Nightingale

by Andrea Bramhall

  “We?”

  “Yes. He said he’s going to kill me. He wants to kill me. What are we going do?” She clung to the hope that he would still honour his word and protect her as he had promised. “You promised to protect me as long as I was your wife.”

  “I did.” He held the bird between his thumb and forefinger. “You made me a few promises too. As I recall, there was a promise that you were a virgin. There was another to respect and honour me. Another to obey me. And another to love no other.” He held the pendant up. “Have you kept your promises, Hazaar?”

  She knew she hadn’t, they both did, but surely he could see that this was different. They weren’t talking about some trivial little matter. This was about her life. This was about him walking out of this room and allowing his father to kill her. “You said you loved me.”

  “No. I said I could have loved you. I cared about you. You are beautiful, intelligent, good to talk to. You could have been my equal in this partnership and helped me build a better life for us, for our children. You could have had it all, Hazaar.” He placed the necklace on her hands. “Instead, you betrayed me.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “You would have kept me from my daughter. You would still keep me from her. My own flesh and blood. My child. That is the one thing I can never forgive you for. Never.”

  “So you’re going to let him kill me? You’re going to let him burn me to death because I don’t love you?”

  “No. I’m going to let him do what he must to satisfy his honour. Then I will do what I must to satisfy the law, my duty as a husband, as a father, and a business man.”

  Hazaar fought to think clearly through the pain. Was he really saying what she thought he was? “You’re going to let him kill me and then let him go to prison?”

  “Is that not the correct place for murderers?”

  “But I don’t understand. You can stop him.”

  “Yes, I could. But that gains me nothing but an ungrateful, disloyal wife and a father who is running the business to fund his zealot friends and their quest for Jihad. It is a foolish, fruitless, never-ending battle that has no point but to sign the death warrants of many men on both sides. I have bigger plans than that. I have an empire to build for my daughter. I have a legacy to create for her.”

  “You would let your daughter run it?”

  “Yes. If she was able.” He laughed. “You know me so little after all this time, Hazaar. I would have had you run it by my side. I have no issue with having my daughter take over from me. I’m not my father.”

  “But I—”

  “You thought I didn’t appreciate you? That I couldn’t respect you because you were a woman?”

  “Yes.”

  “I couldn’t respect you because you betrayed me. Your sex has nothing to do with it.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

  “Respect is earned, Hazaar, not given. And trust is a fragile thing that is so easily destroyed. Tell me what reason you ever gave me to trust you? What did you ever do to earn my respect?”

  “I guess I didn’t do anything. But has that really earned me an execution?”

  He shrugged. “It hasn’t earned you an intervention.”

  “I’m the mother of your child, Yasar. I’m your wife. Don’t do this.”

  “I’m not doing anything, Hazaar. I’m simply letting nature take its course.” He stood and walked to the steps.

  “Yasar, please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me to your father.”

  “I have more important things to worry about now, Hazaar. I will have a daughter to raise, a business to run, and no one to help me do it.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

  “Yes, it does.” He walked slowly up each step. “You haven’t given me any other choice.”

  “What about Afia? Please let me see her.”

  “No. Seeing you like this would scare her. She doesn’t need that. Not yet.”

  “Please let me see her.”

  “No.” The light pouring through the opened door blinded her for a moment and she looked away to shield her eyes. When she looked back, he was gone and she could hear the sound of the key in the lock and murmured voices, then footsteps moving away as she was once again left alone in the darkness.

  She looked around, slowly studying each wall. There were only two ways out of the cellar. Escape. Or death.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Pakistan, today

  Charlie rubbed her eyes with one hand as she picked up the phone with the other and glanced at the clock. “It’s two in the morning. This better be good,” she said, her voice rough with sleep.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss Porter. It’s Cheryl at the embassy.”

  She flipped on the light and tried to smother a yawn. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of this late-night chat, Cheryl?”

  “I answered a phone call a few minutes ago from a woman asking someone to meet her at the market in the Peshawar old city at six in the morning. I have an address and a specific market stall. She said to make first contact at the Cunningham Clock. Shall I give you the details now?”

  Charlie yawned again. “Why are you giving them to me at all?”

  “Oh, sorry. The woman was calling from the number that you had flagged this afternoon.”

  “Maya?” Charlie jumped out of bed and went to the living room.

  “No, the woman said her name was Amira.”

  Charlie frowned. “But it was definitely the same number?”

  “Oh, yes. She said that she needed to talk to someone. That her sister-in-law’s life was at stake, but she was in danger by using the phone. She also said that there wasn’t much time.”

  “Wait, slow down.” Charlie started to scribble notes as she spoke. “I need you to pull the recording of the conversation for me and send it to my terminal.”

  “Okay.” Charlie could hear keys rattling on the other end of the line. “Done.”

  “Thank you, Cheryl. Now, on the phone, did Amira tell you what the danger was to the other woman?”

  “Yes. She said that she was to be executed. That she has shamed the family and that their father-in-law was going to burn her to death to reclaim the family’s honour.”

  “Fuck.” Charlie wedged the phone under her chin, grabbed some clothes, and started getting dressed. “Did she give us a time frame? If she’s calling now, it means we aren’t too late. We can still help this woman. Whoever Maya is, no one deserves to die like that.”

  “Amira said that he had plans to make, and that she had been instructed to give her sister-in-law water in the meantime, no food.”

  “Got it.” She dropped the phone on the bed while she pulled on her shirt. “Listen,” she said, “I need you to call the rest of my team and get them in.” She picked up the handset again. “Tell them it’s an emergency and that I’ll give them the full story as soon as I get there, but we don’t have much time. It’s at least a two-hour drive to Peshawar.”

  “I can do that, Miss Porter.”

  “Thank you.” She began running through the checklist of all the things she’d need to do before briefing the team. “Except Luke. I’ll call him myself now.”

  “No problem.”

  Charlie couldn’t help but smile at the slightly deflated sound of Cheryl’s voice. Everyone knew she had a crush on Luke, except Luke. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  She hung up, punched another button, and frowned when it went to voice mail. She tried again and again, each time refusing to leave a message. “Wake up, you lazy bastard, or I’m gonna come round there and drag you out of bed myself.” She put her phone in the cradle in her car and turned on the engine, punching the button and hanging up over and over again until she was greeted by a grunt at the other end of line.

  “Get your lazy arse out of bed, Luke. I need you in the office, now.”

  “I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

  “No, Luke, I need you there now. We got a
nother call from Maya’s address. They’re gonna kill her.”

  “What? ’S’okay, I got it.” She could hear the bedclothes rustling. “I’m up. I take it you need the full works?”

  “Yeah. I need everything you can find on the address, the people who live there, absolutely everything, Luke.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “And, Luke?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Make it fast. I’m gonna have to be in Peshawar by five thirty. She wants to meet at six.”

  “Don’t you need Jasper to give the okay on that?”

  “I need to be in Peshawar by five thirty, Luke. This woman isn’t dying if I can do anything about it.”

  “Understood.”

  She turned in to the diplomatic conclave and stopped before the security guards to show her ID.

  “Another late night, Miss Porter?”

  She smiled at the tall soldier. “Yeah, looks like it, Sarge.” He pushed the button and moved out of the way. She parked and hurried into the building, her hands shaking as she grabbed the door handle. Kenzie was passing through the metal detector as she walked in. “Bloody hell, you got here fast.”

  Kenzie shrugged. “I don’t sleep much.”

  Charlie emptied her pockets and walked through the detector before retrieving her stuff on the other side. “You speed.” Charlie grinned.

  “Yeah,” Kenzie said, “that helps too.” She grinned. “So what’s going on?”

  “You remember that phone call I got yesterday? While you were in my office?”

  “Yup.”

  “We got another call from the same address. I’m going to listen to the recording now.”

  “Want some company?”

  “Yeah.” She nodded at Cheryl. “Thanks for the call.”

  “You’re welcome, Miss Porter. The rest of your team are on their way.”

  Charlie led Kenzie to her office and booted up her computer.

  “You gonna tell me about the first call?”

  “A woman who called herself Maya phoned. She said she was a British citizen and wanted to return home with her daughter.”

  “You don’t think Maya was her real name?”

  “No, I don’t. I think it was a name she felt comfortable giving me. That’s all.”

  “So she wanted information?”

  Charlie grimaced. “I think she was hoping for more, but that was all I could give her.” Kenzie cocked her head in question. “Her daughter was born in Pakistan, she lives with her husband and his family, and she said she isn’t allowed out of the house. She doesn’t have her passport or any official papers for her or her child, and unless she could actually get to the embassy to ask for help, there’s nothing I can do.”

  “So what’s changed now?”

  “Let’s listen to the tape and see.” She hit the play button on her computer and turned up the volume on the slightly crackly call.

  “Hello, British Embassy.”

  “You need help her.” The woman’s English was broken and heavily accented. Charlie frowned as she worked to understand the heavily accented whispers and turned the volume up as high as she could.

  “We need to help who?”

  “Sister-in-law is to killed. She dishonour family name. He must to kill her.”

  “I understand. My name is Cheryl. What’s your name?”

  “Amira.”

  “Okay, Amira, Who is going to kill your sister-in-law?”

  “Abu.”

  “Your father?”

  “No. Husband’s father.”

  “Your husband’s father?”

  “Yes. He say must to kill her for family honour.”

  “Okay. Where is he now?”

  “He sleep.”

  “And your sister-in-law?”

  “She lock in room. Under floor.”

  Cheryl gasped. “Can you let her out? So she can go to the police station?”

  “No. No key. He sleep with key. Please you must to help her. She come from England before baby born. Send her back. Please to send her back.”

  “Jesus.” Kenzie leaned forward and shook her head. “They make it sound like she’s on a sale or return policy or something.”

  “Where are you, Amira?”

  “I…” Her voice trailed away as though she was listening to noises outside the room.

  “Amira, please tell me where you are?”

  “I must go. I cannot call again. Please to have someone meet with me in market tomorrow. I go to market at early. Get bread. Peshawar old city clock tower. I will be there at six o’clock. Must to follow me to buy bread.”

  “Amira, what’s your address?”

  “Must go. Very dangerous. Please to save her.”

  The line went dead and the recording ended. They both sat in silence for a moment, taking in the enormity of the call.

  “She didn’t give her address.”

  “No, but that doesn’t matter.”

  “Why not?”

  “I had Luke pull it after the last call. He got the number and address then. That’s how I flagged it.”

  “So if you already have the address, why did Cheryl try so hard to get it?”

  “She didn’t know we already had it, and you can’t help someone if you don’t know where they are.”

  “Fair point.”

  Charlie smiled. “You’re so gracious.”

  “I do try. So what next?”

  “Next, I brief the rest of the team on the first call and this one and then I drive to Peshawar.”

  “And when we get there?”

  “That depends on what Amira has to tell us about her sister-in-law.”

  “Knock, knock.” Luke peeked around the door. “I’ve got everything you need. JJ’s in the conference room with everyone else.”

  “Good. Thanks, Luke.”

  “No worries.” They followed him into the room and took seats. Charlie sat next to Liam and nodded.

  “So who’s going to tell me why I’m out of bed and in the office before three in the goddamn morning?” Jasper stretched his arms over his head and leaned back in his chair.

  Charlie quickly told them all about the two phone calls, watching them as they got a handle on the nuances of the case so far.

  “Okay, so we have a woman who’s looking for help, claims to be a British national, unsubstantiated, and another woman who claims she’s now going to be killed. No details on why, when, how, where, just the who.” JJ frowned. “What am I missing here?”

  “After Charlie told me about the second call, I gathered everything I could about the address and the people in there. The house belongs to Tazim Siddiqi.”

  Charlie was stunned. She closed her eyes and held her hand to her chest, her heart racing. She felt the air rush out of her lungs. It had been years since she had heard that name, and every day since, she prayed that she would hear it again, yet feared that she would in equal measure. She closed her eyes and forced the memories away. Not now. I don’t have time for this now. She knew they would have to be dealt with. She knew she would have to reconcile each and every feeling of rage and terror that buffeted her as she realized exactly what was now facing them. And exactly whose life was on the line. Oh, Hazaar, why couldn’t you just tell me?

  “Okay.” Jasper waited.

  Luke glanced at the page in his hands. “Tazim Siddiqi owns a business that exports spices to the UK. He has a partnership with Alim and Son out of—”

  “Bradford.” Charlie felt her lips moving and all eyes turn to her.

  “Yeah.” Luke frowned at her. “How’d you know that?”

  Charlie shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Sorry. Go on.” She clasped her hands in her lap and tried to keep them from shaking. She knew it was a lost cause, but it gave her something to focus on as she listened to Luke.

  “Okay, so this dude Siddiqi has been on the watch list for quite a while. But the authorities can’t get anything on him.”

  “Watch list for what?” Al asked.
>
  “Drugs. They think all those spice containers are stuffed with heroin. They moved into the house in Peshawar about eight years ago from the Khyber region. Siddiqi was supposed to be way up there in the Pashtun tribe before then, and we all know what that means.”

  “Taliban.” Hillary shook her head. “Siddiqi? The name rings a bell.” She pulled out her notebook and tapped on some keys while Luke continued.

  “He’s got two boys. The oldest, Rafi, is supposedly away. To me that means one of two things.” He held up his index finger.

  “He’s tending the poppy fields,” Liam said, “or he’s in one of the training camps.”

  Charlie shook her head slowly. Every detail she heard was one more thing she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life. Why the hell didn’t I fight harder? Why the hell did I just let you walk away? Every sacrifice you made was for nothing, and you probably don’t even know it.

  “There’s a third option,” Al said.

  “And that would be?” JJ looked at him.

  “He’s dead. Lot of that goes on in these tribal thingies, never mind the drug thingies.”

  Jasper nodded. “True. Not great, whichever is the truth, but it does explain why Amira was able to be out of bed to make the call. Increases her credibility.” He turned back to Luke. “And the younger son?”

  Hillary hit a button on her computer and a picture filled the screen on the far wall. “Yasar Siddiqi. According to all the reports, he’s the business man of the family. Squeaky clean reputation and a powerful business man. He deals with the spice companies, the officials. Trained as a lawyer, makes everything nice and official. It would appear he’s the face of the company. And he’s good. Very good. For the past eight years, the authorities haven’t been able to confirm anything.”

  “For the past eight years. What about before that?” Liam leaned a little closer to Charlie as he spoke. She could feel the heat radiating off him, and she tried to latch on to it, to let it ground her and keep her from spinning out of control as her world sped up and threatened to cast her off into the cold emptiness of her own growing despair.

  “They had someone in custody, a couple of people actually. Girls who were caught at customs smuggling heroin through into the UK.”