From Nemesis Island

by Christine Mustchin

  Richard nodded.

  ‘Eventually I found my conscience and stopped my regular visits to the island. But it was too late. My attempts to distance myself from the trafficking were futile. It was simple to blackmail me into continuing. I could not face the disgrace of my sins being made public. Recently I made another stand but, as you yourself witnessed, violence is an easy tool of persuasion.’

  ‘So that’s why you’d been injured.’

  ‘Exactly; but it is all over now. The girl you saw in the house is the last I shall send the island.’

  He stopped talking and for a moment the room was quiet. It was Richard who first disturbed the silence.

  ‘Does it really pay to educate girls if they are to be sold as sex slaves?’

  ‘Believe me it does. It is very profitable. There is a good market for high-class prostitutes. This does not mean there is no cruelty or oppression, but, because those involved are part of an elite social system, it is not easy to identify. The rich and powerful can always cover their tracks. I believe there may also be other illegal activities based on the island but I know nothing of these. Evidence is hard to come by.’

  ‘But that’s really what I need for my story.’

  ‘And are you only after a story Richard?’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Is your interest in the island simply to write about what you discover?’

  ‘What else could it be?’

  ‘Are you not interested in stopping this evil?’

  ‘I thought you said it was impossible.’

  ‘That does not mean we cannot make the effort.’

  ‘Well, writing about it is a pretty good way of getting people to know what’s going on.’

  ‘That is true, but your contribution would be no more than a small fluttering leaf in a vast forest of evil and corruption in the world. It would soon be trampled on and forgotten. I can give you a chance to be a part of a story that could stop one tiny flowering of wickedness. You would no longer be an outsider but seeing it from within, someone with a role to play.’

  ‘But I have your testimony now. What more do I need?’

  ‘The words of one man spoken to another without corroboration are worth little, as you must know yourself. I can give you access to documents that will give you written confirmation of my story from someone else, and provide evidence that can be used to make a difference.’

  ‘And what are these documents?’

  ‘One is the confession of the chief of the island as dictated to me and witnessed by me. It is in my safe-keeping, together with his will and a codicil which is to be put into force if, for any reason, the terms of the will are not fulfilled.’

  ‘Can I see them?’

  ‘Not until after the chief has been buried. Nothing is to be made public until then.’

  ‘But that could be years.’

  ‘No, no. The chief has been suffering from terminal lung cancer. He is already dead and his funeral is tomorrow. I shall be officiating.’

  ‘What do the documents disclose?’

  ‘The confession is a long personal statement familiar only to myself at present. It includes details of networks used in trafficking the girls. The will bequeaths the island to the church. The codicil is sealed and I am ignorant of what it says, though I do know it concerns the chief’s brother, Jalbis Zachion.’

  ‘So what do I have to do to get to see these documents?’

  ‘The will is to be placed in the hands of a lawyer on the day after the funeral. You can see the other documents later, but you will need to leave your hotel and go into hiding for a while first. If you do this you will meet two people who know the island in more detail than I do. They have been living there. One was officially the chief’s mistress though, from what she tells me, the relationship was clearly more than that. Her name is Kia and she is already in hiding. I hope to bring the other person with me after the funeral. You can travel together.’

  ‘This all sounds a bit far fetched. Why the need to go into hiding?’

  ‘I shall leave Kia to explain that to you. If you decide not to join her then it is better that you know nothing more at present, and that you leave immediately. Staying here to try and find things out on your own would be too risky after your attempt to reach the island. Only a foreigner would do something like that. You would be an immediate target. I want you to think about what I’ve said. Come to dinner tomorrow night and let me have your answer.’

  ‘I can’t really believe all this.’

  ‘You will in time.’

  ‘Very well. I’ll see you tomorrow night then.’

  Richard switched off the recorder and got up to leave.

  ‘One more thing, Richard. Please do not try and contact anyone abroad for the moment. It is safer that way.’

  4

  Richard had switched off his mobile phone on returning from Father Piontius’ house. He wished he could have switched off his subconscious too. Dreams flashed in and out of his sleep, each one more fantastic than the last. Pirates capturing slaves, mixed with glamorous female secret agents held to ransom for vast sums of money and random scenes of torture all plagued him as he slept in a fitful restless state throughout the night. Exhausted and disgruntled by the images that came unsolicited to distract him, he woke fully at dawn to a dull day of heavy cloud and promises of rain. He instinctively reached out for his mobile, surprised to see it not on. As he recalled the previous night, he saw his dreams as grotesque illustrations of a peculiar and unfamiliar new reality. He disliked being out of touch. He was out of control and vulnerable. It was as if a part of him were missing. Communication was his metier, his guarantee. The thought of being sequestered, completely incommunicado from the world he knew, even for a short time, did not please him at all. What would his companions be like? Kia would be attractive, no doubt, but who was the second party? He could easily go home today, write up what he knew and draw a line under the whole affair. The alternative was to face a long, boring day and an unknown quantity of further tedium in the company of strangers. He could see no way of improving on his choices and such a feeling of impotence had had a physical effect. His morning erection had been absent, a cause for irritation rather than concern, he decided.

  He showered and changed and braved the horrendous coffee at the breakfast table. He sat looking blankly across the room, fidgeting with his spoon until the glares from the waitress recalled him to his usual composure. He placed the spoon delicately beside his cup then, seized by a sudden inspiration, he stood up quickly, scraping his chair on the stone floor. He smiled apologetically to those left in the room and ran upstairs and grabbed his coat. He headed straight for his car and lost no time in opening the window to expel the fusty air that lingered despite his best attempts. The cool air of the morning eventually did its work and forced him to give in to the staleness of the interior with its inefficient heating. The drive was not unpleasant. As he pressed down on the accelerator, he felt his tension ease and his thoughts clear. He slowed a little to take in glimpses of the attractive countryside and, it was at that point, that he took note of the car. It had been behind him for a while now and he had thought nothing of it as he had travelled at speed. Now it was still behind him, even though he had decelerated. It was a distinctive black four by four vehicle with two guys in the front seats. They looked smartly dressed in what looked like dark suits and striking red coloured ties. He speeded up again and so did the car. He slowed down and they did likewise. As an exercising in tailing someone it was not very subtle and they were obviously not concerned to be noticed.

  He hit the outskirts of the city and made for the centre. The car followed. It took a while to find a parking space and, by then, he was convinced he was alone. He headed for the old town quarter and relaxed. For a while he wandered through the maze of medieval alleyways and narrow streets, lost in its architecture and atmosphere. He stopped for a coffee and sat looking at the people who passed by, myriad persons from all strata of life.
He watched as they beat out the pace of daily urban life. Across the road in another bar, the two young men in dark suits and red ties also sat watching the street. Richard noted them as he got up. With his mission in mind, he headed for the open-air market and was rewarded by a view of humanity packed shoulder to shoulder: a jostling, shouting confusion. He was no expert in subterfuge but, by dodging and weaving in and out of the stalls and shops, he convinced himself that he had lost the two men. He entered a shop and handed over the cash for two mobile phones. The transaction took longer than he had expected, though information leaflets with English translations helped. He had a pleasant return journey and saw no sign of the four by four. Back at the port he left the car in the place he had become accustomed to using near the hotel and went to get ready to meet Father Piontius.

  5

  Jalbis Zachion adjusted his plain black tie and looked in the mirror. Attention to detail was everything in personal matters as in work. There was little of the funeral arrangements that did not bear his mark. He had been happy to leave the choice of the flowers to Juditta, but she had had to concede almost everything else to his wishes. They had fought over every single point from the choice of burial or cremation to the invitations to send. Only on one point had he been thwarted. He would have preferred a high-ranking church official to have presided, but Juditta insisted on the local priest and would not succumb either to persuasion or threats. It seemed Joseph had written a valedictory note requesting his presence. With irritation Jalbis had agreed and now regretted his decision as he watched the final stage of the ceremony unfold around the grave. A bishop or cardinal would have leant so much more gravitas to the scene. He knew two or three who would have obliged for the usual favours. It was a bleak scene under a dark sky in the shadow of the grey rock of the volcano. Black figures crowded around as the coffin was lowered into the ground. As the incense was ceremoniously waved over the grave, its smoky wisps tracked upwards. Jalbis watched as they faded into the gloom of the sky. A thousand feet above, another trajectory began. From the depths of its crater, intermittent bursts of steam rose from the volcano, unexpected and unheeded.

  A fine drizzle had started by the time they reached the cars and Jalbis was glad to be returning to the comfort of the reception hall and sustenance. For once the whole population of the island came together, the girls with dazed expressions at the lack of supervision, the men, similarly unchecked, roaming freely and taking advantage of the girls whenever possible. The teachers huddled together and those involved in Jalbis’s DVD business formed a similarly detached group. Representatives from the mainland were few and scattered about the room. Jalbis helped himself to champagne, a suitable send off for his brother. He had not spoken to him since his meeting to request more money but he was not surprised to receive the call telling him of his death. Quicker than even he had imagined, but cancer was unpredictable in its course. He looked around the room with a warm glow that came not just from the alcohol. All this was his now. He felt sure of that. He had heard no more talk of wills or inheritance and had already started planning the changes he would make. His sister could be pacified or persuaded to leave, and he would have no qualms in taking more drastic action if necessary. One thing bothered him though. All this was coming his way but he lacked a catharsis that would have purged the ill feeling he still felt towards his brother. To avenge himself on the chief’s last erotic dalliance would be an appropriate conclusion. He looked around for Kia. Disappointed to find her missing, he withdrew to one side and opened the letter that Juditta had handed to him earlier in the day. It was in Joseph’s hand. When he had finished reading it, he no longer glowed with the thought of prospective ownership of the island. Once again his brother had had the upper hand. And to leave it to the church! What on earth possessed him? With difficulty he controlled his anger and applied some logical thought to the situation. There was obviously a will. All he needed to do was find it and destroy it. He would start with Juditta. He bet she knew more than Joseph’s letter told him. She was talking intently with Father Piontius. Jalbis approached them.

  ‘Juditta, my dear,’ he said insincerely, kissing her lightly on the cheek, ‘and, Father, thank you for the service.’

  He shook hands with the priest and continued to address him.

  ‘Would you mind if I had a few words with my sister?’

  ‘Of course not. You will have so much to discuss. Please accept my sincere condolences at this sad time. God be with you.’

  Father Piontius moved away and Jalbis was free to talk. He guided Juditta to a quiet side room and closed the door.

  ‘What’s all this?’ he shouted, waving the letter frantically in front of her.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Read it.’ He shoved the piece of paper into her hand. She scanned it quickly and handed it back.

  ‘I know,’ she said simply.

  ‘You know?’

  ‘Yes. He told me what he was going to do.’

  ‘And you didn’t object?’

  ‘Of course I did. At first I argued with him every day. But as time went on, I thought about it differently. I’m a trained teacher after all. If the church carried on using the island for educational purposes I could still work here. It’s my home.’

  ‘That would clip your wings a bit,’ said Jalbis sharply, ‘no girls for you to play around with.’

  ‘I’d thought of that too. There would be plenty of nuns around. They’re not all saints, you know.’

  ‘You’re disgusting.’

  ‘And what about you? Never fucked anyone in your life have you? Can’t get it up. Just not interested, so what do you do instead? I call those DVDs of yours revolting.’

  Jalbis decided a change of approach was needed.

  ‘Let’s keep our voices down. This is supposed to be a solemn occasion.’

  ‘What – with all the men screwing the girls in any odd corner that they can find. Some solemnity.’

  Jalbis shrugged.

  ‘Look, it could all be different. All we have to do is destroy the will and the island is ours.’

  Juditta stared at him.

  ‘That might suit you very well but what about me?’

  ‘I’ll make sure you’re all right,’ he replied.

  There was a pause.

  ‘Somehow I don’t believe you.’

  ‘That’s up to you.’

  ‘Anyway you don’t have the will.’

  ‘But you know where it is, don’t you?’

  ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘It’s no good, Jalbis. What’s done is done. Just leave it and get on with your life in surgery. I’m going back to the reception now.’

  She left the room. Jalbis followed her slowly and helped himself to more champagne. Though he drank quickly, it did not help to alleviate his sense of anger and humiliation. He saw Juditta and Father Piontius in conversation again. This time their conference was brief and he watched while they left the room together. It did not take much to guess where she had found shelter and Jalbis Zachion knew exactly what he was going to do.

  6

  ‘How did your brother receive the news about the will?’

  At last Father Piontius risked the question that had been at the forefront of his thoughts throughout the funeral. They were the only passengers on the speedboat and the noise of the engine prevented their being overheard by the crew. The motion of the boat caused their bodies to sway from side to side and their faces were intermittently lit by the lights of the approaching shore as the boat swerved on its way. She looked back at the island receding with speed from their vision.

  ‘Badly. He was still under the impression that the island was to be left to him.’

  ‘It was to be expected. What do you think he’ll do?’

  ‘He wants to get hold of the will and destroy it. That way both he and I would inherit the island.’

  ‘Does he know what would happen then?’

  ‘No. I didn’t tell him a
nything.’

  ‘We must be careful though. We’ll talk about it when I’ve got you safely to my house. There’s someone coming tonight that I want you to meet.’

  ‘Who?’

  But the priest would not be drawn as to identity of the visitor and Juditta had to wait until Richard was ushered into the priest’s home that evening to have her curiosity satisfied.

  ‘Richard. I’d like you to meet Juditta. She is the sister of the late chief of the island. Juditta, this is Richard. He is a journalist from England.’

  They shook hands, each with unspoken questions about the other clearly etched on their faces.

  ‘Let’s go and eat,’ said the priest.

  He set out cold meats and bread and opened the bottle of wine which Richard had again brought with him.

  ‘I hope this will be sufficient.’

  ‘I don’t have much appetite, Father,’ replied Juditta.

  ‘I understand. The day has been a strain for you. But you, Richard, you must be hungry?’

  ‘A little.’

  Richard helped himself to the simple food and eased the tension with a large gulp of wine. The priest made sure his glass was never empty, though his companion drank very little. They ate in silence.

  Over coffee the priest spoke again.

  ‘We must think of the future now. There is a lot to discuss and a lot to do and we must be prudent. As you know, Richard, the chief has bequeathed the island to the church. Juditta accepts this and I shall help her establish a new life for herself. Her brother, Jalbis, however, is not happy with the will. It seems he has plans to try and find it and destroy it so that the rules of intestacy can be invoked. This would leave the island to Juditta and her brother and he would no doubt exploit this to his own advantage. He is an unscrupulous man and without compassion, and would like to be sole heir to the island. I believe he already has some involvement with the island, but he stands to gain a lot financially by taking charge and I fear for Juditta’s future in such an event. It is to prevent this that the codicil exists. Juditta will be able to tell you more, no doubt.’