by Mark McKay
‘She will keep you out of trouble, senor.’
This local concern for his welfare was heartening if nothing else. Why on earth did everyone assume he needed chaperoning to stay out of trouble?
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘She’s good at that.’
He reminded Mariko of her responsibilities on their way to the airport. She didn’t find it amusing.
‘I think both Diego and Isabella have a point. Left alone, you do seem quite capable of getting into trouble. Why do you think I’m here?’
He was suitably chastised. He thought about responding by saying that of the pair of them, she’d been the last one to get into trouble, but he knew it wouldn’t cut much ice. And it was childish to boot. He stayed quiet.
They reached the airport and found Bruno Garcia. He was a big man. Barrel-chested with a lined and cheerful face and a thick afro hairstyle reminiscent of a beehive, he cut a short but imposing figure. He spoke English.
‘Where would you like to go?’ he boomed at them in a baritone that would have made even Barry White envious. ‘Or would you just like me to fly you on a standard tour?’
‘Ascension Retreat Centre,’ said Nick. ‘Do you know where that is?’
Bruno knew it. He had occasion to fly the ayahuasca tourists there. ‘You planning to stay a while?’ he asked.
‘Visiting friends. We won’t stay long, then you can bring us back.’
Bruno gave them a sombre look. ‘Ain’t flown anyone there for a while, now. But if that’s where you want to go…’
Nick assured him that it was, and they made their way to the Cessna. Mariko sat in the back and Nick took the co-pilot’s seat. For a moment he thought Bruno wouldn’t fit in to the pilot’s slot, he was so broad.
‘Need to lose a few pounds,’ said Bruno, registering Nick’s concern. ‘But don’t worry, she holds me like a glove.’ He proceeded to demonstrate, his bulk filling the space in discrete stages. ‘You see?’
They took off and once again Nick saw the magnificent view of the jungle and the river rolling away beneath them.
‘What a sight,’ said Mariko. ‘Beautiful.’
Bruno kept the plane at low altitude so they could see the jungle canopy ‘up close’. He followed the Amazon river and then its tributary in much the same way the pilot had done when Nick flew in with Ibanez. Then he banked the plane to the right and a few minutes later they came in sight of the retreat’s air strip. Bruno landed smoothly and taxied the plane as far as he could before turning it to face their direction of exit.
‘You want me to come in with you?’ he asked Nick, once they were all disembarked.
‘We shouldn’t be long. Up to you, really.’
Bruno said he’d wait. Nick and Mariko walked for 100 yards or so until they came to the group of wooden houses that served as retreat accommodation. It was eerily quiet. Maybe everyone was out on one of Jason’s day trips. They walked around the swimming pool and up to the office and restaurant block. Still no sign of anyone. The restaurant was empty and when they went into the office it was equally deserted.
‘They must have shut down for a while,’ said Nick. ‘Maybe Jason and the other two guys are in the owners’ house.’
‘Why didn’t they come to see who had landed, then?’ asked Mariko.
‘Good question. I can’t believe they left the place totally unattended. Let’s keep looking.’
They left the communal area and headed for the ceremonial lodge. The cauldrons that Nick had seen on his last visit, where the brew was prepared for the evening’s drinking, were empty and it looked like the fire pit hadn’t been used for a while. They climbed up the wooden steps to the lodge entrance and pushed the door open. It was dark in here. The lodge was essentially a large circle. The floor was polished wood and mattresses were placed on the outer edge of the circle so participants could lie down when the urge took them. Light came in through a fine wire meshing that went from head-height to ceiling and stretched the entire circumference of the lodge, like one long, continuous window. But at the moment no light could get in because all the blinds had been pulled down. When Nick pulled on the cord to open one of them and a sudden bright shaft of sunlight illuminated the space, he realised why nobody had come to greet them.
‘Oh, shit,’ he said.
Right in the centre of the lodge, three bodies were laid out next to each other in a neat row. As he got closer, Nick could smell the unmistakeable aroma of decomposing humanity. The decomposition wasn’t at an advanced stage and given the heat in these parts, you would expect a body to rot quite quickly. They probably hadn’t been dead more than a day or two. The faces were easy enough to recognise. Jason Wilson and his two American partners Josh and Hank all appeared to have been shot through the chest. There was a lot of coagulated blood around them, which suggested they had been shot on this spot and not moved here from elsewhere. The blinds might have been drawn to keep the flies away, but if so it hadn’t worked. The corpses were crawling with them.
‘Who are they?’ asked Mariko.
‘The guys who ran this place.’
‘Why kill them?’
‘Maybe they became a liability. There’s nothing we can do for them, now. Let’s go check the other buildings.’
The owners’ house was unlocked. It was roomy inside, with a big lounge area and four bedrooms. It all looked comfortable and lived in and no one had ransacked the place. There was nothing to suggest that Jason and his colleagues had been preparing to leave or that their normal routine had been interrupted.
‘I wonder if they knew whoever it was,’ said Mariko.
‘Or someone just arrived unexpectedly,’ supplied Nick.
They found nothing to indicate who the visitors might have been. The only other place left to check was the house down by the lagoon, so they went that way. When they got to the gate in the fence that Nick had climbed over last time, it was open. They walked up the path to the house. There was a breeze making the leaves rustle high above and the hum of the cicadas was loud, like a buzzing chainsaw.
‘There is someone here,’ said Mariko.
Nick knew she didn’t have to see or hear anyone to know that. Mariko’s sixth sense was probably more highly developed than his own, and he also thought they had company. Where exactly, wasn’t so clear.
‘I don’t think they’re inside the house,’ he said. ‘Let’s go in.’
Inside, it was much as he remembered it. Except most of the plants had gone. There were still several dozen of them on the benches and there were two wooden trolleys packed with plants waiting to be taken somewhere, but otherwise the place had been cleared. There were no boxes of powder to be seen. And no more cocaine in the fridge. The machine that converted the plants into powder was missing, too.
‘Looks like they were in the process of moving production elsewhere,’ said Nick. ‘This place was full of plants last time I was here.’
Mariko was more concerned with what they couldn’t see. ‘I’m going out the back door,’ she said. ‘I think they’re closer to the front than the back, so I’ll try to double around and see if I can find them.’
‘More than one?’
She held up two fingers and then she went past the fridges and out of sight. If there wasn’t a door back there, then there was a window she could climb through. He stationed himself by the front entrance and waited. He was a little worried for Mariko, the jungle wasn’t her natural stomping ground and he hoped she wouldn’t step on something that slithered. He didn’t want to deal with another viper bite.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of rifle fire. It was coming from somewhere in the forest, out front and to the right. He stepped outside, only to be met with a shot that whistled past his shoulder and splintered into the door behind him. He hit the ground and rolled back inside as a second shot was fired in his direction. The shots had come from almost directly out front so Mariko was right; at least two of them. There was one more shot from deeper in
the forest and then silence. Then a man’s voice, shouting something in Spanish. Nick didn’t know if it was directed at him or at the man’s compatriot in the forest. There was no answer forthcoming, either way.
He was just wondering what the guy would do next, when he heard someone else shouting. It was Bruno, his voice unmistakeable. Then there were more shots, but of a different calibre, as though they came from a handgun. He heard someone running now, straight past the front door and down the side of the building, and he launched himself out the front door and gave chase. For a second, the man in front was unaware of him but when he realised he had a tail he stopped and swung round, raising his rifle. Nick was practically on top of him when he pulled the trigger, and he dived to one side. The bullet missed him, but he needed to move quickly to avoid another one. As he came to his feet he saw that he was already in the man’s sights, at point blank range. His would-be assassin was dressed in green combat pants and jacket. He had a thick bushy beard and a wild head of curly black hair and looked as if he hadn’t seen the inside of a barber’s shop in years. The eyes were wide, dark and wild. Nick saw the finger tense on the trigger but before he could pull it, another gunshot rang out. The man jerked backwards in a reflex action as the bullet slammed into him and the rifle jerked up too, causing his shot to go wide. He slumped to the ground. Nick looked behind. Bruno was walking towards him, obviously short of breath. He held his gun loosely in one hand, pointed at the ground.
‘I had to, senor,’ he said to Nick, as he took in great gasps of air. ‘He was going to kill you.’
‘Yes, I was too slow. Thank you, Bruno.’
Bruno put the gun in the waistband of his trousers. ‘I always carry a gun in the cockpit,’ he said. ‘Because you never know what kind of people you might be flying with from day to day. Some of them are loco.’
Present company excepted, I hope, thought Nick. He watched as Bruno went over to the dead man and rolled him on his back. The man’s jacket fell open and Bruno swore, quite colourfully if the tone was anything to go by.
‘What is it?’ asked Nick.
‘Look,’ said Bruno. ‘Come here and look.’
The jacket had fallen open to reveal a t-shirt beneath. It was green like the rest of the outfit, but in its centre there was a square of red with a yellow hammer and sickle on it, with the initials ‘PCP’ beneath them.
‘Sendero luminoso,’ said Bruno. ‘Shining Path.’ He spat to one side and then swore some more. Then he remembered something. ‘Where’s your woman?’
‘I’m here,’ said Mariko, stepping out of the forest ten yards away. Bruno started. There’d been no noise to announce her arrival.
‘What happened to the other one?’ Nick wanted to know.
‘Dead. He fired at me, but I was able to deal with him.’
Bruno just looked at her, and then at Nick and again at Mariko. ‘Who are you people?’
‘We’re tourists. Actually, we were looking for someone. Unfortunately, this gentleman and the one in the forest found him first.’
‘Well, whoever you are, I think it’s time you left. I will need to report this to the police and that is a very big nuisance because I shot this one. Come on, I’ll fly you back to Iquitos.’
They were poised to start walking back to the Cessna when Nick heard a sound from inside the house. ‘What was that?’
He signed to Bruno to hand him the gun and then walked warily towards the door. He’d only gone a few steps when it opened from the inside.
‘My god,’ he said. ‘How did I miss you?’
In front of him stood a girl, at least he thought it was a girl. She was no older than twelve and she had dirty, long matted dark hair framing an equally dirty face. She wore a stained cotton shift dress that might have been white once, and she was barefoot. She regarded him solemnly with two of the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. She said something, but of course he had no idea what. He turned to Bruno for help.
‘She is a child slave,’ said Bruno, looking as astonished as the rest of them. ‘She wants you to help her.’
‘Does she have a name?’
Bruno spoke to the girl in a gentle voice. She answered. ‘Valentina.’
‘Tell her that of course we will help her,’ said Mariko. She smiled at Valentina and offered her hand to the girl. Valentina stepped forward and took it. They walked off together hand in hand and Mariko looked almost as solemn as her new friend.
‘They keep people to work for them,’ explained Bruno, as the two men brought up the rear. ‘For years, sometimes. Slaves.’ He looked worried. ‘It’s strange to see those sons of bitches around here. They never operate around these parts. What do they want here?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Nick.
He told Bruno that these ‘gentlemen’ were almost certainly responsible for the corpses in the ceremonial lodge and that he should probably not worry too much about shooting one of them. Bruno seemed mildly reassured. As for what they were doing here, it was mostly speculation, but perhaps Valentina might be able to shed some light on it. They’d find out later, once she’d had a chance to have a hot bath and a decent meal. He looked forward to what promised to be an interesting conversation.
Chapter 14
When they got back to Iquitos, Mariko took Valentina back to the hotel and Nick went straight to see Ibanez. The captain of the Peruvian National Police couldn’t quite believe his eyes when Nick was shown in to his office.
‘I didn’t expect to see you again,’ was his opening remark. ‘Didn’t you get your man in England?’
‘Yes, but for the wrong crime, as it turns out. Now I’m looking for someone else.’
‘I hope you don’t expect the overworked Iquitos police force to help you. I had far too much paperwork to do the last time you were here.’
‘There might be more to do, soon. I’m afraid I have some bad news for you.’
He told Ibanez about the retreat centre. The captain was grim-faced at the news and when Nick dropped the name ‘Shining Path’ into the story, he looked positively horrified.
‘In our district? They never come up here. You’re sure about this?’
He told Ibanez what Bruno had told him about the hammer and sickle on the dead man’s t-shirt.
‘We found a young girl there,’ he added. ‘She might tell us more, soon.’
Ibanez got up from his desk and went to the door of his office. He wrenched it open and shouted at someone. He got a response, which prompted a long speech on Ibanez’s part, followed by what sounded like a string of orders. He slammed the door shut and resumed his seat.
‘You had better be right about this, Mr Severance. I’m sending in two planes with eight armed men, right now. If they find the bodies you’ve just told me about we will get more planes in to airlift them out. You say this Bruno Garcia shot one of them?’
‘It was them or us.’
‘If it is as you described, he won’t face charges. When will you speak with the girl?’
‘As soon as possible. Assuming she will talk, that is.’
‘You could bring her here, of course,’ began Ibanez, then thought better of it. ‘No, that will only scare her more. We will do that as a last resort. Just let me know what you find out.’
‘Will do.’ Nick got up to leave.
‘And Mr Severance,’ said Ibanez, looking every inch the Captain of Police, ‘don’t do anything that would lead to me arresting you for murder, again. This time, there might not be a witness to save you. You understand?’
‘Perfectly. I’ll be in touch.’
He left the station with the warning ringing in his ears. If you had a pick of countries in which to serve a long prison sentence, Peru would be way down the list. He didn’t intend to give Ibanez or anyone else an excuse to incarcerate him again. He walked up the street until he saw an empty moto-taxi and flagged it down.
‘Epoca hotel, por favor.’
He wondered how Mariko was
getting on with Valentina. When he got back to the hotel room, the girl’s cotton shift was on the floor and there were sounds of splashing water coming from the bathroom. Mariko appeared a moment later, with her blouse soaked through.
‘You should have seen Diego’s face when I brought her in,’ she said. ‘He thought she was a street urchin.’
‘Has she said anything?’
‘Not much. I don’t understand it, anyway.’
‘Isabella will be here, soon. That should make things easier.’
Mariko took off the blouse and put on a dry t-shirt. ‘I’m going out to get her some new clothes. She likes the bath, it might even be the first time she’s had one. Just listen out and make sure she doesn’t drown herself.’
She picked up the filthy cotton shift and held it up, as if to memorise the size. Then she scrunched it up and threw it in the bin.
‘Where’s her underwear?’ asked Nick.
‘She doesn’t have any. See you soon.’ Mariko grinned at him and went out shopping. Nick smiled. She seemed to be enjoying her role as mother, or big sister, or whatever she’d appointed herself as. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen before.
Valentina came out of the bathroom about fifteen minutes later, swathed in a towel. Her face was clean now and her hair was off her face, but still tangled and wet. She looked around for Mariko and was momentarily fazed by her absence and then she just stood by the bathroom door and gazed at Nick with her solemn blue eyes, as if awaiting instructions.
‘Umm, I know,’ said Nick. He opened the balcony doors and fetched a chair. He set it down just inside the threshold and beckoned the girl over. She sat down so she was looking out through the doors to the river and jungle beyond, where the burning orange ball of the sun crept slowly towards the tree line. He found another towel in the bathroom and came back and stood behind her. He began to dry her hair, untangling the knots with his fingers as much as possible. Once that was done he took Mariko’s brush and used that to smooth out the rest of the tangle. Valentina’s black hair, once it had been washed and combed, came halfway down her back. Mariko found them like that when she came back half an hour later. The sun was just on the verge of disappearing behind the trees completely and the man and girl were watching its progress, moment by moment. They seemed almost hypnotised. She coughed.