Walk in Silence

by J. G. Sinclair

  The Bar Fiktiv was already starting to fill up. Most of the lunchtime clientele came from the surrounding offices, but there were a few tourist types sitting at the tables out front, sweating it out in the Albanian sunshine.

  The barman appeared. ‘If I looked that good I’d be staring at myself as well.’

  ‘I’ve just had my hair cut; trying to decide if I like it or not.’

  ‘If you ask me it looks great.’

  ‘I didn’t ask you.’

  ‘I could come by yours later and comb it into different styles for you, if you like?’

  ‘A kafe turke is what I’d like.’

  ‘You staying for lunch?’

  ‘Just a coffee for now.’

  ‘You meeting someone? Boyfriend? You want me to fix you a table?’

  ‘I’m happy at the bar. Has anyone been in, left anything for me?’

  ‘What kind of thing?’

  ‘I don’t know . . . a package kind of thing.’

  The guy made a show of looking around and under the bar and said, ‘No, can’t see anything, but I’ve got a package you could open if you like.’

  ‘Kafe turke, thanks.’

  ‘Be right back.’

  It was warm. Lule moved a few seats down to sit under the overhead ceiling fan, then checked the time on her phone. It was almost 1.30 p.m. The bus from Tirana had got stuck in traffic and arrived into Durrës station half an hour later than scheduled. A quick scan of her fellow patrons revealed nothing; no one was looking over at her or trying to attract her attention. The message Keira had left had been too vague: Lule had no idea what she was supposed to do. Was she meant to wait for someone to drop the package off? Was the package hidden somewhere and she would get a message to tell her where? All she could do was wait and hope that something would turn up.

  The barman was back with the coffee. Just as he placed it down on the counter Lule caught a movement behind her. She glanced in the mirror and saw a figure settling into a table in the far corner. Lule turned and stared, waiting for the moment of recognition. It took a few seconds before Keira Lynch finally recognised her, but when she did a smile spread across her face and she immediately rose to her feet, beckoning Lule with a nod of her head to come and join her.

  *

  ‘What happened to New York?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s still there.’

  ‘I thought you were there too.’

  ‘I am. At least my passport’s there, and so is my secretary Kate – looking a lot better in a red dress than I ever did. She should be taking off and heading back to Scotland any minute.’

  ‘As Keira Lynch?’

  ‘As Kate McMaster: and while everyone else is trying to figure out where Keira Lynch disappeared to, hopefully we can go find Ermir.’

  ‘What about the trial, and E Zeze?’

  ‘One thing at a time. I can’t get over your new look. It’s like talking to a different person. First thing we have to do is get a head-and-shoulders shot and send it to the guy that’s forging your new passport. You’ll need a new name, too.’

  ‘I need to be someone else. A lot has happened since you have been away. It feels like weeks.’

  The waiter appeared carrying the coffee Lule had left on the bar. He placed two menus on the table and said in Albanian, ‘Have a look at these if you want to eat anything,’ then to Keira. ‘Would you like a drink?’

  Lule translated for her.

  ‘Just a coffee please,’ replied Keira.

  When he was out of earshot Lule said, ‘I didn’t think you were ever coming back.’

  ‘I had to return to Glasgow to show my face, buy us a little time. I was always coming back. When I was eight years old I was in a similar situation to the one that Ermir is in right now. I know how scared he’ll be. I know the effect it had on my life and I’m not prepared to see the same thing happen to anyone else. Kaltrina told me a story about a friend of hers. They were both caught up with this asshole called Fisnik Abazi: the guy ran the prostitutes in Glasgow. Most of the girls were trafficked there, Kaltrina and her friend amongst them. Abazi took their passports and put them to work, got them screwed up on heroin, the usual story. Kaltrina’s friend got caught with a few dime bags and some cash and was dragged from her room in the middle of the night then beaten like a dog. Kaltrina heard her friend scream until she was dead then stayed up most of the night, too afraid to leave her room. In the morning she saw a trail of blood along the corridor where they’d dragged her friend from the bedroom. She was devastated – wondered how she would manage to go on without her. In a strange way – without realising it, though – her friend had done Kaltrina a favour. Because of what happened that night, Kaltrina decided it was time to get out of there.’

  Lule’s next words were only just audible, ‘Kaltrina ended up dead. How can this be a favour?’

  ‘The first time I heard the expression was from Kaltrina. Fisnik Abazi used it to scare the shit out of the new girls when they first arrived in Glasgow. They were already scared, but he’d show them photographs of a corpse in an open grave and tell them, “You can leave any time you like: the grave’s already dug.” The only other time in my life I’ve heard that expression was the other evening sitting outside your apartment block, in the back of a police car. You repeated it almost word for word. Then there’s your voice. You speak English with a Scottish accent . . . When I asked you to come with me at the airport on Sunday you said you didn’t want to go somewhere that would fuck with your head. You wanted to go somewhere that would give you good memories. Kaltrina told me her friend’s name was Tulla. I figured out on the plane home that must be you. Tallulah is sometimes shortened to Tulla, right?’

  ‘First time I ever met Kaltrina she got my name wrong. It kinda stuck. She was the only person who ever called me Tulla. No one else.’

  Keira reached across the table and took Lule’s hands in hers.

  ‘I’m here to help you too.’

  Lule sat with her head bowed, staring at the table, struggling to hold it together. Her voice cracked as she spoke, ‘I wasn’t into drugs, but they are pushing the gun into our heads and forcing us to take that shit till we were so wasted we didn’t know what was the year. Once they think you’re hooked they leave you alone. I’d save mine up, hide it: sell it to the girls that got fucked up on it. It was hard to do this, they are always watching. I knew one day I was going to escape so I’m always trying to put a little money aside. Kaltrina she was the same. She wasn’t into that shit either. One of the girls screwed me over, though. Said I’d cut the bag with talc, then told Abazi’s guys what I was doing. They beat me so hard I can’t hear anything on my right side. I knew they were going to kill me anyway so I played dead. Let them drag me down to car and then, just as they are lifting me into the trunk, I kick and I scratch and I gouge my way the fuck out of there. I fight so hard to stay alive I nearly killed myself, but I got away. I escaped. That’s why – when you showed up – I thought they’d found me again. I thought you were one of them. I’ve been living with all this shit hanging over me for so long I don’t know what’s real and what isn’t any more. I thought you were Clan. I am sorry to Kaltrina and I am sorry to you.’

  ‘You have nothing to apologise for, Lule. Don’t feel guilty for surviving. If Kaltrina’s looking down on you just now she’ll be delighted that she was wrong. She’ll be more than happy that you survived that night. And she’ll be grateful for everything you’ve tried to do for her son.’

  ‘She ended up dead. Will she be grateful for that?’

  ‘She ended up free. If Kaltrina was here, she would thank you.’

  Lule’s head dipped and it was a long time before she was able to say anything else.

  Twenty-eight

  A two-metre-high perimeter fence ran the full length of the Rruga Doganes and separated the busy service road from the freight dock beyond. From their vantage point on the steps of the Church of Apostle Paul and Saint Asti that sat atop a small hill overlooking th
e Port of Durrës, the two women could see the entire stretch of the yard beyond, stacked with containers piled three or four on top of each other in long rows that shielded most of the ships in the harbour from view.

  ‘The Persephone is on the other side of the blue containers in the middle,’ said Lule.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I walk down here last night. The passenger terminal is at far end of the dock. I buy a ticket for the ferry and get onto the quayside, but I can only glimpse the boat from there. It is too far away to see what is going on. The boat is known also as Dhi Gondolë. Ardiana told me this. It is not a good thing.’

  ‘What’s Dhi Gondolë?’

  ‘They are making fun with the words, but it is nothing to laugh at. Dhi Gondolë is translated directly as the Goat Boat, but they are not meaning the goat, they are meaning like the English word kid. Is a baby goat, yes?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The Goat Boat is how Vedon traffics the children out of Albania.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘I don’t know for sure, but Greece is further down the coast: I think maybe there. Ardiana mentioned this as well.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s the Persephone?’

  ‘Yes, sure. I couldn’t see the name, but it’s a luxury yacht. The only private boat that is allowed into this bit of the port.’

  ‘Let’s go check it out.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘Call the cops.’

  ‘You still don’t get it, do you? Vedon has a party on the boat every Thursday night. The Chief of the Policia is probably one of the guests.’

  ‘So what are you saying?’

  ‘I think we should try and get onboard.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘I don’t know. See what happens.’

  Keira shot Lule a look, ‘You must have been up all night thinking up that one.’

  ‘It’s a better idea than calling the cops.’

  ‘Let’s go check it’s the right boat first; then we’ll come up with a proper plan.’

  They waited for a break in the traffic, then sprinted across the road. With little effort both women climbed the wire-mesh fencing and dropped down into the container yard. Three stacked rows of the large metal boxes ran in parallel lines for the full length of the yard. Sticking close to the nearest they travelled a hundred metres or so then tucked into a gap between containers when they heard the voices of men approaching along the corridor on the opposite side. When the voices had faded and they were certain that the men had passed, Lule and Keira squeezed through to the other side, then ran along the next alleyway of containers looking for another gap that would lead them to the dockside.

  A security camera – high on an overhead gantry – turned towards them. Keira grabbed Lule’s sleeve and pulled her to a halt. ‘You ever been on the street and someone’s running towards you? You’re immediately wondering what’s going on. If they were walking you wouldn’t even notice them. We’ve got to stop running.’ Keira gestured towards the gantry. ‘We may be too late.’

  The unbroken line of containers stretched in front of them as far as they could see. ‘We’ll be up at the far end before we can get through to the other side. I can’t see any gaps. You think we should head back the other way?’

  Keira turned to check how far they’d come. That’s when she saw the Port Authority patrol car turn in at the southernmost end of the corridor. The span between the containers was not much wider than the car. As it started to pick up speed, Keira spotted a container with nothing on top of it and gestured to Lule. ‘Up there.’

  They broke into a sprint, but the patrol car had already covered half the distance between them. Keira leapt onto the side of the container and grabbed for the rolled metal edge on top, but her fingers slipped off and she fell back to the ground. With her first attempt, Lule managed to grasp onto the rolled edge, but had no strength in her arms to pull herself up. Keira grabbed Lule’s foot and guided it onto her shoulder, allowing Lule to clamber onto the corrugated roof of the container where she dropped flat onto her stomach and reached her arms out to Keira.

  As the patrol car screeched to a halt fifteen metres away, Keira made one last effort. This time she managed to get purchase and with Lule’s help hauled herself up onto the roof. The driver crashed the gears and started reversing.

  Keira joined Lule on the other side of the container and sat with her feet dangling over the edge. Before them was the port of Durrës. The quayside teemed with dockers loading and unloading cargo. A fleet of fishing vessels was moored on the far quayside and at the north end of the dock, two huge passenger ferries sat side by side in the calm waters, waiting to depart. All around the air was filled with the sounds of activity: men shouting, engines revving and horns blowing.

  Keira sat for a moment taking in the scene before asking, ‘Where is Vedon’s boat?’

  ‘Don’t know,’ replied Lule. ‘It must have sailed this morning. It’s not here.’

  ‘Where did you see it last night?’

  Lule gestured towards a gap between two cargo vessels. The space appeared small, sandwiched between the huge ships, but it was big enough to fit a sixty-metre yacht.

  ‘It should be right in front of us.’

  The Port Authority car drew alongside the container and the two officers jumped out. They were armed, but kept their weapons holstered. Both men were in their mid-forties and carrying too much weight around the gut; too dumb to do anything other than low-paid shift work for the private company brought in to run the security contract. They spent most of their time driving up and down the length of the dock, talking small about big events and waiting for something to happen.

  The driver was the first to speak, addressing the women in Albanian.

  ‘You enjoying the view?’

  ‘The ships look a lot bigger when you see them up close,’ replied Lule. ‘It’s amazing how something like that stays afloat. How long is it?’

  ‘Ship’s four hundred metres; so’s the other one. You ever heard of Michael Johnson?’

  ‘Can’t say I have.’

  ‘American runner. He could run the full length of that ship there in a spit over forty-three seconds. That’s the world record.’

  ‘It’d take me all day just to walk that far,’ said Lule.

  ‘You seemed to be going pretty fast when you spotted us over the other side of the container.’

  ‘Thought you might be cops.’

  ‘Well, I guess in a sense we are. You know this is a restricted area? You’re not allowed in here without a pass. You got a pass, lady?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘What about your friend there?’

  ‘She doesn’t know what you’re saying, she’s from Scotland.’

  ‘She got a pass?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How’d you get in here?’

  ‘Climbed the fence.’

  ‘If you want to look at the boats you can go up the passenger terminal. They’ve got a viewing gallery on the first floor.’

  ‘We were looking for one boat in particular.’

  ‘Yeah? Which one?’

  ‘The Persephone.’

  Keira caught the officers exchanging a glance.

  ‘Why you looking for her?’

  ‘Friends with the owner. Got invited to a party there Thursday night and he told us to come down and check it out.’

  ‘He tell you to climb the fence to get in?’

  ‘We were running late. Didn’t want to miss anything.’

  ‘Boat’s gone, I’m afraid. Fuelled up about an hour ago and set sail.’

  ‘Any idea where to?’ asked Lule.

  ‘Why don’t you call the owner and ask him? Him being such a good friend.’

  ‘He sees my number flash up on his screen, he’s not going to pick up.’

  ‘Does he owe you money or something?’

  ‘Kinda. My friend and I are supposed to be working the boat Thursday night. He said we’d make some good cas
h. Got bills to pay like everyone else . . . we need the job.’

  ‘Yeah, what work d’you do?’

  ‘Cleaners.’

  ‘S’that right?’

  ‘Yeah, cocks, mostly: bit of spit and polish until they’re gleaming.’

  Keira had no idea what Lule was saying, but the two Port Authority guys had big dumb grins all over their faces.

  ‘Cleaners!’ continued Lule. ‘Of course we’re not cleaners, we’re fucking hookers and we’re supposed to be on that boat. You gonna tell us where they’re headed? Do you know?’

  ‘Yeah we know.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Come down off the container and we’ll tell you.’

  ‘Tell us first, then we’ll come down.’

  ‘You’ve got to come off the container. We’ll escort you off the quayside, then we’ll tell you.’

  ‘Tell us, and I promise we’ll get off.’

  ‘Party’s maybe happening in Vlorë.’

  ‘Thursday night?’

  ‘Tonight. They brought it forward.’

  ‘You ever been to the party?’

  The guys were smiling again. ‘We don’t move in those circles.’

  ‘But I bet you do some favours for the owner. He a friend of yours too?’

  ‘Sometimes. Earn a little bit on the side doing security.’

  ‘So they’re sailing down to Vlorë, then they sail back here?’

  ‘No. It’s a place called Orikum: got a marina there. Just the other side of Vlorë.’

  ‘Orikum Marina?’

  ‘Only marina in the whole of Albania.’

  ‘Then they head down to Greece, that’s right, ’cause Mister Vedon asked if we wanted to meet him down there, but it’s too far.’ Lule dropped Vedon’s name in to make the whole thing sound more authentic. It worked.

  ‘Usually the boat heads down to Igoumenitsa for a few nights, yeah. Drop off whatever friends they got staying on board, pick up some new friends, then sail back. You gonna come down from there now?’