by Les Cowan
“To return the call key 5, to replay the message key 1, to save the message key 2, to delete key 3. For message details key 8.”
Alison picked up the phone, closed the app, and laid it back down in the middle of the table. There was absolute silence. She sat looking from one to another with an expression drained of colour and life.
“What am I supposed to do?” she said. “What in God’s name am I supposed to do?”
Chapter 18
Madrid
The landmarks of Madrid should have made it a very recognizable, attractive city from the air. As the Iberian Airways Boeing 737 banked, slowly circling, waiting for a gap in the holding pattern and space to land, David should have been able to make out at least the Las Ventas bullring, Real Madrid’s Bernabeu football stadium and the Retiro park. Unfortunately, flight paths to Barajas don’t cross over the city itself but come into the airport on the eastern side of town, over the unlovely industrial wastelands of the Corredor de Henares. But no matter; this wasn’t a pleasure trip. David thought back to the moment the bombshell dropped: Jen was calling for help – literally. Alison had just sat there looking at them all. It might have been easier if she had become hysterical and started shouting for someone to do something. But the way she just sat there, white as a sheet, trembling, meant they had to focus on Jen. Was there anything that could be done to bring her back?
Alicia had suggested they pray, which they did, but that didn’t seem like much in the face of the horror of what they had just heard. Alison excused herself for a few minutes to regain her composure as the others listened to the message again and again, repeatedly stunned and horrified.
“They’re in Spain, but they’re on the move,” said David, groping for somewhere to start. “If they needed somewhere to hide out it would be natural to go back to Cali – back to Colombia.”
“Unless the police presence is going to be too hot there as well,” Juan suggested.
“But remember, when Raúl left Colombia he was just another one of Escobar’s minions. Not a big fish in his own right. That only happened in Spain,” David countered.
“And if they take the girl to Colombia there’ll be much less chance of finding her.” Juan voiced the problem that had occurred to them all. There was a pause as they took in this even worse conclusion.
“What does puta mean?” asked Gillian. Juan and Alicia exchanged glances, then looked away. David answered.
“Puta is a whore. You know that hijo is son and hija is daughter. So hija de puta – well, you get the idea.” Jen wasn’t anybody’s little darling any more. As might have been expected, Raúl – if that’s who was speaking – had lost whatever attraction he’d had for the sixteen-year-old. Now she was just baggage, someone from outside the clan who knew more than was healthy about Señor Álvarez and his activities. David doubted very much if a ticket home would be part of the compensation package if things went wrong. So what then – simply abandoned or something worse? Raúl would be taking care of business for sure. And if Jen was bad for business…
Alison came back to a sombre gathering.
“Have you been in touch with the police?” David asked.
“Not much point in that,” she said flatly.
“I know that’s how it looks. But things have changed a bit now,” David tried to point out as gently as he could. “In Edinburgh she was with Raúl by choice. Now it’s clearly false imprisonment. That would give them something to go on.”
“Ok,” Alison agreed without enthusiasm.
“Did you try calling the number this came from?” Gillian asked.
“No reply.”
“Was it Jen’s mobile number?”
Alison shook her head.
“What about police in Spain?” Alicia suggested.
“I still have some contacts with the Policia Nacional,” David offered. “I’ll try first thing tomorrow.”
“Can they no fund whaur a mobile phone call’s fae?” Lorraine asked. In the moment of crisis the others had rather forgotten Eric, Lorraine, and the kids. Eric knew what was going on but with embarrassing memories of his last bright idea hadn’t been offering any suggestions.
“No if yir no speakin’ right then. It’s no use unless yer awready lookin’ fur it.” He succinctly closed the door on that possibility.
And that exhausted their limited stock of good ideas. Alison would contact D.S. Thompson and David would get in touch with a friend in the Spanish police – if he still worked there, or remembered who David was. Juan made more coffee and juice for the kids. The adults sat round not saying much and wondering what on earth anyone could do now. The appalling words on the answering service were still hanging in the air.
Suddenly everyone jumped as Alison’s mobile phone, still in the middle of the table, gave a beep. It was a text. Alison frowned as she read it.
“That’s weird,” she said. “It’s not from a number I’ve got listed. It’s just rubbish.”
“What does it say?” Gillian asked.
“PS 59 1 2,” Alison read out.
“Ah’ve pals that dae that,” said Lorraine. “It’s right annoyin’. Ye get a message wan day then three days later ye get a PS. An’ ye’ve nae idea whit message it’s a PS tae!”
“But it’s not a number I’ve got listed,” Alison was still frowning.
“They dae that in a’,” Lorraine continued undaunted. “They run oot o’ credit then borrow a phone fae a pal and send a text fae that. So ye’ve nae idea who it’s fae or what they were sayin’ afore. It’s absolute murder, so it is.”
“Maybe a promotion from your provider?” Juan put in.
“I don’t know. Probably nothing.” Alison shrugged her shoulders and put the phone in her bag as she got up to go. “Sorry I broke up the party. Maybe she’ll phone again,” she said, her voice empty of emotion. She had returned from desperation back to mere hopelessness. They would go through the motions but nothing would help. Nothing could be done. Nothing made any sense. If only she’d been a better mum. If only she’d been able to keep her marriage together. If only Jen hadn’t got into bad company. If only she’d been able to do all the things she hadn’t been able to do, then none of this would have happened. She smiled weakly and made for the door. As she was opening it to leave David spoke.
“Just a minute.” He had a look of concentration as if trying to work out a tricky calculation or remember something he should know but couldn’t quite grasp. “Can I see that message again?”
Alison shrugged her shoulders and came back in.
“Sure.” She pulled out the phone, pressed a few keys, and handed it to him. He glanced at it briefly then laid it down. A black leather document case was on the floor beside the coat stand. He walked over, picked it up, came back, and sat down. All eyes were on him. He unzipped the case and pulled out a Bible. He glanced again at the message then started leafing through the book. He found the place, checked again then laid the phone down and read.
“‘Rescue me from my enemies, O God. Protect me from those who have come to destroy me. Rescue me from these criminals; save me from these murderers.’” He laid the Bible down open on the table next to the phone. Juan picked up the phone, reread the message and nodded. Otherwise expressions remained blank.
“I don’t understand,” said Alison. “What’s that all about?”
“It’s not PS like in a letter,” said David slowly. “It’s PS for the book of Psalms. ‘PS 59 1 2’ is Psalm 59 verses 1 and 2. She must have a Bible. It’s a message from Jen.” Alison was shaking her head, mystified.
“I gave her a Bible. When she came to the house for her things. Just before she left I gave her the Bible my mum bought her when she started high school. I’ve no idea why. Maybe it was meeting all of you and coming to church again. I just thought it would bring her luck or something.”
“No such thing,”
Juan muttered.
“Jen’s a clever girl,” said David, ignoring him. “She couldn’t call you again but she’s got hold of a phone she can text with. She can’t send an ordinary message – whoever’s phone it is would be checking. This is a code. She has the Bible you gave her and knows you could look up the same thing here.”
“So she can say whatever she wants if she can find the right verse?” Alison asked.
“That’s right. To a degree. Within the limits of the verses she can find. So we still have to be careful interpreting it.”
“Jen’s never been the least bit interested in the Bible. How would she know how to find anything or what to call the books?” Alison asked, still mystified.
“She’s had a lot of time on her hands. She can’t read Spanish or understand TV, so what does she do? All she’s got to read is that Bible you gave her. She’ll have done some RE at school. The abbreviations are very common. So she’s reading the Bible and my guess is she starts thinking some of the passages are quite like how she’s feeling. Lots of the psalms are about being in trouble and calling for help. It’s not a great leap to think if she can get us to look up a verse we’ll know what she’s thinking. Jen is a very bright girl. She’s thought it all out.”
Alison was stunned.
“She was never interested in anything at school – after primary anyway – after, you know, we had to move. I suppose I just thought she wasn’t very good at anything so she got bored by it all.”
“Well,” David offered, “I imagine she had so many other issues in her life that school was the last thing she was concerned about. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t a bright girl. I think this is the proof. She’s got it all figured out. If she can just find the right verses then she can say more or less she wants.”
“And we can send her a message using another reference,” Gillian suggested, completing the loop. “We’d need to make sure we’re using the same version of the Bible though.” Academic referencing was an everyday part of her job and so were the problems of incorrect, incomplete, and misleading references.
“So what version does she have and what version is that?” Alicia asked nodding to the open Bible on the table.
“This is a New Living,” said David, then looking to Alison, “Do you know what version your mum gave Jen?”
Throughout this exchange Alison’s expression had gradually gone from blank, to dawning comprehension, to focused attention. Now she knew exactly what to do. She got her mum’s number and hit call. When she spoke it was brisk and businesslike. There was some hope after all. There was something she could do.
“Hi. Mum? Ali here. Do you remember giving Jen a Bible when she started high school? No, high school. Four years ago. Yes? Ok. It’s really important that you remember what version of the Bible it was. No, what version, like the King James or a modern one. Do you know?” It was a bit of an effort to make her meaning entirely clear. Mrs MacInnes seemed as confused by the question as she herself had been a few minutes before.
“Ok. That’s fine. No, I’ll hang on.” Then covering the mouthpiece, “She’s just going to look… Hi… Ok, so what was it?… Really… You’re sure?… That’s fine… Tell you later… Thanks, Mum. Bye.” Alison was smiling. “New Living,” she said quietly. “With a concordance at the back. Mum’s just bought another the exact same for a niece’s birthday. That was lucky.”
“I told you. No such thing,” said Juan, smiling.
“And whit’s a concordance when it’s at hame?” asked Eric, whose world didn’t include anything you would find in the reference section of the library.
“A word list,” David answered. “It means you can find all the verses that have a particular word in them.”
“So she can find a verse wi’ onythin’ in it she wants?”
“Exactly.”
“No bad!”
“So – ur we gonna say somethin’ back, then?” Lorraine put in, very reasonably.
“What do we want to say?” Gillian asked. “We’ve got to let her know we’ve got the message and we know what she meant.”
“But we also have to be careful whoever’s phone it is doesn’t guess it’s a real reply,” Alicia pointed out.
“So we use the same code in exactly the same form,” Gillian said. Everyone was now looking to David. He had guessed the meaning of the text and would have the best idea where to look. He thought for a second, then picked up the Bible again. He flicked through a few pages with the air of knowing exactly what he was looking for and just checking it was right.
“Ok. Send this,” he said. “‘Jen’ – except spell it ‘G E N’. Now a space then ‘3’ space ‘9’.” Alison keyed it in.
“What does it mean?” she asked.
“GEN is the book of Genesis. It’s pronounced the same so I thought that might be reassuring. Chapter 3 is after Adam and Eve have eaten the fruit God told them not to – they’d done what they knew was wrong. Then they ran away. Just like Jen. Verse 9 says, ‘Then the Lord God called “Where are you?”’ That’s to say we want to find her but she’s got to tell us where she is. That might work.” Gillian shook her head with some disbelief.
“Amazing.”
Alison sent the message and they settled down to wait. After half an hour there was still no reply so they decided it might take time for Jen to find a verse that said what she wanted then get a chance to send it. Rather than waiting fruitlessly all night they decided to split up but keep in touch. Eric, Lorraine, and the kids went home. Alison set off to see her mum and explain. Juan and Alicia cleared up, and David and Gillian headed for Bruntsfield.
“That was so clever,” Gillian said as they walked over the Meadows arm in arm.
“Not really. Bible references are my job. If it was the Dictionary of the Older Scottish Tongue you’d have got it.”
“Maybe – maybe not. Anyway. It was brilliant. Stop being so modest.” She kissed him on the cheek and squeezed his arm. Far more brilliant to David were other events in his life over the past six months. Far better and just as unexpected. But he didn’t feel he could take all the credit for these either.
Over the next few days a regular flow of messages started, haltingly at first, then more freely. It usually took Jen at least a couple of hours to reply, sometimes longer. They still had no idea how she was getting access to a phone but, however it was, it seemed to be holding up. The priority remained finding out where she was. Alison contacted D.S. Thompson, who confirmed of course that a crime was being committed. He would inform Spanish police. David tried to get in touch with his old contact but found he was on leave so there seemed nothing further they could do right then by official channels. Instead, David, Gillian, Alison, Juan, and Alicia met daily at Hacienda after work. Juan and Alicia still had a business to run so they used a back room and Tomas was imported again to help, with the offer of extra English thrown in. They agreed David should take over use of Alison’s phone as communications officer and code breaker.
Following his first reply the next message they got was ROM 15 24: “I am planning to go to Spain, and when I do, I will stop off in Rome…”, which confirmed that they seemed to still be in Spain and not yet South America. Then they got PS 121 1: “I look up to the mountains…”, followed by PS 46 4: “A river brings joy to the city of our God, the sacred home of the Most High.” So maybe somewhere in the mountains or with mountains in sight and with a river nearby. There was some discussion as to whether they could conclude she was or was not actually in a city. If the river literally brings joy to the city then perhaps it ran through it or surrounded it. Perhaps it was also a dry area so the river did indeed “bring joy”. They tested this out by sending PS 1 3: “They are like trees planted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season”, but got back PS 63 1: “O God, you are my God; I earnestly search for you. My soul thirsts for you; my whole body longs for you in this parched and weary la
nd where there is no water.” So dry area but near a river. But actually in a city or not, and if so which one? If they were in a country district things might be harder either to find out where she was or let them know in a way that made sense. Álvarez had operated previously in Madrid and that might match with “the sacred home of the most high”, which would have referred to Jerusalem when the psalm was written. It was a working hypothesis.
To check whether it was city or country David sent MT 9 26: “The report of this miracle spread throughout the entire countryside.” The reply to this took a long time. They assumed Jen must be finding it hard to get just the right verse. Then they got PR 9 3: “She has sent her servants to invite everyone to come. She calls out from the heights overlooking the city”, followed by PR 8 3: “By the gates at the entrance to the town, on the road leading in, she cries aloud.” David couldn’t help but smile as he looked them up.
“Clever girl,” he muttered.
Alison just shook her head. This resourceful, intelligent individual seemed so different from the daughter she thought she knew. The Jen she had lived with gave nothing away. At home she hardly communicated at all and seemed to be in a permanently bad mood. Her normal modus operandi was to treat the house like a badly run hotel and her mother as lazy staff. That made it ok to moan about when the laundry might be ready, why there was never the right kind of shampoo, and why all her stuff was always being deliberately moved if not outright hidden. It was a revelation to be in touch with such a different girl. The alternative Jen was ingenious, diligent, and communicative. True, the stakes were now different. Instead of just the everyday matter of who would win the battle of the bedroom – to clean or not to clean – this could easily be a matter of life and death. But even given that she had good reasons to keep in touch, the person they were now in touch with was showing surprising maturity and even some humour in spite of everything she was going through.