by Anna Smith
Rosie nodded to Nicu to translate and watched Madelina as he spoke, his voice gentle. She could see her face twitch a little, and she swallowed and bit her lip. Rosie’s heart went out to her as she glanced around this tiny, impoverished room, trying to imagine the pain for this young woman, going through a pregnancy and then coming back into this place without her baby. It was unthinkable. She listened as Madelina responded, then Nicu turned to Rosie.
‘She will tell you what happened. But she is afraid. Because the people who did this must be very powerful. She says she thinks that her husband, who left her two months before the baby was due, had maybe been behind this. He is an alcoholic and a bad man. She thinks maybe he went to these people and sold their baby for money.’
Rosie glanced at Matt and shook her head in disbelief. And deep down, she chided the journalist in her for knowing that this story was getting even better. She asked Nicu if it was possible for Madelina to talk them through what she recalled of that morning, and about her life since. Ariana came in from the kitchen with coffee and a tray of cups, and handed them out. Then Madelina sipped from hers, her hand trembling as she held it, and began her story.
Rosie watched while Madelina, her soft voice in the stillness of the room, told her story. And as she broke down, wiping her tears with her sleeve, they all sat awkwardly until she stopped weeping and continued. It was hard going, and even without understanding a word the pain of what Madelina had gone through was palpable. Then Nicu turned to Rosie and translated.
‘Madelina is telling me what happened. And as you can see, she is very upset. It is almost a year ago, but it is still so fresh in her mind and always will be.’
Rosie produced a tape recorder from her bag and set her notebook on her lap.
‘Is it okay if I use this to tape the conversation?’
Madelina nodded her agreement, and Rosie switched it on as Nicu began to translate her story.
‘It was to be her first baby, and she was very excited about it, even though her marriage was not good. Her husband, Eadbert, had been involved with some of the local gangsters – as you know, there are more of them in recent years. They take money from the bars – protection money and things like that. And sometimes he would go away for days at a time. So things were not good between them. He was also a drunk and sometimes he would beat her, even when she was pregnant. Eadbert said he didn’t want a baby, even though in the beginning he had seemed pleased. By the time she was eight months pregnant, he said he was leaving. One morning Eadbert got up, packed his things and left her. She was very upset. She had nobody to turn to, as her parents are both dead, and the only people she had were the few friends around here in the flats. She had very little to prepare for the baby’s arrival, but one of her friends gave her a crib.’ Nicu gestured behind him towards the hall, where the bedrooms were. ‘She still has it in the bedroom.’
Rosie could sense Matt seeing a picture opportunity for later, but for now she wanted to hear all of this. Nicu went on.
‘In the hospital, her labour was normal until the last stages and it seemed a little difficult for the baby to come out. That is how Madelina put it to me. But when she was born, a little girl, they showed her to her briefly but had to take her to another room, they said, to resuscitate her. They didn’t allow Madelina to hold the baby. They said they will come back with her in a few minutes when the baby is breathing. Madelina was a little worried about the baby, but was happy that she had given birth. She waited. And waited for a long time, then asked the nurse where the baby was. But she seemed to avoid coming to her bed, then eventually another nurse came in and told her the baby had died, that they were very sorry. Madelina couldn’t believe them and she, as you can imagine, was so upset. She asked to see her baby, but they told her that was not possible or even advisable, that the baby was dead. Like stillborn. But Madelina knew that the baby was moving when they showed her to her in the beginning. She thought they must be lying, but why would they? She was in a maternity hospital and people were here to deliver babies, so she knew she had to believe them. She knew nothing of whether they allowed you to see your baby if it has died. The hospital said that is their policy because a mother is in a very upset state mentally and seeing the corpse of their newborn baby would be even more traumatic.’
Rosie could barely believe what she was hearing. She tried to imagine what it must be like to be denied even a glimpse of your baby at that moment, and to have nobody around her to comfort you. They sat in silence for a moment, and then Nicu continued.
‘When Madelina came out of the hospital the following day, she pleaded with them to tell her what had happened, but they just explained that the baby wasn’t breathing and had died, and it happens. There was nothing they could do. She even asked if she could have the body so she could bury her, but was told she already had been cremated. That was hospital policy, they said. They gave her the death certificate. All it said was the baby’s name, Iasius, and the name of the parents. She still has it. She could not believe or understand this cruelty. She walked out of the hospital that day and her life, she has told me, has ended since then. She came home to the apartment here and sat in a kind of shock for a few days, crying and in a terrible state. One of her friends has helped her a little and made some food for her. So that is how her life became. But her friend told her it would be easier to sleep if she had a drink of vodka in the night, and so that is how she started drinking. Now, she says to me, she is an alcoholic. She admits that the alcohol does help and that every day, she must take some alcohol to get her through the day and that then she doesn’t cry so much. She said some days she feels she cannot put one foot in front of the other to walk because she is so sad and so desperate.’
Rosie didn’t know what to say as she looked at Madelina, who was weeping and shaking. She waited a moment until she had regained her composure.
‘I know this is painful for her, Nicu,’ Rosie said. ‘But can you ask her if I can see the death certificate?’
Nicu spoke to Madelina and she got up and went into a bedroom. She returned with an official document. On it was the name of a baby, Iasius Onescu.
‘What does it say, Nicu?’
Nicu read it. ‘It gives the name of the parents and the baby. It says stillborn. But that is not true, as we know from Madelina. Because she says the baby was moving when she was born.’
‘Jesus,’ Rosie murmured. ‘Nicu, can you also ask her this: how did she get the information that perhaps her baby had been sold? Where did that come from?’
Nicu asked her and then translated.
‘It was one of her friends who works in the bar a couple of blocks away from here. Madelina hasn’t seen her husband since the day he left, but the barmaid in that place said she had spoken to someone who knew him and that he seen him in another bar in a town not too far from here, and that her husband had told the person that he had made a deal to sell their baby. He was drunk one time and said he didn’t want a baby and it was best for Madelina now that he had gone that she wasn’t saddled with a baby. But he is just evil for what he did. If he did do it, it wasn’t for Madelina or anyone except for himself and for money. She said she wanted to go to the authorities, to the police, but with what evidence? Who will listen to her? Who will believe her? And now, so many months later, as she is drinking, who is going to listen to a woman who is drunk?’
For a moment, Rosie had to keep her eye on her notebook.
‘Tell her I believe her, Nicu.’ Rosie swallowed, looking at Madelina. ‘Tell her I will do everything I can to find out what happened to her baby. Everything. I cannot say what will happen, but please tell her she has a friend in us, and we will not stop until we find out the truth.’
Nicu nodded and translated what Rosie had said. As he did so, Madelina wiped away her tears with her hands, saying thank you. Rosie knew that she could promise no more than what she had, but she resolved there and then that if she did nothing else in her life, she would find out what had happened to t
hat baby and where she was now.
Chapter Thirteen
For the first few minutes of the journey back to the hotel, nobody spoke. Rosie gazed through the windscreen as they drove through the rundown streets where the few shops and cafés that looked open were mostly empty. She could still feel the firm grasp of Madelina’s hand in hers when they were leaving the apartment, and hear her pleading with Nicu to find the truth of what happened to her baby. If her daughter was happy now with someone else, she told Nicu, then she would have to accept it. She was a pitiful sight, her face blotchy, and by now, Rosie thought, she was probably topping up her cup with neat vodka to get through the rest of her day. Madelina had been willing to have a silhouette picture taken of her with her back to the crib, and that was as good as it was going to get. Matt was happy enough to have been able to get a picture of the birth certificate and any shots inside the house, and he took some snaps of the building and the general landscapes on the way to the car. McGuire would be delighted, but they were a long way from getting the story Rosie wanted. They were here to pursue the story of Alan Lewis’s links with the baby trade, but right now, if she could find out what had happened to Madelina’s baby that would be just about enough, she thought, as they drove into the hotel car park.
In the bar, she relayed Madelina’s story to Adrian, and she knew that – although it was always hard to work out what was in his mind – this time she could see the disbelief and anger in his eyes.
‘The father sold his own daughter?’
Rosie nodded. ‘We don’t know that for sure, but that is what Madelina has been told.’ She looked at all of them. ‘We have to find him. He’s the key to a lot of this, and if we find him, and apparently he’s some drunk, then we can maybe get something out of him without blowing our cover.’
‘Do we know anything about where he might be?’
‘Not really, but we know the bar where Madelina was told he was talking about it that night. I think if we go there, discreetly, we may be able to get a lead.’ She turned to Nicu. ‘What do you think, Nicu?’
He nodded, his mouth downturned. ‘Is a possibility. But not you, Rosie. You cannot go in and ask questions in an area like that. Would have to be me.’ He looked at Adrian. ‘And perhaps you, my friend?’
‘Of course,’ Adrian said. ‘I can go with you.’
‘Money talks everywhere in Romania. So if we can find the barmaid that Madelina told us about, we can get more information. If we can give her some money.’
‘Are you sure you are okay to work with us on this, Nicu? I mean, being so upfront?’
‘It’s okay for me. I work mostly in Bucharest and I can keep my head down for a while if this becomes a story. But I want to try. I was very sad to hear the details from Madelina today.’
Adrian said nothing, and Rosie could read his thoughts. The idea of selling your own child would be so abhorrent to someone like him, who had lost his own unborn son after Serb soldiers tore him from the womb of his pregnant wife.
‘I think we should get moving on this. I don’t want to hang around now that we’ve been to see Madelina,’ Rosie said.
Nicu drained his cup. ‘Then we should go now.’
‘We’ll go behind you,’ Rosie said. ‘I’ll be with Ariana, but we’ll be in a café as far away from the area as need be. But it would be good if Matt could be in the same café as you. He has good camera equipment that can film discreetly. Whatever happens here, I want to have an image of Madelina’s husband. So if the barmaid gives you a direction or a place we can find him, I need Matt to be there.’
‘Okay. I think we can do that.’
They all stood up, and Rosie could feel that little dig of nerves in her gut that told her things were about to happen. They had a long way to go, but she hoped they were going in the right direction.
*
Rosie kept checking her mobile in the café while she and Ariana waited for a call from Adrian or Nicu. Nicu had called nearly three hours ago to say they had a lead on where the husband drank and were heading there. They were now on their third cup of tea, having grazed through all of the snacks on offer. It was beginning to get dark outside, but she was relieved that the café was reasonably busy with people who looked like they’d been working or were out for an early evening drink. She noted there were a few foreigners in the place – they looked Scandinavian or German, probably tourists, or ex-pats working in the various charity organisations dotted around the region. Rosie was ashamed to admit to herself that she always felt edgy in foreign lands, and was always glad when there were some other people she could assume were tourists. It wasn’t that she was racist, or afraid of foreigners, but she had so many close calls happen to her on foreign turf that she preferred to remain close to a big city when abroad. And as she wasn’t in a city, she preferred to have someone like Adrian at her side.
Eventually, Rosie’s mobile rang and it was Nicu.
‘Nicu. How did it go?’ she asked.
‘It was good.’
‘Was he there? Did you get to talk to him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Excellent. Can you give us a call when you get close to here? Then we’ll all head back to the hotel.’
Ariana looked enquiringly at her.
‘Nicu says it’s gone well,’ Rosie said.
‘He was there? They met Eadbert?’ asked Ariana.
‘So it seems. Nicu and Adrian are on their way back with Matt. We’ll hear it all when we’re back at the hotel.’
Ariana nodded. ‘Your friend Adrian – he doesn’t say very much.’
Rosie smiled. ‘No. He doesn’t. But tell you what, though, Ariana. If you were ever in a corner and you needed a hand, you’d want him to be close by.’
‘You’ve known him long?’
‘Yeah,’ Rosie said. ‘A long time. We’re old friends.’
Ariana nodded and asked no more, and Rosie was glad not to get drawn into a conversation about Adrian.
*
In the hotel bar, they found a quiet corner and ordered beers from the waiter, while they listened to Nicu and Adrian talk.
‘What’s he like?’ Rosie asked.
‘He’s a drunk,’ Nicu said. ‘He was already a bit drunk when he came into the bar. That made it a bit easier. Eadbert’s a stupid man. Boasting about connections. He is the kind of man that the people he deals with would think nothing of just getting rid of him.’
‘I agree,’ Adrian said. ‘He was stupid enough to brag to us that he knew all the people who sell the babies.’
‘He actually said that?’ Rosie turned to Nicu. ‘You have that on tape?’
‘He sure does,’ Matt said. ‘I had a listen to it on the way back. I’ve no idea what he says, but Nicu says he is confirming that he is involved. But I managed to get a snatch pic of him anyway, and it’s not bad.’
Rather than listen to the tape right now, Rosie asked them to talk her through it.
‘When we went to the first bar, as you know the lady pointed us . . .’ Nicu said, ‘we were in there for nearly an hour when he came in. Eadbert was a bit drunk and went straight to the bar and ordered a beer. The bar was not very busy and he was looking at the few people who were in. But nobody talked to him. I saw him scraping up coins for his next beer when I was at the bar, and I smiled to him and asked did he want a beer. I made some excuse about directions and we struck up a conversation. I told him we are looking at business ventures here. And that was it. He came and sat beside us, and started talking.’
At one stage, Nicu said, they started talking about the orphans, and about the red tape for couples trying to adopt. Then, to their astonishment, the drunk started spilling out about how he knew a company who operates very discreetly and doesn’t advertise, but people like him can put couples in touch with them. This adoption company, he told them, gets babies for couples who cannot get through the red tape. Eadbert said the red tape is just stupid, that everyone wants a chance of a good life, that this company is doing Romania a g
reat service. He then went on to describe even newborn babies can be sold. When they expressed disbelief, he described much of what Madelina had said. And when they said it was hard to believe, Eadbert then said that he knows better than anyone, because he did it himself.
‘Christ,’ Rosie said. ‘He must be completely stupid to admit that to total strangers.’
‘He was drunk by this time. He’d had four beers and a whisky on top of what he’d already had.’
‘He could say it was the drink talking,’ Matt said.
Rosie knew that. ‘Yes. But we already have a story of a woman saying it had happened to her, and that her husband might have been involved. If we have that kind of evidence, it might be enough to go to the authorities with. To the police.’
Nicu sighed. ‘The police are corrupt, Rosie. As corrupt as the gangsters.’
‘They can’t all be corrupt,’ Rosie said.
Nicu shrugged, but didn’t answer.
‘Well,’ Rosie said. ‘We can go to the British embassy. If we can nail the name of the company and connect it to Alan Lewis, a British citizen, then that makes it our business.’
Nicu nodded. ‘Is true. Is worth a try.’
Chapter Fourteen
Helen knew that seducing Ricky Thomson would be the easy part. The problem was going to be getting out of his clutches – smartish. She didn’t have time on her side. As she lay wide awake in the darkness watching him snoring like a bull next to her, she re-ran the past few hours.
She knew Ricky would be stupid enough to let his guard down if she showed the least bit of interest in him. So for the last day, while she was a prisoner in this apartment, she’d made sure he’d be putty in her hands. She knew she was halfway there when he appeared last night and told the knuckle-trailer who’d been guarding her that he could beat it for the night. So when he cracked open a bottle of Jack Daniel’s, Helen decided this was it. Halfway down the bottle, Ricky was relaxed and telling her how he’d always fantasised about her while they were teenagers back in the Gorbals, but he’d always thought she was out of his reach. Nonsense, Helen purred as she’d reached across and caressed his thigh. He’d given her a couple of drinks, and she’d been feeling relaxed too. Two-thirds of the way down the bottle and Ricky started blabbing that he’d heard that Alan was involved with some heavies abroad who were involved in selling Romanian babies. Helen thought he must be raving. She’d always known Alan was a money-grabbing bastard in his job and she sussed early on that he was laundering money. But selling weans? That wasn’t his bag. The Alan she knew couldn’t do anything like that. She wanted to push Ricky for more information, but was too afraid to make an issue out of it in case he thought she was fishing. She wondered if it was anything to do with the Romanian export business she’d seen him named in as a director. But if it was true, and Alan was involved in selling babies, there wasn’t much she could do about it now. She had her own shit to deal with, and right now she had to deal with this prick Ricky. But the more he drank, the more he talked. He even told her it hadn’t been his idea to kidnap her, but he was only doing what he was told by some foreign guy – Russian, he thought – who’d been in business with Alan. It was his mob’s money that had gone missing when the accounts had been closed, and he wanted to question Helen himself. He’d be arriving the next afternoon. Ricky told her that if this guy believed her then she’d be free to go. That’ll be right, Helen thought sarcastically. She knew it was now or never. She had to get the hell out of here before some Russian thug came kicking the door in, punching answers out of her pretty face. If she told him what she’d done, she’d be in the bottom of the River Clyde before the day was out. If she kept up her lie, she’d get a hiding and a lot worse. It was a no-brainer. Ricky was her only option. All the crap he’d been shouting at the start that it was his money had been bullshit. Ricky was the enforcer – same as he’d always been. He talked a good game. He might have moved around with all the hard men, but he was just the same thick muscle he’d been for the various toerags they’d all known back in the Gorbals. Around midnight, she’d asked him to pour her another Jack Daniel’s while she went to the bathroom. And when she emerged a couple of minutes later, stark naked, his jaw just about hit the floor. He was out of his clothes in a flash, and across the room lifting her up, Helen wrapping her legs around him as though she’d been waiting for this moment all her life. Despite the amount of alcohol Ricky had knocked back, he was inside her before they even hit the bed.
