Cold Courage

by Pekka Hiltunen

  As they started back the way they had come, towards the Old Kent Road, Lia wondered at what seemed a circuitous route, but assumed the driver knew his trade. But after travelling for only twenty-five minutes, the traffic took a turn for the worse. Apologising, the cabbie informed them that it appeared an accident on the roundabout at Elephant & Castle had snarled up the entire area. There went their timetable.

  Lia asked Elza to call her friends at the shopping centre to tell them she was going to be late. Elza did not have a phone – she and the other prostitutes were not allowed anything like that – but she rang the beauty shop on Lia’s mobile. There the staff called one of Elza’s friends to the phone. The conversation was brief.

  ‘They’ll be fine,’ Elza said after ringing off. ‘They can tell the carder whatever they want. But if Olafs comes looking for us, things will go wrong.’

  ‘Olafs? Who is he?’

  Olafs Jansons was the gangster who ran the women at the Creed Lane brothel. He frequently drove Elza and her friends to the Westfield mall and back to Vassall Road. Elza described Jansons: he was a tough bodybuilding type with a shaven head.

  The bald man. Of course he had to come from somewhere.

  Jansons was the number-two man in the gang that maintained the Latvian brothels. He had started as a guard but had risen to manage Creed Lane. Above him was only Vanags.

  ‘I know he’s beaten people to within an inch of their lives,’ Elza said. ‘Customers who didn’t pay and an enforcer from a rival gang.’

  The taxi was moving again, but still at a crawl. Lia felt as though her brain couldn’t process all of her questions quickly enough. Where was Paddy?

  ‘Give me a sec,’ Lia said and rang Paddy.

  Paddy answered immediately, informing her that he was just a few cars back and had been watching them the entire time. Lia explained the problem. The line was quiet for a few seconds.

  ‘How far do you think the budget will stretch?’ Paddy asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Lia replied. ‘Quite a way.’

  She thought of Mari and the wealth she never wanted to speak about in specific terms but which seemed elastic enough to allow her to accomplish whatever she wished.

  ‘All right,’ Paddy said. ‘We’ll stop at the roundabout. There is one faster way to Shepherd’s Bush, but it will cost six thousand pounds. I’m ringing off now. I have a call to make.’

  Lia turned back to Elza, whose eyebrows were raised.

  ‘Now you are just going to have to trust me and my bodyguard,’ Lia said.

  At Elephant & Castle, Paddy edged ahead of the cab and led them to a car park, where Lia threw some banknotes at the bewildered driver.

  They gathered on the pavement and Paddy pointed at the roof of the next building down.

  ‘There.’

  They ran into the building, one of London’s countless office blocks. In the lobby, Paddy cast about for the lifts and led them to the closest one. They sped up to the topmost floor.

  Once there, Paddy went out first, glancing to either side and nodding for them to follow. They passed two office doors. All the time, Paddy was scanning for something. Finally he found what he was looking for: a plain door with a sign that read ‘Staff only’.

  The door was locked, but Paddy pulled from the inner pocket of his coat a jangling bundle of small metal implements, somewhere between keys and tiny tools. Lia recognised the bundle, since it was just like the one Berg had used to open the door to Gareth Nunn’s flat.

  A moment later they heard a click and the door opened. Behind it were stairs leading upwards.

  The door that opened onto the roof was unlocked. Running out into the light, they instinctively bent double as a wave of ear-splitting noise and pressure washed over them. A helicopter was landing on the middle of the roof.

  The landing was not entirely smooth: the pilot was forced to correct his angle of descent several times before he dared set down the entire weight of the helicopter.

  When the skids touched the roof, Paddy told Lia and Elza to follow him. He opened the side door of the chopper and they climbed up into the shaking and thudding machine.

  Sitting on the benches, they fastened their safety belts as Paddy directed the pilot to take off.

  Only after they had been flying through the skies of central London for about a minute did Lia realise that none of them had said anything. Paddy was concentrating on the route. Elza’s serious expression revealed that she was simply trying to keep her wits about her amidst all the confusion.

  Lia herself was too astonished to speak. She had never flown in a helicopter. She stared at the London Eye to their left and the skyscrapers of the City to their right, which from this perspective looked new and smaller.

  ‘Two minutes,’ Paddy announced. He almost had to shout to make himself heard over the din.

  ‘I didn’t know that ordering a helicopter was this easy,’ Lia yelled back.

  ‘This is illegal. Or, the flying isn’t illegal, but the flight path and landings are. That’s what’s costing us. And the short notice.’

  They passed over Marble Arch.

  Might they get caught? Lia asked.

  ‘Of course. If anyone notices.’

  Almost immediately the helicopter reached Shepherd’s Bush. It didn’t land on the shopping centre roof, since the sight from inside of a helicopter flying so low over the glass roof would attract unwanted attention, but the pilot found an appropriate spot on the top of a neighbouring building.

  When the chopper’s skids touched down again, Paddy was already opening the door. Lia and Elza needed no admonition to move quickly. They were all out within seconds.

  Paddy gave the pilot a thumbs-up, and he rose back into the air.

  Then they ran to the rooftop door and down the stairs.

  The block was another large commercial building, the top floor of which was used by an asset management company. The guard at the door stared at them as they charged down from the roof to the lift. But the lift arrived quickly, and they got away without any trouble.

  Paddy took a few deep breaths and evaluated the situation. The building security cameras would have pictures of them, but the helicopter had touched down on the roof so quickly that that was unlikely to cause any problems.

  ‘The whole trick is that it has to happen instantly. So quickly that the air traffic control authorities don’t have time to start asking questions.’

  How had he managed to hire a helicopter so quickly? Lia asked, still astonished.

  Paddy explained that he knew the owner of the company. The firm had six helicopters, several of which were always either in the air or standing by on the ground. They could get a bird in the air over London anytime. Usually they ferried corporate coshes from one meeting to another, but Paddy sometimes ordered last-minute jaunts. Helicopters were only supposed to fly specific routes in London airspace, and they weren’t allowed to land just anywhere, but for a special premium the owner was willing to take the risk.

  Elza listened to the conversation, looking pale and glancing at her watch. Lia checked the time. They had three minutes left of their original two hours.

  The lift arrived at street level.

  ‘Paddy and I shouldn’t be seen with you any more,’ Lia said to Elza. ‘You should go back to the beauty parlour alone.’

  Elza nodded without saying anything.

  She’s scared. She’s scared to death.

  ‘I’ll see you tonight in the corner shop on Vassall Road,’ Lia said. ‘I’ll be there around eight o’clock. We’ll meet there, and I’ll tell you what to do. All that’s required of you now is to stay calm.’

  ‘I’m not the one to worry about. The question is whether Henriete and Ausma can stay calm,’ Elza said. ‘Tonight, eight o’clock, at the shop.’ Then she crossed the street.

  Lia and Paddy waited a few minutes. They saw a large, black van pull in to a space at the bottom of the stairs leading to the shopping centre. Lia recognised the driver: the ba
ld man, Olafs Jansons. Unintentionally she flinched, drawing back behind Paddy as she remembered her latest narrow escape from the thug. Elza and three other women came out of the shopping centre and climbed into the van, which turned into the flow of traffic and disappeared from sight.

  ‘What happens now?’ Paddy asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Lia said. ‘I don’t have the faintest idea.’

  36

  Mari answered Lia’s call immediately. She listened for a moment and then interrupted. ‘How much time do we have? Until eight tonight? Good.’

  Mari was at the Fitzroy Museum and asked Lia to meet her there. Paddy got a few hours off, which he was glad to take.

  When she reached the museum, Lia purchased a ticket and walked up to the hall between the fourth and fifth galleries.

  Mari was sitting in her usual place, on the bench in front of Double O. Her concentration was total as she watched the circles of film flitting in the air between the enormous fans.

  Here she can be at peace no matter what happens.

  Lia sat down beside Mari and told her about the events of the day so far.

  Mari listened in silence, and Lia noticed that her expression didn’t change at any point. She seemed indifferent to the price of the helicopter ride.

  Lia handed her Daiga Vītola’s picture. She did not need to say who it was. Mari looked at the picture for a long time and then lifted her eyes to the whirling piece of art.

  Her face was serious, and when she finally looked at Lia, Lia could see the deep sorrow in her eyes. Mari still did not say a word.

  What is she thinking? I can’t make it through this by myself.

  ‘All we have are hard choices,’ Mari finally said. ‘I’ve been trying to think whether we have any way to handle this so that Vanags will definitely end up in jail and the women will definitely go free. But we don’t.’

  It was possible that the police would find evidence against Vanags, but there was a serious chance that they would not be able to connect him to the murders. Having Vanags remain at large would be dangerous for them all.

  Mari had also attempted to clarify what the Latvian women’s status was in Britain. She had called a lawyer who specialised in immigration rights. The situation was difficult and ambiguous, the solicitor had said. Daiga Vītola’s family and the Vassall Road prostitutes might not be allowed to stay in Britain and might be deported to Latvia.

  If the women did not make their presence known to the authorities and attempted to stay on in the country on their own recognizance, their lives would remain difficult. They would have to stay in hiding, and they would not be able to keep in contact with relatives or friends. If information of their whereabouts got out, Vanags would be able to find them.

  Lia understood. There was no expedient that would resolve the women’s situation outright.

  Is this what this is like? We research. We plan. We risk our own safety. But even with all that we can’t do any good.

  ‘Can’t we help them get away to somewhere else?’ Lia asked.

  ‘Of course we can. But where do we draw the line? If we help them, why don’t we help the women at the three other brothels as well?’

  They could give the women money to get by for a while. They could help them engage lawyers, but none of them were going to be granted asylum. People in Latvia were not living in extremis.

  ‘Latvia is a perfectly reasonable place to live. At some point our assistance has to stop,’ Mari said.

  She motioned to the installation in front of them.

  ‘We have to remember that the Baltic is also like this. They have art, artists, normal life. Perfectly normal people. If Elza and the others return to Latvia, their life there might be just fine.’

  These women had been injured in a way that had changed their lives. The prostitutes had all taken a risk coming to London, and that gamble had turned out badly. Lia and Mari could ameliorate the situation somewhat but not completely.

  They could not ensure these women a good future. That they had to do for themselves.

  ‘This is a question of fairness,’ Mari continued. ‘We dispense fairness, not justice.’

  Lia realised that Mari was speaking from experience.

  She has been in situations like this before.

  But they had to get the women out of mortal danger, Lia insisted. The most important thing was to get the prostitutes and Daiga’s family to safety. Everything else would happen if it happened. Perhaps Vanags would be convicted for his crimes.

  ‘We’ll help the women out of danger, and then they can decide what to do. At least they’ll get to choose themselves,’ Mari said.

  She stood up.

  ‘Have you also been thinking about Fried all this time?’ Lia asked.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about everything.’

  On the way to the Studio, Mari sketched out the strategy.

  They called Paddy in to talk it over. By six o’clock, the plan was ready.

  Lia wondered whether she could go home for a bit to take a breather, but time was too short. She stayed at the Studio and found a place to rest in the Den. Lowering one of the hammocks from the ceiling of the dining area, she climbed in.

  She could see a strip of dark sky and the industrial buildings across the way. A warm light shone on the walls, coming from the large windows of a warehouse that had been converted into a gallery.

  She heard the sounds of work echoing through the Studio. Mari walked from room to room, talking to the others. She conversed quietly with Berg, giving him instructions for the following day.

  Lia thought about what she would soon have to do. Just a little while before it would have frightened her, but now she was strangely relaxed.

  Just after seven o’clock, Lia set off towards Oval. On the way she received a call from Paddy. According to the plan, he had followed Kazis Vanags and checked that he would no longer be on Vassall Road when Lia arrived in the area.

  At a quarter to eight, Lia found herself a dark spot across the road from the corner shop.

  Time passed slowly. Eight o’clock arrived with no sign of Elza.

  At six minutes past the hour, Lia saw Elza walk down the street and enter the little shop. Lia quickly followed.

  Between the shelves, Lia related her suggestion in hushed tones. The plan was simple. Elza listened carefully. When Lia was finished, Elza had only one question.

  ‘And then what? Where do we go?’

  ‘You’ll have to decide that yourselves.’

  Elza nodded. She took Lia gently by the shoulder.

  ‘Thank you,’ Elza said, embracing her.

  She turned and began filling her shopping cart with cigarettes and fruit. In her hand she held a white piece of paper with a list.

  Cigarettes. Tabloids. Bananas. And something for starting a new life, Lia thought.

  37

  The next morning at 9.40 they set the plan in motion.

  Lia was sitting with Paddy in a car on Vassall Road. First thing that morning she had rung Level’s company doctor to report she had the flu. The female doctor had ordered three days’ sick leave, which Lia accepted without guilt.

  The signal came from the top floor of number twelve. A window opened and a hand appeared holding a small white towel. The hand waved the towel several times.

  Lia watched in the rear-view mirror as two men climbed out of the vehicle behind them. Large, both in jeans and leather jackets, Alan Scott and Fergus Anderson were security professionals whom Paddy used regularly.

  Paddy got out of the car and went with them into the stairwell. Lia stayed in the car and counted the seconds.

  Up the stairs, twenty seconds. To the door. When Elza opens it, quietly inside.

  Regroup outside the toilet, ten seconds. Charge in – five seconds, maybe ten.

  They surprised the Vassall Road guard sitting on the toilet.

  The signal at the window had come from Elza. They took down the guard in the unlocked bathroom, not giving him a c
hance to grab his weapon or call Vanags.

  At 9.47 a.m. the window to the flat opened again. The same white towel was waved.

  Lia exited the car, locking it. After climbing the stairs to the top floor, she waited outside the door. She didn’t ring the doorbell, to prevent the neighbours from noticing that anyone had called.

  Paddy let her in. On his right temple was the beginning of a bruise, apparently from a fist.

  The mood in the flat was tense. Elza and the three other women were standing in the middle of the large front room staring at the guard, who was lashed to a chair. Elza looked relieved, the others startled and frightened. They hadn’t known in advance what was going to happen.

  The guard was a young man of compact build. His trousers hung open, and his face also bore the marks of a struggle. Fergus Anderson had covered his mouth with three layers of thick duct tape.

  Getting that off is going to hurt.

  The guard’s eyes roamed nervously, moving from woman to woman and then focusing on Paddy and his broad-shouldered sidekicks. Lia he looked at most intently.

  He’s thinking that because I came last, I’m in charge of all of this.

  Lia pulled out her mobile and rang Berg.

  ‘Two minutes,’ Berg said.

  Elza spoke to the women in Latvian. Lia could not understand the words, but knew what Elza was explaining. The women had to decide now, quickly, what they wanted to take with them.

  Where are we going? they asked.

  Elza had ready the response Lia had given her. To a safe place for a few days. After that they would have to take care of themselves.

  The women collected their belongings in a state of shock, but Lia could see that the sight of the guard, bound and cowed, had done them good. It was a signpost to freedom.

  At the window, Paddy motioned for Lia to come and look. They watched as a large, white camper van rolled onto Vassall Road. Amidst the cars it looked like a ship gliding along. There was still space for it to park though, because at this time of day many residents had already departed for work.