Lule had no idea where this was going. The only line she was working on right now was to get Ermir out of the room and away from these two goons. After that, she’d figure out how to get the boy off the boat.
A thought struck her: as soon as Ermir saw her he’d react, say her name, run to her – blow it. She turned and busied herself with clearing the small nuggets of cereal from the floor, hoping that neither Ibish nor Kushtim would notice she was stalling.
Ibish disappeared through the double doors, spoke a few words Lule didn’t catch, then reappeared almost immediately. Lule edged nearer the sofa. If Ermir did react to seeing her, she’d grab the Beretta and shoot the fuckers dead. Lule had her back to them – afraid to turn and look – as Ibish and the boy emerged from the room.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Ermir’s skinny legs, his painfully wasted calf muscles: his feet, too big for his shoes.
Halfway across the room the big guy, Ibish, stopped.
‘What suite is he going in to?’
Lule waited for Kushtim to answer, but Kushtim stayed mute.
‘Lady, I’m asking what room,’ repeated Ibish.
Lule was still play acting, cleaning up as her hand glided across the carpet and came to rest on the stock of the Beretta.
Kushtim finally spoke up. ‘First on the right.’
She heard Ibish and the boy move off, then Ibish stopped and turned again.
‘Lady, what’s your name? I should introduce you to your kid.’
Lule had no option now but to turn. She slipped her finger through the trigger guard, ready.
She turned and said, ‘It’s Lule. My name is Lule.’
Ibish gestured to her and said, ‘Come and meet the kid.’
Lule slid the gun back under the sofa and got to her feet. For a brief second she felt as though she was going to pass out. She stood a moment and waited for the room to stop spinning.
‘You okay?’ asked Kushtim.
‘Fine. Stood up too quickly.’
Lule stepped forward with her arm extended ready to shake the boy’s hand, knowing it was dumb, but she couldn’t think what else to do.
There was no reaction at all from the boy.
It wasn’t Ermir.
Thirty-two
The police-band radio broadcast an endless stream of unintelligible chatter against a background of hiss and crackle. Keira reached for the volume control and turned it to zero. Next she flipped the sun visor. The car keys slipped from underneath and tumbled into the dimly lit footwell. She groped around blindly before finding them tucked in under the clutch pedal. Her head was pounding and the flesh around her right eye so swollen she could no longer see out of it.
Lule’s mother Rozafa had found a box of painkillers; a mixture of codeine and paracetamol, and given some to Keira half an hour ago along with a cup of strong muddy coffee: the pills and caffeine were just starting to kick in.
Rozafa, through a mixture of mime and gestures, had tried to convince her that driving was a bad idea, but there was no other option.
Keira turned the key in the ignition and watched the needle on the fuel gauge rise to just under a quarter-tank. The range was showing ninety kilometres. The onscreen instructions for the satellite navigation were in Albanian, but eventually after trying various combinations of button-press, she’d figured it out. Keira typed Orikum onto the screen and waited for the satellites cruising overhead to do their thing.
Ninety-five kilometres.
She would have to stop for fuel. After checking her pockets, Keira remembered she’d used the last of her cash to pay for the pizzas and her purse – along with all her cards – was inside a travel case locked in the back of the hire car parked outside the Pizzeria Famousa.
She set off, hoping the gauge was wrong.
From her window Rozafa followed the glow of the headlights as the police car made its way to the top of the hill, turned and slowly trundled back down. In the darkness it was difficult to see, but Rozafa was sure Keira waved as she passed and the old lady lifted her hand to do the same.
Fifteen minutes later, having negotiated the narrow streets that laced the village of Dushk, Keira joined the SH4 highway heading south. She kept the flashing blues on for the entire journey and within an hour started to see signs for Vlorë and Orikum.
When she eventually hit the coast road south of Vlorë, Keira found a lay-by and pulled over. The pills had taken the edge off her aches and pains, but they had also made her drowsy. She wanted to lie back and go to sleep. Her ribs hurt when she breathed. Despite driving with the window down for most of the journey, beads of sweat clung to her brow.
As the car drew to a halt she threw the door wide, leant out and vomited onto the dry, sandy soil, clutching her ribs against the pain. When she’d finished retching Keira unclipped the seatbelt and stumbled out to sit on a large boulder sticking out of the verge. She sat with her head in her hands breathing heavily, spitting the acrid taste of bile out between her swollen lips.
When she’d recovered enough to stand, Keira walked around to the other side of the car, leant in and lifted Pavli’s phone from the passenger seat. She thumbed in Lule’s number, then – as she waited for her to pick up – looked across to the lights on the tail end of the long stretch of Vlorë bay towards Orikum Marina, still a fifteen-minute drive away.
When there was no answer, Keira closed the screen, threw the phone back in the car and headed for the driver’s side via the rear end of the vehicle. An impulse made her stop and open the boot.
Two Heckler & Koch MP7s were strapped to the underside of the lid, both with extended 30-round magazines protruding from their pistol grips. On the floor of the boot sat three boxes of DM11 armour-piercing shells, a Kevlar body vest and an unopened package wrapped in clear cellophane. Keira figured the contents of this package were originally intended for her. Printed white, bold on the front in several different languages were the words BODY BAG.
Keira lifted a box of DM11s from the boot and emptied as much extra ammunition as she could carry into her pockets.
The Kevlar vest was heavier than it looked. Keira lifted it over her head and adjusted the various straps until it was a snug fit. Next she ripped the Velcro straps holding the machine pistols in place against the boot lid and freed both of them. Keira dropped the magazines out to check they were full then slotted them back into place. If there was any shooting to be done Keira was ready.
She took a moment to fill her lungs with the fresh sea air then climbed back into the driver’s seat. The orange fuel light had been on for more than half the journey and the gauge was as far down as it could go, but the engine caught first time and seconds later she was speeding along the coast road with what looked like a grin on her battered face.
‘Gonna have a hot time on the town tonight,’ said Keira in a phony American accent.
*
Lule took the young boy’s hand in hers. It felt light – as though the bones were made of dry twigs and the skin of paper. The boy stood rigid, his big blue eyes struggling to hide the fear as he stared up at her.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Loran.’
Lule gestured for him to move into the corridor, then held the bedroom door open for him. ‘Okay Loran, you head into this room here with me, while . . . Damn it!’ Lule clasped her hand up to her chest. ‘Shit, my necklace has come off. Shit! You go into the bedroom and close the door, okay, while Ibish and Kushtim here help me find my necklace. I’ll be with you in two minutes, but you mustn’t come out, d’you understand? You’ll be in trouble if you come out.’
Loran shook his head as Lule closed the door behind him.
‘Where the fuck are you goin’?’ asked Ibish as Lule brushed past him and walked back into the lounge.
‘My necklace has come off, help me look,’ replied Lule, heading straight for the corner of the sofa.
‘I’ll help the bitch look,’ said Ibish, addressing Kushtim, who was still standing by t
he double doors like he had nothing better to do, ‘You go get Mister Vedon, tell him the boy is ready.’
Lule crouched to the floor and immediately stood upright again, holding the Beretta. ‘Found it.’
Her first shot punched through Kushtim’s chest and stopped him dead in his tracks. Shots two and three followed in quick succession and knocked him onto his back, his body falling dead – half in, half out – between the double doors.
Ibish was already drawing his gun, but Lule’s fourth shot hit his shoulder, spun him against the wall and dropped him to the floor where he lay on his side, still scrabbling to unholster his weapon, aware that Lule had taken a few steps closer and was pointing the Beretta directly at him.
‘Bitch,’ he screamed, ‘I’m going to fucking kill you, you cock-sucking fuckin’ whore.’
Lule squeezed the trigger again.
The impact of the fifth bullet slammed his large, muscle-bound body back, hard onto the floor. She moved to stand over him as he lay moaning and cursing her. Lule knew the next bullet was the kill shot, but she had something to say first.
‘A year ago, because of people like Vedon and the arseholes like you he employs, “cock-sucking fuckin’ whore” would have been my job description . . . That I can take, but only my best friends Kaltrina Valbona and Nikki Shyri are allowed to call me a bitch . . . and they’re both dead.’
Lule closed her eyes and squeezed the trigger. The Beretta bucked in her hands, spat out bullet number six and silenced Ibish’s groans.
‘Now you can call me a bitch.’
Lule’s ears were ringing as she made her way back to the young boy. She needed to move quickly. Even with the loud music filtering down from the deck above, there was no way the shots would have gone unnoticed.
Loran was sitting on the edge of the bed when Lule entered. He noticed the gun straight away.
‘I’m here to help you, Loran. Nothing is going to happen, okay. You’re safe now, but you have to come with me. We’re only going next door, but we have to move quickly. You have to trust me and come with me.’
Lule held out her hand, but the boy hesitated; too frightened even to stand up.
‘I promise you, Loran, I’m going to help, but we must go now. Please, come with me. I know you’re scared. Don’t be. I’m going to make everything better. Come.’
Reluctantly, the boy placed his hand in Lule’s and let her lead him next door to the bedroom the girls had used to get changed in. Lule made sure she shielded the view into the lounge from Loran as they shuffled along the corridor in the opposite direction. The last thing she wanted him to see was Ibish’s corpse lying there with his head blown off.
‘Are you alone?’ asked Lule as they pushed through into the bedroom.
The boy shook his head.
‘Are there others?’
Loran held up his index finger.
‘Just one?’ continued Lule.
He shook his head again.
‘Is the other boy called Ermir?’
Loran shrugged his shoulders.
‘D’you know where they’re keeping the other boy?’
Loran thought for a moment. ‘I think in the room at the end of the hall.’
He pointed in the direction of the room Lule had tried first, the one that was locked. ‘I have heard him crying in the night,’ whispered Loran.
‘I want you to wait, Loran. I’m going to find the other boy and bring him back here. Then we’re getting off the boat. Find somewhere to hide in this room and stay there until I get back. They might come looking for you, so stay hidden, okay?’
The boy’s hands were trembling.
Lule put an arm round his shoulders and tried to reassure him.
‘I won’t let anyone harm you, okay?’
‘Okay,’ replied Loran, tears streaming down both cheeks.
‘Can you swim?’
‘Yes.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘Best in class.’
‘Cool. Wait here. Everything is going to be fine.’
Lule poked her head out into the corridor. It was still empty, but she could hear doors slamming on the deck above and raised voices – men shouting to be heard above the music. A few steps and she was standing outside the room at the end of the corridor. She pressed her ear against the door and listened, but it was impossible to hear anything above the music. Lule tried the handle again and was surprised to find the door was now unlocked. Just as she started to push through the music stopped and everything fell silent. She turned her head to listen along the corridor, but there was no sound except for the dull thump of her heart beating in her ears.
She pushed the door just wide enough to poke her head through. The room spanned the width of the yacht: twenty metres from port to starboard. There were two sets of doors, one on either side of a huge king-size bed centred against the wall to the right of where she was standing. A large sofa sat beneath two portholes on the far wall and a polished metal staircase situated to the left spiralled down from the upper decks. The room was unoccupied. Everything looked as it should except for one thing. Lule wondered why the floors, bed and sofa were covered in sheets of black plastic, taped at the edges and sealed at the joins.
She slipped in and closed the door behind her.
Keeping her back to the wall, Lule edged her way around until she was able to see to the top of the spiral staircase.
There was no one up there.
A muffled groan cut the silence. At the same time a loud cheer came from the upper deck and the music started pumping again.
The first door Lule tried led through to an en-suite bath and shower room. It too was empty. The second door on the other side of the bed opened into a dressing room large enough to accommodate a sofa and an armchair, with a huge mirror that spanned the width of the room and items of clothing – suits, jackets and shirts – hanging on a rail that ran the length of one wall. At one end of the sofa, his back pushed against the rear cushions, sat Ermir.
He was almost unrecognisable. His head had been shaved, accentuating his drawn, skeletal face. His legs were bound at the ankles and his hands tied behind his back. When he looked up and realised it was Lule standing in the doorway, tears started to stream down, over his thin, hollow cheeks. Thick tape across his mouth prevented him from speaking, but his eyes said everything.
He tried to shuffle forward, off the sofa, but Lule was already on her way, her hand held out in front of her, ‘No, wait. You’ll fall. Let me untie you first.’
Lule’s eyes filled as she tugged and pulled at the bindings around his wrists. The knots were tight, but she quickly managed to free his hands. While he tore at the tape covering his mouth, Lule worked on the rope around his ankles, talking through her tears as she picked the knots loose with her nails.
‘I’m here, Ermir. I’m here, okay? Everything is going to be all right now. I am going to look after you: take you somewhere safe. No one will ever harm you again.’ Lule’s conscience was speaking for her, saying the things she should have said before. Talking to Ermir in a low whisper she continued, ‘I’ll be your mother, your sister and your best friend. Together we will be strong. Together we will take all the bad memories and roll them into a ball then throw them away, bury them in the dirt where they belong, and in their place we will put only good memories.’
When she’d finished and Ermir was finally free Lule scooped him up and held him in a tight embrace.
Eventually Lule whispered to Ermir, ‘We have to get out of here,’ then turned and headed out of the dressing room.
Two strides into the bedroom the butt of a pistol whipped across the back of her head and sent her sprawling to the floor. Lule stretched out her arms to break the fall and prevent herself from landing on top of Ermir. The Beretta she’d been holding slipped from her hand and bounced noiselessly across the plastic sheeting.
Down on all fours, she tried to scramble for the gun, but a kick to her abdomen forced the air from her lungs and knocked her onto her side. Then came another
blow, followed by another. As she lay gasping for breath she felt the steel pressing roughly into her temple.
A guy in a suit was bending over her. ‘You can keep struggling and I blow your head through the floor or you can lie there for a minute and catch your breath, then have a chat with Mister Vedon and his friend. What’s your call?’
Lule was breathing hard, trying to fill her lungs. She couldn’t see Ermir, but could hear a commotion over by the spiral staircase. ‘Please don’t harm the boy,’ replied Lule.
‘Stand up,’ said the guy, lifting the gun away from her head and pulling Lule to her feet.
Ermir was standing with his arms by his side, frozen, another one of Vedon’s men pressing a gun into the back of the young boy’s neck.
‘Who the fuck are you?’
Lule turned to see a guy wearing a loose-fitting suit sitting on the bed with his back against the headboard and his legs stretched out in front. Where both trouser legs had ridden up, pale skin showed above the top of a pair of black socks. An older guy carrying too much weight was sitting on the sofa. He looked uneasy, but was still managing a smile. Lule recognised his face, but couldn’t remember where from.
The guy on the bed was Verbër Vedon. Lule had seen him on the news plenty of times, but he looked different in real life.
‘I was expecting the lawyer,’ said Vedon before repeating, ‘So who the fuck are you? You the boy’s mother?’
‘I’m his everything,’ replied Lule.
‘Whatever the hell that means . . . So where is the lawyer? I was told she was back in town and looking to party?’
‘She’s on her way with the Policia.’
‘No, no, no, you must have missed the news. They’ve already been. A police officer friend of mine, and some of his guys were here already. Didn’t find what they were looking for, but you’ve jogged my memory. I think my friend was going to meet up with the lawyer lady: wanted to “take her out”.’ Vedon smiled to himself then added, ‘If you know what I mean. What’s the matter? You look like someone that’s just done a shit then realised there’s no toilet paper: can’t figure out what to do next.’
Walk in Silence Page 23
