by R. D. Ronald
Decker allowed Mangle to guide him to the quayside, clinging to a charred piece of crate. Between them Tazeem and Mangle managed to hoist Decker out of the water, as the sound of distant sirens diluted the bonfire crackle of the burning ship.
19
Sadiq woke in a small dark room, covered in a cold sweat and surrounded on three sides by looming pieces of heavy furniture. Panic caught in his throat, before memories of the previous day flooded his consciousness and he remembered where he was.
After being outplayed by the Mayor’s henchmen, he had instinctively run back towards his old apartment block. No one would look for him here, at least not immediately, but he still couldn’t chance returning to the apartment itself. With nowhere else to turn, he pressed the buzzer for Mrs Altrecht, and once admitted, stopped on the first floor landing and again knocked for Mr Petrov.
The old man looked surprised to see him, but not fearful, so Sadiq assumed that after their last meeting Petrov hadn’t turned him in to the police. He concocted a quick story and promised the old man more money if he let him stay a few days. Sadiq didn’t plan on being there that long. He just needed enough time to think and plan his next move.
After a few hours’ rest Sadiq knew what he had to do. All of his bridges had been burned and he had no one left to turn to. There was just one last limb he could crawl out onto, and if it broke, that would be the end of him. He reached for his phone and turned it back on. It was only 5 a.m., but he dialled the number for Raymond Burgess.
‘Raymond,’ Sadiq said as soon as the call connected.
‘Is this who I think it is?’ The voice was gruff and thick with fatigue.
‘Well played yesterday,’ Sadiq said, inadvertently answering the question. Silence echoed down the line. ‘I know, despite taking receipt of both parcels you still may feel you have some unfinished business with me, yeah?’
‘You could say that,’ he confirmed.
Sadiq thought he heard a hint of curiosity in Raymond’s voice, which was about the best he could hope for. ‘The Mayor isn’t out of the woods yet. This whole thing could still come down with him in the middle of it.’
More silence.
‘I’m handing myself in to you. I don’t want more money. I just don’t want to spend the rest of my days running, yeah? If I can help, then I will.’
One of the bound men on the floor of the cab groaned, but didn’t try to get up.
‘Not long now dick-head,’ Brian said with a smile, and prodded him sharply with the toe of his shoe.
Tony didn’t take his eyes off the road, fully focused on getting them to the Channel 10 News building. The youngest of the girls in the back continued to weep.
‘You think we’ll meet Kasey Haugh?’ Brian asked.
‘I dunno,’ Tony said.
‘Although yeah, I guess we probably will. She always takes the lead on the biggest stories.’
‘You reckon I’ll have a chance?’
‘With Kasey? No way,’ Tony laughed.
‘What would she see in a bum like you?’
‘Well, there’s the hero factor, what with us bringing all these girls to safety, out of the clutches of evil and shit.’
‘Yeah, you’re right, she will see that. Course then she’s gonna look right past you and see me, your better-looking friend who also happens to be a hero.’
Brian laughed, and it felt good. They didn’t know what else would happen back at the docks, but their part had now been played. All that remained was to drop off the girls, give their statements to the police, and hope that everything would turn out OK.
A blue light behind caught Tony’s attention.
‘Are you speeding?’ Brian asked, spotting the squad car in the side mirror.
‘No, I’ve kept it just under the limit all the way.’
‘There’s no reason for them to pull us over, then. What do we do?’
‘We have to let the truth come out. It would have been better to get to the news station first, but we can’t risk running from a routine stop or we’ll look guilty, which puts us right back in the shit again,’ Tony said, slowing the van and pulling in under the glowing yellow arches of a fast food restaurant. Despite the unsociable hour, a queue had already formed at the drive-through for breakfast.
‘We just tell them what we know and let them take it from here.’
‘How do we know they’re on the level? Decker said Steiger has cops on his payroll.’
The police cruiser stopped a few car lengths behind and two officers got out.
‘There are witnesses,’ Tony said, gesturing towards the restaurant beside them. ‘It isn’t like they could just do away with us.’
‘Witnesses to the van, yeah. And to us. But if these guys are on the take, and we get bundled into the back of the squad car, then one of them drives the van away, it’s gonna be our word against theirs that the girls even exist,’ Brian exclaimed. He pulled off his jacket and used it to cover the two bound men by his feet as best he could.
Tony looked uncomfortable. He checked the mirror again. The officers were almost at the van. He turned the ignition key, killing the engine, tossed the keys into the back of the van and looked over his shoulder at the women sitting behind. ‘Unlock the back door, quickly. When I tell you, get out of the van but don’t run. Stay in sight of the people at the restaurant. Do you understand?’
A number of blank faces stared back at him, but one woman nodded her understanding and crouched to pick up the keys.
Three taps on the driver’s side window and Tony turned, saw the stern face of the officer and wound down the window at his instruction.
‘What are you doing in this part of the city?’
‘What?’ Tony asked, surprised by the question.
‘You’ve been told to keep the vans away from the city centre. Why are you so far off the normal route?’
‘Now!’ Tony yelled to the women, who immediately began to scramble out of the van.
There was no doubt that these officers were part of the conspiracy, but once the women were out in plain sight of so many witnesses there would be no way to perpetuate the cover-up. Tony blasted the horn three times to attract as much attention as he could. He smiled back at the startled officer, whose hand hovered uncertainly over his service revolver.
‘Hold still, you idiot,’ Ted Hamilton snapped impatiently as he tried to manoeuvre himself into position by Decker’s shoulder.
‘It’s easy to say “hold still,” but this hurts like a motherfucker.’
‘It’s gonna hurt you a whole lot more if I don’t get this right.’
Decker gritted his teeth and braced himself, then howled as Ted pulled out the dislocated joint, twisted the arm and dropped it into place in a roughly fluid movement.
‘Don’t do anything stupid and that will probably heal up OK on its own,’ Ted said, offering his usual sparse reassurance.
Tazeem handed over what little cash they could afford and Ted shook his head disdainfully before sliding it into his back pocket. ‘Next time, don’t call me unless you have a lot more than this. In fact I’d rather you didn’t call me at all, but I’m guessing that might be too much to hope for.’
Tazeem, rubbing the freshly stitched incision where his chip had been removed, nodded and showed Ted to the door.
In the front room of the bungalow Mangle had turned on the TV. The Channel 10 anchor, Kasey Haugh, looked her usual picture of composure as she spoke about the sex-trafficking operation. Her dark brown hair, swept across her forehead fluttered in the early morning breeze from her vantage point down at Eastgate Docks. Her eyes were grim yet steady, the picture of professionalism.
‘The two men taken into custody earlier today, Brian Meadows and Anthony Clarke, have failed to offer anything other than what police are describing as wild fabrications as to their roles in this large-scale operation. On their information, an early morning raid was carried out at a licensed premises known as “The Club”. No evidence of involvement was
discovered and the move looks to have been a smoke screen to allow the real conspirators to evade capture.’
Decker muttered to himself and winced as he gingerly rotated his left arm.
‘Police are also saying that the explosion that first alerted them to the operation at the docks is not linked to the bomb attacks in Garden Heights earlier this month. It is believed to have been an engine malfunction and possible fuel leak that led to the blast, and they say that without this turn of luck the operation would have continued on undiscovered.’
‘I can’t believe those bastards are going to get away with it,’ Mangle said bitterly, ‘and that your friends who helped us are the ones who will have to pay.’
Decker walked out of the room and into the kitchen. ‘I’m gonna make something to eat. Anyone want anything?’
‘There’s not gonna be anything else about this on the news,’ Tazeem said. ‘It’s the same shit she said the last few times it’s been on, and the other stations have been no better.’
Mangle got up off the couch, picked the half-empty bottle of vodka from the table and walked back toward the bedroom. Tazeem followed Decker into the kitchen.
The news report cut back to the studio and a white-haired man in a dark blue suit segued into footage of another story. ‘Garden Heights Mayor, Carson Keaton, refused to comment on what mayoral aide Raymond Burgess described as “totally unfounded and slanderous lies”.’
The picture switched to an elegant, solemn Carson Keaton at an early morning press conference. ‘By striving to do the right thing for the people of Garden Heights, it appears I have made some enemies along the way.’ His slightly tired looking face conveyed sadness at those who would seek to derail his altruistic leadership. ‘All that matters to me is that I retain your ongoing support, and I promise, I guarantee,’ he added with a smile, ‘that I will deliver a future that the good people of Garden Heights deserve.’
