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The Girl Who Made Them Pay

Page 14

by Tikiri Herath


  “Sorry, I didn’t see you,” I stammered.

  “Americaine?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled pleasantly.

  “Yes,” I said. I was now resigned to it. It was much easier than to correct them, anyway.

  The man’s eyes traveled down to my rumpled skirt. I quickly smoothed it out. I’d been living in this skirt for five days now. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. “I guessed correctly,” he said in English.

  I gave him a frozen smile.

  “I saw you looking at my pastries. Would you like to come inside and take a look?” He opened the door and waved me in.

  I hesitated.

  “Window-shopping is great, but real shopping is even more delicious. I can promise you that. Haha!”

  I smiled. I stopped for a second to see if I could spot Luc and then stepped inside. My brain had begun to whir again. This could be a solution to our problems.

  The fragrance of fruit, spices and gourmet baking embraced me as I stepped in.

  “So what would you desire, mademoiselle Americaine? Might I suggest our waffles? You must never leave Belgium without trying the waffle.”

  But something more important had caught my eyes.

  “Can I take a look around first?” I asked, brightly.

  “Bien sur, of course,” he said, “Please, be my guest.” With a slight bow, he turned around and went off to charm an old couple who were getting up to leave.

  One of Chef Pierre’s signature marks was the kitchen at the back, set behind a glass partition. I walked over to look.

  The stainless-steel ovens, fridges, and mixers gleamed spotless. A stack of fresh-baked bread sat on a wooden table, calling out to be sliced and buttered. Bakers and sous chefs in white hats and aprons busied themselves like bees at a happy hive.

  I watched them as they worked the mixers, kneaded the dough, poured the batter, slid trays of beautifully shaped dough into the industrial-sized ovens, then pulled out the final baked goods with thick white serviettes in their hands. They worked fast but unhurried. I breathed it all in, trying not to get lost in the warmth of it all.

  This is my heaven. I imagined standing behind the bread counter with a tall white chef hat. To be the queen of cakes and crumpets. If only they'd let me work here. A man in the corner was rolling dough so quickly, his hand seemed to blur from where I stood. He saw me watching and winked in acknowledgment. I blushed and looked away. I wasn’t just standing here for fun. A plan had been forming in the back of my mind.

  I needed to buy time and blend in, so I strolled over to the newspaper rack. The same magazine I’d picked up at Heathrow in London was still out. I’d left my own copy in my jacket pocket back at the house.

  I looked around. The store wasn’t as busy as I’d like it to be yet.

  I picked up the magazine and started flipping through the pages, scanning the photos and headlines, not really reading. But when I opened the centerfold, I almost dropped the magazine.

  The photo spread was of an ancient stone castle on a hilly landscape. In front of this magnificent piece of architecture stood a shriveled-up woman, dripping in jewelry twice her weight, and cuddling two brown dachshunds.

  If it weren’t for her modern clothes and the vivid colors in the picture, I would have sworn the photo was from a bygone era, a time of knights and dragons. The caption read, “The indomitable Grande Baroness Agathe to host international party of the year.”

  But it was the picture inset that had grabbed my attention. In it, Chef Pierre beamed, looking his happy self, as usual. Leaning casually against his arm was a tall woman in a superb white Chanel suit. I did a double take. The Diplomatic Dragon Lady?

  She looked exactly the same as when I’d met her in Toronto. Striking yet haughty. Beautiful yet venerable. It was this grand woman who’d chosen me, from all the professionals in town, to cater to her diplomatic parties in Toronto. I’d worked for her. I’d catered her parties. She was here, in Europe for a party hosted by this baroness in Luxembourg, no less.

  Someone dropped a spoon nearby. The clatter as it hit the floor woke me up. I can't stand here all day reading. I have work to do.

  There were six people in line at the counter now. Behind it was a young server in a red shirt and black skirt, and white gloves on her hands. She was rushing up and down the aisle with boxes and trays, packing cakes for a birthday, piling macarons for a tea party.

  Everyone was busy. Even the man in the apron was immersed in a problem with the coffee grinder. No one noticed me. I’d faded into the background, exactly as planned. Good.

  I returned the magazine to the rack and walked over to the glass shelf, then, after another quick glance, I picked up the dark chocolate roll. As casually as I could, I walked out the door, carrying my booty with me.

  “Hey!”

  I didn’t look back. I hopped down the steps and ran.

  “Arret!”

  “Voleur!”

  I broke into a sprint, running toward the shawarma joint, the only place I could get lost in the bustle of the market.

  “Asha!”

  I’d bumped into Luc head-on. I didn’t even look at him. I grabbed him by the shirt and said, “Run! Now! No time to explain.”

  He held me by my arms. I struggled in panic. “They’re after me.”

  “What the heck’s going on?”

  “I stole a chocolate roll,” I said, breathlessly. “We gotta run!”

  “No, we don’t,” he said, pointing at something down the street. “Look.”

  I turned to look.

  The man in the apron was standing on his side of the street, waving an angry fist. That invisible line that separated the fancy stores from the immigrant district was like a force field. He didn’t dare cross to this side.

  I looked around. A crowd had gathered around us now. It was the gang of men who’d been admiring the motorcycle earlier. They stood casually, arms crossed, watching the scene. It dawned on me it was they who were keeping the man from the café away.

  I couldn’t look at him anymore. Even from this distance, I could see the hurt on his face, that shaking of his head. He’d welcomed me in with a smile to try his baked treats, and I’d rewarded him by stealing one of his most expensive pastries. A pang of guilt went through me but my desire to rescue Katy was far greater.

  Someone jostled me. The crowd was inching closer, claustrophobic now.

  “Who are these people?" I whispered to Luc.

  A bearded man looked me over, his creepy eyes slithering down me. I inched closer to Luc.

  “Your girl?” he said to Luc.

  Luc grabbed me by the elbow. “Come,” he said, pulling me out of the crowd. “Let’s get out of here.”

  He didn't say anything until we were halfway inside the market, well away from the men.

  “Why did you take off like that?” he said, half-angry. “I was looking for you”.

  “Look what I got,” I said, showing him the luxurious chocolate roll. “This’ll keep Zero busy and we can get the key.”

  “Asha,” Luc said, giving me a piercing look with his bright blue eyes.

  “What?”

  He put his hands on my shoulders and squeezed them gently. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “How come?”

  “I got enough cash now to buy a thousand chocolate rolls.”

  Part FIVE

  I am strong, because I've been weak.

  I am fearless, because I've been afraid.

  I am wise, because I've been foolish.

  Unknown

  Chapter Thirty

  “How’s Katy?”

  It was my first question when we got to the third floor.

  “You’re back!” Tetyana jumped up when she saw us.

  She was still holding the gun and had been leaning back against the railing when we’d tiptoed up. Vlad remained tied up and on his knees, his face lined with exhaustion. I noticed a couple more bruises on his face. He didn’t even bother opening his eyes when
we came up.

  Win, who’d been waiting for us patiently in the kitchen, told us that Zero had been sound asleep for the past hour, having succumbed to the cocktail of drugs and alcohol he’d taken that morning. We heard his sonorous snores through the locked door as we walked up.

  I had Bibi’s robe back on now. On our return, we’d managed to sail past the police patrol outside. I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but I detected a note of sympathy from them. One officer even nodded as we walked by her holding hands, trying hard not to hurry as if we were merely returning home from a casual trip to the market.

  “So did you get some?” Tetyana asked Luc.

  Digging into his trouser pockets, Luc produced a small yellow container of pills, like one you’d find in a drugstore.

  “Not as strong as what I usually use, but it’ll do,” Tetyana said, inspecting the container. “You’re resourceful, Luc. Don’t know how you do it, but you always come through.”

  I pulled out the chocolate roll from under my robe with a flourish.

  “Look what I got to get Zero out,” I said, with a mixture of pride and guilt at my contribution. I looked up at Tetyana expecting a compliment for my hard work.

  Her face fell. “That’s it?”

  That’s it? A Chef Pierre luxury chocolate roll?

  “We also got this,” Luc said, showing her a plain brown paper bag of shawarma and fries.

  “Oh good,” she replied.

  I looked down at my gourmet chocolate roll which would have cost thirty times the fast food we’d brought.

  “There’s more downstairs,” Luc was saying. We’d picked up a container of cheap food from a Pakistani stall on our way back. We’d put it right outside the room Zero had barricaded himself in. “Once he smells it, he’ll come out.”

  I could smell it too. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten for more than two days now, but with Katy gagged and locked up and not knowing what our future held, I didn’t feel much like eating at all.

  “I’m starved,” Win said, looking longingly down the stairs.

  “Here,” I said, handing the chocolate roll to Win. “It’s really good.” Someone might as well enjoy it.

  Win opened the cover, swiped the icing with her fingers and licked them.

  “We have to wake the man first. Go bang on the door or something,” Tetyana said thoughtfully as she reached over to break a piece of the cake. “Then, we have to figure out how to take the key without him realizing. That’s where the pills come in handy.”

  “What do they do?” I asked, looking at the container.

  “Put him back to sleep,” Tetyana said, with a wry smile. “He managed to do that all by himself, I know. But we need him out here, sleeping, so we can grab the gun and the keys and get out with minimum fuss. Without arousing the authorities outside.”

  “How do we get out?” I asked. “Through the passageway?”

  “What passageway?” Luc asked.

  “That won’t work,” Win said, looking slightly sheepish.

  “How do you know?” I said.

  She shot Tetyana an embarrassed look. “Sorry, I know you wanted me to watch the back door, but I went exploring a bit just in case.”

  Tetyana merely raised her eyebrows.

  “So did you find anything?” I said.

  Win shook her head. “There’s a door in the basement, but it opens to a cellar. There’s no way out there. Just found some stale food in the back.”

  “Food?” I looked at her in surprise. We went on a wild goose chase for food when there was some right here?

  “Not much,” Win said. “One small bag of old flour, a can of oil and a bag of moldy potatoes. There’s also a loaf of bread, but it’s gone hard. Must have been sitting there for ages. There’s nothing to proper to eat or to get Zero out.”

  We were silent for a minute, everyone in deep thought.

  A phone rang, startling all of us. With trembling fingers, Luc pulled a phone out of his pocket and turned it on.

  “Oui,” he said to the mouthpiece.

  I strained to listen. It was a man’s voice on the other end.

  “Just preparing the delivery right now,” Luc said with a worried look his face.

  We stared at him. He turned away from us, still focused on the phone, but we could still hear him.

  “Sure,” he was saying. “But can I get an extra hour?”

  Tetyana gave me a quizzical look. I shrugged.

  “The thing is,” Luc stammered, “there’s police everywhere. Can’t rush it, man.”

  Silence.

  “Come on man, give me a break, will—”

  The phone line went dead.

  “Merde!” Shit.

  Luc stared at the phone for a few seconds before switching it off. Then, he turned around slowly to face us.

  We watched him silently, warily.

  He cleared his throat. “I er forgot to tell you something.”

  Tetyana’s eyes narrowed. “Apparently.”

  “While you were away—er—procuring your chocolate roll, Asha,” he said with a side glance at me, “I sold some of my packets to make some money.”

  “Who are these people? You know them from London?” Tetyana asked, her brow furrowed.

  Luc nodded. “My crew in Paris knows these guys. There’s always someone who knows someone, so I just had to connect the dots. It’s a small world.”

  “How did you do that with the police around?”

  “The cops never go to the immigrant district. They burn police cars there. They hate white people coming in. Same thing in Paris, Amsterdam, and Berlin. But I know these guys so it always works for me.”

  Luc reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.

  We huddled closer to take a look.

  “This is the deposit,” he said. “They gave me two hundred, but I spent most of it on the pills.” He looked down at the phone in his hand. “They gave me this to call for the pickup.” He paused. “And to track me.”

  This was news to me. I looked at the phone.

  “Why did you take such a risk?” I asked.

  “How did you think I’d find money to buy the food and the pills?”

  “Take it,” I said, ignoring the guilty pang that went through me. “Like I did.”

  “You were lucky,” Luc said. “You think we can go around stealing stuff and get away in the immigrant district? They’d beat me up in a heartbeat. And you, they’ll do things to you, you’ll never sleep for the rest of your life.”

  I shivered under the robe.

  “You say one wrong word, they get offended and you’re dead. You gotta negotiate with these people. That’s how you survive.”

  “We didn’t need all that food,” I said. “The chocolate roll would have done the job.”

  “Zero doesn’t even like chocolate!” Luc snapped.

  “People, people,” Tetyana said. “We’re here now. Let’s move on, okay?”

  Luc shrugged. “I was trying my best.”

  “You both were,” Tetyana said gently. “So when’s the delivery?”

  “In two hours,” Luc said.

  I looked at him aghast. “So we have to wake Zero up, get him outside, put him to sleep again, rescue Katy, run out and deliver drugs in two hours?”

  “We’ll find a way,” Luc said looking away. “We always do.”

  “There’s one big problem,” Tetyana said. “How to get the packets out without those cops intercepting?”

  “They didn’t check us when we got back,” I said.

  “Don’t let that fool you. They can stop you at any time. Again and again, if they feel like it, and if they take you away, I won’t be able to help you.”

  “Can we just ignore them, these drug men? I mean, we have the police all around us, right? They’re good protection.”

  “Cops won’t be here forever,” Tetyana replied. “They make a lot of fuss for a day or two, check everyone, then move to a new place.”

&nbs
p; “Why can’t we get these drug men to come here, then?” Win asked. “Then, it will be their problem.”

  “Good thinking, Win, but that’d be too dangerous,” Luc said, shaking his head. “The police probably know all of them. They won’t want to come anywhere near here and show their faces.”

  “Recipe for a gun battle,” Tetyana said, nodding. “And we’ll be right in the crosshairs.”

  Recipe? My mind began to whir.

  “We need a waterproof system. Those dogs smell everything,” Luc said. “And the police know all the tricks.”

  “I know a woman in Bangkok who swallowed a package, and it burst in her tummy in the plane,” Win said.

  “Extreme,” Luc said.

  “She died,” Win said.

  “I know a Russian woman who hid packets in her implants,” Tetyana said. “But they found her out pretty fast.”

  “Luc,” I said, an idea solidifying in my mind. “Can you break your stuff into tiny packets? Say this size?” I showed a three-inch gap using my fingers.

  “Should work.”

  “I think I know how to confuse the police dogs,” I said. “And get your packets to those men.”

  “They’re smarter than you think,” Tetyana said. “The dogs, I mean.”

  “There’s a risk, but there’s always a risk,” I said.

  Tetyana gave me a long, thoughtful stare. “How long you need?”

  “Thirty minutes tops.”

  Chapter Thirty-one

  “Oh my god, he’s so cute!”

  “Take picture with me!”

  I stared at the little boy peeing brazenly in front of everyone.

  A throng of older Japanese women were giggling and jostling each other to take a picture of the two-foot bronze statue posing in all his naked glory, unabashedly urinating into a stone fountain. The statue was near a busy street full of lace shops, chocolatiers, and buzzing tourists.

  “I used to do that all the time as a kid and they yelled at me,” Luc said. “If I did that now, they’d arrest me or something.”

  We were walking toward Brussels’ Grand-Place looking for his “partner,” as Luc called the man from the market we were supposed to meet. Back at the house, we’d banged on the door, called out and made enough noise to wake the devil, but the real devil, Zero, had slept through it all. The plan now was for us to deliver the packets and return quickly to help Tetyana figure out her part of the mission.

 

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