to ’93. He’s been a free man since then, but as of two hours ago is sitting in a cell in Prague awaiting questioning.’
Ren could hear Daryl readjust his position in the bed. ‘Jesus, Ren. Let’s hope it’s him.’
‘And let’s hope he remembers Louis Parry,’ said Ren.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m sorry for calling so late,’ she said.
‘Don’t worry about it. I know how much it means.’
Ren put down the phone. She expected that the Czech authorities were currently listening to the sound of silence. What had Kral to gain by admitting to crimes he had gotten away with almost thirty years earlier? He would claim he was being victimized by the police, he would talk about his human rights, the fact that he was a changed man, the fact that he was in his sixties now, an old, broken man. The usual bullshit.
Ren let out a deep breath. Please, God. Please let him be the one. And please let him own up to that.
The next morning, an update came in on the Sarvas case. Gary was about to make the call, but Ren told him no. ‘I’ll do it,’ she said. ‘Continuity of care, remember?’
Ren went straight to her desk and dialed the number. Catherine Sarvas answered on the first ring.
‘Catherine, they’ve found Michael,’ said Ren. ‘And I’m afraid the news is not good. He passed away yesterday.’
Catherine let out a terrible moan. ‘What happened to him?’
‘He was in Tijuana. He was found by two young boys…he had collapsed on the street. He had a bacterial infection from a contaminated needle.’
‘Needle?’ said Catherine.
‘I’m afraid so,’ said Ren. ‘That’s what the cartels do. Get people hooked on drugs.’
Through her sobs, Catherine’s voice turned to ice. ‘Greg did this. My husband did all this.’
Ren left Catherine Sarvas to her grief. She put the phone down gently and rested her head on the desk. After a minute, she looked up.
‘Imagine your son is missing eight months and you hear that he died,’ she said. ‘But that it happened the day before – you don’t hear he was killed as soon as he was abducted or four months later. You are told, “Your son died yesterday.” He would feel within reach. It would have to make you feel like you could have done something or that you could still do something. That would fuck with my head. And also that it was your husband’s fault.’
‘Catherine Sarvas, right?’ said Cliff.
‘But how could you not know what your husband is doing?’ said Ren. ‘Wouldn’t you see papers lying around? Didn’t he talk about his work? Wouldn’t you know? I mean, Gregory Sarvas got up in the morning, ate breakfast with his wife and sons, drove them to school, came home, went downstairs to his home office – hello? – and worked as an accountant and lawyer for a top Mexican cartel. How could you be so out of touch with your husband’s job?’
‘I’d say she knew,’ said Colin.
‘But she didn’t,’ said Ren. ‘She had no idea. You should have seen her face. It was awful. Hey – I’m just flying in here from Denver to tell you that your husband was a liar, oh, and he clearly didn’t give a shit about you or your kids and whoops, he sucked you all into one of the most dangerous situations on the planet—’
Colin looked up. ‘Ren, stop trying to put yourself in other people’s positions: that whole “God, if it was me, I’d…” thing. It’s not you, it’s never you, and you don’t know how you’d react until you’re in a situation.’
‘Woo,’ said Ren. ‘No, I don’t.’
‘So…Gregory Sarvas was lying about one part of his life. It sounds like he was a good husband to this woman, right? She loved him, right?’
‘Yes, but how could she not be—’
‘Maybe that’s all that mattered to her,’ said Colin. ‘That she had a husband who loved her and was good to her. Not every woman is so lucky.’
Ren shook her head slowly. ‘Oh my God. Have you ever had a conversation with a woman that didn’t begin and end with “Nice rack”?’
Colin said nothing.
‘You have no clue,’ said Ren. ‘Please – stay away from women.’ She called out. ‘Run, Naomi, run. Save yourself!’
‘El Coyote Panzón,’ said Cliff, drumming his fingers on the table.
‘Funny, isn’t it?’ said Ren. ‘Gregory Sarvas wasn’t who his wife and children thought he was. He wasn’t who we thought he was. He didn’t even work as a coyote. He was good, very good.’ She paused. ‘He was fat, though. The big guy with the gray hair and the big beard that reminded someone somewhere of a coyote.’
‘I don’t get how it worked,’ said Robbie. ‘Sarvas was lawyer for the Puente cartel.’
‘Yes,’ said Ren, ‘He knew everything inside out, how the business worked, who the players were, blah blah blah. So he could also see the vast amounts of money coming through. He’s obviously being paid a small fortune to do this job, but it’s nothing compared to what he could be making. He lines up Domenica Val Pando, who’s been sniffing around; he’s seen what she’s done before, but knowing her mistakes he knows how she can avoid making them again. He recruited Domenica Val Pando, not the other way around.
‘But at the same time, Sarvas had hooked up with the Mexican authorities, planning to get safely out the back door of the Puentes – under their protection. The authorities think Sarvas is on their side, but his only interest is in disman
tling the cartel. Because waiting in the wings is his very own operation with Domenica Val Pando, who will keep it running in his absence. He does the front-of-house good-guy shit.
‘The problem with these cartels is that, as soon as the authorities chop off one head, a new head grows back – an uglier one. The rest of the drones scuttle off into the darkness, then come out again and regroup. They may have learned some lessons, they may not, but no matter what, things will have to change and the cops are going to have to start looking at them again from scratch. I mean, what else can they do, but arrest and jail the kingpins? It’s just that there are queenpins and jackpins and straightpins…’
‘So,’ said Robbie, ‘Sarvas is getting out of one cartel knowing exactly how it operates. He quietly sets up his own organization to rival it and has all the inside information he could possibly need to beat them—’
‘Yup,’ said Ren. ‘I mean, he may have decided that would be enough, that that would be all he needed to trump them. But I’d say when things got really intense down there over the past few years, he went for overkill – trying to bring the Puente cartel down and get rid of the competition before he even started trading, selling them out and setting himself up as the good guy to the authorities.’
‘What was he thinking?’ said Colin.
‘That he was invincible, that he was smarter than any of them,’ said Ren.
‘Why would Domenica want to play second fiddle to Gregory Sarvas?’ said Colin. ‘I mean, whatever about agreeing to it – realistically, could she follow through?’
‘He was a mine of information,’ said Ren. ‘He effectively had eleven years on her – so much had changed while she’d been gone. He knew how everything worked along the border. And he had a list of the players living in the pockets of the kingpins.’
Colin shook his head. ‘He was crazy to think he could get away with that.’