With the throwaway still alight, Keira lifted the envelope and held the corner of it over the naked flame until it caught.
As the pale blue flames rose towards the top corner Keira placed what was left in the ashtray and watched the envelope burn to black. ‘I have all the help I need, thank you.’ She took a long drag on the cigarette then stubbed the rest out in the ashtray, crumbling what was left of the envelope into ash.
Keira started to pack her things back into her purse. ‘You can keep the money.’
‘I have a friend who lives in Dushk,’ said Ardiana.
Keira stopped what she was doing. ‘So.’
‘She was there when the men came to kill the girl’s parents.’
‘In the house?’
‘No, she lives in the village. She heard the shots and saw the police cars.’
‘The police were there?’
‘Of course.’
‘You sure about that?’
‘Is what she told me.’
‘Does she know the family?’
‘She knew the mother. She knows of the boy.’
‘Knows where he is?’
Ardiana shrugged. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Can I meet her?’
‘She says the police came, but there was no mention of the killings on the news or in the papers. There was a rumour that the Clan were involved and this has made everyone afraid to speak of it.’
‘So, can I meet her?’ repeated Keira.
‘She will talk to you, but I have to come with you. She does not want to get involved and you must promise not to bring the police or tell them that you have met her. She will also want to be paid. It doesn’t have to be much, but something, at least. I will give you my address. If you want to go see her, you will come to my apartment at nine o’clock tomorrow morning and I will take you there. You have car?’
‘Yes.’
‘It is okay I can drive?’
‘I guess so.’
‘Did you understand everything what I just said?’
‘I did.’
‘You still don’t want any more shit?’
‘If you’re up to your waist wading through it, you might as well be up to your neck swimming in it.’
Ten
Keira drove in a low gear through the multi-storey valley of concrete apartments looking for Ardiana’s building. A watchful cur padded in front of the car before disappearing behind an overflowing set of wheelie bins nestling in the shade of a tall palm tree. When she spotted – on a brick gatepost – the dark-blue ceramic with the figure eight painted in white, Keira pulled over to the kerb and cut the engine.
Ardiana’s apartment was situated on the top floor of the shabby pink-painted block in front of her.
The stray followed Keira with a fixed stare until she’d entered the building before returning its attentions to the scraps of food that had tumbled onto the pavement next to the bins.
The apartment was small and cramped. There was one bedroom off the hall, a kitchenette and a lounge with an L-shaped sofa and double bed squeezed into the tight floor space. The lounge looked like a scrapyard for clothes and shoes.
Ardiana stood framed in the kitchen doorway hand on hip, cigarette hanging from her bottom lip. Either Ardiana didn’t feel the need to tidy up or she hadn’t expected Keira to come to the door. She was still in her underwear: a few threads of lace and embroidery designed for show rather than anything practical.
Clearing a space on the red cotton sofa, she offered Keira a coffee. ‘I don’t have any milk. D’you take sugar?’
‘No thanks,’ replied Keira.
‘Good; got no sugar either.’
‘Do you have coffee?’
Ardiana shot Keira a look, like it was too early in the morning for wisecracks.
‘Am I early?’ asked Keira, taking in her surroundings.
‘You’re not early; I’m late.’
‘D’you mind if I use the bathroom?’
‘Go ahead. The cistern doesn’t flush properly, you have to hold the handle down and wait for the water to come through. Sometimes it’s better to do that before you’ve finished: it can take a while.’ Ardiana pointed to a door near the front entrance. ‘Toilet’s there!’
‘When’s Fat-Joe Jesus coming?’ said Keira over her shoulder as she headed into the hall.
‘He’s not! My friend she doesn’t want Fatjo to know where she lives and Saturday’s his day off anyway. Just you and me, but don’t worry, we don’t have to talk.’
When Keira returned from the bathroom, Ardiana was standing by the front door dressed and ready to go. She’d finished her make-up and pulled a crop-top denim jacket over her white, embroidered linen blouse. Ardiana handed Keira an espresso cup, full of coffee. ‘Where did you park? You have to park in a bay.’
‘I didn’t see any bays. I just parked on the street at the front of the block.’
‘Drink up. If the police see you’re not in a bay they’ll give you a ticket. They take your plates off. You get an even bigger fine if they catch you driving around with no plates. So you’ve got no choice – you have to go to the station and pay the ‘fine’. Trick is, to pretend you’ve got no money, sometimes they let you away with it, but if you’re a tourist they’ll rip you off for double.’
Keira downed the coffee and handed the cup back to Ardiana. ‘D’you live here on your own?’
‘Is my place, yeah.’
Ardiana gulped back her coffee then placed both cups on the side table in the hall. She fished around in her bag for a set of keys and pulled the front door closed as they stepped out into the communal hallway.
*
While Keira scanned the deserted street Ardiana checked under the front of the car before climbing into the driver’s side. ‘We’ve still got plates.’
‘Where are the bays?’ asked Keira.
‘There are no bays. That’s how the assholes get you.’
Keira strapped herself into the passenger seat and handed Ardiana the car keys. ‘If we crash, I’ll pretend to be you. You can pretend to be me. You’re not insured.’
‘We crash, nobody’s going to pay up anyway, except you,’ replied Ardiana.
Before turning the ignition she pulled a bright pink headscarf from her bag then leant over to place the bag in the footwell in front of Keira. ‘When we get closer I need you to put this on,’ she said handing her the scarf, ‘like it’s a blindfold.’
*
Because it was the weekend, the traffic was light and it wasn’t long before they’d cleared the outskirts of Durrës and were motoring along the SH84 expressway, heading south towards Dushk.
Keira stared out of the window, her mind picking over the events of the last few days. She was puzzled why Pavli had told her there was no record of Kaltrina’s parents being murdered in Dushk. She was on her way to talk to someone with a different side of the story to tell.
Keira became aware of a voice. Ardiana was saying something.
‘What?’
‘You’re so far away in your head you can’t hear what I am saying.’
‘What were you saying?’
‘I have cigarettes in my bag.’
‘It’s a no-smoking rental car.’
‘Who gives a shit. Pass me my bag up.’
Keira pulled a Marlboro soft pack out of her pocket. ‘If you keep your eyes on the road you can have one of mine.’
She pressed in the cigarette lighter, waited for it to pop, then lit both cigarettes simultaneously before handing one to Ardiana.
‘They’re actually Daud Pasha’s cigarettes, we can blame him.’
‘Your face looks better today. The swelling is not so bad,’ said Ardiana through a cloud of grey smoke.
‘It doesn’t feel so tight.’
‘You worked out who did it to you yet?’
‘No.’
‘Could just be a coincidence.’
‘In my experience coincidence is what happens when common sense is taking a nap.’<
br />
‘What does this mean?’
‘It means I don’t believe in coincidence. Everything happens for a reason.’
‘What is the reason they would beat you up?’
‘Who knows, but it wasn’t a coincidence.’
Both women sat in silence for a few moments enjoying their cigarettes.
‘Is it your day off too?’ asked Keira eventually.
‘Sure. Why you ask?’
‘No reason. What d’you do, when you’re not hanging out with gangsters?’
‘Fatjo is a good guy. Everyone says he’s not even smart enough to know how dumb he is. But even a mountain goat knows where the sweetest grass is. He has a brain in his head; he just doesn’t show it. Plays things cool. Knows how to treat you right, though. Has six sisters, so he’s not a jerk when he’s hangin’ out with the girls. Once he’s on your side he won’t take any shit from anyone as far as you’re concerned.’
‘I get the “Fat-Joe” bit, but where’s the Jesus thing come from?’
‘He keeps company with taxmen and harlots, like Jesus did.’
‘Taxmen?’
‘His brother works for the tax office: keeps Fatjo’s dark affairs in order, so he doesn’t get into any trouble.’
‘And harlots?’
‘Yeah. Fatjo runs a few girls.’
‘What do you work at?’
‘Sales and rentals.’
‘Like, real estate?’
‘No. I sell my ass and rent space in my vagina. I’m one of those girls. My working name’s Eliza.’
‘Why Eliza?’
‘“Eliza Doolittle, but I do lots.” Fatjo made it up. He laughed so hard he nearly choked to death. After that it just kind of stuck.’
‘You want me to call you Eliza?’
‘No.’
‘You hook for Fat-Joe?’
Ardiana blew a jet of smoke out the side of her mouth. ‘Who else d’you know has a double bed in their lounge?’
*
It wasn’t long before the hire car was trundling along a rutted dirt track that ran between two uneven fences. The faded, upright pickets of each fence – standing just over a metre high – were bound together near the top with woven strands of willow. A dust cloud rose into the air behind the car as it climbed the shallow incline towards a group of houses at the foot of the tree-covered hill.
‘We’re almost there. You are okay to put the blindfold on till we get inside? It’s dumb, but my friend is nervous to have the house identified.’
‘Sure.’
At the far end of the track a mature olive tree stood in front of a two-storey detached house with a red terracotta roof. Moments later the car pulled up in front and Ardiana stepped out into the warmth of the midday sun. Keira pulled the headscarf a little tighter around her eyes and waited for Ardiana to guide her out.
The friend – a woman who, by the sound of her voice, Keira guessed was roughly the same age as Ardiana – opened the garden gate and beckoned them through. Keira heard them kiss each other on both cheeks, then felt Ardiana take hold of her arm and lead her up a set of shallow stairs into the dim shade of the house.
‘Kafe turke?’ asked the friend.
Ardiana tapped Keira. ‘You want a real coffee?’
‘As opposed to what?’
‘Instant.’
‘I’ll go real.’
Ardiana led Keira into the kitchen, manoeuvred her to a seat by a large solid table and held on to her as she sat. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly ground coffee. Keira listened as the young woman filled a pot with water then spooned in some of the coffee and brought it to the boil. ‘You can take the blindfold off now.’
The kitchen had a rustic look. The table took up most of the floor space. A simple range cooker with pots hanging overhead sat below a small wooden window that let in little light.
‘I ëmbël?’ asked the woman as she turned from the stove.
‘Is better sweet. Otherwise it tastes like shit,’ said Ardiana. ‘My friend is asking if we want it with sugar.’
‘However it comes,’ replied Keira.
Ardiana shook her head and the woman tipped four heaped spoonfuls of sugar into the pot.
Her voice had been misleading. She was younger than Ardiana, wearing a simple blue cotton dress covered by a ragged, work-stained apron. When the brew was ready the young woman poured out three small cups of the dark brown liquid and placed them on the kitchen table.
‘This is my friend Helena. Helena, this is Keira.’
The woman held out her hand and gave a polite shake.
‘I am sorry for the blindfold, but it is better this way,’ said Helena.
‘It’s okay,’ replied Keira. ‘I understand.’
‘You want to tell her the story?’ said Ardiana.
Helena was apprehensive. ‘I don’t want to bring trouble.’
‘It’s okay. You can trust her,’ said Ardiana.
‘I just want to find the boy,’ said Keira, cutting in. ‘I promise I won’t mention your name or discuss with anyone ever having met you. I knew the boy Ermir’s mother, Kaltrina, and I want to help him, so anything you can tell me would be great. You knew Kaltrina’s family, is that right?’
‘I know Kaltrina also. Edon is the father. He used to work at garage here in Dushk and her mother, Valbona, worked as cleaner in Fier. You know what has happened with Kaltrina? No one has heard from her. Everything is strange. We thought she would have come home to bury her parents, but no one has heard from her. You have come to get the boy and take him to her?’
‘No . . . I’m not here to take the boy anywhere . . . I’m here to fulfil a promise I made to Kaltrina.’
‘But you know where she is?’
‘I do know where she is,’ replied Keira, struggling to find the words, ‘but I’m afraid . . . it’s not good: the news is not good.’
‘She is in trouble? Ardiana told me you are lawyer. Kaltrina is in trouble with the law?’
‘She’s not in trouble . . . It’s a long story which doesn’t have a good ending. You’ll forgive me if I don’t go into too much detail.’
‘I will not ask more. Her parents, Valbona and Edon, were very proud of her. They missed Kaltrina when she left. I think I hear what you are saying. She is not coming back?’
‘No. She is not coming back.’
‘I understand. Hopefully they are all together once again. I will think this when I remember them.’
‘Do you believe that the parents were murdered?’ asked Keira. ‘I’ve seen a video where they were threatened, but the police here have no record of any crime being committed. They say the video could have been made to scare Kaltrina, but it’s probably a fake.’
‘The house is near the top of the hill. Is just over three kilometres, but even from here I could hear the gunshots. I hear the sirens and can see the lights flashing blue in the sky. If you go you will see, but no one enters into the house. People they are afraid. What has happened to the bodies, there has been no funeral? No one will live there ever again, it is haunted by their ghosts.’
‘Did you know Kaltrina well?’
‘Kaltrina left Dushk just over two years ago for travelling. I don’t hear from her since. But there was a girl living in next house; she was Kaltrina’s best friend. I think if you are looking for boy, this is where to go first.’
‘Does she live there now?’
‘Rozafa, the mother, is there, but she won’t talk to you.’
‘What happened to Kaltrina’s friend?’
‘She left. The day after the shooting she disappeared. Rozafa says she has no idea where to, but I think maybe this is not true.’
‘You’ve spoken to her, the friend?’
‘No. I saw her one day in Fier. Her name is Tallulah, but everyone calls her Lule. She had changed very much, her personality. She liked to have fun, but I think she got involved with the Clan. I hadn’t seen her around for a long time and when I did she was different . . . She was all
the time nervous and scared. Her mother was concerned because she didn’t leave the house. Not often.’
‘Did Lule have the boy with her?’
‘When?’
‘When you saw her in Fier.’
‘I can’t remember. She had her hood up and lots of make-up to cover her looks. I shouted after her, but she turned and walked in the other direction.’
‘It was definitely her?’
‘Sure. Her mother is not well, sometimes my mama takes her food. Sometimes she takes Rozafa medicine. This is how I know these things.’
‘D’you think Lule may have taken the boy with her?’
‘I think yes. When the men came Lule thought they were there for her. This is what Rozafa told my mother. I think that is why Lule has gone.’
‘What men?’
Helena picked up her cup and stared nervously back at Keira, like she’d already said too much and was reluctant to go any further.
‘Do you know who killed Kaltrina’s parents?’ asked Keira.
‘I don’t want any trouble. It’s just the rumour, but if it is true, then it is very bad.’
‘What is the rumour?’
‘If I speak his name you must not say it was me.’
‘Promise.’
Helena looked nervously to Ardiana then back to Keira. Eventually in a quiet whisper she said, ‘He has lots of names. The Black Angel, the Watcher . . . he is a demon. Everyone in Dushk believes that it was this man. His real name is Engjell E Zeze.’
There was a long silence in the room.
‘You are quiet I think maybe because you have heard of this man?’ asked Helena.
‘I’ve heard of him, yes. A few months ago he tried to kill me,’ replied Keira. ‘He shot me three times.’
‘I’ve never met anyone that’s come into contact with E Zeze and lived,’ said Ardiana. ‘What happened?’
‘I shot him back.’
Eleven
‘Smells like an ashtray in here.’
‘Better than some of those air fresheners you get, Cotton Candy and Sea Breeze Fizz: got all these fancy names, but give you a goddamn headache.’
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