An Autumn Hunting

by Tom Callaghan

  ‘The Russian government isn’t going to want spice arriving on their doorstep, as if they didn’t have enough problems with krokodil already. So they put pressure on the Thais, the Thai authorities clamp down on Quang, Quang stops buying, and Aliyev runs out of money. And that won’t please the Circle of Brothers.’

  He paused, transformed his outstretched fingers into a fist, slammed it into the palm of his other hand.

  ‘And once you run out of money, you run out of power. Even you know what happens then.’

  I nodded; this part of the equation I knew by heart.

  ‘A new pakhan. A new realignment of the troops. Some promotions, some demotions, a lot of unpleasant dismissals.’

  ‘Plus the need to renegotiate with all the other pakhans,’ Tynaliev added. ‘All of which weakens the structure and causes uncertainty.’

  ‘So they all start killing each other, you announce that the Circle of Brothers is being smashed, and you shyly take the credit and have your backside measured for the president’s chair.’

  Tynaliev gave me an old-fashioned look.

  ‘Why the fuck would I want that?’ he said, genuinely puzzled. ‘I already know who the most powerful man in this country is.’

  ‘So you just gain more prestige and power,’ I said, watching as the lights turned the minister’s face a sinister red.

  ‘Oh, a little more than that,’ he said. ‘Perhaps you’ll even be able to work that out. I doubt it though.’

  Tynaliev waved his bodyguards to draw closer.

  I suppose your Uzbek tart is hanging around somewhere,’ he said. ‘Well, she has a Get Out Of Jail card this time. But tell her not to linger here.’

  I hadn’t thought Tynaliev would let go of every advantage he could seize; perhaps he was getting sentimental in his old age, but I had my doubts.

  ‘Assassinating me got you into Aliyev’s camp,’ Tynaliev said. ‘Shooting me guaranteed your credentials, and after that, following the money was child’s play.’

  Tynaliev had an odd idea of playground adventure, I thought, but kept it to myself.

  ‘What made you so sure Aliyev would send me to negotiate with Quang?’ I asked.

  Tynaliev favoured me with another of those shark smiles.

  ‘I knew he was setting up a deal. And who better to send than a man whose history as a smart guy gone rogue couldn’t be questioned? Learn to play chess, Inspector, then you can always see a few moves ahead.’

  The bodyguards surrounded Tynaliev, and the group set off towards Frunze, where I knew a long black car with tinted windows would be waiting. Tynaliev turned with a parting shot.

  ‘One more thing, Inspector. I’m sure Kanybek Aliyev is looking for you. I suggest you find him first.’

  Chapter 51

  Autumn mist still drifted through the tops of the oak trees as I walked through the park, tendrils hanging from the branches, lingering the way strangers and the homeless do as if uncertain of their destination. The life-sized statues of people set around the park paths wore the mist like diaphanous gauze scarves. It was almost noon, and I could see the statue of Kurmanjan Datka in the distance.

  To the Kyrgyz people, Datka symbolises the best in courage, by the way she led the Kyrgyz people. When the Russian Empire finally annexed what was then called the Alai region, Datka realised resistance was futile. When her favourite son was sentenced to death, she resisted the temptation to plead for mercy, refused to allow the Kyrgyz to rise up against the Russians on her behalf. She even attended her son’s execution in the hope conflict would be avoided, at a terrible personal cost.

  I reached the statue, looked around, lit a cigarette. Kurmanjan looked stern, her jaw jutting forward, hair hidden by a traditional scarf. Her impassive stone face suggested a joke would be treated as a sign of frivolity, maybe even impertinence. I guess ruling a country is no laughing matter. There was no sign of Saltanat, but then I was slightly early. My tobacco smoke drifted in a thin blue haze into the air. Something about the air told me winter was not far away, that in a few weeks, snow would cover where I was standing.

  I looked at my mobile; ten minutes after noon. I’d never known Saltanat be late, but I told myself busy traffic, a foreign city, a cross street missed. After another five minutes, a sense of unease gnawed at me, and I glanced back in the direction I’d come through the park. Kurmanjan stared down at me, impassive, resigned to whatever was going to happen.

  I saw the figure walking towards me, knew immediately it wasn’t Saltanat. The stride too masculine, the carriage of the body aggressive, not graceful. If Saltanat moved like a ballet dancer, this man lumbered like a bear, uncertain on its back legs. A little way further back in the distance, a black SUV coughed smoke, its windows tinted an impenetrable black, like a hearse with four-wheel drive.

  The man arrived at the statue, a good head taller than me and twice as broad. His broken nose and misshapen ears told me he’d once been a boxer, but not a good one. He looked at me the way a mugger assesses his next victim, spat and jerked his thumb at the waiting car.

  ‘Boss wants to see you.’

  ‘Then Boss can get his arse out of his status symbol and walk over here,’ I replied. He gave me the hard eye, not knowing I’ve encountered villains who made him look like a toddler’s doll. He paused while his punch-drunk brain assimilated the new information.

  ‘He won’t like that,’ he finally said.

  ‘I think you’re mistaking me for someone who gives a fuck.’

  He stared at me for a moment longer then walked back to the SUV. I lit another cigarette, making sure I could feel the weight of the Makarov I’d collected earlier. The smoke tasted acrid in my mouth; sweat dribbled down my back. The bear reached the car, opened the rear door, said his piece. After a moment, Aliyev stepped out, brushing the shoulders of his coat, dapper and fastidious as always. When he reached me, he didn’t offer the Kyrgyz double clasp handshake but kept his hands in his pockets. So did I, and maybe for the same reason.

  Aliyev stared up at the statue, his gaze as unwavering as hers.

  ‘She knew when to cut her losses,’ he said. ‘She knew when she’d encountered a force she couldn’t beat. She was smart: you could do worse than learn from her.’

  ‘And where’s the Russian Empire now?’ I said. ‘Not much sign of it here in the Kyrgyz Republic, if you don’t count the monuments to Soviet realism.’

  ‘You’re a man of action and a philosopher,’ Aliyev said, nodding his head as if in realisation. ‘Hidden depths, Inspector, maybe I’ve misjudged you.’

  I didn’t reply.

  ‘Just out for a morning stroll, were you, Inspector, taking the air? Or were you planning on meeting someone? A lady perhaps?’

  I touched the cold metal of the gun with my fingertips, wondered which one of us could outdraw the other.

  ‘What have you done with her?’

  Aliyev feigned a look of confusion.

  ‘Her?’

  ‘You know who I mean.’

  ‘Don’t worry, Akyl. I can call you that now we’re such close friends? She’s perfectly safe. Maybe a little bruised, but then she did kick one of my men so hard in the balls that he’s gone looking for them over in Kazakhstan.’

  ‘He may have to go a bit further afield for that,’ I said.

  ‘Well, the villages are full of stupid young men looking for a pocketful of som and the chance to look hard and impress the local sluts. Replacements are never hard to find. Keeping them alive? That’s another matter. But a minor one.’

  He dusted off the shoulders of his still immaculate coat once more, dismissing the whole matter as hardly worth discussing.

  ‘Moving on to more important matters, perhaps you can explain what happened in Bangkok,’ he said.

  I held out my hands, palms up, shrugged.

  ‘The Orient; it’s a delicate situation,’ I said. ‘Confusing, but we got the deal made.’

  Aliyev looked directly at me, eyes probing my face for signs of wea
kness, traces of lies.

  ‘I heard what happened to Quang. Quite a coincidence that he got raided just as soon as you left. And after he’d paid so much for protection over the years as well.’

  ‘Nothing to do with me,’ I said.

  ‘And one of his men, found dead, the one who was taking you to the airport?’

  ‘Again, nothing to do with me. I suppose life is even cheaper there than it is here,’ I answered. ‘He must have had enemies. Or maybe someone sending a message to him.’

  Aliyev took one hand out of his pockets, gave a maybe yes, maybe no gesture.

  ‘I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, Inspector,’ he said, ‘and then I become nervous, and I tend to get violent. So people suffer. Along with their families.’

  He paused, not blinking, eyes never shifting from mine.

  ‘Of course, you don’t have a family,’ he continued, ‘which means in order to intimidate you, I have to hurt you even more than I would most people. Unless, of course, your girlfriend means more to you than you let on.’

  I shrugged.

  ‘Uzbek, you know what they’re like.’

  ‘Good in bed though.’

  ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ I said.

  ‘Well, maybe tonight I’ll find out. I like a bitch with some fighting spirit.’

  I nodded my head as if I agreed with him. I already knew I’d have to kill Aliyev at some point. The difference now? I wanted to.

  Chapter 52

  ‘So how did you get the girl?’

  ‘Simple,’ Aliyev said. ‘We feed a little bird back in Tashkent a few dollars every month. It wasn’t very difficult to hack your girlfriend’s mobile. So when you sent a text asking her to meet you by the statue?’

  He shrugged at my folly.

  ‘Lots of statues in Bishkek. Leaving it vague like that was smart, except for one flaw. Knowing what a romantic idealist you are, we were pretty sure you’d meet here. You obviously have a thing for strong women.’

  It was my turn to shrug.

  ‘We saw her walking down Chui Prospekt, obviously arriving early to scout the territory, check it wasn’t a trap. A smart woman, your girlfriend. We grabbed her, not without some collateral damage, and here we are.’

  ‘So she’s in the car?’

  ‘Bound and gagged, but otherwise unharmed. For the moment.’

  I thought about our situation, knew what I had to do.

  ‘You know what one of the benefits of being left-handed is, Kanybek?’ I asked, in as sweet a voice as I could manage. ‘Everyone takes it for granted you’re right-handed. So they look at your jacket to see if you’ve got a knife or a gun, they watch the movement of your right hand. And that’s all very sensible. And very convenient for me.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘Well, while I’ve been telling you that, I’ve been aiming a gun about ten centimetres above your belt buckle. With my left hand. I don’t even need to draw my gun. This is an old jacket; a couple of bullet holes won’t make a difference. Right now I can blow your spine into toothpicks before you can get your gun out of your pocket.’

  I watched him assess the situation.

  ‘I want you to take your hands out of your pockets, Kanybek, but slowly, as if your fingers were poisonous spiders you don’t want to frighten.’

  I watched as he did what I’d ordered. His hands were steady, calm.

  ‘I think you’re bluffing,’ he said.

  I shrugged. He could see the bulge of the gun barrel pointing towards him.

  ‘Very possibly. But then again . . . I’ll even contribute towards the cost of the wheelchair. A comfortable one so that you can spend the next thirty years being wheeled around.’

  Aliyev’s expression didn’t change. I had no doubt he’d be a brilliant poker player. But I was holding the best cards. And his stake was his life.

  ‘How long do you think that crew of gopniki and myrki will stand to take orders from a cripple? A month? Two months? They don’t even need to shoot you. They’ll just wheel you outdoors one winter evening, jam the brakes on your wheelchair, go back indoors to smoke and drink. A pakhan freezing to death? Well, that would be a first.’

  ‘You want the girl?’ His voice was empty of all emotion. He might have been reciting the weather forecast.

  ‘I think of her as a woman,’ I said. ‘I don’t need to belittle her, the way you seem to have to. You’re not in her league, Kanybek. She’d have you dead while you were still wondering whether to scratch your head or your balls.’

  ‘We can get beyond this temporary unpleasantness,’ Aliyev said. ‘All I need to know is what really happened in Bangkok, and then we can get back to being partners again.’

  ‘Kanybek,’ I said, ‘I think this is the end of a beautiful friendship.’

  ‘You don’t trust me?’ he said, looking downcast.

  I laughed harder than I’d done in months, maybe even years. But I made sure the gun was still pointed at his belly. And my hand wasn’t shaking either.

  ‘I won’t kill you now if you release her,’ I said. ‘And if she’s been harmed, well, I’ll do some harming myself. Of the permanent kind.’

  ‘You sound as if you’ve been watching too many Hollywood films,’ he said. ‘No need for all the threats and melodrama.’

  Aliyev turned and made a circling motion towards the SUV. After a couple of moments I saw Saltanat emerge from the car, rubbing her wrists and with a look like hell unleashed. She walked towards us in a circle, making sure she didn’t get between the gun and my target.

  ‘You know I’ll find you, don’t you, Akyl?’ Aliyev said, his voice so measured you could almost miss the not-so-hidden threat. ‘And it will be me holding the gun that time.’

  ‘Neither of us needs or wants this shit,’ I said, weariness filling my throat. ‘We’ll leave now, and you don’t follow us. I’ll be in touch later and we can meet somewhere on neutral ground and I’ll tell you exactly what it is that Quang wants. You start supplying him, I stay away from the whole thing and disappear, and we’re even.’

  ‘How do I know you’ll keep your word?’

  ‘I want to live. And I don’t want to be looking at every car that drives by, every stranger strolling towards me, wondering if the shot is going to come from there. I’ve got enough information on Quang for you to put the pressure on. It’s a good deal for you, a good one for me.’

  ‘We’re both reasonable men, Akyl, one hand washes the other. If we can do that, and you decide silence is your best defence, I’ve got no reason to come looking for you. Bigger fish to catch, and believe me, you’re a minnow so small I’d throw you back in the water.’

  ‘Well, that seems a reasonable compromise,’ I said. ‘But just to seal the bargain, let’s the three of us stroll down to Frunze. Once we’re there, we take a taxi, you walk back to your gas guzzler, and I’ll call you later to arrange a meet.’

  ‘Why bother with the walk?’ Aliyev asked, but I could tell he already knew the answer.

  ‘Because you might just have an excellent shot with a sniper rifle in the back seat of your car. As long as you’re beside us, and no one can see if there’s a gun trained on you, we’re pretty safe.’

  I nodded at Aliyev’s jacket.

  ‘Saltanat, would you oblige?’

  She reached into Aliyev’s pocket, pulled out a gun. She unloaded it, checked his other pockets for spare bullets, gave him back the gun.

  ‘I don’t believe in putting temptation people’s way; I’m sure you’ll agree.’

  ‘Let’s walk,’ Aliyev said. ‘I’m getting cold, and I’m a little bored with the company, to be honest.’

  I waved to the watching men in the car, and Aliyev gave them the signal to stay where they were. I wondered if they expected me to kill him once we were out of sight in the trees, realised Aliyev knew me too well. My white knight syndrome: don’t lie, don’t do anything underhand. As Saltanat always said, one day it was going to get me killed.

  Chapter
53

  We walked back through the park, not talking, feet kicking through the swathes of leaves that had fallen from the branches overhead. It felt like walking through a church crumbling through neglect, through lack of love.

  We came out onto Frunze, just by the football stadium. I knew we’d be able to catch a taxi from outside the maternity hospital on Logvinyenko, with its endless supply of young women clutching infants bundled up in coats, blankets and scarves.

  I turned to Aliyev, held out my hand. To my surprise, I realised I didn’t entirely dislike the man. His chosen path was against everything I believed in, but I also knew he wasn’t the kind of pakhan who believed in slaughter, drive-by shootings, humiliation and rape. Unless they were necessary, of course.

  I think he was as surprised to see my outstretched hand as I was in offering it. We shook hands, briefly, and I kept my left hand buried in my pocket.

  ‘I’ll be in touch tomorrow,’ I said.

  ‘Don’t try and play every side against each other, Akyl,’ he said. ‘Try and ride more than one horse and you’re sure to get thrown, maybe even trampled.’

  He gave Saltanat the barest of nods – not risking shaking her hand – and turned, walking back the way we’d come, never looking back. If I had been going to shoot him, a bullet in the back would have told the world I was a coward.

  I turned to Saltanat, felt my heart turn over at the sight of the line of her jaw, her full mouth, her eyes the colour of mountain slate, that saw everything and gave nothing away.

  ‘I don’t think going back to your apartment is a great idea,’ she said.

  I waved at a couple of taxis that drove past, then watched as Saltanat raised an arm and a black Audi screeched to a halt. I guess taxi drivers are men after all, despite behaving like bad-tempered bastards.

  She hadn’t booked the Presidential Suite at the Hyatt Regency, but it was still several notches above my pay grade. She gave the bedazzled man at the concierge desk strict instructions we weren’t to be disturbed, then led the way to the lifts.

  ‘Why didn’t you shoot Aliyev and take our chances?’ Saltanat asked as we sat down on the edge of the bed.