by Jason Dean
‘So often that I eventually told him to go and buy his own. He never did, though.’
‘Do you still have it?’
Janine frowned. ‘I don’t know. A lot of things got left behind in the move out here. I could check, I guess. There’s only a few places it could be.’
‘It’d be great if you could,’ Bishop said.
She glanced at her watch, then said, ‘Okay,’ and got up and left the room again.
Bishop stood, stretched and walked over to the window. They’d been here over an hour already. It would be getting dark soon. Another day almost gone with little to show for it. He still wasn’t sure what he hoped to find here. At the moment, he was just fishing and seeing what he could pull from the water. But if this trip proved useless he might have to take a more direct approach with Klyce. Which meant finding him first, of course. But all things were possible when you had motivation. And he had that in spades. Because the longer they spent on this, the longer Amy was at risk.
He had Muro at the hospital, of course, and that was good. But his presence there only reduced the danger. It didn’t get rid of it. If the people after Amy were determined enough, a single bodyguard wouldn’t be able to stop them. Sometimes a whole team of them wasn’t enough. He was reminded of the events of four years ago. Back on Long Island. The Brennan estate. He’d been in charge of a five-man team and it still hadn’t helped. And they’d been the cream of the crop. Or they would have been if not for one rotten apple. It all felt like a lifetime ago now. Which, in effect, it was. He sure hadn’t been the same man afterwards.
He turned when he heard Janine returning. She was holding a small book. ‘Found it,’ she said. ‘Don’t know what good it’ll do, but you’re welcome to look through.’
Bishop came over and took the book from her. It was a standard, faux-leather pocket diary that looked a little worn from age and hard usage. He sat down and flipped through it. Many pages were crinkled. Some had whole pieces torn out. The first three-quarters of the book was the diary. Here and there, Bishop saw a few notes written down, but not many. The last quarter was the address section. And this was filled with small writing.
Bishop went back to the beginning and went through it more carefully. Janine’s handwriting was consistent throughout. It was neat and well spaced out, like Amy’s, but Janine tended towards larger, rounded letters with smooth flourished strokes. The diary showed nothing out of the ordinary. Just basic reminders and appointments here and there. He leafed through the address section next. When he got to the Cs, he stopped at the second page. There was some blue text in the left-hand margin. The handwriting was different. It looked rushed and the letters were sharper and more crammed together. There was a name, Anthony Carter, followed by a number with a New Jersey area code.
Bishop showed Janine, his finger underlining the notation. ‘This is Cesar’s handwriting?’
Janine leaned forward, squinted at the page and nodded once. ‘That’s it. Tony Carter was a neighbour of ours in New York.’
‘Uh huh.’ Bishop continued looking through. He saw a few more names and numbers Cesar had scribbled down. Often they were crossed out, but they were still legible. Each time Bishop called out the name, Janine would identify the person as someone Cesar had either known or met in New York.
Bishop had reached the Fs when he stopped. Cesar’s handwriting in the margin again. Except this one was an address. The entry read, The Farm (Continental!!!), New Dub. Rd, Ottawa – DFTC!! It had been underlined twice and then crossed out, presumably once Cesar had transferred the information to his organizer. There was no phone number. It looked like a possible connection to the Continental Surveying, Inc. mentioned on the CD. And an address in Ottawa, too.
Bishop especially liked the three exclamation marks after the Continental mention. Something about this entry had clearly excited Cesar, which in turn catalysed Bishop. This was something, all right. The way Cesar had written it, it almost looked like a eureka moment. He showed the page to Janine and said, ‘Know anything about this one?’
Janine frowned at the entry and slowly shook her head. ‘Never seen that address before. And we never went to Canada.’
‘Any idea what DFTC stands for?’
She smiled. ‘That was his shorthand for Don’t Forget To Check.’
Bishop nodded. Good advice, Cesar, he thought. Maybe I will at that.
He proceeded to go through the rest of the book. But Janine had a good memory and was able to explain the reasoning behind every other name he called out.
Which just left ‘The Farm’.
‘Look, I really want to help you,’ Janine said, ‘but I’m still a working mom. It’s already half past six and I need to feed Joel and get ready for my evening shift.’
Bishop handed back the diary and said, ‘You’ve already helped a lot. Thanks. We’ll get out of your way now.’ He got up from the couch and paused as he looked around the tatty room, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to say next. ‘Look, Janine, do you need any money? Like for a cab into town or anything? Or just for general expenses?’
Janine smiled with one side of her mouth as she led him to the doorway. ‘Thanks, Bishop, but I never accept charity from strangers. No matter how tastefully it’s phrased.’
‘What about compensation then? How do you feel about that?’
She paused. ‘You mean from Klyce?’
‘Uh huh.’
Janine made a face. ‘I don’t see much chance of that happening, do you? At least not with the Klyce I remember. Besides, he’s probably forgotten all about us by now.’
‘Maybe I’ll remind him the next time I see him,’ Bishop said.
FIFTY-THREE
‘That poor family,’ Kidanu said, buckling his seatbelt. ‘And I am being literal. They appear to be living just above the poverty line.’
‘Yeah,’ Bishop said. ‘Just one more thing Klyce has to answer for. He sure loves spreading the misery around, doesn’t he?’ He turned the keys and the Infiniti’s 3.5 litre engine immediately sprang into life. ‘What happens to Joel when his mother goes to work?’
‘There is an elderly woman a block away who looks after him. Joel told me she is very nice.’ Kidanu turned to Bishop and said, ‘So this new Continental Surveying lead of Cesar’s. Do you think it is worth following up?’
‘I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Cesar sure seemed to think this farm was important, which means I do, too. Also, if I’m right and Klyce actually owns Continental Surveying, it’s just possible he might be there right now. His receptionist said he’d be gone for a few days, and that when he said that it usually meant he’d be going out of the country.’
‘And this farm is located in Canada,’ Kidanu said.
‘Exactly.’
Bishop leaned his head back and stared out at the darkening sky. But going to Canada would mean he’d be even further away from Amy. And for longer. But if there was a chance Klyce would be there, it was worth it. Especially as it was now the only lead he had. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel for a few seconds, thinking, then pulled his cell from his pocket. He scrolled through his call log, found the number he wanted and called it.
‘Hello again,’ Muro said. ‘No change here.’
‘All right,’ Bishop said. ‘I’m mainly calling to see if you can do a little background checking for me without leaving that floor.’
‘All I need is a phone and internet access and I can probably do it without leaving this chair. What’s on your mind?’
‘I’d like to know more about something called Continental Surveying, Inc. They’ve got an address on New Dublin Road in Ottawa, but that’s about as much as I know. Also an EMC-Med Associates. And while you’re at it, maybe you can see what you can dig up about an offshore company called Xerxes Holdings, Inc.’ He spelt it and said, ‘How long, do you think?’
‘I should have something for you in an hour, hour and a half. But I’ll call you, anyway. You realize I’ll be charging
you extra for this, right?’
‘I wouldn’t have it any other way,’ Bishop said, and hung up. He turned to Kidanu. ‘Now it’s just a case of waiting for him to get back to me.’
‘In that case, perhaps we should find somewhere to eat while we wait.’
‘Good idea,’ Bishop said, and put the gear stick into Drive.
FIFTY-FOUR
Bishop found an Australian steakhouse just out of town. Despite its fairly remote location, the large parking lot surrounding it on all sides was already close to full. Inside, a waitress led them to a booth and asked what they wanted to drink. Bishop ordered himself an iced tea. Kidanu ordered mineral water. The waitress left.
Kidanu scanned the busy restaurant. ‘Many families come here, I see.’
‘Yeah, we Americans love to eat out. Five times a week is the national average, I read somewhere.’ He looked down at his menu. ‘You haven’t said much since leaving the house. Still thinking about Joel? Or is it that he reminds you of someone else?’
Kidanu turned back to him. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Janine Hernandez asked me if you had kids yourself. I said I didn’t know, but I think you do.’ He turned a page. ‘Or you did.’
Kidanu said nothing as he looked down at his own menu. He paged through it for a while and said, ‘Parmesan pasta with steamed broccoli. I have not tried this before.’
Bishop shrugged. ‘I get it. None of my business. Yeah, pasta’s always good. Now let’s see what we got here. Sirloin . . . Rib-eye . . . Yeah, I think I might go for a filet and baked potato. That sounds pretty good.’
After a few more beats of silence, Kidanu sighed and said, ‘I had a son and a daughter.’
Bishop slowly closed his menu. ‘Had?’
‘Yes. A wife, also.’
‘What happened?’
‘Erasto Badat happened.’
‘The Scythe. Yeah, I had an idea he might have been involved somehow.’
Kidanu nodded. ‘I always give myself away when his name is mentioned. I cannot help myself. I live for the day that I . . .’
He stopped as the waitress returned with their drinks. Bishop and Kidanu gave their food orders and she went away again.
‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,’ Bishop said.
‘It is fine. The words themselves can no longer harm me. And it all happened over fifteen years ago. That is a very long time.’ He took a sip of his drink. ‘I was twenty when I married Zainab. She was eighteen. A good woman. Two years later our daughter Gabra was born. Our son, Lebne, arrived a year later. A year after that all three were taken from me. Do you know Konamba’s geography, Bishop?’
‘You’re a landlocked country, right? Eritrea to the north and Ethiopia on your south and east sides.’
Kidanu nodded. ‘And the Sudan to the west. I come from a small town named Ksaneta, close to the Sudanese border. And totally unexceptional but for one small detail. Ambachu Kornma was also born there, thirty years before me. Do you know that name?’
Bishop frowned. ‘It rings a bell. Isn’t he an author or something?’
‘Close. He is a filmmaker. And a highly respected one. He . . .’
Kidanu paused again when he spotted the waitress returning with their food. Once she’d placed their dishes on the table, she wished them a happy meal and left them.
For the next ten minutes they ate in silence. Bishop had almost finished his steak when Kidanu put down his fork, took another swallow of his drink and said, ‘Ambachu had distant relatives in France and emigrated there with his family at an early age. Later, he entered the film business and began to make his reputation as a maker of important documentaries. Fifteen years ago, however, he gave some interviews saying he had just completed the project that meant the most to him, a ninety-minute film exposing the true horrors of Badat’s reign since assuming power. It is unclear how exactly, but somehow a video copy of the film found its way to Badat before its release.’
‘Not good.’
Kidanu drank some more water. Bishop saw his hands were steady. He seemed fully in control of himself, but somewhat detached. Bishop had seen this before with survivors of serious family trauma. How they’d trained themselves over time to look upon the horror as though it had happened to somebody else. To recall the events objectively, without breaking down.
‘Not good,’ Kidanu agreed. ‘Badat then contacted Ambachu directly and said if he did not turn over the film negative and all copies, he would send an embassy courier to show him a documentary that he would direct himself. One showing Badat personally executing two hundred people from Ambachu’s home town.’
‘Don’t tell me. Ambachu refused to turn his film over.’
Kidanu made a harsh nasal sound. ‘Naturally. Later, he said he did not believe Badat would actually do it, but he must have known what he was capable of. After all, he had just made a documentary exposing the man’s excesses. Not that he can be faulted for not giving in to that maniac, of course. What happened next was solely down to Badat.
‘And so a convoy of eight trucks entered Ksaneta one morning, Bishop, just after dawn. The loud engine noises woke everybody up. Armed soldiers poured out of the trucks and began pulling us all out of our homes and into the main square. Zainab held Gabra while I cradled my infant son in my arms. A large overweight man whose face we had seen on posters was at the centre of everything, shouting orders. None of us could actually believe our president was here, in our village. But there he was, shouting and laughing as his men set up lights and cameras. None of us knew what was happening. We were all very scared.
‘Once the whole town was present, Badat looked around and pointed at Yoseph, a good friend of mine. Four soldiers came over and dragged him and his two sons into the centre of the square. One of the boys was five years old, the other seven. His wife was screaming as soldiers held her back. The whole population was terrified at this point. I think we could all sense what was coming and that we were in the presence of true evil.’
Bishop’s mouth felt dry. He picked up his tumbler and drank some of the iced tea.
‘Badat did the work himself, as he promised. He used a machete and made it last a very long time, savouring every scream. Once Yoseph and his two children were dead, Badat calmly mutilated their bodies until they were no longer recognizable as human. It was like a bad dream, Bishop. None of us could believe our eyes. As Badat pulled his machete from one of the children’s skulls I saw him ask the cameraman if the lighting was satisfactory. Insane.’
Kidanu gave a weary sigh. ‘He took all day, not finishing until dusk. My children and my wife were taken just after noon, when the sun was at its hottest. I screamed to be allowed to join them, but Badat laughed and said it was my duty to bear witness. So that is what I did, Bishop. I watched Badat murder them, and then I watched him mutilate them. Along with the hundred and ninety seven others the soldiers left behind. I still see them all in my dreams.’
Bishop could find nothing to say.
‘But there is a happy ending of sorts,’ Kidanu said. ‘Six months later, a large unified force made up of revolutionaries and army deserters finally seized control of the capital and gave the country back to the people. Government ministers and senior military personnel who hadn’t already fled the country were arrested and subsequently executed. However, Badat and his senior ringleaders were not among them.’
‘No surprise there. I take it you were personally involved in the coup?’
Kidanu shrugged. ‘Naturally. And that is all thanks to The Scythe. I am one of his many sons. He created me. That is his legacy, but I live in hope that it will also be his obituary. You see, before I left Ksaneta I made a promise to my family’s spirits that I would avenge them one day. And one thing I can guarantee is if it is left to me Badat will not face a trial. He will die anonymously by my hand, and it will not be a quick death. I will slowly tear him apart as he tore my family apart. And in the moment before I finally send him to hell in pieces, I want
the last thing he sees on this earth to be my smiling face.’
Bishop took another sip of his drink. He wasn’t sure how he would have handled it had he been in Kidanu’s place. Actually, he had a good idea he would have lost it entirely and got himself killed along with his family.
He gave a single nod to Kidanu and said, ‘All I’ll say is watch out. I know all about obsessions, and they’ll eat you up from the inside out if you let them. Before you know it, you find yourself isolated from the human race and that’s not a good place to be. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.’
Kidanu shrugged. ‘I appreciate the warning, but I will be fine.’
Bishop wasn’t so sure about that, but it was Kidanu’s life. He looked down at his watch and was surprised to see it was gone eight thirty. Muro should have called by now. He was about to check his cell phone when it chose that moment to ring.
‘This could be Muro,’ he said and pulled the phone from his pocket. Sure enough, he saw Muro’s number on the display. Perfect timing.
He took the call and said, ‘You find out anything?’
‘That’s for you to decide,’ Muro said. ‘As for Xerxes, you wouldn’t believe how many shell corporations I had to wade through until I got to the real owners. And they were from all over the place, too. One company that was incorporated in the Caymans would lead me to another that was incorporated in Belize, and so on and so on.’
‘So who owns it?’
‘I finally narrowed it down to one guy. Roger Klyce.’
Surprise, surprise. ‘What about the other two?’
‘Well, EMC-Med Associates was a complete no-show. There’s nothing listed under that name at all, so it’s probably a letterhead rather than an actual registered business. But Continental Surveying, Inc. is also owned by Klyce, believe it or not. Their registered office address is 7512 New Dublin Road, Ottawa. All I know is it’s a farm of some kind.’
‘Wheels within wheels,’ Bishop said. But it was what he’d been hoping to hear.