To Tell the Truth (26 page)

‘Yes, I know,’ Rosie said. ‘I feel the same, but he might turn out to be useful to us. In his kind of business, maybe the people who have Amy will get in touch with him.’ Just saying the words made Rosie feel sick at the thought of it.

From where she was sitting she saw that Javier had evidently struck up some kind of rapport with Vinny. The waiter brought them drinks and both of them appeared to be doing plenty of talking. In the half light she could see the lean face of Vinny, his eyes narrowed in concentration as Javier spoke. Next to the robust figure of Javier,
he was very weedy, with wispy hair that was too thin to be worn long.

‘He certainly looks like a wee pervert,’ Rosie said to Matt. ‘I can’t wait to hear what he and Javier are talking about.’

‘Me too,’ Matt said. ‘Looks like your Spanish pal has got him eating out of his hand.’

They ordered a platter of local dishes and house specials recommended by the waiter. Adrian told Rosie that he already had some ideas of where to look for Besmir, but he didn’t say what he would do if and when he found him. The once or twice he’d met Besmir, he found him distant and quiet, and he always looked unhappy. He couldn’t understand what kind of man could steal a small child from its parents. The fact that Besmir could do that meant he was capable of anything. He would tread warily in his hunt for him, he told them.

Later as they sipped coffee, Matt ordered a hookah pipe, joking that it would make them blend in with the tourists. Rosie went along with it, and at one point she caught Javier’s eye as she was puffing on it. He gave her a look that said he was getting on well with his new-found pervert amigo.

‘When this Vinny leaves, I will follow him,’ Adrian said. ‘Is useful to know where he goes, where he lives.’

‘Good idea. But I don’t want any harm to come to him.’

Adrian nodded, his face blank.

After a while Vinny stood up, and Rosie could see just how skinny and creepy he looked. He was wearing baggy combat trousers and his bony chest was exposed by a
tight, low cut tee shirt that wouldn’t have been out of place on a girl. He looked clammy and pale with hair that had been dyed so many times it wasn’t any definable colour.

‘He looks like a wee faggot,’ Matt said.

They watched as he left the cafe, then Adrian got up.

‘I will call you later, Rosie.’

He put his hand into his pocket, but Rosie waved him away.

Rosie’s mobile rang. It was Javier, and she looked up to see him in the corner with his phone at his ear.

‘
Buenos tardes
,’ she said, smiling at him.

‘
Hola
, Rosie. I am going to the hotel now. I will eat there, so you can join me. We can talk.’

‘How did it go?’

‘Very well. He took the bait. I’ll tell you later.’

Rosie saw him get up and put the mobile into his pocket. He walked out onto the street.

On the terrace of the hotel rooftop restaurant, Javier poured wine for Rosie and Matt. In between polishing off a steak dinner he related the conversation with Vinny.

‘He’s a pervy little
coño
,’ Javier screwed up his face in disgust. ‘I felt like I needed a shower after just talking to him. But I think he’s the kind of bastard who will do anything for money, and that’s good for us.’

‘So he wasn’t suspicious of you?’ Rosie asked.

‘No.’ Javier shook his head. ‘The little shit can only see pound signs. Once I told him how much money I wanted to move on this deal, he would have listened to anything
I told him. I was purely an investor, and he would assume it was dirty money, from drugs or something. It wouldn’t be the first time someone has bought a stash of films from him with dirty money.’

Few people could think on their feet as well as Javier when faced with an ever-changing situation. Rosie was glad she’d got him involved.

‘I told him I wanted to buy a collection of films for distribution in Spain. I said I already had a market and clients, and I asked him about the snuff movies. He became a little bit reticent then, but I mentioned the names of one or two films I’d been asked for by clients and he was impressed enough, or stupid enough, to think that I have connections. I got the titles from some contacts I spoke to before I left. I didn’t want to see this bastard and not be prepared.’

‘I wouldn’t have expected anything less, Javier.’ Rosie raised her glass in salute.

‘So,’ Javier continued. ‘We were talking about making a deal and he was arranging to meet again tomorrow but not here – in a little town called Salé close to the old city of Rabat. That’s where he does the filming. In his place. It’s about two hours drive from here.’ Javier drained his glass and Rosie waved the waiter over and ordered another bottle of wine.

‘Incidentally, I don’t know if you could see from where you were sitting but Vinny was drinking large cognacs. He had three while I was with him. I think he has a problem with alcohol because he looks it to me, plus I think he’d already had a few before I got there. Towards the end he was beginning to run off at the mouth.’

‘Really? Go on.’ Rosie leaned forward.

He looked from Matt to Rosie, lit a cigarette.

‘You’re going to love this.’ He blew the smoke upwards. ‘Come closer, because I must talk very quietly.’

Rosie and Matt pulled their chairs up.

‘He told me he’s making a film the day after tomorrow in Salé with a little kid, and after he sells it, he’ll make so much money that he’ll be able to retire and go to live in Thailand – no doubt where he can buy as many little boys as he wants. Bastard.’

‘Amy? You think he’s talking about Amy?’

Javier nodded. ‘It’s possible. Very possible. Because he did say that when this film came out the whole world would be talking about it.’

‘Jesus, Javier.’

She took one of Javier’s cigarettes and he lit it for her.

‘Obviously I didn’t want to make too much of what he said, but I did ask him what would make this one so special. And you know what he said to me?’ He looked from one to the other. ‘He said because he was going to sell a clip of it to make money. Big money. Was going to sell it to the newspapers, he said.’

‘What did he mean?’

‘That was the point when I asked him if the kid he was talking about was missing,’ Javier said.

‘You asked him that?’

Rosie trusted Javier’s judgment. He wouldn’t have asked that if he thought he’d be rumbled.

‘Yes, Rosie. I asked him that. I can see that this little fucker is stupid and drunk enough to say something he
shouldn’t. And you know what?’ Javier smiled. ‘He did. He was that stupid.’

‘What did he say, Javier?’

Javier drank a mouthful of wine.

‘He told me he was doing this film for somebody else, and that he would be paid a lot of money for it. I asked him again why they would pay him so much for a film of this missing kid and what would they do with it if it was just another film. And he said one word.’ Javier paused for effect. ‘Ransom.’ He looked at both of them. ‘He didn’t elaborate, but my guess is he was going to try to stiff his client by selling the clip himself before they have a chance to do it – maybe sell it to a newspaper or TV channel for big money.’

‘Fuck me, Javier!’ Matt said.

‘Thank you, Matt, but I much prefer your partner.’ Javier grinned.

CHAPTER 33

With the click of the trigger being cocked, Besmir’s eyes popped wide open. The cold metal of the revolver pressed against his temple. He looked up. In the blackness of the bedroom Adrian’s face was lit by the shaft of street light coming through the window. He knew better than to move a muscle. Adrian stared down at him, his face blank. Besmir swallowed, barely breathing.

‘You’ve come to kill me, so kill me, Adrian.’ He stared back. ‘You would be doing me a favour, my friend.’ He could feel sweat stinging his back.

Silence.

‘Tell me, Besmir. Why has Leka sent me to kill you?’

Silence. Besmir looked at the hooded eyes of the big Bosnian. He knew Adrian more by reputation than acquaintance, and he was feared by everyone in the organisation except him. Until now. Because now he had a gun at Besmir’s head, and he knew that if he didn’t tell Adrian what he wanted to know, he had maybe fifteen seconds left. Enough time to consider why Adrian had asked the
question in the first place. Because if he asked it, his intention was not to do Leka’s dirty work, but to find out why.

‘The girl,’ Besmir said, feeling his chest tighten with anxiety. ‘The girl I took for Leka. He is suspicious.’

‘You killed Sergei. Leka sent him to deal with you. So he was right to be suspicious. Why you back in Morocco?’

Besmir felt a trickle of sweat from his hairline run down his forehead. He knew little of Adrian except that he had fought his way out of his besieged Bosnian village after a massacre by Serbian soldiers. And also the legend of how he saved Leka’s life from the men who double crossed him in Spain. In the three months Adrian had been working with Leka’s mob, they’d spoken only once, and briefly, while they both waited outside Leka’s office on business. Besmir had found him quiet, like himself, with a protective wall around him. And like him, he knew Adrian was not to be crossed.

‘You don’t have much time left, Besmir. Tell me.’

Besmir took as deep a breath as he dared.

‘I saw some things. Children. In cages. It changes everything.’ His voice was almost a whisper.

Adrian’s face showed nothing.

‘Go on.’

‘I was taken by someone to a place where they keep stolen children. Small children, three, four, five years old. They keep them in cages. Like animals. Then they use them for porn films and sometimes to kill them. Or they just keep using them over and over again with perverts.’

Silence.

‘Is the kidnap girl there?’

‘No, I don’t think so. Not yet.’

‘So why do you care what happens to the children in cages, or to the British girl? Why all of a sudden you care? You kidnapped her.’

Besmir blinked away the image of his childhood in the iron cots. He thought of Kaltrina and the blue of her eyes.

‘I take the girl and bring her to Tangiers as Leka told me, but something happened to me. I don’t know what. That is the truth, my friend. You can kill me if you do not believe me. The girl … she was frightened. She …’ He paused. ‘She kept leaning, holding on to me. I do not know why. When I gave her to the woman in Tangiers she was crying for me when they took her away. That never happen before to me.’ He looked at Adrian. ‘I am from the orphanage in Tirana. I remember the cots, like cages, and the crying. All the time we are all crying. And the smell.’

‘So?’ Adrian kept the gun firmly at his head. ‘Why did you come back here?’

‘I … I want to free the children from that place. And I want to get the girl. Kal—’ He stopped before he said the name. ‘I want to get the girl and take her back. I did a bad thing.’

‘Is very late to know you did a bad thing, Besmir.’

‘I know this.’ He looked up. ‘But why you are asking me this, Adrian? If you come to kill me, why you care?’

Adrian took the gun from his head, but kept it pointed at him.

‘I am also looking for the girl, the British one. Amy.’

Relief began to flood through Besmir. Adrian wasn’t here to kill him. He too was betraying Leka.

‘Can I sit up, Adrian? Please, take the gun away. If you are not going to kill me, do not point the gun. Let me sit up and we talk.’

Adrian took a step back but kept the gun on him.

‘When you tell me everything, I will not point the gun. But if you do anything stupid, you will be dead. Be sure of that, Besmir.’

Besmir nodded and sat up on the side of the bed. He took the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table and looked at Adrian for approval before he slowly took one out. He lit up and took a deep draw, letting the smoke fill his lungs and his head.

‘I will tell you everything.’ He turned his face upwards to where the Bosnian was still standing over him. ‘But we must be able to trust each other. If we do, we can maybe do something good. For me, is the first time I do something good in my life.’ He put his hand out. Adrian hesitated, then shook it. ‘But how can I be sure I can trust you, Adrian?’

‘You cannot, but you have run out of choices.’ Adrian let go of his hand. ‘Only one thing you can be sure of, Besmir. If you betray me, I will kill you. Do you understand? If you betray me, you are already dead.’

Besmir stood up. ‘I understand.’

‘Talk to me,’ Adrian said.

Besmir placed his half-smoked cigarette on the ashtray, went to the washbasin and turned on the cold tap. He splashed water on his face then dabbed it with a small
towel. He went back across the room and opened the window. He picked up the cigarette and sat on the narrow window sill with his back to the street. He began to tell Adrian about the journey with the girl, and also about the fat man. He told him about the driver, Hassan, who had mentioned about the children in cages. Leka had told him that the girl he kidnapped would be bought by a family, and that he was selling her to the Moroccans as part of a deal because they would be doing more business together with drugs, and she would be sold to a rich couple. Leka had said nothing about other children. It was only when the driver told him of the other children that he wanted to see for himself. He said he couldn’t explain even to himself, but he couldn’t stand the thought of the little girl he stole being trapped inside a cage. So he went with the driver and saw the cages for himself.

‘So that is all what I can tell you, Adrian, of why I am here,’ he said. ‘I want to get the girl and save the other children.’

‘Save them? Like you are the hero?’ Adrian said flatly.

Besmir looked at him, then at the ground.

‘Not like the hero,’ he said. ‘The girl made me think. That is all.’ He looked at Adrian. ‘But why are you really here, Adrian? You didn’t come to kill me, so why?’

Adrian put the gun into his waistband and picked up Besmir’s cigarettes. He took one for himself then threw the packet back on the bedside table. He lit his cigarette, then stood staring past Besmir out of the open window at the morning light beginning to break through.