The Hit

by Anna Smith

  ‘Aye,’ she said finally. ‘You might be right about that.’

  ‘Ma—’

  ‘Shut it! Tell me what happened.’

  ‘I paid Frankie to kill him in Romania. And he came back and told me he had. Then I was leaving to start a new life. I was getting the hell out of here forever. That was my plan. Yes, I did have an affair with Frankie, but he was just using me. So I was fucking off forever.’

  ‘No doubt with your poor late murdered husband’s money.’

  ‘He was a crook. Laundering money for gangsters.’

  ‘Oh, and that bothered you, did it? I bet it didn’t bother you when you stuffed it into your Louis Vuitton suitcase.’ She almost smiled, jerking her eyes in the direction of the bedroom where Helen had put her bags.

  Helen almost smiled too. ‘Alan’s not dead.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘After . . . After Frankie came to my flat. It was like this . . . There was a struggle, and I shot Frankie. He was lying there with blood pouring out of him. He was dead. The next thing was the key turned in the door, and Alan walked in.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘You can imagine my surprise, to put it mildly.’

  ‘Fuck me! Like Lazarus?’

  ‘Yeah. Looking rough, bearded, thinner, crazy, but definitely Alan.’

  ‘Jesus wept, so what did you do?’

  ‘I told him to get out of my way. I had a gun pointed at him and told him I would use it. He stepped aside and I left. He told me I was making a huge mistake and that people would come after me. But he didn’t follow.’

  ‘But somebody did come after you.’

  Helen nodded.

  ‘And they’re still after you?’

  Helen nodded. ‘I escaped. So I’m here now.’

  Janey stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and got up and emptied it in the bin, then ran the ashtray under the tap like some kind of obsessive compulsive ritual. She sat back and stretched out her legs.

  ‘Well. You are in plenty of trouble now, aren’t you?’

  Helen nodded. She didn’t feel like crying. She was just glad it was out, and she could see in her mother’s face something between pride that her daughter had been so bold, and gladness that she was needed.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  As Rosie listened to McGuire, her mobile pressed to her ear, she pictured him pacing up and down the office, waving his hands for emphasis as though she was sitting opposite him.

  ‘You know something, Gilmour, I might be just imagining this . . . In fact, I’d better be just imagining this. But what you’ve just told me, about this stolen baby now being in an orphanage and your plans to contact the British embassy . . . Well, I’m getting a wee niggle in my stomach that you might even be thinking about stealing this fucking baby out of that orphanage. Please tell me I’m wrong about that.’

  Rosie could feel her face smile, but she knew he was deadly serious. Of course, finding a way to get the baby out of the orphanage had crossed her mind several times, and she had no doubt that Adrian would be considering stealing her. But that would be a bridge too far.

  ‘I’m not entirely reckless, Mick. I’m not going to steal a baby from an orphanage, for Christ’s sake.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  Rosie hesitated. ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what about that big Bosnian? He’s not going to steal this baby on your behalf, Gilmour, is he? Because if we end up in some Romanian court because my investigations editor is swanning around Bucharest stealing weans, well . . . it really doesn’t bear thinking about. You actually might get put up against a wall and shot – and that would only be when you walked in here.’

  Rosie chuckled. ‘Don’t be daft. I have to admit though, it did cross my mind. I mean, things are so corrupt over here that stealing babies, selling kids, bunging officials to smooth the way is all fairly normal. But I wouldn’t want to get involved in that. I’m still thinking of the way ahead. But going to the embassy with the woman and the husband, as well as getting our story ready for the paper, will put a bit of pressure on – I hope.’

  McGuire was silent for a moment, then he said, ‘Right. That’s made my mind up. Get Matt to send everything you have over in the next couple of hours. It’s only lunchtime here, so I can splash this tomorrow, once the lawyers have seen it. Go and sit somewhere and write up your spread about Alan Lewis and the charity – the way we discussed it the other day. We don’t need to implicate him, but we’ve got enough to write a good splash and spread, especially given that his wife has gone missing after the stiff was found on her living room floor.’

  ‘I agree. And you never know, maybe it will flush something else out, once it goes in the paper.’

  ‘That’s why I want you back here as soon as possible.’

  ‘I will be. As soon as I can. A couple of days, I think. But in the meantime, I’ll put my story together and send it soon as I can.’

  ‘Fine. But let me know what you’re doing next. And I’ll say it again – don’t phone me from a police cell saying you’re getting done for kidnapping, because I’ll leave you there, Gilmour, I bloody will.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Rosie said.

  ‘Aye, right.’ He hung up.

  *

  Rosie was pleasantly surprised that the meeting at the embassy was to be in the evening on the following day. She spent most of the day making sure Ariana would definitely be able to bring a nervous Madelina with them. She hadn’t even seen her splash in this morning’s Post. It was supposed to have been faxed to her, but the hotel’s fax machine was on the blink, so she’d had to settle for her colleague Declan reading the headlines and the gist of it over to her. She was well pleased that the lawyers hadn’t cut it to pieces. McGuire had also called to say well done. So far, so good.

  It was already getting dark by the time Rosie, Nicu and Adrian headed out towards the town where they’d located Madelina’s husband. She felt uneasy, not just from being away from the city and not knowing anything about the lie of the land here. She waited with Nicu in the car outside the bar as Adrian looked in through the door. He told her it was busy and Madelina’s husband was standing at the bar. He said he looked as though he was finishing his drink. They waited, but Eadbert didn’t emerge for another twenty minutes, then they saw him come out, a little unsteady on his feet, a cigarette dangling between his lips. He walked along the road and headed towards the blocks of flats in the area they’d just driven through. Nicu drove slowly a few yards behind him.

  ‘Stop here, please,’ Adrian said. ‘I will go to him now and talk to him. See if he remembers me.’

  ‘What are you going to do, Adrian?’ Nicu asked.

  ‘I am bringing him back to the car. To take with us to the embassy.’ Adrian looked surprised that Nicu would even question it. He glanced at Rosie. ‘You want him to be there, don’t you, Rosie, so he can admit what he did?’

  ‘Yes. If possible,’ Rosie said, glancing at Nicu who looked a little perplexed.

  Adrian got out of the car and walked slowly behind Eadbert. Nicu kept the car crawling a few yards behind. Then they watched as suddenly Adrian went ahead and down a darkened alley situated between street lamps. They could see the man looking up, a little startled and unsteady. Adrian took hold of his arm, but he jerked it away. Adrian grabbed it again and firmly turned him around to face the car. Then Rosie saw him put something into the man’s back. She assumed it was a gun, but told herself she hadn’t seen that. It might not have been. Adrian ushered him towards the car and Rosie opened the back door. He pushed him in, husband babbling in Romanian.

  ‘Shit,’ Nicu said. ‘We are taking him? Kidnapping him?’

  ‘He’s a criminal, Nicu,’ Rosie said.

  ‘I know. But he is saying he knows all these people – gangsters. He is making threats here. Says he can get us all killed – that we will die for this.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Adrian said. ‘Is just stupid threats. He is a drunk.’

  Rosie turned to Nicu.

>   ‘When we get to the embassy, Nicu, maybe you should leave us. I don’t want to involve you too deeply by you putting your head above the parapet in an official way.’

  ‘No, Rosie, I want to be involved. I want to see someone stopping what is going on. I don’t mind going to the embassy and the police if we get some protection. But the thing is, we have taken a man from the street.’

  ‘Well, if it goes well, and the embassy really does intervene and the Romanian authorities react, then maybe this bastard will end up behind bars where he belongs. He sold his own baby.’

  Nicu drove the rest of the way in silence. Rosie was glad when she saw the lights of the embassy, and the car with Ariana and Matt inside. She could see the silhouette of Madelina in the back seat. Nicu pulled up, and Rosie got out, keying a number into her mobile.

  ‘We are outside now,’ she said into it.

  In a few moments, the iron gates of the embassy opened.

  ‘Here goes.’ She got back into the car and they drove past the British soldiers and into the compound.

  *

  The massive mahogany carved doors were opened and they stepped into a vast hallway of marble pillars and pale stone-coloured walls adorned with paintings and tapestries. Rosie gazed around at the lights and chandeliers and could see Ariana and Nicu doing the same, probably thinking about the splendour of the Ceauşescu palaces that were exposed to the public in the days of the revolution, and how he had lived in opulence while his country had existed in abject poverty for generations. As they all stood, a little awkward, nobody speaking, Rosie squeezed Madelina’s arm and nodded to Ariana. Ariana said something to Madelina in Romanian.

  ‘Madelina says she feels sick with nerves. I think seeing her husband is also making her feel physically sick, after what he did.’

  He had obviously heard that and stood there, head bowed. Rosie hoped he was ready to tell the truth. They could hear the clatter of shoes on the tiled floor and from the swing doors to the left emerged a tall, reedy, sandy-haired young man. He looked around at everyone, his eyes finally resting on Rosie.

  ‘Rosie Gilmour?’

  ‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘I’m Rosie.’

  ‘Desmond Fairlie. I’m the assistant in the office and will take you through now to see the ambassador. I deal with all the press enquiries that come into the embassy.’ He stopped walking and touched Rosie’s arm. ‘I have already had your story faxed over to us, and the ambassador has seen it. Pretty horrific stuff. I should let you know that he has already informed his Romanian counterpart, as well as the chief of police. They are both here in the office and are keen to meet you.’

  Rosie was wide-eyed. ‘That’s quick work, Desmond. More than I could have imagined. Normally everything takes forever in this country. And I cannot believe how corrupt it is.’

  He lowered his voice. ‘Well, you don’t want to be saying that when you go in there – at least not in front of the Romanian hierarchy. They know the score, though, and to be honest, the reason they got here so swiftly is that the boss has made them very aware of the power of the press, and that this revelation does not make the new Romania look good in the eyes of the rest of the European Union. They are only just recovering from the last big wave of stories on the orphanages and the international adoptions scandal, but this is a whole new level.’

  ‘Well, I hope they can help this poor woman.’ She jerked her head towards Madelina, who was behind her. ‘That’s the most important thing. And, of course, run this mob into the ground.’

  They reached the end of the corridor and were facing another large carved door, which Desmond tapped on softly. A voice called him to come in. He turned to Rosie.

  ‘Rosie, I think for the first couple of minutes it should just be yourself. We have an interpreter, and there are a few people here, so let’s just you and I go in, and we’ll touch base, and then you can bring in the others. You okay with that?’

  She turned to Adrian and Nicu as Ariana explained to Madelina. She nodded, her hands shaky.

  ‘But when we do go in, Desmond, I want to bring Nicu and Ariana in. They have been instrumental in helping us get this matter exposed, so I want to make sure they get their points across.’

  ‘Of course.’ He held the door open, and beckoned her forward.

  Inside the large, airy office, the ambassador’s desk was as big as McGuire’s conference table, which seated about fifteen people. Behind the desk, a slim man with a pale complexion and salt-and-pepper hair got to his feet.

  ‘Ah. You must be Rosie Gilmour.’ He came around from his chair, soft grey eyes studying her. ‘I’m Martin Porter-Brown, the British ambassador to Romania. I’ve just been reading your exposé in the Post and had it translated to my colleagues here. Very shocking indeed. I do hope we can all help each other here.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Rosie said. ‘I’m hoping there is a lot more to come out of this investigation.’

  ‘Quite,’ he said.

  He stood in front of Rosie and shook her hand warmly. Next he introduced her to the chief of police, the interior minister, then the Romanian ambassador and a local politician. All of them wore the same expression, flat, resigned, no friendly faces here. Rosie nodded her greeting to each of them, eager to get on with it. They all sat down in chairs opposite the desk.

  ‘I see from your story you have the name of the organisation.’ Porter-Brown glanced at the police chief. ‘We are already in the area and picking up the people you have spoken about in the story – the people you recorded.’

  Rosie looked around the room, then at the ambassador.

  He spoke to Rosie again. ‘I think it would be good to bring the others who are with you in here now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want to be going over the same thing again, and it’s important we hear from the mother herself, and the father. Because we need to act fast to get this baby back to her.’

  He nodded slowly and looked at the translator, who addressed the others. Their expressions never shifted. The ambassador nodded in the direction of Desmond, who got to his feet and went to the door. Rosie watched as they all shuffled in – the young woman, shaking and with her face pale, and the grey-faced husband looking as though he was being dragged to the gallows.

  ‘I think we should hear from the mother first,’ the ambassador said.

  Madelina’s voice shook in the beginning. But she managed to compose herself and spoke slowly and in a measured way, going through everything – Nicu translating as she was speaking. Rosie sat and listened again, pleased that Madelina was being strong enough. Her husband stood, head bowed, as the police chief glared at him. There was a lot of talking among the Romanians, and this was also translated to the ambassador. Rosie was glad with the way it was going. Eventually, the ambassador leaned across the desk.

  ‘Rosie, I would like our involvement in this kept at a minimum, despite what has gone on here today. As you know, we are only involved because of this Alan Lewis character, and the charity that is based in the UK. We know of Lewis, but didn’t know about the charity’s involvement when he went missing, and the news story surrounding him seems to have disappeared. But the fact that he is a director of this charity is what has got us involved – so you made the right call there by contacting us. The police chief and interior minister will be instructing people at the orphanage to hand over the baby to a place of safety at the moment, and then there will be blood tests to prove her parentage. This is indeed a mess, and there are a whole lot of heads that will be rolling in the next few days. So I do thank you for your help in this.’

  ‘So when will the baby be given back?’

  ‘As soon as possible. I think in the next few days. But wherever she is being held, the mother will be able to be there too, alongside. They have arranged for that.’

  Madelina bit back her emotion as this was translated to her. Then, as the officials all stood up about to leave, the door opened, and two uniformed police officers came into the room and handcuffed her husband. Madelina glared at hi
m but he didn’t even raise his eyes to look at her. Everyone watched as he was marched through the doors.

  Porter-Brown came out from behind his desk and shook hands with Rosie, telling her he was glad she had got in touch, and reminiscing about his old friend in the embassy in Pakistan who had contacted him on Rosie’s behalf. They lived in another world, Rosie thought, but was glad they were open to her.

  They left and headed towards the car, with Matt, who had waited for then there, taking pictures. Suddenly Rosie turned around to see where Adrian was. But his car wasn’t there.

  ‘Where’s Adrian?’ she asked. ‘Did anyone see the car he was in when we came out?’

  Everyone shook their heads, and Rosie felt a sudden jolt in her gut. Adrian wouldn’t have gone anywhere. He had been outside, a few yards from the entrance on the other side of the road. This was not good. She looked at her mobile and saw missed calls.

  ‘Shit!’ she said, noticing that her mobile was on Silent. She must have done that automatically before the meeting started. ‘Shit! He’s called me twice in the last ten minutes.’ She looked at Nicu.

  ‘Let’s go, Nicu. I’ll call him now, on the way to the hotel.’

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Adrian answered after two rings.

  ‘Adrian. Sorry I missed your call. My phone was on Silent. Where are you?’

  ‘Rosie, listen. There is a problem. I had to leave in a hurry.’

  ‘What? What happened? Where are you now?’

  ‘I’m following the car with Madelina’s husband in it.’

  ‘The police car?’

  ‘Yes. I tell you what happened. I’m in my car but nobody can see me, and then I saw the police come out with the husband in handcuffs, so I’m thinking it’s good that he is arrested.’

  ‘He was arrested. It went well at the embassy and the police took him away. Everyone is helping. They even had the interior minister there and they said are going to get the baby out of the orphanage. The ambassador was great. So the husband is going to jail.’