‘No, I was thinking, I don’t think their date went too well. She called me a little while ago and said she was on her way back.’
‘Well, let’s see if she makes it.’
‘I think she will make it, but I’m not so sure about your friend. What’s with the fancy décor? I feel like I’m inside a bin bag.’
Vedon ignored Lule’s question and asked, ‘Did you kill Ibish and Kushtim?’
‘Ibish called me a bitch and Kushtim looked as dumb as a chicken,’ replied Lule.
‘So you killed them . . . my friends?’
‘I don’t like being called a bitch by anyone other than people who know me and I think chickens are so dumb they deserve all they get.’
Vedon stared at Lule for a moment like he accepted her reasoning, then carried on, ‘This is another friend of mine.’ Vedon pointed to the fat guy on the sofa who was still grinning. ‘Do you recognise him?’
‘He looks familiar.’
‘Where from?’
‘Is he the guy stacks shelves in my local supermarket? Does it matter whether I recognise the big fat fuck or not?’
‘I guess not,’ replied Vedon. ‘He’s a professional man, a politician – married too, but he has a darkness in his soul – don’t they all.’ Vedon gave a rueful smile and continued. ‘His story is so common now it’s almost a cliché. He craves power, but he is sick in the head. In the past they would have locked him in a cell and left him to rot, but these days you go into politics. It’s funny, no? It’s also good for business. We help him live out his fantasies and he helps us with our operations. He is very keen that your boy star in his next production. I will let you watch what he does to him and then I will let you see what happens to the children when they are finished with. The fancy décor in here is so we don’t get it all messed up. All this is for killing my friends. If you can walk away from this in silence, without shedding a tear, I will let you live. You can then spend the rest of your life crying for what you have done. This is a new game. D’you like it?’
‘I recognise you now,’ said Lule to the fat guy in the chair. ‘You’re that slimeball, minister for health. You’ve always given me the fucking creeps – now I know why.’
Vedon ignored Lule and nodded to the guy holding Ermir, ‘Bring the boy over and tie him to the bed. Make sure he’s on his front with his ass in the air.’
Just as Vedon got up from the bed, the boat suddenly lurched to one side, the movement so violent that everyone was thrown to the floor. The fat guy tumbled over the sofa, and collapsed in a heap against the far wall. Screams could be heard from the upper deck as the boat rocked back in the opposite direction. The guy holding Lule was on his hands and knees, an arm stretched in front as he reached for the gun that had slipped from his grasp. Lule got there first, diving along the floor and snatching the handgun up. In the same movement she rolled, twisted and fired two shots at point-blank range. Both bullets smashed through the top of his skull and exited near the base of his neck, killing him instantly.
Lule heard Ermir scream a warning and rolled off to one side as a bullet grazed her arm. A second bullet fizzed past her head as the boat lurched again and finally settled in the water. The movement was enough to throw the guy holding Ermir off balance and give Lule a brief opportunity to fire back. She didn’t stop until she’d emptied the gun, the guy’s body bucking and jolting as one bullet after another found its target.
Ermir cried out again, but too late this time for Lule to avoid the blunt toe of Vedon’s leather shoe connecting with the side of her head. Lule raised her arms in time to deflect a second kick, but as she scrabbled along the carpet Vedon made contact again with the outside of his right foot against her nose, sending a shock of pain shooting to the back of Lule’s skull.
Vedon was on top of her. He pulled the handgun from Lule’s grasp, pointed at her head and squeezed the trigger.
There was a dull click as the hammer struck the empty chamber.
Vedon’s cry of frustration was cut short by a loud crack of gunfire from the direction of the spiral staircase.
A ragged hole appeared in the ceiling above Vedon’s head.
Ermir was standing with a gun clasped in both hands, his emaciated arms struggling under its weight. ‘She is my sister and my mother and my friend . . . you will leave her alone.’
Thirty-three
It was just after midnight. There were still people sitting at tables on the terrace across from the pizzeria when the police car sped past doing over a hundred. It slowed as it approached the turn-off for the marina, but was still travelling too fast to take the turn and Keira had to fight to keep the Volkswagen from skidding off into the ditch.
The Cabrestrante was still serving. Everyone at the bar turned to watch the police car as it crashed through the gates and accelerated past, blue lights flashing, sirens wailing. The four henchmen standing guard on the shore side of the gangplank looked towards the oncoming vehicle wondering when it would start to slow, but Keira had no intention of easing her foot off the accelerator.
She saw the men reach towards their holsters, but there was no time for them to draw their weapons. They just managed to dive clear as the dark-blue VW launched itself off of the end of the quayside and ploughed into the stern of the Persephone.
Momentum carried the car forward through the glass doors of the party deck, across the dance floor and on to punch a hole in the starboard side of the luxury yacht’s hull. The force of the impact caused the boat to list violently to one side and ripped a hole in the stern where the yacht was tied off. A crack zig-zagged down the side of the hull, big enough to cause the lower decks to start taking in water.
The partygoers were pitched to the floor, tumbling one way then another as the yacht settled again. The front end of the police car was hanging out over the water, steam spewing from what was left of its engine bay. Keira put her shoulder to the driver’s door and forced it open.
With an MP7 in each hand she stumbled from the wreckage onto the deck of the party lounge. Something her uncle had once told her crashed her thoughts, ‘First thing to do in any situation is show people you’re not fucking about.’ Keira raised her left hand out to the side and squeezed off a burst of gunfire. A spray of bullets shattered the line of floor-to-ceiling windows opposite and initiated another round of screams and cries from the fallen partygoers. Some scrambled for the exits while others hid behind tables upended by the sudden listing of the yacht. Keira had no interest in the girls or the sorry collection of males wearing rip-off Armani suits and fake Rolexes: she was there to find Ermir and get him off the boat.
A movement from behind caught her attention. One of the henchman scrambling onto the stern, weapon raised. Keira felt the MP7s shudder as she opened fire on the turn and saw him jolt backwards a few steps before tumbling into the water.
Keira called out for Lule, but there was no response.
She tried again. ‘Lule!’
A girl sitting with her back against the wall answered, ‘Lule is downstairs.’
‘Can you show me?’ asked Keira.
‘Please, I want no trouble.’
‘Are you Verbër Vedon?’
The girl looked confused. ‘No, my name is Odeta.’
‘Then you won’t have any trouble. Do you speak English?’
‘Yes, a little.’
‘Tell everyone to stay on the ground and I’ll leave them alone. If everyone stays calm and keeps their guns in their pockets, everything will be fine – I’m here to have a word with Mister Vedon, take back what belongs to me, then I’ll leave you all alone to enjoy the rest of your evening.’
Odeta translated.
‘One more thing, Odeta, do you know what Mister Vedon looks like?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is he in this room right now?’
‘No, he is also downstairs, I think.’
‘Can you show me?’ asked Keira.
Odeta led Keira down to the lower deck and pointed to the room
where she’d last seen Lule. As she turned to leave, gunshots rang out from the room at the end of the hall.
‘Get off the boat, Odeta,’ whispered Keira as she squeezed past, heading in the direction the shots had come from.
The door at the end of the corridor was slightly ajar. Keira peered through the gap and saw Ermir on the far side of the room straining to level the gun he was holding. The way he stood, the tremor in his voice, the fear etched across his face, hit Keira hard. She looked down at her hands and saw they were trembling. She was no longer standing in the corridor of the Persephone, but walking up a set of darkened stairs to the sound of her father’s groans as he lay wounded in the hallway below. She could feel the weight of the gun in her hands, the strain on her arms, the sensation that some invisible force was dragging the weapon down as she tried to lift it and aim at the man attacking her uncle on the landing above. She remembered the crack, the ringing in her ears as she squeezed the trigger and knowing – even as an eight-year-old – that her life would never be the same. Just as she knew now that this must not be Ermir’s fate. He’d witnessed violence at a young age, just as Keira had, but she wouldn’t let him become a killer . . . like she had.
A figure appeared and launched himself at Ermir. Keira quickly stepped into the room and opened fire, the bullets tearing through the fat guy’s legs and shattering his kneecaps. As he buckled and fell, screaming in pain, the guy on top of Lule, Vedon, turned into Keira’s wide arcing swing, which sent him tumbling. Blood poured from his face where the butt of the MP7 ripped his cheek open.
Lule was already on her feet and heading to Ermir.
‘Get him off the boat,’ barked Keira as she raised both guns and pointed them at Verbër Vedon, who was writhing around holding his face. ‘I don’t want to kill you in front of the boy, but I will, so stay on the floor and don’t say a fucking word, understood?’
Lule grabbed the gun from Ermir and helped him climb the spiral staircase. ‘Where to?’ she called back to Keira.
‘Along the beach back to the car. I’ll be right behind you,’ shouted Keira as they disappeared from view.
A second later Lule was back, calling over her shoulder to Ermir to stay put as she descended the staircase again and headed over to the fat guy lying on the other side of the bed groaning as he clutched his wounds.
‘You are not going to fuck anything ever again Mister Health Minister,’ said Lule as she forced the barrel of the handgun into his groin and pulled the trigger.
Verbër Vedon flipped round holding a small Sig P220 and managed to get one round off before Keira fired a burst in return that knocked the gun from his hand and stopped him trying again.
‘You okay?’ asked Lule noticing Keira holding her arm.
‘A graze,’ replied Keira.
‘Meet you at the pizzeria,’ was thrown to Keira as Lule made her way back up the stairs.
*
‘I’m surprised to see you, Miss Lynch,’ said Vedon, pulling himself into a sitting position against the side of the bed.
‘Not as surprised as I am to see you again, Mister Pasha. You and Fat-Joe Jesus played me good.’
‘You’re a smart lady, but you don’t always get it right. Calling me a hustler at the foot-soldier end of the organisation. I’m the boss man, the krye. This is my fucking boat you’re standing on. You think you get this shit spending your life “stuck in a traffic jam”? In this country you got to be smarter than every wise guy out there.’
‘Yeah, you’re so smart, I’m the one standing here holding the gun.’
‘Fuck you. My friend Pavli told me he was going to kill you tonight, that’s why I’m surprised to see you.’
‘Yeah,’ replied Keira.
‘I can see from your face that he tried at least.’
‘When they find his headless corpse you’ll also see that he failed.’
‘You sure you’re a lawyer?’
‘People ask me that a lot.’
‘And what do you say?’
‘I’m many things.’
‘So, you’ve got the boy. If you make it out of Albania alive, you gonna get my friend Engjell E Zeze locked away for a very long time? Is that enough justice for you?’
‘Your friend E Zeze won’t survive till the end of his jail term. That’s justice.’
Daud Pasha snorted, ‘You going to have him killed in jail?’
‘He’s supernatural: he’ll get over it.’
‘You’re just as bad as him.’
‘Worse maybe. I have a conscience to deal with.’
‘What now? Call the cops?’
‘You’re so naive, Mister Pasha,’ replied Keira as she backed towards the spiral staircase. ‘I have so many questions for you, but you answered every one of them the moment you took a six-year-old child hostage.’
Keira squeezed both triggers, emptied what bullets were left into Daud Pasha, and left the room.
She climbed the spiral staircase to the sound of a corrupt politician with no balls screaming for mercy as he lay on the floor bleeding to death.
There’s no rejoicing in the death of others, thought Keira.
Thirty-four
The party room was empty: most had already left the yacht or were in the process of clambering off the wrecked boarding deck onto the quayside. Keira made her way past the police car embedded in the sidewall. Tables and chairs were scattered everywhere, food and drink littered the floor, lights flashed and the music continued to play.
A scream went up from those already on the quay as the Persephone listed a few degrees to starboard. Keira stumbled and had to hold on to a pillar to stop herself from falling over.
When she looked up Lule and Ermir were coming towards her, holding on to whatever they could to stay upright.
Lule called over the music, ‘There’s a boy downstairs.’
‘What?’
‘A boy! There’s another boy down below.’
‘Where?’
‘In one of the bedrooms. You take Ermir; I’ll go get him.’
‘I’ll go,’ replied Keira.
‘You don’t know where he is.’
‘I’ll find him. Get Ermir off the boat.’
Lule hesitated.
‘Get Ermir off the fucking boat,’ shouted Keira as she turned and headed back towards the stairs.
As she disappeared into the darkness she heard Lule call after her, ‘His name is Loran.’
The pitch of the boat meant that Keira had to brace herself against the wall as she made her way down the staircase. Just as she reached the bottom step the overhead lights started to flicker and the music suddenly stopped. The deck was already partly submerged. Keira stepped knee-deep into the icy water and felt the shock of cold running through her.
‘Loran?’
Keira called along the corridor and listened.
She tried again, ‘Loran?’
This time there was a response: a muffled cry.
The boat lurched again, more violently this time, causing Keira to lose her balance and fall headlong into the freezing seawater. In the same instant the lights flickered for the last time and extinguished, plunging the entire belowdecks into darkness. Keira stumbled to her feet, reached into the pitch black and – finding nothing to hold on to – fell again. Eventually, her hand grasped hold of the railing on the staircase and she was able to pull herself upright.
The boat was now taking on water fast. Even in the brief time she’d been belowdecks the level had already risen almost half a metre to just below her waist. The darkness was filled with sounds of rushing water gurgling its way through every crack and gap, and the eerie creaks and groans of the hull as it strained under the increasing pressure. Keira could feel a sense of rising panic. Even though the waters around the harbour were shallow they were still deep enough for the yacht to sink in. There was no question of her leaving the boy behind, but if she didn’t free him soon they could both drown.
Keira waded further along the corridor, touching
the walls with her fingertips as she searched blindly for the bedroom door.
‘Loran?’
This time she heard banging.
‘Keep making a noise,’ called Keira, following the sound until her fingers felt the door frame. As she fumbled underwater for the handle something brushed against her arm. There was something in the water floating alongside her. The unexpected contact sent a shock of adrenaline coursing through her. Keira lashed out, her clenched fists punching at whatever it was in an attempt to push it out of the way.
She felt the fingers of a hand try to grab hold of her.
‘Fuck!’
Keira fell back, thrashing and striking out.
A bulkhead fitting at the end of the corridor started to glow dimly as the emergency lighting finally kicked in. Floating just inches away – his face hanging limp below the surface – was Vedon’s corpse. Keira raised her leg out of the water and – using the flat of her shoe – kicked out, pushing against the dead weight.
‘Get to fuck away from me.’
The body drifted slowly back along the corridor and disappeared into the gloom.
Loran was banging at the door.
The handle was now visible, just below the surface. Keira grabbed hold of it, twisted and tugged at the door, but it was stuck fast, the pressure of the water and the swollen wood making any movement impossible. With one foot braced against the wall and both hands gripping the handle, Keira tried again, but she was exhausted, the cold seawater sapping what little strength she had left.
Loran sobbed as he repeated the same phrase over and over again. ‘Ju lutem mos më lër, ju lutem mos më lër, ju lutem mos më lër.’
Aware that time was running out for both of them, but not ready to give up, Keira tried again. She pulled until her arms ached and her fingers were numb.
The door started to give way.
Keira forced her fingers into the small gap she’d created and after a few more tugs the opening was just wide enough for the young boy’s head to squeeze through, followed by his shoulders and finally his hips.
Walk in Silence Page 24
