‘I’ll stay standing. Don’t want you pulling a nasty burner outta that bag. Your aim’s so shit you might just hit something and I don’t want it to be me. Got to go pee, anyway.’ Ardiana turned her attentions to Keira. ‘Thought you were having an early night?’
‘You checking up on me too?’
‘You’re an adult; you can do what you like. You will have one drink with me? I just go to toilet, then we can have a quick cocktail, then I’ll go . . . Sound okay?’
‘Sure.’
Ardiana headed back towards the hotel, leaving Keira and Lule in silence.
When Keira was sure Ardiana was out of earshot she said to Lule, ‘Maybe you should go now. I’ll make up an excuse.’
‘You think she overheard Xhon saying I have a room next door?’
‘No. Why don’t you slip away before she gets back? Take Ermir and we can meet up in the morning. I’ll have a quick drink with Ardiana and ask if she’s been handing out your address to anyone. Then I’ll go get hold of some cash for you: leave it at reception desk next door. D’you have a bank account?’
‘What for?’
‘When I get back I’ll send some more money. I’ll make sure there’s enough for you to rent somewhere until we can figure out what’s the best thing to do.’
Lule rose to her feet and started towards the hotel.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Keira.
‘I need to piss, too.’
‘What if the boy wakes up?’
‘Ask him what the hell Hathi is? Be right back.’
Sixteen
Lule moved quickly between the tables on the patio area, through into the bright lights of the lobby: ahead of her was Ardiana, unaware that she was being followed.
Lule hung back, waiting until Ardiana had disappeared down the steps to the right of the reception desk, then made her way to the top of the landing.
Soon she was standing in a gloomy corridor outside the women’s restroom.
Before putting her shoulder to the swing door Lule felt inside her bag and pulled her handgun free. With the Beretta hanging loosely by her side, she quietly opened the door.
The area over by the sinks was empty and all the cubicle doors – except for one – were open. Lule edged closer to the door that was closed and leant in until her ear was almost touching. On the other side she could hear Ardiana’s whispered voice.
‘I’ll put my phone on vibrate. How close are you . . . ? Okay, well I can’t stay in here all night. I think they are ready to leave, but they are waiting to have one more drink with me . . . The boy is with them, yes. He is asleep. Text me when you are outside so that I can get out of the way.’
Lule quickly slipped into the cubicle next to Ardiana as a young woman walked in and made her way over to the sinks. She checked her teeth in the mirror, fixed her make-up and left.
Lule waited, breathing heavily, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
In the next cubicle she heard the sound of a bag being unzipped, and a small package being unwrapped. She knew what was coming next: the chopping and click of plastic on the cistern lid as the occupant cut herself a line.
When she’d finished, Ardiana slid the thin ink chamber back inside the barrel of the ballpoint pen she’d used as a straw, checked for signs of powder around her nose using her compact, put everything back in her handbag then pulled back the snib on the cubicle door.
A flash of movement to her right made her raise her arm instinctively in self-defence, but it was too late to parry the blow. The butt of Lule’s Beretta caught the bridge of Ardiana’s nose with a crack and sent her sprawling back into the cubicle. The heel of her left foot caught on her ankle and she stumbled, landing heavily on the floor, her neck snapping forward as the back of her head smacked off the rim of the toilet seat.
Ardiana looked up, eyes dazed, blood and white powder streaming from her nostrils. She touched her fingers to the back of her head and felt blood flowing freely from the gash that had opened at the base of her skull. Another blow landed, this time glancing off the side of her cheek: a punch to the head.
Lule was standing over her, framed in the doorway. Ardiana stared back with a puzzled expression on her face. As Lule drew her arm back and swung again, Ardiana pulled her legs to her stomach and kicked out. The soles of her shoes caught Lule on the shins and tipped her far enough off balance to make her miss.
The cocktail of cocaine and adrenaline was working to Ardiana’s advantage. There was a lot of blood, but no pain. This time she drew her knees up to her chest and launched her heels into Lule’s stomach, winding her assailant and pushing her towards the washbasins. As she reached out to stop herself from falling, Lule’s right hand caught the door frame, dislodging the Beretta from her grasp. It clattered along the floor, then slid under one of the cubicles.
The brief lull was enough for Ardiana to regain her feet. She stumbled out of the cubicle and caught Lule with a wide-arching right to the side of her face, grabbing hold of Lule’s hair as she dipped to try and lessen the impact of the blow. With a fistful of hair in each hand Ardiana dragged Lule’s head down to meet her knee and heard a dull sickening thud as the two connected. Lule fell to the floor, pulling Ardiana down with her, both women scrambling and punching at each other. She managed to pull free and start crawling towards the gun, but Ardiana grabbed hold of her trailing leg and hauled her back. The marble floor provided no purchase for Lule’s hands as she clawed at its slippery surface, trying desperately to break free again. The sound of Ardiana’s phone cut through their breathless grunts and groans. Lule’s gaze flicked towards the cubicle where Ardiana’s handbag lay open on the floor.
With a growing realisation of what the vibrating phone meant, Lule let out a scream and kicked herself free, leaping to her feet and lashing out at Ardiana with renewed energy. She kicked her face and stamped the heel of her shoe into Ardiana torso, over and over, until Ardiana lay still, surrounded by a pool of blood.
Lule stood for a moment, panting for breath, exhausted, sweat glistening on her forehead and tears running down her face. She snatched her gun from the floor and lifted the phone from Ardiana’s handbag. Before she made for the exit she bent over the prone figure. ‘If anything happens to the boy, I’m coming back to kill you.’
*
Keira was at the short end of her third sour when the bundle on the lounger next to her shifted and the boy sat bolt upright. His eyes immediately searched for Lule, then fixed Keira with an intense, distrustful stare.
Keira tried a smile, but got nothing in return.
In a soft, low voice she said, ‘Ermir, unë quhem Keira.’ Then, indicating what was left of the food, tried gesturing for him to eat something. The boy continued to stare. Keira pointed towards the hotel, then walked her index and middle fingers down the palm of her hand. ‘Lule will be back in a minute.’
The boy’s face was thin and drawn, carrying too much experience for someone so young in the folds of skin around his large eyes. Thin arms poked out of a pale, worn T-shirt and his skinny legs barely touched the sides of his oversized grey flannel trousers.
Ermir suddenly stood up and crossed to Keira. He then laid his head on her shoulder, wrapped his arms around her waist and nestled into the crook of her neck. The gesture was so unexpected that at first Keira didn’t know how to respond. There was a scent of almond oil from the boy’s hair and a faint muskiness from his soft brown skin. As his bony arms pulled her tighter Keira’s instincts kicked in and she hugged him back, hoping that, for this moment at least, he felt safe.
Seconds later it was over; the boy slackened his embrace and turned away.
It crossed Keira’s mind that Ermir was hugging her younger self, Niamh McGuire, the eight-year-old girl whose life was changed for ever the moment she picked up a gun and killed a man. Ermir was comforting a young girl longing for the father she never had. His act was simple and pure, but the impact on Keira cut deep.
Ermir moved to stand by the tray of food, the
n stopped. For a moment it looked as if he was staring out to sea, but when Keira followed his eyeline she spotted two figures – in silhouette – moving along the beach.
They were heading straight towards her and, even from a distance, it was obvious they posed a threat. She scanned the patio area for Lule and Ardiana, but there was no sign of them. Something was wrong.
Keira weighed her options. She could run, but she’d have to take the boy with her and he’d slow them down. Or she could stay and fight.
Keira picked a knife from the tray Xhon had left and tucked it into the sleeve of her blouse. The knife was too light to throw any distance, but it might be useful. The men were moving fast, no more than twenty metres away now, then suddenly they split up. One moved down the beach towards the shoreline, the other came a few paces closer then stopped; they were positioning themselves to block any escape.
Keira was already on the move. Without taking her eyes from them she grabbed hold of the boy’s hand. ‘Ermir,’ she whispered, pointing up to the hotel, ‘Lule is there.’ The boy’s large dark eyes stared back at her with no hint of fear. He looked across to where the men were standing then back at Keira. ‘We need to go now, okay?’ continued Keira.
Ermir offered no resistance as she moved off towards the patio. The lights of the hotel seemed much further away than they had just a few moments earlier. Keira checked over her shoulder. The men hadn’t moved. As she made her way into the dim light of the roped-off section of the beach she realised why.
The tables in this area, previously occupied, were now free except for one. A lone figure slouched on a chair – his legs spread open and a gun dangling at the end of a limp arm – blocking the path back to the hotel. Keira kept walking, pulling the boy along with her until she was close enough to make out the features of his face. He was roughly the same age as her, with a crew cut and a sneer straight out of a grade-one acting class.
‘Excuse me, I’d like to get past,’ said Keira. ‘My boy needs his bed.’
‘Your boy needs his bed?’
‘Yes.’
‘Where is he?’
‘Who?’
‘Your boy.’
‘Right here.’
‘That’s not your boy.’
‘Okay, this boy needs his bed. Would you mind getting out of the way?’
‘You are the lawyer?’
‘No, I think you have the wrong person.’
‘You are not the Keira Lynch?’
‘No, I’m the Niamh McGuire,’ replied Keira.
‘Niamh McGuire!’
‘That’s right. I don’t like to use my real name when things are about to get nasty.’
The guy did his B-movie sneer again.
‘Things are about to get nasty?’
Keira let the knife hidden in her sleeve slip down into the cup of her hand.
‘If you don’t get out of the way . . .’
‘You got any moves to back up all this tough-bitch-talk you’re giving me?’
‘My uncle was a hit man, taught me every move in the book.’
The guy laughed, then said, ‘Your uncle is a hit man?’
‘Was.’
‘So, what moves he teach you?’
Keira’s hand shot out and – with the snap of her wrist – flipped the stainless-steel knife she’d been holding through the air. It stuck point first, deep in the guy’s right eye socket, and sent him sprawling backwards over the chair, squealing in agony.
Keira scooped Ermir into her arms and ran past him onto the boardwalk.
Seconds later she was at the metal gates leading up to the pool. Ermir’s arms were wrapped tightly around her neck.
Keira glanced behind. The two guys on the beach were already closing in, weapons drawn.
As Keira turned for the stairs, she felt a sudden jolt. Her head snapped back and a searing pain burst through her skull. For a brief moment she thought she’d misjudged the opening and ran into the gatepost by mistake, but by the time she’d realised what had happened it was all over. She caught a flash of needle, small, glinting in the darkness and felt a sharp pain in her arm.
Her last thought, as the darkness closed in, was for Ermir: the look of fear on the young boy’s face as she fell to the ground.
*
No one turned.
Mostly they were too engrossed in conversation – or staring intently, wondering what the other was thinking – to notice Lule as she picked her way between the tables. Even when she reached the edge of the poolside area and climbed onto an empty table to get a better view over the tall perimeter hedge, no one turned.
From this vantage point it was possible to see the lights of Golem shining in the velvet darkness to the east. To her right was the haunting, umber glow from the port of Durrës. It was also possible to see the row of empty loungers further down the beach, close to the water’s edge where Keira and Ermir had been sitting just minutes earlier.
Lule started to scream.
Only then did the people turn.
They watched as the girl with the torn dress – blood glistening on her shoes and a handgun hanging limply by her side – screamed until her throat was raw.
Seventeen
Keira lifted her head and opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred, neck stiff, head throbbing, her face painful and tight. The swelling around her eye was up again: she wanted to touch a finger to it, but something was stopping her.
Keira sat for a moment trying to figure out where she was and remember what had happened.
Someone was breathing heavily, behind her or beside her, she couldn’t tell . . . or was it the sound of her own lungs labouring to draw in air? The light was dim, barely enough to see by. She was sitting on a padded chair that was facing into the corner of the room and made a rustling noise when she moved. It appeared to be covered in dark plastic sheeting. When Keira tried again to touch her fingers to her face she realised both hands were bound together behind her back.
As her senses slowly started to return she saw that the floor was also covered in the same plastic: the walls too. She felt herself swaying gently from side to side, then noticed it wasn’t just her that was moving but the room itself.
Someone spoke: a thick Albanian accent poached in alcohol that crackled, like whoever it belonged to needed to clear their throat.
‘You knock out easily.’
The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but Keira couldn’t place it.
She tried to turn her head, get a look at the guy, but the sharp pain in her head made her stop.
‘I’m better when my opponent faces me off rather than goes for the sneaky-shit option. The first punch winded me, and there was no way I could raise my hands to stop the asshole with the syringe because I was holding a child.’ Keira could hear the slur in her voice.
‘How is your head?’
‘Sore.’
‘You would like some painkiller?’
‘If you’re offering. And something for motion sickness; the room won’t stop moving.’
‘We’re on a boat.’
‘Swell.’
‘If you want to get off alive you only have one thing to remember. If I am asking you to close your eyes, you will close them and keep them closed until I say you can open them again. I will cut you free from the binds and give you some medication, but if you attempt to turn around and look at me, I will shoot you in the head. Do you agree to the rules?’
‘Would a blindfold not be easier?’
‘This makes it a little more of a game. It gives you the power to choose your fate. You can decide whether you live or die, and is better, I think.’
‘What have you done with the boy?’
‘For the moment, the boy is safe.’
‘For the moment?’ repeated Keira.
‘Yes.’
‘Can I see him?’
‘No.’
‘He’s hungry. He hasn’t eaten anything since this morning.’
‘You have brought food for him?’
‘For the moment he is safe.’
‘He’ll be scared.’
‘Are you not scared?’
‘This isn’t my first time.’
‘You are an expert?’
‘No. But I know what the boy will be going through. I know what he will be feeling. I’ve been there.’
‘And you survived or you wouldn’t be sitting here. So there is nothing to worry about.’
‘I survived, but my captors didn’t.’
‘Now you are worried about me?’
‘No.’
‘Don’t worry about me. This is not my first time either.’
There was movement behind her: water being poured into a tumbler, the sound of a blister pack being opened followed by the rustle of plastic underfoot as the figure approached from behind.
‘What’s with the black plastic?’ asked Keira.
‘It’s not for you.’
‘What’s not for me?’
‘Sometimes the conversation does not go as well as you would hope. It gets messy. I paid half a million for this boat and I like to look after it. Cleaning bloodstains is a pain in the ass. The plastic catches the spills and can be rolled up and thrown away without the need to redecorate. But I think you are not going to give us any trouble . . . close your eyes.’
Keira did as she was told. She could feel the cold steel of a blade slip between her bindings then the warm rush as the blood flowed again into her arms and wrists: a tingling sensation in her hands. It was an unpleasant feeling but she flexed her fingers, forcing the muscles to recover some movement. She could sense the figure behind her: up close.
‘You are flying home tomorrow?’
‘Supposed to be.’
‘When does the trial start?’
‘What trial?’
‘Keira, you’re a lawyer; a job you don’t get if you’re dumb. So I’m going to assume you are smart and in return I would like you to do the same for me. I only have a few questions to ask. Answer them honestly and I will make sure you are at the airport tomorrow in time to catch your flight home. Does this sound reasonable?’
Walk in Silence Page 11
