The owner was standing at the side of the table holding up another beer. ‘Your nice friend sent you this. Said to tell you she was heading to Dushk: she’ll meet you there.’
‘She’ll meet me there?’
‘I’m pretty sure that’s what she said.’
‘She say anything else?’
‘Yeah, I didn’t catch the words too well. I don’t speak good English, but she mentioned something about Dhi Gondolë.’
‘What about it?’
‘Something like it was empty, if that makes sense. Yeah, that was it, “Dhi Gondolë is empty.”’
‘Thanks.’
‘You all done?’
‘How much do I owe you?’
‘Your friend already paid.’
‘D’you need the table?’
‘Not till 10 p.m. You’re good for at least another half-hour. After that if you want to keep going, the Cabrestrante’s open till late. You want a coffee or maybe I’ll bring you some rakia, yes?’
‘I’m good, thanks.’
‘I saw her get into the cop car. Is your friend a cop? Or maybe she’s under arrest?’
‘No, she’s a lawyer,’ replied Lule.
‘I missed the whole thing. Was in the kitchen: didn’t even hear the sirens, nothing. Something going on in the marina I think, but nobody knows what.’
Lule wasn’t really in the mood for small talk, but the guy was just being nice so she played along as best she could without encouraging him to pull up a chair.
‘Yeah, I watched it all from here, but nothing really happened.’
‘Cops should have stuck around and gone to the party.’
Lule knew the answer to her next question, but asked it anyway. ‘There’s a party here tonight?’
‘Not here, on the boat . . . It won’t start for a while yet. Stick around for long enough, you’ll see the guests sailing round the headland,’ said the guy. ‘Cops were too early.’
Lule was on her feet.
‘You sure I can get a drink down at the marina? They’ve locked the gates.’
‘Still full of all the people got the moorings: they don’t go back to their boats till they’re ready to fall in the sea.’
‘You think they’d let me on?’
‘To the big boat?’
‘Sure.’
‘You got an invite?’
‘Sort of,’ lied Lule. ‘I’m supposed to be meeting someone onboard.’
‘So long as you got an invite: but if I was you I’d have a few more drinks then head back into town ’n’ crash someone else’s party. If the people on that boat don’t know you, they’ll shoot you dead and throw your body in the sea before they’ll let you eat one of their canapés.’
*
Pavli popped the boot lid open and after rummaging around inside appeared at the passenger-side door holding a torch. Keira climbed out and stood beside him. In contrast to the cool freshness of the coast, the air inland was warm and sticky. They were parked on the verge opposite Kaltrina Dervishi’s house. Street lamps and houses scattered along the floor of the valley and surrounding hillside twinkled in the darkness, but up on the hill it was pitch black.
‘You’ll need something to cover your mouth and nose,’ said Keira, whispering under her breath.
‘Why are we talking so quietly?’
‘Instinct, I guess.’
‘D’you think there’s something lurking out there, listening to us?’
‘There are plants in the garden that witches use to make themselves invisible.’
‘Shit sake. I’m a city boy. Even if the sun were high in the sky this place would give me the creeps. What are all those shapes?’
‘Old garden machinery. Tractors and a horse-drawn plough all rotting away. The garden’s full of them.’
‘When I was thinking “first date”, this is not what I had in mind.’
Keira’s face was difficult to read, but her lack of response told Pavli all he needed to know.
They walked behind the beam from Pavli’s torch as it traced a route along the path and up to the front door of the cottage. The building looked bigger: more imposing than it had in the daylight.
‘You okay?’ asked Pavli.
‘Yeah, It’s just, I know what’s behind the door. I’m not in any great hurry to see it again.’
‘Would you rather stay in the car?’
‘No, let’s just go in, take some photographs, then get the hell away from here.’
Pavli pressed a handkerchief to his mouth, placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted. The door gave way much more easily than it had done a few days earlier. As it swung open the heavy wooden door clattered against the side wall, the noise reverberating loudly in the stillness.
Keira stood – with her hand clamped over her mouth and nose – watching over Pavli’s shoulder as the torch beam searched the interior: first the small vestibule behind the door then through into the kitchen area. Just as Pavli was about to step inside, Keira pulled her hand free of her face and grabbed him by the arm.
‘Wait.’
‘What?’
‘Something’s wrong.’
Pavli stared back at Keira, waiting for her to continue.
‘There are no insects. When I was here the other day it was swarming with flies.’
‘So, they must have all flown away when you opened the door.’
‘It’s not just that: the stench from the dead bodies was overwhelming. We wouldn’t have been able to stand here and have a conversation without gagging.’ Keira took the torch from Pavli and stepped inside. Within a few strides she was standing in the middle of the kitchen.
The table and chairs were still in place. Everything, except for the area between the table and the cooking range, looked exactly as it had before.
The bodies had been removed.
Keira flicked the torch beam around the rest of the room, checking for any signs of what had happened, but nothing else appeared to have been touched.
Pavli flipped a wall switch by the doorway and a shaded bulb dangling from the ceiling flickered into life. He took a few moments to look around.
Keira crouched and ran her fingers over the rough, terracotta surface of the floor tiles, then touched them to her nose. ‘Disinfectant . . . This is fucked up. Just a few days ago there were two dead bodies right there. Kaltrina Dervishi’s parents: what was left of them. Someone’s been in. They were right there. This floor was stained with a big pool of dried blood, now it smells of bleach.’
‘Is this where you came on Saturday when you were with the hooker girl, Ardiana Kastrati?’
‘Yes.’
‘You should have told me at the time. We could have come and looked then.’
‘Yeah, well, there was a lot going on. How did you know she was a hooker?’
‘You told me at the airport.’
‘D’you think maybe she came back here?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘So why d’you mention her?’
‘To see how you’d respond.’
‘How I’d respond to what?’
‘Me mentioning her name.’
‘How did I respond?’
Pavli didn’t answer.
There was short silence between them, then Pavli said, ‘There’s a bug in New Zealand called a weta, gets frozen in the winter then thaws out and comes back to life. Maybe that’s what happened here. A resurrection.’
‘We’re not in New Zealand.’
‘I could show you a real crime scene.’
‘Shit, Pavli, what are you talking about? This is a real crime scene.’
‘Your friend Ardiana.’
‘What about her?’
‘Someone took a dislike to her and her pimp. A guy called Fat-Joe Jesus: I was at the poor girl’s apartment checking out the three bullet holes she had in her chest and the one that missed Fat-Joe’s mouth and tore him a new opening in his throat. Guy across the street said he saw a woman pull the trigger. Said she was pretty.
Even took the time to wave across to him. And turns out, Fat-Joe was the guy took you back to your hotel room after you fainted down on the beach. My dad recognised his face.’
‘So. What are you suggesting? That I had anything to do with it?’
Pavli made a face, like he couldn’t be sure.
‘When did this happen?’ asked Keira.
‘Late Sunday morning.’
‘I was on a plane to Glasgow. You met me at the airport and gave me my travel documents. I mean, Jesus, Pavli!’
‘Where I saw you talking to the girl.’
‘What girl?’
‘The one you call Lule. I followed her back to her apartment and the next thing, the dope-dealer guy lives up above her, takes a dive from his balcony and breaks his neck.’
‘And while he was learning to fly, I was over at Ardiana’s apartment with a gun putting holes in her and Fat-Joe Jesus? Is that what you’re insinuating? I was on a plane to Glasgow.’
‘Yesterday you were on a plane to New York and look where you ended up. What happened, did the pilot get JFK mixed up with Tirana?’
Keira felt a jolt of adrenaline and stared back at Pavli for a moment. Then she said, ‘So where are we going with this? Why have you waited until we get all the way out here to come at me with this? Why didn’t you mention it over a beer at the Cabrestrante?’
‘I’m just saying that, with you, nothing is adding up. You’re looking for a boy that’s disappeared who has dead grandparents that got up and walked away . . .’
‘They didn’t get up and walk away,’ interrupted Keira. ‘They’d been shot. Executed. They couldn’t get up and walk away because they were dead. Someone’s been in here and moved them.’
Pavli was talking over her, ‘. . . and all this while around you people are getting murdered. I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I don’t see it’s going to end well.’
‘You’re starting to make me feel uncomfortable.’
‘I am not meaning to do that. I have jigsaw in my head, but someone has stolen some of the pieces. You know what I’m saying?’
‘Yes. Nothing adds up.’
‘Nothing adds up.’
Keira could see that Pavli was agitated and wanted to calm things down, ‘Look, Pavli, I don’t know what the hell is going on here either. I have no idea why someone would all of a sudden go to all the effort of clearing a crime scene that’s been left untouched for months. All I want to do is help a young kid out. That’s all I’m here to do. I want to find him and give him some money and hopefully make his life better in some way. That’s it. I didn’t ask for any of this shit. I didn’t kill Ardiana or Fat-Joe Jesus. I didn’t ask someone to break into my hotel and steal my passport or get involved with some fucking gangster called Vedon, or any of this. But if we’re going to make sense of any of it we have to trust each other. We have to work as a team . . . Do you agree?’
Pavli shook his head.
‘I can’t get used to this custom of yours. Are you shaking your head to agree or shaking your head to disagree?’
‘I’m shaking my head to agree. We should work as a team.’
‘We need to do some trust-building exercises.’
‘We do?’
‘I think I know one that will work.’
‘You know how to make me trust you?’
‘Yes.’
‘How?’
Without taking her eyes off of him, Keira moved to the end of the table nearest to Pavli and leant back against it. She started to unbutton the front of her blouse, taking her time, button by button all the way down to the end, then let it fall open. The edge of the cotton caught on her nipples, exposing just the cup of her bare breasts and the flat, naked stomach underneath.
Pavli didn’t move as Keira slowly undid the top button on her jeans and pulled them down just far enough to expose the top of her pubic hair.
‘We are doing this here?’ said Pavli.
‘Here,’ answered Keira. ‘Let’s make it a different sort of crime scene.’
‘Are you serious?’
Keira shook her head from side to side, Albanian style.
‘Your lips are not sore any more?’
‘They’re fine.’
Pavli stepped forward and gently pressed his lips to hers. He felt her tongue searching the warmth of his mouth and could taste the alcohol and tobacco on her breath. Pavli let his hand slide up inside her open shirt.
Keira squeezed her hands between their close-pressed bodies and started to unfasten Pavli’s belt, undoing the top two buttons of his fly at the same time. Her hands searched around his waist as she started to pull and tug his trousers loose. With their mouths still pressed together Pavli hooked his thumbs under his belt in order to help.
He didn’t feel Keira’s fingers brush the leather safety clip looped over the Beretta holstered on the side of his utility belt.
He didn’t feel the clip being flipped open.
He didn’t feel the Beretta PX4 being lifted free.
It wasn’t until the end of the barrel was pressed into his flesh that he realised something was wrong, but by then it was too late.
Keira whispered ‘La Bête humaine’ in his ear before pulling the trigger.
Pavli felt the needle-sharp burn as the first bullet tore through his thigh. He staggered back against the sink and fell awkwardly to the floor, both hands clasped over his leg trying to stem the flow of blood. He immediately tried to get back on his feet, but his leg wouldn’t support his weight and he crumpled back to the floor. The bullet had shattered his femur as it passed through his thigh and out the other side.
‘Shit! What are you doing?’ screamed Pavli.
‘Where’s Ermir?’
Pavli lunged for Keira, trying to grab hold of her legs, but she stepped easily out of reach and fired again, this time grazing his left arm just below the shoulder.
Pavli screamed again and fell backwards onto the floor.
Keira repeated the question. ‘Where is the boy, Pavli? Why’s he not on the boat?’
‘You have lost your fucking mind?’
‘No, I’ve lost my fucking patience. Before I ask you again I’m going to say one thing. If you tell me the truth I’ll call for an ambulance, get someone here to fix you up. If I think you’re bullshitting, I’m walking out that door and leaving you to bleed to death, d’you understand?’
‘You are a fucking crazy woman. I’m trying to help you. All along I’m helping you, then you do this thing. What the fuck is wrong with you? You have lost your fucking mind, Keira.’
‘My name is Niamh McGuire and if you knew anything about me you’d know just how much danger you’re in right now. Answer the questions honestly and I’ll help you, start fucking around and Niamh McGuire is going to kill you . . . Understood?’
‘You are di koka . . . with two heads. The two personalities. You are fucking schizo.’
‘I’m with Zola. Inside every human there is a beast. How did you know I was supposed to be in New York?’
‘You told me earlier at the Cabrestrante. This why you shoot me? Because I ask about this?’
‘I didn’t tell you at the bar.’
‘Okay, in the car on the way here, what does it matter?’
‘I didn’t tell you in the bar or in the car or anywhere. The only way you could have known that is if someone else told you, and I think that someone else was Verbër Vedon. I think the whole raid on his boat was a set-up: it was all for show. I think it was you who called ahead to say that you were coming.’
‘Keira, Niamh, whatever person you are right now . . . You are wrong. You are both fucking wrong. You are crazy bitch.’
There was already a large pool of blood on the floor. Pavli lifted his head and stared at Keira, trying to focus, his voice suddenly faint. ‘Please, you are wrong about me . . .’ His eyes rolled back in his head and his voice was so quiet now that Keira could hardly hear him as he continued. ‘Vedon doesn’t have the boy . . . But . . . I think
I know who does.’
His breathing was becoming increasingly laboured, his eyelids heavy and his words an incoherent mumble. Keira stepped closer and kicked the bottom of his shoe, ‘C’mon, you son of a bitch. Where’s the boy?’
Pavli opened his eyes briefly before his head tipped back and he passed out, his skull hitting the tiled floor with a crack. Keira stared down at him and cursed under her breath. She stooped to pick up the torch from the floor, then fumbled in his pockets looking for the car keys.
They weren’t there.
Stepping over Pavli’s prone body, Keira headed out of the house into the darkness. She made her way back along the garden path towards the police car, pulled open the driver’s door and checked in the ignition.
The keys were nowhere to be seen.
As she turned to head back, a brief chink of light from the house next door caught her attention. The sight of an old woman’s face staring out made her start; then, with the twitch of a curtain, the face was gone. As Keira moved back over the broken slabs towards the front door she had a flashback of Pavli clipping something to his belt – a keychain: chances were that the car key was on the floor trapped underneath him.
Keira crossed the threshold into the vestibule and stopped dead.
The kitchen was in darkness.
Keira reached in and flicked the wall switch, but nothing happened.
She trained the torchlight inside the kitchen.
The floor was empty.
Pavli was gone. In his place nothing but a mess of blood.
Streaks of red glistened in the darkness and marked the course he’d taken along the floor.
As Keira’s gaze followed the lines of fresh blood she felt a tingle of fear run through her.
The trail of blood led along the kitchen floor towards the vestibule and underneath her feet.
She was already making the turn when she heard his voice.
‘Now, you fucked up.’
Keira tried to duck the oncoming blow, but Pavli caught her hard across the side of her face with his fist and sent her sprawling into the kitchen, where she stumbled and crashed to the floor. Pavli’s Beretta fell from her grasp and bounced along the tiles then skidded under the table, out of reach. The torch, too, clattered to the ground, smashing the lens and extinguishing the bulb. Keira twisted – hands covered in Pavli’s blood – and tried to gain her feet, but Pavli fell on top of her, pinning her to the floor. She made a grab for his hair, but Pavli caught her hand in his left and delivered a right hook that connected with a loud smack to her jaw.
Walk in Silence Page 21
