Dirty Business (The First Acer Sansom Novel)

by Oliver Tidy

  Sansom said nothing, but Tallis detected a slight and encouraging alteration in his posture. Following his instinct, he pressed on. ‘We don’t know for sure that Botha has her, but I agree with you that if it were the police they’d have hung around for you, providing, of course, that they had known you were around to wait for. Something else: how would whoever has snatched her have known where to find her? About the villa?’

  ‘Maybe it wasn’t her that they came for. Perhaps it was me. What if some public-spirited resident at the villa community had seen my mugshot in the newspaper, made a phone call; some corrupt copper passes the information on to Botha for a few lira. They turn up looking for me and come away with second prize.’

  They sat in their own thoughtful silences for a minute before Sansom said, ‘I’ll call them. I have their phone. I’ll offer myself in exchange for her. It’s me that they want.’

  Time was not a luxury that the men had to play with. If Eda was in the hands of Botha’s men then the longer she stayed with them the greater the chances she would be hurt, or worse. This was clear to both men without being spoken.

  ‘I agree. It’s worth the phone call,’ said Tallis. ‘At least it might buy us some time.’

  Sansom found the number in the phone’s memory and dialled. Studying him as he waited for the call to be answered, the DI saw clearly how deeply affected Sansom was by this turn of events. The guilt he was shouldering was etched into his features. His healthy aura of the day had been replaced by a drawn, shadowy look. Not for the first time in this whole horrible business, the DI, as he watched the anxiety tug at Sansom, felt acutely sad for the man. He’d lost everything in one fell swoop, been tortured with solitude, shot, set up, used. And now, just as something good had come into his life – Tallis was not a detective for nothing; he’d seen the chemistry bubbling between the pair – it was snatched from him.

  As he sat staring at Sansom, waiting with him for the voice on the end of the phone, he had no doubt that Sansom would willingly trade himself for Eda, even if it meant losing his own life one way or another.

  Tallis counted six rings before the service provider’s automated answer phone system cut in. Sansom terminated the call. He laid the phone on the table and ran his hands across his bristly scalp.

  ‘I could go to the local police,’ said Tallis. ‘They don’t have a beef with me.’

  ‘And say what?’ said Sansom. ‘That a woman you’ve been associating with who, incidentally, is wanted for questioning in connection with the assault or murder of a police officer in Istanbul, has been abducted by you-know-not-who? Providing you can find an English-speaking officer, that is, at this time of night. Sorry,’ he said. ‘I don’t think there’d be much point in it.’

  ‘Then there’s nothing else to do except wait for them to call,’ said the policeman. ‘That won’t be easy for either of us,’ he added. ‘In the meantime, we need to find ourselves somewhere to wait it out. I don’t think it would be wise for us to go back to my hotel.’

  They agreed to take a room at a cheap hotel. While Sansom protested that he couldn’t think of sleep, the DI could see he was exhausted and that if they had to wait till the morning for news of Eda, they may just as well give themselves the opportunity for rest. Like the idea or not, they would almost certainly need it.

  Close by, they found a small nondescript place that was able to offer them a twin room. Tallis arranged some cold drinks and a pocketful of coins for the air conditioning then, in miserable spirits, the pair resigned themselves to their mobile phone vigil.

  *

  The night dragged its heels. In the small hours, Sansom had needed almost physical restraint to prevent him from taking the car and randomly scouring the area in search of Eda. The futility of the idea could barely be impressed upon him, such was his desperate need to be doing something, anything. Tallis remained resolute and insistent that under the shroud of night they could do nothing but wait; wait for the phone call that would surely come. They would need patience in the game that Botha had imposed upon them if they were to stand a chance of holding on to their sanity, fighting back, and ultimately helping Eda.

  In a bid to occupy and prepare Sansom, Tallis shared his thoughts regarding what he believed were Botha’s intentions. ‘We have to accept that he is in charge,’ he said, ‘for now. We need to assume that he is playing us quite deliberately at his game. If we don’t realise what he is trying to do we can’t deal with it and if we can’t deal with it we’re on our way to failing.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ said Sansom, grateful at least for distraction from the thoughts that were tormenting him.

  ‘We have to assume the worst: that Botha has snatched Eda. He knows how this will affect you; he doesn’t know about me, yet. He keeps you on tenterhooks all night. He doesn’t answer the phone. He doesn’t call. Why? You’ve already proved yourself to be a worthy adversary; you are responsible for the deaths of three of his men, and he knows that you have designs on him. If he intends to meet you, it will be to his great potential advantage to have you tired, emotionally strung out, less rational than you might otherwise be, less alert and, theoretically, disadvantaged and thereby less of a threat. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  Sansom nodded. ‘But why not take me last night? Why not neutralise me while they had the chance?’

  ‘Did they have the chance?’ said the DI. ‘Maybe they weren’t prepared for two of you, for the turn that last night’s events took. Remember that to them you have proved yourself a real threat, someone to be respected and reckoned with. I think it’s quite possible with the unexpected way things unfolded last night that they simply reacted and made it up as they went along.

  ‘Perhaps the men who took her were simply following instructions. When they called in that they had Eda, a sitting duck, well it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Didn’t you say yourself that this is what men like Botha understand, what they deal in – a certain kind of leverage?’

  Sansom could only sit and accept what the experienced police officer, the voice of reason, was telling him. Tallis made to press home the point of his argument. ‘Now we have to use this knowledge to our benefit, even if that is only to understand the purpose behind it, so that we don’t succumb to it. Accept that there is nothing we can do for now; see the need to remain rational and objective, however else you feel, and try to get some rest.’

  With his argument made Tallis, in a bid to seal it, lay on his bed and searched for sleep.

  *

  Eventually, the typical brilliant Bodrum summer morning arrived, from which neither man could derive any pleasure. They had slept fitfully, guiltily, Tallis finally succumbing to dozing on his bed while Sansom, physically unable to lie down under such circumstances, remained either in the room’s single armchair or pacing the tiny floor space. It had been as horrible as it could be. With daylight’s arrival there was at least the evidence of time passing. Other than that, there was little comfort to be gained from it.

  The sunlight crept into the room through the flimsy curtains, edged across the stained carpet and, bathing his face in its heat and brightness, woke Sansom from his fragile upright sleep. Rubbing his tired eyes, he searched the room for Tallis. Running water indicated his location and a moment later he emerged from the bathroom.

  ‘Good,’ he said, as brightly as he could manage, ‘you’re awake. Freshen yourself up. I’ve got an idea.’

  ‘What’s that?’ said Sansom, stretching out the creases of his body.

  ‘I thought that we might take a drive out to Akyarlar, where Botha is supposed to be anchoring his yacht, see if he’s arrived. What do you say? We need some food as well and I need coffee.’

  He began gathering together the few belongings that he’d brought from his hotel, showing Sansom by his actions, if not convincing him with his words, that with the break of day there were now things to do.

  *

  The men were both outside the room with their bags, the door shut b
ehind them, before either noticed the police car parked near Eda’s car. Two uniformed officers were inspecting the broken window. As Sansom and Tallis looked on, one of them fished Eda’s handbag out of the back seat and began going through it.

  ‘Shit,’ said Sansom.

  Under his breath, Tallis said, ‘It’s nothing to do with us. We’re just a pair of tourists leaving their room early. Come on.’ He began walking.

  In order to leave, they would have to pass the policemen. Sansom dropped into step, leaving Tallis between him and them. As they approached, one of the policemen looked up, clearly interested in them, interested in any activity around a suspicious vehicle at such an early hour.

  They were almost parallel with the scene when the older policeman called to them. Sansom noticed that his hand rested on his holster. Tallis stopped and treated the man to a large smile and, in overloud tones and with much apologetic gesturing, repeated the word English three times. The policeman, realising that this buffoon wouldn’t be of any assistance, dismissed them with a curt nod and turned back to something that his colleague had discovered in Eda’s bag. Tallis led them calmly away and around the corner.

  ‘Shit,’ said Sansom, again.

  ‘Can’t do anything about it now,’ said Tallis. ‘Just keep walking. Let’s put as much distance between us and them as we can, quickly.’

  They marched along the pavement, crossed the still-quiet main highway and took a narrow turning. Moving a little quicker, just men in a hurry, not men fleeing the police, they cut down a few more quiet streets. Using the sun as their guide, they could be sure that they were continuing away from the hotel instead of walking around in circles.

  Soon enough, they found themselves at the waterfront. Having run out of land, they shared a bench. Tallis was grateful to be able to catch his breath, sweating profusely even in the early morning.

  ‘Well,’ he said, trying not to sound as despondent as he was beginning to feel, ‘that certainly puts the mockers on our transport situation.’

  He was suddenly afraid to look at Sansom. He didn’t want to see how the already-strung-out man would take this setback. He was aware of Sansom getting to his feet, pushing his holdall towards Tallis.

  ‘Look after this for me, would you?’

  Tallis stared up at him. ‘Where are you going?

  ‘There’s a coffee shop around the corner. I’ll get us something. You look like you could do with a cold drink.’

  Tallis dabbed at the sweat that was running down his temples. ‘A cold drink, something to eat and coffee with sugar if you’re offering,’ he said, trying to sound still positive. Tallis watched Sansom’s back as he strode away. He reflected that the soldier hadn’t appeared to take their transport problems too badly. A good sign. Perhaps he was getting through to the man.

  As he sat on the bench staring out over the sea, he began seriously to consider how the lack of independent transport was going to affect them. Buses would be out of the question. Possibly they could enlist the services of some local cabby. Sansom had money to play with. It might do as an option, but it would be far from ideal, even without the language barrier.

  Now that he was stationary and calmer, he found the early morning sun on his tired body wonderfully relaxing. He closed his eyes, tipped his floppy hat forward, listened to the sea as it gently lapped the stony shoreline, and, despite everything, or because of it, began to doze.

  *

  Tallis was startled from his drifting some minutes later by the blast of a car horn close behind him. Grinding his teeth at the interruption and cursing the inconsiderate behaviour of some idiot at this time of the morning, he turned to glare his disapproval at the driver. He was confronted with a big black vehicle, its windows tinted so that he was unable to see the person inside. Typical, he thought, turning back to the view, all the bloody promenade to pull up to and that fool had to park behind me.

  ‘Are you coming or not?’ called Sansom. ‘Your breakfast is getting cold.’

  Tallis swung around to see that the tinted window had now been lowered and Sansom was grinning out at him from the driver’s seat. Speechless, which Sansom seemed to enjoy, Tallis closed the mouth that he realised was hanging open in some attempt to form a question, gathered up the bags and made his way over. Throwing the bags into the rear of the vehicle, he climbed in.

  The air conditioning bathed his sweating body with its welcome cooling effects; the aroma of warm pastry and hot coffee assailed his senses; the luxurious comfort of the leather upholstery relaxed his weary frame. For a moment he gave himself up to the pleasure of it.

  He said, ‘Do I want to know where you got this from?’

  ‘Relax. I’ve not stolen it if that’s what’s worrying you. It’s borrowed.’ To Tallis’s disbelieving expression, he added, ‘It’s the vehicle I drove from Istanbul. I’d parked it up in an underground car park. You never know when you’re going to need transport. No one is going to be looking for this in Bodrum. We’ll just pass for wealthy Istanbul holiday makers.’

  ‘And what if one of the opposition should recognise it?’ said Tallis.

  ‘Let’s worry about that if and when, shall we?’

  With that, Sansom engaged the drive and accelerated away to the voice of the satellite navigation system directing him to take the next left for Akyarlar.

  ***

  21

  As they made their way along the still-largely-deserted Bodrum roads in the luxurious Audi, Tallis relaxed a little, losing his initial concerns at riding around in one of Botha’s vehicles. The pastry and drinks felt good inside him, the air conditioning felt good to his outside.

  Sansom had clearly enjoyed springing his surprise, which seemed to buoy him temporarily, but had sunk once again into a mood of silent preoccupation. As well as the regret and anger that he was clearly feeling at the loss of Eda, he also seemed to be experiencing intense guilt for what had happened to her. In reality, he had nothing to reproach himself for; that was for the people who took her.

  Without conversation, Tallis filled the void by considering what they would do when they arrived at Akyarlar. Now they were almost there, he felt a nagging twinge of regret and apprehension at suggesting the excursion.

  At the time, it had seemed like a good idea, like most that turned out to be bad ones. Sansom clearly needed to be involved in something. Tallis couldn’t imagine the two of them being cooped up in the sweat-box of a hotel room waiting and waiting for a phone call that might never come. However, now he had new worries: what might Sansom be tempted to do should they arrive at Akyarlar and identify Botha’s yacht in the little harbour?

  The voice of the satellite navigation system instructed them to take the next left on to the coastal road that Tallis recognised would see them in Akyarlar within a few minutes.

  He cleared his throat. ‘It’s risky for us to come to this place at all. We shouldn’t hang around for long,’ he said. ‘We should just look, make sure he’s here and then leave. We’ll be far more recognisable in this vehicle than we would have been in Eda’s. Besides, we’ve got the possible meeting places to find, remember, to keep an eye on, as we agreed. See if they come to check them out.’

  Sansom motored on in quiet contemplation before saying, ‘You don’t really think he’ll still be prepared to meet, do you? Not if he’s got Eda. No need. He can call the shots exactly as and when he likes.’

  ‘We still don’t know for sure that he has got Eda. Of course, it’s possible, likely even, but we don’t know. And until we do, I say we should continue with our original plan.’

  Sansom exhaled a lengthy sigh as though the whole weakness of their position had struck him afresh.

  ‘If you’re worried about me going in like a bull in a china shop,’ he said, after another mile, ‘don’t be.’ He smiled across at Tallis. ‘You’re right, until we know for sure that he has Eda and whether she’s alive and unharmed, we should exercise caution. I heard what you said last night about the game he’s making for
us. I understand and I’m listening to you.’

  Tallis was pleased to hear this. Sansom’s manner had suggested anything but what he was now saying. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘In the long run, it’s how we will best find and help Eda.’

  Before he could add anything else, they rounded the curve of the road that brought them within sight of the small, remote seaside settlement. Conversation dried up as they both switched their attention to the water far below them.

  Sansom brought the vehicle to a halt where the minibus had deposited Tallis less than forty-eight hours previously. Staying in the vehicle, Sansom let the window down. A blast of warm air surged in, swamping the efforts of the air conditioning. Taking the binoculars that Tallis offered him, he swept the bay, first one way then the other, lingering over the few bigger craft.

  ‘It’s not there,’ he said, finally.

  ‘You’re sure?’ said Tallis.

  ‘Look for yourself,’ said Sansom, He handed the glasses back but Tallis made no move to take him up on the offer.

  ‘Perhaps he’s in one of the smaller coves around here,’ he said. ‘There are enough of them.’

  ‘Perhaps he’s just not arrived yet,’ said Sansom. He appeared more puzzled than disappointed, observed the policeman. ‘Only one way to find out.’ They pulled away in a cloud of dust.

  The pair spent the next half an hour checking on neighbouring coves within a reasonable distance east and west of Akyarlar. A few craft were anchored in these, but not the one they were searching for.

  ‘Of course,’ said Tallis, trying once again to remain positive despite the disappointment of not locating Botha, ‘it could just be that our Mr Botha has found himself somewhere much safer to moor his craft, knowing that there is some crazed assassin out to settle a score with him.’

  Sansom didn’t feel moved to comment.

  *

  As the time approached mid-morning, they agreed to give it up. Tallis reminded Sansom that the possible meeting places Eda had suggested would probably start opening for business late morning in time for any lunchtime trade. Sansom repeated his doubt that Botha would bother sending anyone to look at the places now that he had Eda. But Tallis was adamant that they should be thorough and stick to the plan they had agreed, even though now they would be able to watch only two of the establishments instead of the three suggested.