by Simon Toyne
The capitals couldn’t have been more emphatic.
CALL ME AND I’LL EXPLAIN
She thought of the warning she had received last night, before the crash and the gunfire.
Liv stood stock still. She could hear the trickle of shower water, the splash of whoever was in the pool and the hum of air conditioning overhead, but nothing else. No approaching footsteps. No muffled conversations in the corridor. But she suddenly had the feeling that someone was in the room with her, standing behind the wall that divided the changing area from the main door, listening to her movements.
She slipped the phone in her pocket and pulled on a pair of white gym socks.
I think it’s best that you stay under our protection. .
Arkadian had said that before packing her off with her chaperone.
Police protection. Her brother hadn’t benefited too well from it, had he?
She laced her grubby trainers over the pristine socks. The dark blue sweat-top swamped her slender frame. It too had POLICE emblazoned across it. She glanced once more towards the door then scooped up her ink-stained newspaper and headed in the other direction, past the still-dripping showers towards the pool.
The air in the pool enclosure was warm and damp and scraped the back of Liv’s throat with chlorine fingers as she made her way around its edge towards the fire exit. A slash of morning sunlight had somehow found its way through the crush of surrounding buildings and sparkled on the surface of the pale blue water.
Liv pushed down on the horizontal locking bar. A high-pitched siren echoed through the building. She pushed it closed behind her, killing the alarm as suddenly as it had started. The swimmer didn’t look up, just carried on doing steady lengths, sending glittering reflections across the white painted walls.
Sulley was on the phone to a news producer. The warning only sounded for a few seconds but it snapped him to attention.
‘Listen,’ he whispered, ‘I’ll have to call you back.’
He approached the entrance to the ladies’ locker room, the soles of his shoes squeaking against the shiny vinyl floor. Women. Jesus. She’d been in there for a lifetime. He listened for the sound of the shower. Heard nothing. Knocked gently.
‘Miss Adamsen?’ He pushed the door open far enough to poke his head through.
No reply. There was a partition just inside, so he couldn’t see a thing.
‘Miss Adamsen?’ A little louder this time. ‘You OK in there?’ Still nothing.
He peered around the corner. Apart from a small pile of dirty clothes and a wet towel, the place was empty. Sulley felt a hot flush rising under his shirt, turning his pale flesh pink. ‘Miss Adamsen?’
He looked left. All four toilet cubicle doors were wide open.
He whipped back round to the showers.
Empty.
Moving on through, he found himself in the brightly lit chemical fug of the pool area. He squinted at the swimmer, hoping it was her; saw the short black hair and police issue swimsuit he hadn’t given her, knew it was not. He spotted the fire exit and felt his throat go dry. He jogged towards it. The moment he pushed it open and the alarm sounded he realized what had happened.
Outside, the street was teeming in both directions; people in suits, tourists in casual leisurewear. He searched amongst them for a dark blue, police-issue sweat-top. He saw nothing. The door swung shut behind him and the alarm stopped shrieking. His phone started vibrating in his hand and he glanced down at it, anxious in case it was Arkadian calling for an update. The number was withheld.
‘Hello?’
A white transit pulled up beside him.
‘Hello,’ the driver replied.
Chapter 79
Liv threaded her way through the crowds. She had no idea where she was heading but knew she had to stay out of sight and put as much distance between herself and the district building as possible while she got her head together. She pulled the hood of her new sweat-top over her wet hair and fell in step with a group of women, staying close enough for it to look like she was with them. At this time of day most people on the streets were tourists. Her clothes would have stood out a mile bobbing along in a river of suits and she hadn’t seen many blonde locals.
Street sellers energetically offered their wares to the passing trade, mostly ethnic copper trinkets and rolled-up rugs, and ahead of her a newsstand rose up in the middle of the pavement, parting the flow of people like an island in a stream. Liv glanced at the front pages as she drifted past; every one carried a picture of her brother. She felt the emotion rise up inside her again, but not grief now — more anger. There were too many question marks surrounding his death to waste any more time trying to solve word puzzles. She felt partly responsible for setting her brother on his tragic course, but something else had driven him to take his own life, and she owed it to him to find out what.
She looked up and saw the Citadel soaring above the bobbing heads of the tourists, everyone moving slowly towards it, pulled by its gravity like leaves towards a whirlpool. She felt drawn too, for entirely different reasons, but for now it would have to wait. It cost twenty lira to enter the old town, she’d read it in the guidebook, and at the moment all she had was a few dollars to her name.
She took her cell phone from her pocket, opened her last text message and punched call-back.
The van eased its way down the street. Sulley sat by the door, next to the guy who was sweating like it was mid-summer. The big guy with the patchy beard drove. All three watched the street in silence.
Sulley hadn’t wanted to get in with them. Selling information was one thing, being directly involved in what was obviously going to be a kidnapping was way off the scale. He couldn’t be doing this. It was criminal, for God’s sake. It was jeopardizing everything. But the big man with the melted face had been insistent. And because Sulley didn’t want to stand outside the district building having a lengthy conversation, he’d got in.
He looked out of the window scanning the crowds for a flash of the girl’s blonde hair or the white lettering on the dark blue sweat-top, hoping he wouldn’t see either. Back at the station he’d catch heat for losing her, but that kind of heat he could handle. It would be a whole lot better than finding her with these guys.
‘Got her!’ The sweaty guy in the middle of the bench seat angled the screen of the finder towards the driver. He studied it for a beat then looked ahead to where the road curved left and a wide paved area stretched beyond a barrier of concrete bollards; a no-car zone where the antiquated buildings had been hollowed out and turned into chain stores. It was packed with people. ‘She’s in there,’ he said.
Sulley scanned the area as the van drew nearer. Saw a group of tourists walking away from them. One was wearing a dark blue sweat-top. The crowd parted slightly just before they disappeared behind a newsstand and he glimpsed POLICE printed on the back of it. The driver saw it too. ‘We’ll drive round to the other end, where it rejoins the road.’ He stopped by the kerb. ‘Go get her.’
Sulley felt a cold panic rise up inside him.
‘You lost her in the first place,’ the driver said. ‘She’s less likely to run from you.’
Sulley opened and closed his mouth like a fish as his eyes flicked between the driver’s cold blue gaze and the puckered burn scar on his cheek. He wasn’t the kind of guy you could argue with, so he didn’t try. He opened the door, slipped out on to the pavement, and headed to where he’d last seen the girl.
Chapter 80
The phone clicked in Liv’s ear.
‘Hello?’
‘You sent me a warning,’ Liv said. ‘Who are you?’
There was the briefest of pauses. Ordinarily she wouldn’t have noticed it; now it made her instantly suspicious.
‘A friend,’ the woman replied. ‘Where are you now?’
Liv continued to drift with the tourist tide, felt the comforting press of other ordinary, straightforward human beings around her. ‘Why would I tell you that?’
‘Because we can prot
ect you. Because there are people looking for you right now. People who want to silence you. Liv, there’s no easy way of saying this. These people want to kill you. .’
Liv hesitated, somehow more unsettled by the sudden intimacy of the woman using her name than by the announcement that someone wanted her dead.
‘Who wants to kill me?’
‘Ruthless, formidable people. They want to silence you because they think your brother shared knowledge with you; knowledge that no one is supposed to have.’
Liv glanced down at the letters scrawled across the newspaper in her hand. ‘I don’t know anything,’ she said.
‘It doesn’t matter to them. If they think you know something, that’s enough. They risked taking you at the airport. They also stole your brother’s body because of it and they’ll keep looking for you until they find you. They don’t take chances.’ The woman let the statement hang in the air for a beat before continuing in a softer tone. ‘If you tell me where you are, I can send someone to bring you to a safe place. The same man I sent to protect you last night.’
‘Gabriel?’
‘Yes,’ Kathryn replied. ‘He’s with us. He was sent to look out for you. He did look out for you. Tell me where you are and I’ll send him to you.’
Liv wanted to trust her, but she needed time to think before she could allow herself to trust anyone else right now. Apart from the borrowed clothes on her back, all she had was her few dollars in change, a phone that was about to run out of battery, and yesterday’s copy of a local newspaper. She looked at it now. Saw her brother’s face staring out at her from a halo of scrawled letters and symbols. Realized something. Twisted the paper round and read the small print on the back page.
‘I’ll call you back,’ she said.
Sulley moved past the newsstand.
The girl was less than fifty feet in front of him. He jostled through the slow-moving crowd, gradually closing the gap between them, still not quite sure what he was going to do when he got to her. He thought about simply turning round and making his way back to the district building. But if he did, the guy in the van could rat him out; an anonymous tip giving the name of the person who’d been leaking information with copies of the files as proof. He’d been careful to cover his tracks — but even so. If they could link the monk’s disappearance with him, he’d be looking at some heavy shit: compromising an ongoing investigation, perverting the course of justice, selling privileged information. He could go to prison — every police officer’s worst nightmare.
So he kept on walking, keeping the crowd between him and the girl in case she looked round and saw him. Standard surveillance procedure. As he closed in on her he thought about just telling her to run, then disappear himself until all this blew over.
He fixed his eyes on the dark blue hood and walked a little faster. Just ten feet away now.
Five.
He was almost upon her when he saw the white van pull to a stop at the far end of the pedestrian street, trapping her like a rat in a drainpipe. There was no way she could get away now. No way either of them could. He had to go through with it.
He slowed, allowing the distance between them to lengthen again as the flow of people took her closer to the van. He didn’t want to drag her further than was absolutely necessary. Up ahead he saw the big man with the beard step out of the van and move round to open the rear doors. They were only ten feet away now. He stepped forward. Reached out to grab her. Noticed the other guy inside the van frowning at the notebook then looking up and shaking his head.
Too late.
His freckled hand landed on the girl’s shoulder and he spun her round.
‘Hey!’ She twisted out of his grip.
Sulley looked at the shocked face framed in the blue hood. It wasn’t the girl.
‘Sorry,’ Sulley said, jerking his hand away like he’d touched a live cable. ‘I thought you were. .’
He pointed at the POLICE sweatshirt. ‘Where did you get this?’
The girl glared at him. He dug out his badge and watched the defiance vanish.
She pointed back in the direction they’d come. ‘I swapped it with some girl.’
Sulley followed her outstretched arm. Saw nothing but a mass of strangers. ‘How long ago?’
She shrugged. ‘Couple of minutes.’
‘What did you swap it for?’
‘Just another sweatshirt.’
‘Could you describe it?’
The girl raised her palms. ‘White. Kind of. . washed out. Bit worn at the sleeves.’
In the midday warmth most of those filling the street had now dispensed with their coats and jackets; more than half were wearing something white. With his back still turned to the van, Sulley allowed himself a smile.
Nice work, missy, he thought to himself. Nice work indeed.
Chapter 81
Liv walked out of the tourist information office and headed against the flow of people, which bothered her slightly, back in the direction of the police building, which bothered her more.
She checked the free map she’d been given, tracing different routes to the street circled in black felt pen. She could have chosen a more circuitous route, but it would take longer and she was already on borrowed time. She’d just have to risk it. She pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the screen. The battery icon was empty. She pressed the speed-dial key anyway, praying there’d still be enough power to make one call.
‘It wasn’t her,’ Kutlar said, before the policeman had a chance to speak. He wanted to remind Cornelius of his usefulness.
‘No, it wasn’t,’ the officer said, leaning in through the open window. ‘She switched to a plain white top. The girl she swapped with couldn’t say which direction she was headed.’
Cornelius started up the engine. ‘Get in,’ he said.
The policeman shuffled uncertainly, pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. ‘You know I should probably — ’
‘Get in,’ Cornelius repeated.
He got in.
Kutlar glanced at the screen and started to relax a little. Knowing what the girl looked like was the only thing keeping him alive right now. Having the policeman tag along made him nervous because he knew what she looked like too. The sooner he split the better.
The van moved off, jarring Kutlar’s leg again on the uneven road.
He hit return and the hourglass icon appeared as the system reached out for the girl’s signal.
Chapter 82
The ringing tone kicked in as Liv passed a street stall selling freshly made flat breads. The thick, hot smell of roasted spices and onions reminded her how long it had been since she’d had anything substantial to eat. The sun beat down on the bone-coloured flagstones and buildings that all looked like churches.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ the familiar voice yelled. Rawls Baker, owner and editor of the New Jersey Inquirer, was not one of life’s whisperers. ‘You’d better be calling to file copy on that birth story; I got a hole in the lifestyle section you could drive a truck through.’
‘Listen Rawls, I — ’
‘Don’t give me excuses. Just give me that story.’
‘Rawls, I haven’t written it.’
There was a moment’s pause. ‘Well, you’d better start writing it right this — ’
‘What’s the story on the front page of the Inquirer this morning?’ she asked, before he could launch into a full-blown roasting.
‘What the hell’s that got to do with anything?’
‘Just answer the question.’
‘The monk. Same as every other paper.’
‘He was my brother.’
The phone went silent.
‘You’re shitting me!’
‘I’m in Ruin now; I flew in this morning. There’s something strange going on here. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something big. I’m in the middle of it and I need your help.’
The silence flooded back. She could picture him in his office, staring out at the
river, calculating how much an exclusive might be worth. Her phone beeped loudly in her ear and for a moment she thought she’d been disconnected. Then Rawls’s voice rumbled back through the ether. ‘What do you need?’
‘I’m heading towards the offices of a local newspaper called Itaat Eden Kimse. I want you to call ahead and get them to kit me out with some petty cash, a notebook and some pens. Maybe the loan of a desk for a few hours.’
‘No problem.’ She heard the scratch of Rawls’s pen. ‘Just don’t go sharing anything valuable with them. Remember who’s signing your paycheque. Tell them you’re writing a travel piece or something.’
‘OK,’ she said. The low-battery signal beeped in her ear again. ‘My cell’s about to die. Can you see if they can hook me up with a charger as well?’ She gave him the make and model, but there was only silence at his end of the line.
The screen was blank. She slipped it back into her pocket. Looked back up the road. Saw a vehicle approaching.
Chapter 83
‘Over there. .’ Kutlar pointed at a group of people eating stuffed flatbreads from a food stall but kept his eyes on the screen. Cornelius turned towards them. Sulley’s door was open almost before they came to a stop. ‘I’ll look around,’ he said, and slammed it back shut with a pungent cloud of spices and onions. Kutlar glanced up from the screen. He watched the policeman hitching up his trousers and scanning the crowd.
‘You see her?’ Cornelius said.
Kutlar scrutinized the mass of faces on both sides of the street. ‘No,’ he said finally. The smell of the food made him feel nauseous.
Cornelius took the notebook from him. The street map was frozen, the arrow at the centre pointing at the place they were now parked. The side column showed the last number she had called and an hourglass icon spun slowly next to it as the system searched through the networks, hunting it down.
Kutlar glanced in the side mirror. The policeman was now talking to the stallholder and helping himself to some food. His stomach lurched and he looked away. Thanks to the brutal oneway system it had taken them nearly five minutes to get here. He could have done it in half the time, but the sat-nav had sent them along busy main roads and he’d had no desire to challenge it. The longer they kept looking for her, the more chance he’d have of working his way out of this situation.