Walk in Silence

by J. G. Sinclair

  Then she caught sight of her again, heading towards the toilets, looking back to where Keira was sitting, imploring her to follow.

  Keira was already on her feet, moving away from the table when she stopped and turned to see Pavli staring after her.

  ‘I’m sorry, I think I should go through to the gate now. I have to go to the bathroom first, so I’d better get going. We should probably say our goodbyes just now.’

  Pavli pushed out from behind the table. ‘Don’t forget your case.’ He pulled Keira’s flight case from under the seat and handed it to her.

  ‘Also, you left these behind in my police car. I thought you might want to take them.’ Pavli lifted the small, grubby toy from his bag along with the framed photograph of the boy.

  ‘Thank you.’

  She extended her hand and caught the look of bemusement on Pavli’s face.

  ‘That’s it?’ he asked.

  ‘That’s it,’ replied Keira.

  Nineteen

  The queue to get into the Ladies straggled out the door and onto the concourse. As Keira slipped in alongside Lule she noticed the bloodstained tape wrapped around her swollen knuckles.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘Where’s the boy?’

  ‘His name is Ermir. Call him by his name.’

  Lule shot Keira a look and repeated her question. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘I don’t know . . . He’s been taken.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘If I knew that I wouldn’t be standing here.’

  ‘Why are you standing here? Ermir has disappeared and you are catching a flight home – running away? What the fuck is this?’

  ‘I’m not running away. I have to go back. I have no choice.’

  ‘You have come looking for him and brought with you nothing but trouble. I fucking told you to leave us alone.’

  ‘Lule, not here.’

  ‘Who has taken him?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Is your cop friend going to help?’

  ‘I haven’t told him what happened.’

  ‘You’re right not to trust him, but I know now it wasn’t him that gave out my address and got my friend Nikki Shyri killed. It was that bitch Ardiana. When I follow her into the bathroom she is on the phone: setting us up. I gave her a smack on the side of the face as she came out of the cubicle, but she was high: doesn’t even feel it I think. Started fighting back like a crazy cur, but I’ve got crazy to spare. I left her on the floor and ran to warn you guys, what is going on, but I am too late. If I hadn’t screamed myself hoarse and had to escape the hotel I would have gone back and shot her in the fucking head. S’what I should have done with no hesitation. I told you to leave us alone. They’ve got the boy; now they will come after me.’

  ‘They didn’t mention anything about you. They’re trying to get at me.’

  ‘If they are for getting at you, why would they keep him and let you go?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is to get Ermir back safe. That is all there is.’

  ‘You need to go in here, to the toilet?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Me either. Where will we go?’

  ‘Walk with me to the gate.’

  The two women set out across the concourse towards the security booths.

  ‘Why these people are after you?’

  ‘They need me to do something for them, and while that’s the case I think Ermir will be safe.’

  ‘What thing?’

  ‘It’s complicated, but not something for you to worry about. The point is, you should be safe too. You’re not even on their radar, but I still think it would be better if you kept out of the way. Do you have your passport with you? I could buy you a ticket. You could get on a plane right now, come with me.’

  ‘It’s back at my apartment. I went last night after I left the hotel, but it’s still crawling with cops. If it is true what you say that they are after you, then I will stay here and look for the boy. I will find that bitch Ardiana and make her tell me who she’s been talking to. She will know who has Ermir. She will know where he is.’

  They’d reached passport control.

  ‘If I don’t go through now I’ll miss my flight. Keep out of the way, Lule. Don’t try to fix this on your own. I will be back and I will get this sorted out. How do I get in touch?’

  ‘Give me your number. I’ll call you.’

  ‘Take this.’ Keira pulled a business card from her bag and handed it to her together with an envelope full of cash. ‘And this too. This’ll keep you going for a few days.’

  ‘I’ll be okay.’

  Keira lifted Lule’s hand from her side and pushed the envelope into it. ‘I don’t want you to be okay, I want you to be safe. Take it.’

  For a brief instant it seemed as if they would hug, but the moment passed.

  ‘Eat, stay healthy, keep your head down and your Beretta in your bag.’

  Keira turned and made her way into the taped-off channel that led through to the security checkpoint.

  Lule shouted after her. ‘I believe you.’

  ‘Believe what?’ replied Keira.

  ‘When you say everything is going to be okay . . . I believe you.’

  *

  The bus was already boarding. Lule had waited until Keira disappeared through into the departure area – then headed straight out of the terminal building and across to the bus terminus.

  She climbed aboard, paid 120 lek and sidestepped her way along the narrow aisle to the back of the coach and a seat next to the window.

  Aside from a few backpackers near the front and some shift workers from the airport the city-bound bus was all but empty. Even though there was plenty of room, Lule stayed clenched in a tight ball, her far-off gaze registering little of what was happening on the other side of the tinted glass.

  A few minutes into the journey Lule flipped open her bag and peered inside. The back corner of the magazine floor-plate on her Beretta was pressing through the canvas and digging into her thigh. Lule lifted the bag clear of her legs, let it settle again in a more comfortable position, then dipped her hands in and pulled open the envelope that Keira had just handed over. She riffled the bundle of notes. Without having to take the money out and count, it was easy to see there was more than enough there to keep her out of trouble for a while.

  Lule had every intention of heeding Keira’s advice to eat, stay healthy and keep her head down, but there were a few things to take care of first.

  Twenty

  It wasn’t until she got home to her apartment and examined herself in the mirror that Ardiana realised just what a mess she was. The injuries were mostly superficial, but there was a lot of blood. Taxis had pulled over when she hailed them, then as they drew nearer had sped off. She’d been forced to walk halfway home before one stopped and the driver let her climb in the back.

  After cleaning herself up as best she could, Ardiana sat naked on the small balcony outside the kitchen and smoked joints until her brain stopped receiving messages from the bits of her that were sore. At one point she looked up and saw the old guy on the top floor across the street staring over with his hand on his dick. Ardiana waved across and let her legs fall open a little to give him a better view.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d caught the old guy. One day she’d found herself standing next to him in the grocery store and tapped him on the shoulder. ‘You keep playing with yourself on my time I’m going to have to send you a bill.’

  The old guy came straight back at her with, ‘Who you kidding, lady? I’m the one putting on a show for you.’ Ardiana had laughed so hard she had tears running down her cheeks when she left the store.

  When she was numb enough on weed not to care any more she’d gone to bed, but hadn’t slept well. It had been too hot through the night: humid enough to threaten thunder, and the street outside was noisy with music playing into the early hours.

  By morning the air had freshened. Ardiana left t
he dark humidity of the living room, her eyes half shut against the bright sunlight streaming into the hallway and fumbled her way to the bathroom.

  She’d left the balcony doors open overnight and could feel the cool air caressing her naked body as she padded barefoot across the wooden floor. Ardiana groaned as she clicked on the light in the bathroom and heard the extractor whir overhead, the noise of the fan sounding louder than usual. Her mobile lay on top of the cistern where she’d left it the night before.

  She squatted over the toilet. Everything was sore again. Her legs were a mess of bruises and there was one the shape of a continent on her right thigh. Her ribs ached so bad she guessed a few of them must have cracked when she’d hit the floor of Hotel Shkop’s toilets.

  Ardiana lifted the phone and pressed the on button with her thumb, then frowned at the display. It showed a screen full of missed calls from Fatjo: most of them from last night, but a couple already this morning. It wasn’t even eight a.m.

  As soon as Ardiana had made a coffee and smoked a spliff she’d call Fatjo and give him the bad news: this pussy was out of action and probably would be for the rest of the week.

  She wiped and washed then headed to the kitchen, lit a ring on the stove, filled a pot with water and added three heaped teaspoonfuls of Skënderbeu, her favourite brand of coffee. Just before the water came to the boil she lifted the pot off the stove and stirred the brew, repeating this process three times until the murky water began to form a head of tan froth.

  The doorbell rang.

  ‘Fuck off.’

  Ardiana took her time pouring the coffee into a mug, then made her way out into the hall and over to the videophone.

  The buzzer sounded again. ‘Shit.’ Fatjo’s big round face filled the screen.

  He’d buzzed again before she pressed the key symbol to let him into the building.

  Ardiana left the front door off the latch and took her coffee out on to the balcony.

  She was lying back on the lounger with her eyes closed when Fatjo found her.

  ‘You want some coffee, it’s in the pot.’

  Fatjo filled a mug then pulled up a stool and sat just inside the glass doors, sheltering from the sun. He was wearing the same suit as always and sweating worse than usual.

  He wiped his forehead on his sleeve. ‘S’too hot. You got anything cooler?’

  ‘Maybe a beer in the fridge.’

  ‘It’s a quarter after eight in the morning.’

  Ardiana gave Fatjo a look that had ‘I fucking know that. What you doing here so early?’ wrapped up inside.

  ‘Go put some clothes on. I’m trying not to look at your pussy sitting there staring back at me, but it’s all I can see.’

  ‘Close your eyes.’

  ‘Here, cover yourself with this.’ Fatjo stretched behind, lifted a dishcloth from the handle of the stove and tossed it over to her. ‘What happened last night? Where the fuck did you go? You wouldn’t even pick up. I tried calling.’

  ‘I just saw your messages this morning.’

  ‘What happened to your hair? It’s all caked to your head.’

  ‘It’s blood.’

  ‘Did one of your clients beat up on you? What the fuck happened?’

  ‘I wasn’t working last night.’

  ‘Weren’t working?’

  ‘You didn’t get the message from Vedon.’

  ‘Vedon! What message? Why would the krye want to call me?’

  ‘To tell you I had the night off. Or maybe I was to call you – I can’t remember. Someone was supposed to call someone.’

  ‘What’s he have to do with it? What the fuck does Verbër Vedon got to do with giving you the night off? You’re working for me.’

  ‘I told him I should call you, but he was like, “Don’t worry, I’ll let him know.”’

  ‘Let me know what?’

  ‘That I had the night off.’

  ‘So you’re working for him now?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘So what the fuck is going on?’

  ‘I did him a favour . . .’

  Fatjo was chasing her down now, interrupting her. She could see the beads of sweat break out on his forehead then race each other all the way down to his chin.

  ‘What kind of favour?’

  ‘Relax, Fatjo . . . Honestly, it was nothing.’

  ‘What was nothing? If it’s nothing, then fucking tell me.’

  ‘He wanted me to contact him if we found the boy.’

  ‘Why? Are you trying to cut me out of the deal here with the lawyer?’

  ‘Of course not.’

  ‘I hope you’re not fucking with me, Ardiana.’

  ‘Jesus! Relax, Fatjo. Vedon didn’t tell me why. He just told me to let him know if we found the boy. What the fuck would he want with the finder’s fee? Like he’s going to chisel you out of a few grand? Think about it, Fatjo! He’s the boss. What’s he need with that sort of loose change? My guess is he’s got something much bigger going down and the lawyer or the boy or both of them – how should I know – have something to do with it. But you’ll get your money, so calm yourself for fuck’s sake.’

  There was a loud bang from the end of the hallway that made Fatjo turn. Ardiana sat bolt upright and looked out through the kitchen. ‘Shit, that made me jump. Did you close the front door?’

  ‘I might have left it open.’

  ‘You want to go check?’

  ‘The wind’s just closed it. You want me to go check it did it properly?’

  ‘You didn’t close the door when you came in?’

  ‘I closed it over. Maybe it didn’t click. You want me to go see?’

  ‘I’ll go.’

  ‘You lie there and keep that pussy covered. I’ll check.’

  Fatjo poked his head into the hallway and checked the front door.

  ‘It’s closed.’

  ‘Go check.’

  ‘I don’t need to go check. I can see the fucking thing is closed.’

  ‘It should be locked.’

  Fatjo made the few short steps to the end of the hallway and tried the door. It was shut tight. He flicked the snib over and heard it snap into place.

  ‘Door’s closed and locked. You want me to take a photo on my phone to show you?’

  Ardiana didn’t reply.

  Fatjo stopped at the kitchen sink on his way back and filled a glass with water. He drank it down then refilled his coffee. ‘So what happened last night then that Vedon tells you to have the night off?’

  ‘I found the boy.’

  Fatjo stood for a moment trying to think his way round this one. Eventually, he repeated, ‘You found the boy?’

  ‘I stopped by the Hotel Shkop for a drink with the lawyer and the boy was lying there, fast asleep on a lounger down at the beach. I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes. They’re all sitting around having a drink and eating dolma, like this is what they do every Saturday night.’

  ‘Who’s all sitting round?

  ‘The lawyer, the boy and some bitch. I think she’s the one looking after the kid. His mother maybe: I don’t know. I’m all confused.’

  ‘I hope to fuck it isn’t his mother . . . she’s dead.’

  ‘That’s right. Not his mother, but she looks after him. Anyway, she was on to me straight away, but what she doesn’t figure on is, I know where her mom lives. That whore’s getting a call-back soon as I’m fit again. She’s the one gave me the bruise the size of Alaska on my thigh. Messed me up. Came into the toilets when I was on the phone to Vedon and fucked everything up.’

  ‘You phoned Vedon before you phoned me.’

  ‘You were next on the list, but she messed with the schedule. I stepped out of the cubicle and bam! I get a right hook nearly knocks me out. Bitch’s holding a gun too. I’d done a few lines so at first I’m a little dazed, but I’m not feeling too much in the way of pain, but she’s going at me like some crazy demon and then we’re scrambling around on the floor for, like for ten minutes until the bitch gets anothe
r one in that does knock me out. When I come around she’s gone, but I figure I shouldn’t hang about till she gets back and finishes the job. And that’s what happened. I came back here and tried to smoke the pain away, but I’m hurting all over.’

  Ardiana lifted the flap on her pack of cigarettes and pulled out a ready-made joint.

  A moment later it was lit and a jet of blue-grey smoke streamed through the tight circle of her pursed lips. After another deep draw she offered the roll-up to Fatjo. ‘Want some? A sprinkle of Thai temple ball, but mostly tobacco.’

  ‘It’s too early.’

  ‘For what? What d’you mean it’s too early? Life never stops being a bitch. It doesn’t have a timetable of when it’s easy and when it’s going to fuck with you. It just tries to fuck you up all day long, every day. So why do you have to have a timetable for easing the pain? Levitate a few feet off the ground, is all, not fly to the moon. Marijuana is armour for your mind. Listen to me, Fatjo, I’m an expert. “Too early”! You got to take a big deep lungful of this shit and fight life off for as long as you can, before it’s too late.’

  Fatjo liked Ardiana. They had history together. But when she got stoned – which was happening more and more often – she could be a pain in the ass. After her no-show the night before, he was in no mood for any lip.

  ‘What happened to the boy? Where’s he now . . . and the lawyer? Did they escape?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. Vedon was sending round some miks to pick them up, but I don’t know what happened.’

  ‘You haven’t called him already to find out?’

  Ardiana lay back with her eyes closed letting the ‘Marijuana armour’ work its magic. ‘Back off, Fatjo. You’re acting like you need your goddamn nappy changed. I’m telling you everything that’s going on. If you’re worried about the finder’s fee, call Vedon. You know what he’ll say? “What finder’s fee?” I’d bet you the whole amount again he isn’t even aware there is one.’

  There was another loud bang from the direction of the hallway that made Ardiana start and the hairs on her arms stand up. ‘Jesus fuck, Fatjo! You just threw coffee all over me. Go close the goddamn front door.’