by Les Cowan
With all of these messages, David felt they might be getting somewhere so got everyone together after Hacienda had closed one evening with a map of Spain, a notepad, and a Bible. Alison cornered him as he was hanging up his coat. She paused and took a deep breath as if this was something she needed to take a run at.
“I just want you to know I appreciate what you’re doing,” she began, fiddling with a neck chain and looking everywhere except directly at him. David raised his hand as if to say – it’s ok, you don’t need to – but she ignored it. “No. Really. It’s been a roller-coaster ride, you know – since Christmas. Or maybe more like the ghost train. Ever since Jen didn’t come home that weekend… I… I’ve never known what was coming next. Was it going to be police, or the hospital or… something worse? Gillian’s been telling me some of what you’ve been through. It can’t have been easy. I just want to say thanks. I feel at last there’s maybe a chance now. It’s the first time in ages.”
David nodded. “I’m glad. I was worried we were behaving like amateur detectives without thinking about how you’ve been feeling.”
“No way. And I need to say sorry for being so, well, not exactly full of confidence, you know.” She stifled a nervous laugh. “Actually, it’s really weird but I feel almost closer to Jen now than before. Before she went off with – that man…”, she couldn’t bring herself to say his name, “…we hardly ever spoke except for arguing. Just fighting the whole time. Back and forward. I was trying to get her to do things she didn’t want to. She was trying to make me let her do stuff I didn’t agree with. We couldn’t do anything good together – you know, normal things – like shopping, going for a coffee. Even a film. Anything. Now at least we’re talking – sort of.”
They paused for a moment. A tray of coffees had appeared but neither of them moved.
“You know we never had children,” David said.
Alison said nothing.
“So I have no idea what you’ve been going through. But maybe what’s been happening here – maybe this could bring you back together somehow – even though it’s been hard.”
“I couldn’t have heard that a week ago,” Alison said slowly. “Now I think you might be right. I feel like I’ve been picked up, shaken about and don’t know where I’m going to land. Know what I mean?”
“Exactly. That’s what it felt like when I got back to Edinburgh last year. Now I feel I’m back on some sort of path again. I’ve just got to see where it goes.”
“Me too.”
“Ok – let’s get some coffee before they finish all the churros.”
Juan had already laid out the map as David and Alison joined the others round the table scanning towns, cities, rivers, and mountains, wondering which one might hold the key.
“Ok,” David began. “Here’s the situation. We think she’s still in Spain. She’s in a drier part of the country which would mean central or south and probably inland. She’s in a mountainous area overlooking a city with a river nearby. So the question is – which city, which river? Any suggestions? Juan?”
“I would have said Madrid from the reference to Jerusalem,” Juan started. “Also for the connections there. But Madrid isn’t really a city on a river and I can’t think of “heights overlooking the city”. But if not Madrid then probably somewhere not too far away. Lo siento – I can’t think of anywhere else.”
“Ok,” David said. “That’s a start. Alicia?”
“The Guadalquiver is the most important river in the south but the main city it runs through is Seville, which isn’t the capital, but I can’t think of where you would say were “the gates at the entrance to the town”.
“Anyone else then? Alison? Gillian?”
Alison was looking even more confused than the others. She felt like they were trying to drop a line and Jen was trying to throw one up but neither one could quite catch on. And time was surely running out. She had no knowledge of Spain though so could only shake her head. Gillian was the only one left. She was frowning and concentrating. She spoke slowly and deliberately.
“I’m not sure about Madrid being a proper match for Jerusalem,” she said. “The capital of Scotland has moved about quite a bit. Sometimes the most important city wasn’t even the capital – it might be the seat of the church or the commercial centre or a port. Would that be true for Spain as well? During the Moorish occupation wasn’t the capital in Granada or Córdoba or some other place? And what about where the verse says, ‘The sacred home of the most high’? Does that have to be the capital?”
“Maybe not.” David adjusted his glasses and took another look at the map. “The main cities that might fit would seem to be Granada, Seville, Córdoba, Toledo, Ciudad Real – and Madrid of course. I take it we can rule out Alicante and Barcelona because they’re on the coast and Bilbao and San Sebastian because they’re too far north and not in a dry part of the country. Seville has never been the capital, though it was a key trade centre in the golden age. Córdoba was the capital but more of the caliphs than the Spanish kings.”
“Does that matter?” asked Alison.
“And what about Ciudad Real?” put in Alicia. “That was definitely a royal city – it’s even in the name.”
“Well, what about Toledo then?” Gillian asked. “Does it have a river?”
“Yes it does,” David replied, “but I can’t see how it would be the ‘sacred home of the most high’.” Juan interrupted him. “That’s because you weren’t brought up Catholic.”
“What?”
“Your parents weren’t Catholic – you didn’t go through all the Catholic rituals.”
“No. My mother was Church of Scotland. My dad was an atheist. Why’s that important?”
Juan had a glean in his eye.
“Because every Catholic in Spain knows that Toledo is the seat of the Roman Catholic Church. Toledo Cathedral is the most important of all the cathedrals – where the bishops and archbishops are crowned. Jen must have found that out. I couldn’t see it before because I was thinking of Jerusalem as the capital. Momentito Señor David. I have a road map upstairs. There might be a city map of Toledo so we can check it out.”
Juan disappeared to retrieve the map from the flat. There was a muted excitement round the table. Maybe they were onto something. He reappeared with a road map and a laptop. He handed David the map and switched the laptop on. David found the page. There it was. The river Tajo flowed round the city of Toledo, catching it in a loop. Not only that, but the course of the river was through a steep-sided gorge crossed by a single main bridge – the gates of the city. And there were the mountains, the heights overlooking the city. It was a dry part of the country but with a river running through it. City gates. Even “the sacred home of the most high”. While they were checking this out, Juan googled “Toledo Spain” and clicked the images button. In seconds they were looking over the city from the Parador Hotel on the hillside opposite the medieval town. Exactly as the texts had said – heights over the city, a road leading in, the cathedral standing out clearly against the skyline, and a river surrounding, protecting and indeed “bringing joy” to “the sacred city of the most high”. This was it. It had to be. They could be looking at a view very similar to what Jen might be seeing every day.
But they had to be sure.
“Is there anything else that distinguishes Toledo?” Gillian asked. “Anything we could ask to let her know we think we’ve got it and are just checking?”
“Certainly,” said Juan. “Toledo is the Spanish centre for working with steel – like Sheffield in England.”
“Do you think Jen would know that?”
“Well, unless she’s been kept a complete prisoner she’d be sure to notice. The old city is full of metal-working craft shops – swords, daggers, armour, pistols, that sort of thing.”
“Ok,” said David, looking up his Bible. “It’s a risk. We might have got it
wrong, in which case this’ll just confuse her. Or even if we’re right she might not have noticed, or might not have been out much. It’s worth trying though. How about this – GEN 4 22: ‘Lamech’s other wife, Zillah, gave birth to a son named Tubal-cain. He became an expert in forging tools of bronze and iron’.”
“Perfecto,” said Juan. “Send it and see what we get back.”
David keyed it in and hit Send. It was now after midnight. Jen might be asleep. She might not have access to the mobile; she might have been caught and forced to own up. They hardly dared expect anything before the morning – if then. After twenty minutes, spirits sagging, David was just about to get up and put his coat on when the message alert went off. He grabbed the phone.
“Look this up Juan,” he said, struggling to keep his voice calm. “Exodus 31 4 and 5.” Juan got there in seconds and read it out.
“He is a master craftsman, expert in working with gold, silver and bronze. He is skilled in engraving and mounting gemstones and in carving wood. He is a master at every craft!”
Hacienda’s neighbours sometimes had to put up with quite a bit of noise when there were birthday parties, works outings, and business meetings that took in too much sangria; they usually managed to keep stoical about it. That night, though, there were definite murmurings about the dreadful racket, so late at night too. On this occasion the proprietors and their guests didn’t care. There were cheers, clapping of hands and hugs all round. Toledo it was. They were sure of it.
Suddenly, in the midst of the celebrations the message alert went off again. Alison picked it up.
“PS 56 6,” she read, “then PS 22 19.”
David looked them up.
“‘They come together to spy on me – watching my every step eager to kill me… O Lord, do not stay far away! You are my strength; come quickly to my aid.’”
This was not just a crossword puzzle. It was life in the balance. Whatever had happened before, Jen was now out of her depth and desperate.
“Now we’ve got something to go on,” David said, “I think it’s time for a visit to Spain. Anyone want to come?”
So it was they found themselves slowly circling Madrid in clear summer sunshine. Alison had been adamant: she didn’t know what she could do but simply couldn’t stand being left at home. In view of the circumstances she could hardly be refused time off work. Gillian initially thought she wouldn’t get away with exams in full swing but when colleagues heard what was going on, they insisted. The common view was that the new Gillian had made things so much easier and more fun throughout the term that they owed it to her. Alicia felt torn. She wanted very much to come but knew someone would have to keep an eye on the shop. Juan was prepared to stay but she insisted he would be more use in Spain. With Tomas’s help she would manage. Alicia had also kept on seeing Julie and they had become firm friends. The chance of a summer job speaking Spanish was just what was needed for a running start into second year. So Julie joined the staff of Hacienda too.
The seatbelt sign came on and David, Gillian, Alison, and Juan buckled up and braced themselves. David knew he was bracing for more than just a routine landing.
Chapter 19
Torrejón de Ardoz
"David! ¿Cómo estás? ¡Que bueno! ¿Mucho tiempo, no?” A tall, fair-haired man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, dressed in a pale linen suit and bright orange shirt was looking out for them as they came through international arrivals. He had a broad grin on his face and gathered David up in a warm embrace in the manner of friends who have been through a lot together.
“Mariano! Good to see you. You’re right. It has been too long. Can I introduce you? Alison MacInnes – Mariano Segovia Lopez de Vega Serrano. Mariano is an aristocrat which is why he has so many names.” Mariano just smiled, clearly used to such teasing and greeted Alison with a kiss on each cheek.
“Encantado,” he said. Alison thought she liked Spain already.
“It’s Alison’s daughter we’re looking for,” David explained.
“Of course. We have been praying for your daughter since David contacted us. I’m sorry your first visit to Spain is in such circumstances.” Alison smiled weakly.
“And this is Gillian Lockhart, one of my Spanish language students.”
“Again, encantado Señora. He is a good teacher? Yes?”
Gillian took a sideways look at David and thought for a second.
“Quite good,” she said, considering. “Su gramática es bastante buena pero pienso que su pronunciación podría ser un poco mejor.” David raised his eyebrows and Mariano laughed as Gillian beamed and held onto David’s arm.
“She says his grammar is quite good but his pronunciation could be better,” Juan whispered to Alison who nodded and smiled.
“He’s great,” Gillian continued. “I’ve been learning all sorts of things I never expected.”
“Well, sounds intriguing.”
David cleared his throat and turned to Juan, changing the subject.
“And I think you’ve met this young man?”
“Juan, mi hermano. ¿Qué tal?”
“Bien. Mucho mejor al verte.” Again the two men embraced.
“Alicia – she is well? I hear you’ve had good news?”
“She’s very well, gracias. Si – it’s good news. An answer to prayer.”
“Of course. Bendiciones. God’s blessings on both of you, and the baby. Maria would love to see her. Maybe she can come to Edimburgo some time.”
“Yes, Alicia would love it. And you are looking after Warehouse 66 without our help?”
“Ah, it is a struggle but we survive. No, I mustn’t say that. Things are going very well. We miss David but we are growing again and planting some new churches. Gracias a Dios.”
“Mariano is senior pastor at Warehouse 66,” David explained to Gillian and Alison. “He took over when I came to Edinburgh.”
“He taught me all I know!” Mariano exclaimed. “Well, bienvenidos a España, everybody. I have a car in the shorter stay aparcamiento. This way please.” Mariano took Gillian’s and Alison’s bags and led them off towards one of the exits. David recapped quietly to him as they went.
“The girl got involved with drugs in Edinburgh when the family had to move to a poorer barrio. Raúl Álvarez had started up a drugs cartel in the area and took a liking to her. When he moved back to Spain he took her with him though by this time she didn’t want to go. Now we know she’s being held against her will. You remember I said we’ve been in touch with her. It’s a bit complicated but we think she’s in Toledo. Unfortunately we don’t know quite where. We also think Álvarez might be planning a move – maybe back to Colombia – so time’s not on our side. Scottish police have been in touch with the Policia Nacional drugs team but we haven’t heard from them yet. And that’s basically where we’re up to.”
Mariano was looking serious as they exited the main building and headed along the walkway towards the car park.
“Álvarez is a dangerous man; you know this already. Many of our young people have escaped but they are still afraid of him. He can be very brutal. It would make a huge difference for Torrejón, Madrid and Spain if he were no longer in business.”
“De verdad, but all we want at this stage is to get the girl out and back home in one piece.”
“I understand. You know you will have every help we can give you. Warehouse 66 has grown a lot even since you left. We have people with some influence now as well as many who know the drugs trade. We can find things out. Anyway, you will stay with us till you decide what to do and come to church tomorrow?”
“Absolutamente. Muchas gracias.”
“And your friend, Gillian…” Mariano pronounced the name with a soft G like Gigi, “I think she is more than just your student. No?”
“Yes. More than just my student. She’s been teaching me to live again. God is good
. And I couldn’t have said that six months ago.”
“We knew how hard things were before you left and we were worried about how you’d cope away from your friends. It sounds like there was some kind of a plan going on after all.” Mariano had led them to the ticket dispenser and was feeding coins into the machine one after the other.
“Yes. It’s been very strange. I felt I was on the verge of losing everything. Then getting involved in looking for this girl brought Gillian into the picture. It’s really saved my life I think. It’s funny; none of the facts have changed – you know, about Rocío, Raúl, what happened. But at the same time everything is different. I’m a different man these last few months. There’s a reason to get up in the morning again.”
“Bueno. I’m glad. We pray for you often. Maria will be so pleased you have found someone. She is a creyente? A believer?”
“On a journey, I think you’d say.”
“Bueno. We will continue to remember you both.”
By this time they had stopped at a large van with Warehouse 66: Un lugar para encontrar la Vida in large letters on the side.
“I’m sorry for the primitive transport,” Mariano said as he slid open the side door and lifted their luggage into the back. “We have a kids’ club, the Club de Amigos, every Saturday morning so I have to be the bus driver for them before I come for you. I think we have emptied all the rubbish out. Señoras…”
Alison and Gillian climbed in the back while David and Juan shared the worn and faded front bench seat with Mariano. Juan explained the meaning of the signage on the van to Alison as they got in.
“It means ‘a place to find life’. It’s our logo. I helped choose it a few years ago. That’s what Warehouse 66 means to me and many others.”
Mariano started the noisy, smoky engine.
“Everyone is desperate to see you again.” he said, “and to meet the Señoras. Patricio and Jorge suggested a barbecue, so I have left them getting things ready.”