Carnal Acts (20 page)

Pine trees were the worst, especially when they were close together. The forest was on a slope and Suzana struggled to get past the thick branches, the soles of her trainers slipping on the thick carpet of needles. The branches were obscuring the sun and she was cold, bitterly regretting the loss of her robe, let alone her
provisions. Not that she could have worn the long garment now and stopping wasn’t an option. Her blood was still up after the pain she had meted out to the bastard in the helmet. Close up, she recognised his beady eyes, full of anger and hate, and the single eyebrow. When she’d dropped the rock on him, pain and horror convulsed him. That made her feel good. But the enemy had got very close. She had to be more careful – and always be ready to use the knives on herself rather than fall into their hands.

Suzana stopped to catch her breath, crouching on all fours like a dog. She was as much of an animal as the ones who wanted her – she knew that and it didn’t concern her. She’d been a human being until the first rape. Everything that followed had turned her into a ravening beast, a creature she didn’t understand or even recognise in the cracked mirror when she was in the slave house. But since she’d been free that feeling had begun to recede. She was still far from being a person who could function in a town like Cor-ham – buying the knives had been the limit of her abilities, and she had become a wild creature again when the young men came at her in the park. Could she ever hope to be a woman? She’d been a girl before the horrors started. She had no idea what it would be like to be a grown woman.

‘Su-za-na!’

She tensed when she heard the magnified voice, only realising that her name was being called after the fourth or fifth time. She had almost forgotten it, having had no one to talk to on
first-name
terms for so long. Leka never called her Suzana, he called her whore or bitch.

‘Su-za-na!’

The voice was a woman’s, she understood with a shock. What was a woman doing coming after her?

‘Suzana, my name is Joni.’ The language was Italian, spoken slowly and carefully. ‘Suzana, this is Joni. I’m going to help you.’

Suzana took out the wallet and found the card. Jo-ni Pax – the policewoman who chased her to the old factory.

‘Did you see my card, Suzana? I am Joni Pax from the police. I
will save you from the men who are chasing you. Please, Suzana. You are in very great danger.’

She thought about it while moving further up the slope. The police wanted to save her. If that was true, they were very different from the police in her home country.
They
took bribes and answered to the clans. Could it be so different here? Also, nothing was said about her crimes. She had injured the pigs, maybe even killed the other two in the slave house. She’d also slashed the youths in Cor-ham. The policewoman would save her by putting her in prison, but there would be no safety for her there – or any weapons.

Suzana pushed on through the branches, her face now scratched all over.

‘I am Joni Pax,’ came the voice behind her – she couldn’t tell how far. ‘I can help you, Suzana.’

‘No, you can’t,’ she muttered. ‘Only I can help myself.’

Ignoring the pleading, tempting words in Italian, Suzana Noli pushed herself up the slope and deeper into the mass of trees.

‘What the fuck do we do now?’

‘The same as we’ve been doing all day, Daryll. Keep our heads down.’

‘Aye, but we can’t stay off work for long, Kylie. My old man’s already giving me shit.’

‘Jesus, Pumpkinhead, tell him the Albanians are after you.’

‘He won’t know what Albanians are. Neither do I, except they’re hard bastards.’

‘And what about Hot Rod? We can’t just leave him in the hospital.’

‘Aye, we can, Jackie. He’s safer there than anywhere else. Christ, he was lucky. That blade nearly cut his throat open.’

‘Maybe we should go to the cops.’

‘I’ve already been, Pumpkinhead. Remember?’

‘That was just to report Gaz missing. Maybe they’ll give us protection.’

‘Ha-ha-ha. Protection? They’ll use us as bait, you arsehole.’

‘So what are we going to do?’

‘Sit tight. No one knows we’re here.’

‘Except the locals who saw us climbing in the back window. Anyway, this dump fucking reeks.’

‘Oh, I’m so sorry, your majesty. If I could have, I’d have found us a squat with four bedrooms, a wine cellar and a fucking jacuzzi. Wanker, Jackie.’

‘What are we going to eat?’

‘You’re going to the chippie later.’

‘Aye, right.’

‘Hey, Kylie, do you no’ think we should call in the heavy mob?’

‘Very good, Daryll. I’ve been thinking about that. Like a full-on, balls-out war between the Christies and the Albanians is going to be good for Gaz’s health. Grow a brain, will you? It’s an option for later, but we’ve gotta make more of an effort to find Gaz.’

‘How are we going to do that? Grab another headbanger from the Stars and Bars?’

‘You think that’s funny, Jackie? That’s exactly what we’re going to do.’

‘You’re joking.’

‘Come on, Kylie, man.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Fuck.’

‘What’s happened, Heck?’ Ag cried, running to the door when she saw the state her husband was in. A constable was supporting him and between them they lowered Heck into an armchair in the sitting room.

‘No,’ Heck gasped, shivering. ‘I’m dirty.’

Ag saw the trousers stuck around his calves and the soaked shoes. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, glancing at the officer. ‘What happened?’

‘Better if he tells you, ma’am,’ he said, turning to the door.

‘Thanks,’ Heck said after him, then went into a coughing fit.

‘Are you hurt?’ Ag asked, pulling off his anorak. ‘You look like you’ve been through a hedge backwards.’

‘Forwards, actually,’ her husband replied, smiling weakly.

‘What is it, Mum?’ Kat said, from the door.

Luke pushed past her. ‘Ew, Dad, you’ve been in a bog.’

‘Out, you two,’ Ag ordered, having ascertained that Heck wasn’t at death’s door. ‘Tea’ll be ready in a minute.’

‘I’m hungry too,’ Heck said mildly.

‘Come on, you,’ his wife said, heaving him to his feet, though to be fair, there wasn’t much meat on him these days. ‘Get those trousers off.’

‘Oh aye?’ David was standing in the doorway. ‘Bit early for that, isn’t it?’

He disappeared after Ag turned her eyes on him.

‘What have you been doing, for the love of God?’ she hissed. ‘You’ve only had that suit a few months.’ She went over to the sofa and picked up the blanket he used when he watched TV.

‘Got cold,’ Heck said, sitting down and trying to reach his shoes.

‘I’ll do that.’ Ag put the blanket over his shoulders and undid his laces. ‘These shoes are only fit for gardening now.’

‘I’ll put in a claim.’

‘It’s all a joke to you, isn’t it, you stupid man,’ Ag said, pulling
off his socks. Then she looked up at him. ‘Don’t tell me. You were chasing that girl, weren’t you?’

‘No.’

‘What then?’ Ag shook her head at his skinny legs. When he’d played rugby, they were like columns of wound steel.

‘Confidential,’ he said, clutching the blanket tighter.

‘Don’t give me that, Heck.’

He saw the look in her eyes and decided against that line. ‘All right, if you … if you must know, I caught an armed gangster.’ He laughed. ‘Bloody great tackle, actually. He went down like a—’

‘You caught an armed gangster?’ Ag repeated incredulously. ‘You were in a fight with a criminal?’

‘Em, sort of.’

‘You’re a DCI, Heck. Young lads like the one who brought you home are meant to do the tackling.’

‘He did, actually. He brought another one down.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ Ag went upstairs to get him dry clothes. When she came back, he was leaning back in the chair with his mouth open, snoring gently. She tucked another blanket around his bare legs and kissed him on the forehead.

What an idiot her man was. What a hero.

ACC Dickie walked into the MCU and looked towards Heck’s empty office.

‘DC Andrews, where’s the DCI?’

‘At home, ma’am. He got soaked when he caught an Albanian gangster.’

‘What?’

Eileen Andrews told her everything, surprised that DI Pax hadn’t contacted Mrs Normal. Morrie Simmons and Nathan
Gray were openly eavesdropping, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that.

‘What about the man in the river?’ Ruth Dickie asked.

‘The post-mortem’s tomorrow morning, ma’am. The SOCOs are putting their report together, but they haven’t found anything very useful. The canvass didn’t come up with anything, either.’

‘Where’s DI Pax?’

‘Chasing the Albanian girl from the brothel. She may have been involved in the headless man’s death.’

‘Really?’ said the ACC sceptically. ‘Quite a little killer, stress on the word
little
. What are you smirking about, DI Simmons? Have you anything to tell me about the Burwell Street brothel?’

‘Yes, ma’am. The bills were paid monthly by direct debit from a bank in London. It’s in the name of the Liberian company that owns the place.’

‘Very helpful. And you, DS Gray? How have you been spending your time?’

‘I interviewed Blerim Dost in Durham Prison, ma’am. The Albanian who tried to throttle DI Pax with his…’

‘I know who he is. What did he tell you?’

‘Nothing, ma’am. One of Lennox’s people was there and they both put a zip on it.’

ACC Dickie shook her head. ‘That must have been a lengthy interview, then. What are you doing now?’

Nathan Gray hurriedly moved his computer mouse. ‘I’ve been talking to Newcastle MCU about the Albanians.’

‘Have you? On DCI Rutherford’s instructions, I presume.’

‘Er, no, ma’am.’ Gray looked at Morrie Simmons, but the latter’s face was set in stone. ‘On my own initiative.’

‘Kindly keep it in check. DCI Rutherford alone is responsible for liaison with other MCUs. Understood?’

DS Gray’s cheeks were red. ‘Yes, ma’am,’ he mumbled.

The three detectives watched the ACC’s departure.

‘Thanks a lot, boss,’ Gray said, glaring at Simmons.

Eileen Andrews eventually stopped laughing. ‘I don’t know what came over me, she said.

Joni continued broadcasting though the afternoon as she pushed through the dense foliage. She had ten officers with her in a line, but none had found any trace of Suzana. When they got to the top of the forest, the sun had already sunk behind the hills ahead.

‘What’s up there?’ she asked the constable on her left.

‘Nothing much, ma’am. The odd farm, sheep, some of those wind turbines.’

She called DS Rokeby. He and another constable had gone up the solitary track in her Land Rover. ‘Anything, Pete?’

‘Afraid not. We’ve spoken to the farmers on the way, those that were in. They haven’t seen her, but they’ll keep a look out.’

‘All right. Get as high as you can and survey the terrain.’

‘The light’s going fast.’

‘I know. We’re heading back through the forest now. See you down at the main road.’

One of the officers pointed to a firebreak between the trees and they walked back more easily.

‘Do you think she doubled back on us?’ Joni asked.

‘We’d have heard from the fellas on the road, ma’am.’

She nodded, unconvinced. Suzana was showing unexpected survival skills. Halfway down, her mobile rang. Heck’s home number was on the screen.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘I’m used to Miss,’ Ag said drily.

‘Oh, hello.’ Joni had never felt comfortable addressing her boss’s schoolteacher wife by her first name.

‘Hello, Joni. What on earth has Heck been up to? He told me he caught a gangster.’

‘That’s true.’

‘By rugby tackling him.’

‘So I heard. I wasn’t at the scene then. Is he all right?’

‘Nearly caught his death of cold, but he’s sleeping like a very long baby now. Look, Joni, I know this is probably irregular, but can you try to stop him putting his life on the line? We nearly lost him once and he’s not over the wound, whatever he says. He should stick to his desk.’

‘The DCI does the job his own way, Mrs Rutherford.’

‘Ag.’

‘Em … Ag. I can’t nursemaid him, but I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Good, thanks. Come to lunch on Sunday. 12.30.’ The connection was cut.

Joni put her phone back in her pocket. Lunch would be OK, but she was glad she wasn’t one of Ag Rutherford’s pupils.

Back on the road, waiting for Pete Rokeby, her phone rang again. She groaned.

‘DI Pax, what exactly are you doing?’ Ruth Dickie’s voice was level, but there was the usual steely undertone.

‘Searching for Suzana … for the Albanian woman, ma’am.’

‘It sounds like you haven’t been successful.’

‘Not so far.’

‘It’s dark. Give it up.’

‘We have, ma’am.’

‘As for the man DCI Rutherford apprehended, Richard Lennox has already sent one of his lawyers to look after him. I’ll see you at the morning briefing.’

Again, the call was terminated. What was it with people up here, Joni thought. Weren’t they familiar with the word ‘goodbye’?

She looked round as the familiar sound of her vehicle approached, its headlights making her drop her gaze.

‘You’ve got full beam on, Pete,’ she shouted, as he pulled up.

‘Shit, sorry, ma’am.’ He turned off the lights and engine.

‘Anything?’

‘No sign of her. It’s a wilderness. I wouldn’t fancy spending the night up there without a tent and sleeping bag.’

Joni remembered something that one of the constables had mentioned. ‘Those people who were picking kale – whatever that is – did they talk to Suzana?’

‘Apparently not. She walked straight past them.’

‘Talk to the officers we left down here. She may have doubled back.’

Joni watched him go into the gloom and shivered, thinking of Suzana.

Suzana had come out of the forest and was looking at the
grass-covered
slopes ahead. They didn’t inspire awe in her; these weren’t the savage peaks of her home country. She ran on, into the last of the sun. There was a line of monstrous metal columns on the ridge, a blur at the top of each one. She had no idea what they were so she excluded them from her thoughts. Her feet were aching, but the carpet of needles beneath the trees had been much better than the hard roads.

What was she to do now? She could wait for full darkness and head back through the forest, starting at least three kilometres away from where she’d ascended, or she could press on across the upper ground. She stopped by a stream and cupped water to her mouth with her hand. Thirst wouldn’t be a problem, but hunger was already attacking her. She looked around. There were no buildings in sight, but below the saddle between two hills was a cluster of white dots. She knew immediately what they were.

Her good grandfather had sometimes taken her with him to the high pasture in the summer. Her parents didn’t approve, but
the old man had seniority and they had to obey him. They set off before sunrise and reached the plateau by midday. Her grandfather’s dogs accepted her presence, though they wouldn’t allow her to stroke them. She didn’t mind. She had a twisted crook in her hand and the smell of grass and herbs was on the cooling wind. After an hour she was gasping for breath. Her grandfather told her to keep going and eventually she found that breathing came more easily and the ache in her thighs passed.

‘Wait,’ the old man said, touching her bare forearm. His eyes were still good and they had caught movement in the trees behind the flock of long-tailed, shorn sheep.

‘What is it?’ she whispered.

‘The Popi,’ he answered, spitting. ‘Those brigands always take what they want.’ He unslung his rifle and shifted the bolt.

‘The Popi are dangerous,’ Suzana said, spouting the words she’d often heard from her parents. ‘We don’t get involved with them.’

‘The Popi are louts,’ her grandfather said. ‘They’re too lazy to tend to animals, so they steal. I’ve had enough of them.’

She followed the direction of his gaze. ‘Grandpa, there are three men. They’re young.’

‘I don’t care.’ The old man looked down the rifle and fired.

She saw a man fall back, his arms outspread. The others looked in their direction, ducking when Grandpa loosed off another four shots. He changed magazines. By the time he raised the weapon again, the survivors had disappeared into the trees.

After waiting a while, the old man got up. ‘Come, girl. Not only are they thieves, but they’re cowards.’

They crossed the meadow, the animals having run off as soon as the first shot echoed out.

‘See?’ Grandpa said, pointing at a sheep carcass, the rear legs cut off close to the spine and the belly open. ‘This is what the dishonourable scum do.’ He turned to the man lying a few metres away. The top of his head had been taken off by the bullet. ‘And this is what they get.’

Suzana trembled as the old man knelt by the sheep, knife in hand. He hacked away and held out a bloody mass to her.

‘Here, the liver. It gives great strength if you eat it raw.’

Although she hadn’t thought she could, she swallowed it all, blood covering her face. And Grandpa was right. For the rest of the day she ran around ceaselessly as he checked the other animals. She wasn’t even tired when they got back to the village. The family ate the meat the old man had butchered. The next day he was stabbed in the throat as he walked down the street and the Popi came for the rest of them. She didn’t know what was said and only much later did she understand. Her father was forced to give up his children. The Popi waited until the time was right and took her, passing her on to the men of the larger Spahia clan. They’d have come for her sister by now too. And maybe they’d killed her parents just for the sake of it.

It took her some time, but Suzana caught a sheep shortly before the last light died. She knew her way around a carcass and soon satisfied her hunger. Out of necessity she had become a thief like the Popi. She retreated – for all she knew, the shepherds here came every morning to check on their charges – and curled up in a hollow by a stream. The blood on her face had dried and she didn’t bother to wash it off. Besides, there would be blood all over her clothes, even though she slept with the skin she’d removed with the fleece facing inwards.

In her dreams she was slashing at the men who killed Grandpa. When she woke up in the chill grey of dawn, she thought she might be in luck. Maybe the Popi, who specialised in retribution, were on her trail now and she’d be able to avenge the old man’s murder. Before she put a blade to her own throat.