by PAUL BENNETT
He thought for a moment, looked at Natasha and squeezed her hand. ‘Riding off into the sunset sounds fine by us.’
I turned to Scout. ‘How’s your father getting on?’
‘He’s mending. It took a while to get the drugs out of his system and for the burn on his back to start healing, but he’ll be all right. Be out in a day or so.’
‘Get him out tonight,’ I said.
‘But why?’ she asked.
‘Bear with me for a minute and I’ll give you the answer,’ I said.
I got up from the table, walked across to the table where the drinks were and refreshed my vodka. I took a sip and realized I was just playing for time.
‘As I said earlier, we fulfilled our contract. But there’s one big problem. We poked a stick in a hornet’s nest which leaves some unfinished business. What I’m going to ask is a lot. I won’t blame anybody who wants to get out.’
‘I’m with you,’ Bull said.
‘You don’t know what I’m going to ask yet.’
‘I’m not as stupid as I look. I saw the people at the holding station too. I think I know what the situation is.’
I looked at Gus. ‘Let’s go through it from the top. Carlo, in his normal impetuous way, basically signed over the bank to Almas. And Almas has fingers in many pies. Drugs, gambling, prostitution to name just three. And there’s worse to come. When I looked at the medical records and at the people at the holding station, one thought struck me.’
‘They’re all young and fit,’ Bull said.
‘Perfect transplant material,’ I said.
Scout looked at me and started to get the picture.
‘Yes, they are sold into slavery, but they’re also being prepared for their young and fit organs to be donated to the highest bidder. That’s where the hospital fits into the Almas portfolio. When someone needs a transplant – you remember the old lady you met at the hospital, Bull? – a suitable donor is located and shipped there.’
‘Never felt better, she’d said. Liver of a twenty-year-old. Ties in.’
‘So the people – the illegal immigrants – take up some position for which Almas gets paid. Then when someone comes along needing a transplant, they pick the most suitable person from their human stock.’ I turned to Natasha now. ‘When I spoke to Anna last time she said that girls had left the casino before, but she’d never heard anything from them. I wonder why. I even reckon that it wasn’t only Carlo they were searching for: Natasha might have been singled out as a donor – if you use that word when it’s not voluntary. She could have been valuable to them. That’s why Almas has gone to such trouble.’
‘Oh, God,’ Scout said, going white.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘When Natasha and I were at the hospital today we bumped into Anna. She said she was being admitted for a full medical before being allowed to leave to take up a new life. You don’t think—’
‘It’s precisely what I think,’ I said. ‘I want to stop this trade in human organs, release those inside the hospital and put the fear of God into the staff there. This has to stop now before another innocent person gets killed for the greater good of the rich and wealthy.’
‘So that’s what you want us to do?’ asked Red. ‘Raid the hospital? Hell, it’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel. Count me in.’
‘There’s more,’ I said.
I fell silent for a moment, contemplating what had to be done to put things right.
‘Spit it out, Johnny,’ said Gus. ‘Or would you like me to take a guess.’
I nodded. Couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
‘We know that Almas,’ Gus said, ‘has its claws in the European operation – pardon the pun – of Silvers. Using the bank to launder its filthy lucre. You’re afraid that the same sort of thing has happened in America. Am I right?’
‘Having Ms Oakley – Bellini as is – as your compliance officer is like putting the fox in charge of the henhouse. I think they control the New York operation and have their eyes on Europe. Carlo’s disappearance presented them with a golden opportunity to get involved in the Amsterdam operation.’
‘So what are you going to do?’ Scout asked.
‘I’m working on a plan,’ I said. ‘But first I’m going to hit the hospital. If anyone wants out, now’s the time.’
‘Hell,’ said Red, ‘I haven’t had such fun for years. I’m with you all the way.’
‘I hate to admit it in front of the lovely ladies,’ Pieter said, ‘but I wish I was fitter. I’m not the man I was.’
‘None of us is,’ said Bull, ‘but that doesn’t mean they can write us off.’
‘I’m in if you’ll have me,’ said Pieter.
I looked at Stan. His face was the usual solemn picture, betraying no emotion.
‘Where would you be without me?’ he said. ‘You’re the sort of guy who would forget the pickled cucumbers. I’m in.’
‘Bull,’ I said, ‘I wouldn’t blame you if you had mixed emotions about this. If you weren’t tempted to take the opposite route. The odds are probably good that the hospital could find a match for Michael. Would scour this continent and all others to find the right donor.’
‘And how would I live with that?’ he said. ‘Every time I looked at Michael I would be thinking of the poor innocent kid who’d died for him. One thing I’ve learnt from you over the years is that you have to do the right thing – a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. If you don’t have standards, you’re no better than the guy you’re trying to kill for the evil he’s doing. You have to be able to look at yourself in the mirror when you’re shaving and feel proud of what you see, otherwise how can you live with yourself? I’m in.’
‘OK,’ I said. ‘I didn’t want to mention this until I had your answer. Money.’
‘Who gives a damn about the money,’ said Red, ‘when you’re having so much fun?’
‘Scout,’ I said. ‘You and your father can keep the million euros from the bearer bond he cashed. That’s for your contribution to helping to find Carlo. We’ll split the remaining eight million between us. I don’t see why Roberto should get a cent of it back. And, if I have my way, it wouldn’t do him any good if I handed it over.’
‘Sounds like you have a plan,’ said Gus.
‘It’s nearly there,’ I said. ‘But first I have to meet my mother. There’s a question she has to answer and I’d rather like her approval for what I intend to do. It needs to be soon, Gus. Can you arrange it?’
‘I’ll pull in a favour,’ he said.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s meet again in an hour. We have a hospital to visit.’
25
We went en masse to the hospital. It wasn’t that I expected to need all of us to achieve the task in hand, but a show of strength never does any harm. Scout went directly to her father to get him out as quickly as possible. I positioned Stan at the left-most H block, Red at the right and Bull at the rectangular building. Pieter came with me to the rotunda.
The same receptionist was on duty, as immaculately made up as before. She gave us her practised sincere smile and asked how she could help.
‘I’d like to speak to the person in charge,’ I said.
‘Do you have a complaint?’ she asked. What a question to ask in a hospital. ‘Because,’ she continued, ‘we have a special form for that.’
‘Complaint?’ I said. ‘I suppose you might call it that.’
She handed me a form and I wrote the following words on it – I want to talk transplants. Do you want me to go to the media with what I know, or will you see me?
I handed her the form and asked her to get it immediately to the person in charge. She picked up the phone and dialled a number. Little Miss Clipboard appeared. She took the form and went away. It was maybe five minutes before she reappeared – five minutes when the mind of the person in charge must have been in turmoil.
‘If you’d like to follow me,’ she said.
I turned to Pieter. ‘You speak
Dutch, don’t you?’
‘Ja.’ he said.
I hoped that wasn’t the limit of his knowledge.
‘In South Africa many people still speak Dutch – a legacy of the old Boer days.’
‘Stick close to the receptionist,’ I said. ‘Make sure she doesn’t make any calls she shouldn’t.’
He nodded and went to the other side of the counter, sat on the desk and looked the receptionist in the eye. ‘Now,’ he said, ‘let’s get to know each other better, Brown Eyes.’
I was led to a large office at the back of the rotunda. There was a sign on the door that said DR VAKANTIE, CHIEF ADMINISTRATOR, in bold capital letters to show the importance of the owner of the title. The office had a panoramic view of the manicured lawn through its round window, a further signal of the status of the occupant. There was a long black rectangular table with eight chairs, black with chrome arms and legs, around which meetings could be held. In the middle of the table was a vase of flowers whose delicate perfume filled the air. Behind a mahogany table sat a man in his late fifties with thin greying hair. He had on a dark-blue suit, light-blue shirt, striped tie and half-moon spectacles. He peered over the glasses at me, trying to make some sort of judgement which would help him to bullshit me.
I walked over to the desk, sat down on a chair opposite him, undid the jacket of my suit and looked him in the eye.
‘How long has it been going on?’ I said.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he said.
‘In that case why are you seeing me?’
There was a pause, followed by a cagey question. ‘So what is it you think you know?’ he said.
‘You’re running a special deal on transplants. No waiting, perfect match, fit, young organs that will last a lifetime. But not for those you get them from.’
‘I suppose it’s money that you want?’
‘An admission would be good for a start. Although the offer of money implies an admission.’
‘You really should be talking to our owners, Almas. I’m sure Mr Garanov would be pleased to deal with you.’
‘We’ve met already. And the feeling would be mutual. But right now I can’t wait for Garanov and his goons to show up. I’ll tell you the deal.’
He leaned forward in his chair.
‘I want every person here who is due to be a donor released straight away. In return, I’m willing to take your word that this practice will cease.’
‘I can’t make any such deal. Even if I knew what you are talking about.’
I sighed. Took the Browning from the shoulder holster inside my jacket. Turned round and fired at the vase of flowers. There was a short phut from the silencer and the vase shattered. The flowers dropped and water spread over the tabletop. I turned back to Dr Vakantie. His face was white and his hands were shaking.
‘Look into my eyes, Dr Vakantie. What do you see there? Do you think I’ll show you any mercy for what you’ve done? The next shot I fire will be through your elbow. The one after that will be through your knee. You’re a medical man. You know what damage that will do. And if you don’t do what I want after that, the final shot will be through your heart. What’s your decision?’
‘You can’t come in here waving a gun and threatening to kill people. Where do you think you are – the Wild West? This is a civilized country.’
I shot him through the elbow.
He gave a whimper, stared at me incredulously and grabbed his elbow. Blood ran down his fingertips.
I stood up, walked around the desk and spun him round in his chair. I put the gun on top of his kneecap and let him feel the pressure.
‘OK,’ I said. ‘Let’s get this over with one way or the other. I’ll give you a count of three.’
‘No,’ he said, shaking his head rapidly. Panic had replaced the earlier calm. ‘Don’t shoot. You can have what you want. Anything. Just don’t shoot.’
‘Make a call,’ I said. ‘Someone who will take me round the rooms and point out any that are due to be operated on. I’m taking them with us.’
He picked up the phone and punched a button, his hands still shaking. Relayed my instructions to the person on the other end of the line.
‘Now call reception,’ I said. ‘Tell the woman to come up here and to bring my friend Pieter. She’ll know who you’re talking about. For all I know they could even be engaged by now.’
He did as he was told. I never doubted it. I went and stood by the door. Let in the receptionist and Pieter. The receptionist knew there was a problem, but didn’t know what it was. She didn’t have anything to worry about, just as long as she didn’t start screaming.
‘Keep Dr Vakantie company,’ I said to Pieter. ‘Make sure he doesn’t feel the need to talk to anyone outside this room. I’m off on ward rounds. I’ll call you when it’s time to go.’
Miss Clipboard came along the corridor and I intercepted her.
‘You have your instructions,’ I said. ‘Lead the way.’
As we left the rotunda I saw Scout. Her father was sitting on a bench. He looked better than when I had last seen him, but that wasn’t saying much. His face was still pale and he seemed to be staring into the middle distance. Scout started to come towards me.
‘How many people are we talking about?’ I asked Miss Clipboard.
‘Nine,’ she said.
Nine! The scale of the operation was frightening.
‘Can you order cabs?’ I asked Scout. ‘Enough for us and nine people. We go back to the hotel and the rest to the airport. We’ll be ready in about ten minutes.’
‘OK,’ she said. ‘How did it go?’
‘He was stupid,’ I said. ‘I had to shoot him in the elbow. Came close to losing his kneecap too. Can you mastermind the transport while I collect the people?’
‘Leave it with me,’ she said.
I turned to Miss Clipboard. ‘One of them is called Anna – don’t know her second name. I want to see her first.’
She consulted her board and nodded. ‘This way,’ she said.
We went into the left-most H-shaped building. Stan was on door duty.
‘All quiet,’ he said.
‘Not for long,’ I answered. ‘You’d best join me. I think I might need an interpreter. There’s a hell of a lot of explaining to do.’
Anna’s room was a replica of the one that Scout’s father had occupied. Same hotel-style furniture, same missing trouser-press. Anna was in bed, sitting up reading a book and leaning back against about four pillows. She had less make-up on than usual, but still looked a million dollars. She smiled as we entered.
‘Johnny,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here?’
I explained the con that had been played on her and the others. She shivered at the thought of her internal organs being plundered and at the death that would surely follow.
‘Have you got your passport?’ I asked.
‘Yes, they gave it back to me before I came here.’
‘Get it, Anna,’ I said. ‘Then get dressed. We’re leaving in five minutes. Meet us out front.’
Anna and the eight other people were all in the same quadrant of the building. At first we started to explain, but it was taking too long and we had to resort to telling them to get dressed, grab their passport and meet us outside. When the whole nine were assembled, we explained the situation fully, Stan translating for those whose English wasn’t up to it.
I walked round the group. ‘Here’s a thousand euros each,’ I said. ‘That will get you on a plane home. When you get back, tell everyone what’s happening here. We have to stop this trafficking.’
I handed out the money. Anna took hers and shook her head.
‘Can I stay with you?’ she asked. She blushed. ‘I meant just for a while, till I get myself sorted out and know what I’m going to do.’
‘I’d be honoured,’ I said.
A tear came to her eye.
‘No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.’
‘Then you’
ve only ever known fools.’ I took her hand. ‘Come on, let’s go. It’s time to start a new life.’
26
We had hurt Almas twice now. Once more would finish them. I only hoped that it wouldn’t be the finish of us instead. My plan was a big gamble, but before I put it into effect I had to talk to my mother. Apprise her of the situation and get her approval for the actions that had to be taken. She was flying over from London this morning and I was already getting nervous. It wasn’t just that there were inherent dangers in my plan and consequences to pay, but she would need to fulfil the final part of the bargain struck – naming my father. Would I be ecstatic or disappointed? Proud or ashamed? Would it have been better to leave well alone, let the sleeping dog lie? I would know soon enough.
The hotel was now full. What had started out as a safe house for the six of us, now included as well Scout’s father, Carlo, Natasha and Irina, and of course Anna. The woman who ran the hotel must have thought that she’d won the lottery. The old shabby dress had gone, replaced by a pin-stripe blouse and a dark-blue skirt. The shoes were new too. Nothing was now too much trouble for her – the breakfast had improved, the ice in the bucket was constantly replaced. But she still had her eccentric ways. When we asked for coffee when we got back from the hospital she had shaken her head and insisted that we have caffeine-free hot chocolate instead. A big jug arrived and we sat around in the shabby lounge and thought of what had been done.
Scout’s father sat in one of the armchairs and sipped his chocolate. He still had that seen-it-all-before look of an ex-cop. He was still pale from his trauma and this accentuated his heavy five o’clock shadow. His greying hair was cut short and was practical if not stylish. He looked me in the eye with a raised eyebrow.
‘Scout says that you don’t want the money back,’ he said. ‘Is that true? We can keep it?’
