When Lule asked him what it meant he would stare back at her with tears in his eyes and say it again, ‘Hathi,’ like she should already know.
Lule looked over at his small round face – his dark eyes closed as he slept in the back of the car. She stared at him and hoped his dreams were somewhere to escape to and not somewhere to fear.
Lule leant across and opened the glovebox. She pulled a flat-black Beretta from inside and placed it beside her empty handbag on the passenger seat.
The phone started to buzz. Lule snatched it up and pressed it to her ear.
‘The beat-up one’s going back to the car,’ her mother hissed. ‘I think they’re leaving.’
‘Did you go out to them?’
‘No.’
‘Okay, I’ll be up in a minute, but come to the gate. The boy is going to wake up soon.’
*
Ardiana revved the engine and leant across to open the passenger door as Keira approached the car and climbed in. ‘Told you it’s a waste of time. Even if the old woman’s in there, she’s not going to tell you anything.’
‘Can you write a message for me in Albanian?’
‘Then we can leave?’
‘Then we can leave.’
‘What does the message say?’
‘“I want to help Ermir.”’
‘That is all?’
‘I’ll put the number of the hotel and my office number back in Glasgow.’
‘Why not your mobile, too?’
‘I don’t use a mobile.’
This time Ardiana shot Keira a glance. ‘You don’t use a mobile? Albania’s still playing catch-up with the rest of the world on a lot of things, but everyone has a goddamn cellphone. How d’you stay in touch?’
‘Your question assumes that I want to stay in touch.’
‘Now you are talking like a lawyer. What is there to write on?’
Keira lifted the car rental agreement from the glovebox and discarded the paperwork. ‘Use this envelope.’
‘D’you have a pen?’
‘Got some eyeliner.’
Ardiana wrote the note and handed it back to Keira, who then signed her name and added the telephone numbers. ‘Be back in a minute.’
Keira scanned the front door for somewhere to post the note but there was no letterbox. It was tight, but eventually she managed to work the envelope under the storm sill at the bottom of the door.
Instinct made Keira turn and look over her shoulder as she headed back towards the front gate. A twitch at the curtain told her what she already knew: someone was watching from inside the house. It was frustrating, but all she could do now was wait and hope that whoever it was would pick up the note and give her a call.
*
‘You got plans for your last night in Albania?’ asked Ardiana as they pulled away. ‘I’m meeting up with Fatjo. Why don’t you come have a drink with us?’
‘I have to pick up new travel documents. I’m going to drop in at the police station.’
‘You have to have passport photograph done with your face all bruised?’
‘A temporary travel permit: I’ll apply for a new passport when I get home.’
‘So you want to come for a drink? I’m supposed to be working, but we can maybe go for one quick one.’
‘By the time I’ve picked up the papers and got back to the hotel, I doubt I’ll have time. It’s an early flight tomorrow.’
‘Don’t even think to tell anyone what you have seen today.’
‘Two dead bodies in a house: it’s not something you come across every day. We should let someone know.’
‘You don’t understand. The police, they already know. The whole of Dushk knows. You and me are the last to find out, that’s all, but everyone else knows. If the Clan leaves two bodies as a warning, you have to listen to the message. Don’t get involved. You go into the police station, you’re going to be talking to a Clan member wearing a uniform. He’ll say, “Why you don’t listen to the message?” and arrest you for being deaf.’
Ardiana slowed the car as it approached the bottom of the hill and flicked the indicator stalk to turn right.
At the junction Keira looked up to the left, checking for oncoming traffic. Twenty metres from the corner, pulled over to the side of the narrow road, sat an old Mercedes with a young woman staring out from behind the steering wheel. Her body was stiff, her eyes alert, like a wary deer in the field watching for predators. A figure lay slumped in the back, asleep, the features indistinct.
The young woman held Keira’s gaze until the rental car had turned right and was heading off down the road.
Keira twisted round to check through the rear window. A puff of oily exhaust rose into the air behind the Mercedes.
‘What you looking at?’
‘Slow down for a second.’
‘You left something behind? I’m not going back.’
‘There’s a girl in the Merc. Back there . . .’
Ardiana checked the rear-view mirror. ‘Yes?’
‘Slow down, I want to see if she turns into the lane.’
‘Car’s parked up.’
‘She’s just started the engine.’
Ardiana slowed to a crawl. The next junction opened onto a busier tarmacked stretch of open road that in turn led to the motorway back to Durrës.
‘Take a left, then double back as soon as you can,’ said Keira.
‘Shit. Do we have to?’
‘There’s no other turn-off until you get to here. If she’s coming down the road towards us then I’ve no idea who she is. If the car’s gone, the only place it could go is up the hill . . . and my guess is that whoever’s driving has gone to visit her mother.’
Ardiana pulled left out of the junction, passed a few low-rise houses, then turned in a tight arc until the car was heading back in the opposite direction.
The spot the old Mercedes had occupied was vacant.
Keira signalled for Ardiana to slow down as they rounded the bend near the top of the lane. The girl standing outside the Dervishis’ next-door neighbour’s house reacted immediately when she saw their car approaching. Keira watched her run back to the car, pull open the passenger door and reach inside.
‘Stop and let me out.’
‘What’s she doing?’ asked Ardiana.
‘Stop here! I don’t want to scare her.’
Ardiana stamped on the brakes and Keira swung the door open, ready to jump out.
The girl was just fifty metres away, screaming as she marched towards them, arms extended.
‘She’s not scared, she’s pissed off. Stay in the car. Bitch’s carrying a goddamn nine in her hand,’ said Ardiana, raising her voice.
Before Keira could pull the door closed there was a bright muzzle flash followed by a loud crack and the hire car’s windscreen shattered. Through the fractures Keira saw another flash and the whole screen exploded in on top of the two women.
Cowering down behind the dashboard, Ardiana managed to pull the gearshift into reverse then started the car backwards down the slope. There was another loud crack as the wing mirror was hit. Ardiana steered the rental car blind, swerving from side to side, with the accelerator pedal pressed hard to the floor. Near the bottom of the road the car missed the turn and came to a halt with a sudden jolt as its rear bumper slammed hard into a drystone wall.
Keira tried her door. It was jammed shut. She put her shoulder to it, but it wouldn’t budge.
As she wound down the window and started to climb out Ardiana hissed at her, ‘Where are you going? You got to stay in the car.’
The door was lodged against a shallow bank of earth. With her arms resting on the roof Keira managed to pull herself free and clamber out.
The sound of an engine revving into life and the crashing of gears filled the valley.
Keira jumped down from the embankment and started along the lane towards the oncoming car, Ardiana shouting something behind her.
Moments later the Mercedes appeared from the bel
ly of a dust cloud, hurtling around the bend as it sped towards her. Keira stopped dead and planted her feet firmly in the middle of the track.
The car continued to accelerate. Just as Keira was preparing to dive out of the way she heard the sound of brakes squealing against rusty discs. The old Mercedes swerved into a skid then slid to a halt with the chrome bumper touching the crease of denim at Keira’s knees.
The dust cloud drifted over quickly. When it cleared, Keira saw the girl’s china-blue eyes staring back at her through the windscreen, a handgun pointing at her out of the driver’s window. Keira raised her arms above her head.
There was some movement behind the girl. A child. It was difficult to make out the features properly, but Keira knew who it was.
Both women held each other’s gaze, but said nothing. Eventually, Keira stepped clear of the bumper – her movement tracked by the barrel of the Beretta pointed straight at her chest – and broke the silence.
‘I’m here to help. I want to help the boy . . . Ermir . . . and you, Lule.’
It was a few seconds before the girl spat back at her, ‘If I ever see you again, I will be the last thing you ever see.’
The car lurched forward and sped off down the hill.
*
Ardiana was sitting on the bonnet of what was left of the rental car smoking what was left of her cigarette. She held it out in front of her and shouted up the lane to Keira. ‘You want some, you better be quick! It’s the last one.’
‘You go ahead . . . You think there’s any point chasing after her?’
‘Don’t have to. I know where she’s heading.’
‘Where?’
‘Tirana.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘The plate on her car; starts with ‘TR’. Means the car is registered there.’
‘Did you get the whole number on the plate?’
‘I did.’
‘Did you write it down?’
Ardiana held out the flat of her hand, showing a scribble of letters and numbers. ‘Used your eyeliner.’ She took a long drag and flicked the cigarette into the dirt. ‘Why didn’t she shoot?’
‘I think she was just trying to scare us off.’
‘What did you say? What did she say?’
‘I told her I wanted to help. She answered me in English,’ replied Keira, starting back down the hill.
‘So? Lots of Albanians are speaking English these days.’
‘With a Scottish accent?’ replied Keira.
Thirteen
In front of the two patrol cars sat a light blue Opel with a rental sticker on the rear window and a gaping hole where the windscreen used to be.
On the bank – a safe distance from the motorway traffic – stood one of his officers alongside Keira and another female.
Pavli took his time walking around the rental car, then stood for a while studying the front end, making a show of it for Keira. He pulled the passenger door open, checked the interior then made his way round to the boot. He popped the lid open and spent a few minutes examining something inside.
When he was finished Pavli scrambled up the bank to join them.
He nodded to the traffic officer and had a muttered conversation with him in Albanian.
Keira had no idea what was being said, but figured Pavli had told him he would take over because a few seconds later the officer descended the slope, climbed back into his patrol car and drove off.
Pavli turned to Keira. ‘You should stand under a birds’ nest and hope that one of them shits on you.’
‘After a thorough examination of the wreckage, that’s the best you can come up with?’
‘It’s good luck for a bird to drop shit on you from the sky. I’m thinking you could do with some.’
‘I’d need a flock of them to fly over.’
Pavli looked across to Ardiana. ‘What is your name?’
Ardiana hesitated before answering. If she gave her hooker name the cop might ask more questions, but if she gave her real name she’d be easier to trace. She opted for hooker. ‘My name’s Eliza.’
‘Second name?’
Ardiana couldn’t think quick enough so gave her real second name.
‘Kastrati.’ She was trying to play it cool, but Keira could see that she was nervous.
‘From the north?’ continued Pavli.
‘Way back in time, yes, my family were from the north, but we are lowlanders now.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Durrës.’
‘What is your job?’
‘Sales and rentals.’
Keira shot her a glance.
‘You two know each other?’
‘Eliza was showing me round,’ interjected Keira.
Pavli addressed the next question to both of them. ‘You are going to tell me what really happened or are you sticking with the “we hit a donkey” story? There is a reason I ask. My colleague followed your car for some distance before he stopped you and he said there was no sign of a donkey on the side of the road. Also, I have examined the car and there is no impact to the front of the vehicle, but there is to the rear. Only the door mirror is missing and, of course, the windscreen. I think for insurance a better story would be that you have come back to the vehicle and found it this way. I would say also that you have no idea how it happened. What do you think?’
‘Of what?’ asked Keira.
‘Of what is the best story?’
‘“We came back to the vehicle and found it this way. We have no idea what happened,”’ repeated Keira.
‘Okay. That is what I write on the ticket. I give you this to show the insurance company and the rental company also.’ Pavli pulled a notebook from his pocket and started jotting down some notes. ‘Then, you tell me what really happened and why there is a hole from a nine mil in the padding of the rear seat and matching nine mil slug in the trunk of the car, but this can wait. Let me first write down the “official” version. Once that is done I drop you back at hotel and arrange to have car towed to a garage. You can not drive it any more.’
‘What do I tell the rental company when I get to the airport in the morning?’
‘Tell them you returned from a sightseeing trip in Gosë to find the car damaged and the car has being taken by the police.’
‘What about the bullet hole?’
‘What bullet hole?’
Pavli finished off his notes then gestured with his hand, ‘Come, let us go get beer.’
As the three of them started back to the police car Keira asked Pavli a question that earned her a look from Ardiana. ‘Is Tirana far from here?’
‘Is quite far. An hour and a half, maybe quicker if I put on the lights. You want to go to Tirana for a beer?’
‘If I gave you a number plate would you be able to get an address?’
‘What is number plate?’
‘Of a car . . . the registration number. Is that what you call it?’
‘Is the licence I think, yes?’
‘Yes, the licence plate.’
‘Who is belonging to the plate?’
‘That’s why I’m asking. I don’t know.’
They’d reached the police car. Pavli held the door for Keira to sit in the passenger seat and looked mildly disappointed when she stepped aside to let Ardiana through instead. Keira got into the back and slid along till she was sitting in the middle with her head poking through between them.
‘I don’t want to go to Tirana,’ said Ardiana. ‘If it’s okay I will get out near Durrës and catch a furgon. I have to work this evening.’
‘You are working on a Saturday night?’ asked Pavli.
‘Sure . . . so are you.’
‘I’m just about to finish.’
‘Lucky you,’ was all she could think to say.
‘What is the licence plate number? You have it here?’
Ardiana lifted the palm of her left hand. Her hands were sweating so much that some of the letters had been wiped off. She tried to read
the black smudge of eyeliner.
‘It is T R one, two, eight something . . . I can’t make out the last number or the letter. It is maybe six, but the letter has gone completely.’ She held it up for Keira to look at, but it was difficult to tell.
‘What is the make of the car?’ asked Pavli.
‘A Mercedes,’ replied Keira. ‘A light green Mercedes. Old.’
Pavli pressed the call button on his radio and there was a brief exchange in Albanian followed by a short silence.
A few seconds later the radio hissed and crackled out a response. Pavli gave them the translation. ‘Tirana. First block of flats on the corner of Rruga Sami Frashëri and Bulevard Gjergj Fishta: apartment’s on the third floor. The car is registered to a female, surname is Shyri. Do we need any more?’
‘No.’
Pavli thanked the controller, replaced the handset and started the engine. ‘You want to have a coffee with Miss Shyri or ask her to join us for a beer?’
‘If you have the time, I’d like to talk to her.’
‘Okay, we go.’
‘Wait!’ exclaimed Keira, opening the car door.
Pavli and Ardiana watched through the windscreen as Keira ran back to the hire car and ducked inside. She emerged a few moments later clutching a photo frame and a small furry toy. Seconds later she was climbing back in.
‘Who’s in the photograph?’
‘I think it’s the boy,’ replied Keira, handing it over for him to look at.
‘The toy you have in your hand is the toy he is holding in the photograph?’
It was caked in dried blood and almost unrecognisable as the one Ermir held squashed between his cheek and his shoulder, but it was the same.
‘Yes, I think so.’
‘Where you find this?’ asked Pavli handing the frame back to Keira.
Walk in Silence Page 8