The Zombie Room (12 page)

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Authors: R. D. Ronald

BOOK: The Zombie Room
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The large car park in front of ValueNet was mostly empty, but Decker drove around and pulled up near the delivery entrance at the back. The building was vast and constructed of orange brickwork with corrugated sheet cladding. The majority of orders were received online and shipped out in a procession of ValueNet vans, half a dozen of which were parked in front of the warehouse entrance, being loaded up by staff. Decker and Mangle walked briskly past them, looking for either the electric supply or someone in authority.

‘Can I help you?’ a burly man with stooped shoulders and a patchy beard said as he hurried across to them. He introduced himself as the manager.

‘Yes, we’re from G&E Utilities,’ Mangle said, and went through their regular routine.

‘This really isn’t a good time.’ The manager shook his head and smiled through his distress.

‘We’ll be as quick as possible and then be right out of your hair,’ Mangle beamed at him.

A quick glance at his watch, and the manager ushered them across the delivery dock to a corner of the warehouse.

‘We’ll be very busy here soon, could you hurry this along?’ the manager asked, switching his ample weight from one foot to the other in the manner of a child who needs to urinate.

Mangle patted the nervous manager on the shoulder and regaled a reassuring platitude as Decker went about his business. A murmur of concern from Decker a moment later was all it
took to accelerate the manager’s heart rate further, then Decker threw the switch that plunged the entire place into darkness.

‘I’m sorry, but I’ve had to remove your supply,’ Decker said, stepping back into the warehouse carrying the disconnected meter under his arm. ‘It looks like there’s been tampering.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ the manager said, with a look of surprise.

‘We’ll have to call out a team right away to check on this. They’ll need to determine exactly how underpaid G&E has been and have the account reimbursed before power can be restored.’

‘No, we can’t shut down business. The place will lose a fortune,’ the manager stammered, realising the other ramifications. ‘You have a team coming here?’

‘Yes, some engineers will come and diagnose what has happened. They may be here for several days,’ Mangle confirmed, as he scribbled notes onto his clipboard.

The manager took a step back and struggled to come to terms with what had been said. His brain was freewheeling as he searched for any way out of the mess, like a mouse in the grasp of a cat.

‘There must be some other solution we can come to here,’ he said with a pleading smile.

‘Well, we could have the meter analysed back at the department, but the data may not be as accurate as an investigation conducted on site.’

‘That’s OK, do that,’ the manager stammered as he grasped the lifeline.

‘You do realise that this will lead to an updated bill that could be in excess of the actual power consumption?’

‘That’s fine, I’m sure you’ll do the best you can,’ the manager said, a vague hope beginning to take root within him. ‘So there will be no team called out now? And how long until power is restored?’

‘It shouldn’t take long at all, provided the account is cleared right away. I’ll courier the bill to you as soon as possible.’

 

*****

 

‘And that was it?’ Tazeem asked when they arrived at the lockup. ‘No phone calls to check on you or anything?’

‘Nope, the guy was so horrified that he would probably have stripped naked and run around the car park singing Abba songs if we’d told him it would get the supply reconnected.’

Tazeem laughed and sat back in his chair. He pushed a piece of paper and a pen across the desk towards Mangle. ‘How much do you think we should charge him?’

Mangle looked at Tazeem and then at Decker.

‘It’s a big place,’ Decker said with a shrug.

‘It is,’ Mangle nodded, and wrote down a figure on the sheet and pushed it back over to Tazeem.

‘I like the way you think,’ Tazeem nodded at the number Mangle had written. ‘But let’s think a little bigger,’ he said, and added a zero.

 

 

 

8

 

 

 

 

Tatiana could no longer feel the pain in her bruised face as the boat chugged calmly into the docks. She had seen the other women yelling at her to be quiet as she wailed for help at the sight of her dead friend. Finally the men came and beat her unconscious, but no one was released from the hold. When she awoke, she was still chained and pressed up against Natalia’s cold, vacant-eyed corpse.

Once the boat had been moored, the shipmates opened up the hold, unlocked their chains and filed them out. Natalia’s body was left soaking in the pool of filth as the other girls were led up the stairs, across the gangway and onto the dock. It was dark outside but the moon provided enough light that Tatiana could see the white-haired man, now wearing a bright blue cravat and a Panama hat, standing watching from a short distance away. Beside him were two Asian men with their hands in their pockets, and another who looked oriental. The captain had already gone ashore and stood nearby, but looked uneasy.

The oriental man came across to the girls and gave them a quick once-over, pausing for a second at the sight of bruising on Tatiana’s face, then signalled for them to be loaded into a waiting
van. After a headcount the white-haired man grabbed the captain’s arm. Tatiana was the last to take her seat and looked back at the scene outside. The captain looked concerned, yet defiant, as the white-haired man talked sternly to him. She caught only snatches of what they said as the exchange was animated, and both men were moving as they spoke. ‘This is the last time,’ said the white-haired man. The captain was protesting his innocence, but it appeared to fall on deaf ears.

One of the Asians seemed amused by the exchange. He walked up to the captain and gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, his fingers glittering from a flamboyant adornment of diamonds. The white-haired man looked anything but amused, and asked the oriental man something about a clinic. He shook his head, and all three men walked out of her line of sight.

Tatiana faced forward. None of the other girls were talking. They seemed acceptant of whatever fate awaited them. Whatever it was to be, Tatiana thought, surely the worst must now be behind them.

 

Mangle walked into the Bear and Crown and ordered a beer. As the barmaid proudly began to recite the available list, Mangle waved a hand indicating that any would do. She returned somewhat sullenly a moment later with his glass, and he gave her a handful of coins. After a brief glance around the bar he saw Decker occupying the same spot they’d sat in previously, and he carried his dripping glass over.

‘We’ll have to stop meeting like this, people will talk,’ Decker said, as Mangle put down his glass.

‘Very funny. Even if I was that way inclined I’d be way out of your league.’

Decker laughed and took a drink from his own glass.

‘Did you manage to arrange a new flat to move into yet?’ Mangle asked.

‘I found one that’s suitable, but when I move in I want to do it with a clean slate, you know?’

Mangle nodded as if this was something that had been bothering him as well. ‘It was a good job this morning and we’ve had a good run,’ he confirmed, ‘but maybe it’s best not to test our luck.’

‘The knocks are still coming on my mother’s door from Brian and that lot. My reason for not getting mixed up with them was to avoid the inevitable prison sentence that would come from the association. Now we’ve got some money behind us it would be stupid to risk everything for the sake of greed,’ Decker said, looking thoughtfully into his glass.

‘Are you going to pack it all in and just keep working at the shop for Latif?’

‘That’s what I’ve been thinking. You reckon Tazeem will be pissed?’

Mangle shrugged solemnly. ‘We should probably talk to him and find out.’

 

Tazeem arrived early for Friday prayers and met Latif just inside as he was removing his shoes.

‘Latif, how are Derek and Nick working out at the shop?’ he asked, crouching to unloosen his laces.

‘Hello, Tazeem. Very well, actually. Nick is working on the desk with customers and Derek is helping out in the stockroom. They are both very diligent, thanks for recommending them.’

‘Well hello there, cuz.’ Tazeem looked over his shoulder to see Ermina walking towards them.

‘What are you doing here?’ he asked her.

‘I got a lift down with Sadiq and some of his friends; he’s parking the car outside. Don’t worry, I’m not staying, just thought I’d pop in and see if you were here so I could say hello.’

‘What friends?’ Tazeem asked, but before she could answer Sadiq entered with a group of men.

‘I’ll see you later, Tazeem,’ Ermina said, and turned to leave.

As she sauntered by Sadiq he reached down and gave her a slap on the ass which roused a chorus of laughter from his friends. Ermina tossed a playfully disapproving look over her shoulder.
Catching Tazeem’s glare from across the room Sadiq began to walk over, but Tazeem and Latif quickly moved on to the ablutions and from there straight into the hall.

They found two free prayer mat spots and took their places. Sadiq and the others were last into the hall and first out again following the prayers. Tazeem and Latif intentionally dallied in the hall, hoping to give them enough time to leave so they wouldn’t be subjected to another instalment of how successful Sadiq had recently become. His boastings had been tolerable when the claims were fairly baseless, but now that he had actual achievements behind him he had become even more insufferable.

Thinking they had waited long enough, Tazeem and Latif finally made their way back through to the entrance hall and collected their shoes. It was a sunny day and some clusters of men remained talking outside as they left.

‘Hello boys.’ Tazeem and Latif turned and saw Sadiq beaming at them from just to the right of the main doorway. ‘And how is business going for you two?’

‘I can’t complain,’ Latif said, flatly.

‘And you, Tazeem?’ he said, turning a shark-like grin in his direction.

‘I’m doing alright.’

‘That’s interesting, your cousin said you may have been struggling a little lately since you got out of prison. No need to be proud, my friend, I’m always willing to extend a hand of support to a less fortunate brother.’

‘Very noble of you, Sadiq, but you can save your help for someone who needs it,’ Tazeem said, taking all of his effort not to spit the words back at him.

‘Very well,’ Sadiq said with a mirthless smile. ‘My organisation is expanding very quickly, I’m sure there will be further opportunities for you to come on board.’

 

Tazeem was understanding when Mangle and Decker sat down with him the following week.

‘To be honest I didn’t expect you both to hang around this long,’ he said, to ease any guilt they may have felt about leaving him in the lurch. ‘I have got one last job lined up, though. How about that, then we divide up the proceeds?’

Mangle looked over at Decker and shrugged his shoulders.

‘It’s OK with me,’ Decker said.

‘Alright, I’m in,’ Mangle confirmed.

 

It was arranged for Thursday morning. They arrived early, were briefed by Tazeem and drove to the location he’d given them, a warehouse in Bluebell Industrial Estate that he’d heard was receiving shipments of stolen goods from offshore. Same type of set-up they’d been to numerous times before: go in, kill the power, threaten an immediate investigation, then they bend over backwards to pay the bill.

Decker drove the car through a maze of mostly unused units as Mangle read out directions from a sheet on his clipboard. He turned right and pulled up outside number 18 near a white Mercedes van with the logo of a frozen food supplier on the side. It was the only vehicle on the site.

The concrete approach around the building was cracked and patches of grass and other weeds clumped where grateful seeds had been given the opportunity to grow. Mangle walked ahead while Decker fetched his toolkit. Nearing the building he became aware of raised voices inside and stopped, waiting for Decker to catch up.

‘What’s going on?’ Decker asked as he stopped beside Mangle.

‘I don’t know. It sounds like someone’s pretty pissed off though.’

‘You heard anything they said?’

‘No they aren’t speaking English.’

The sound of a large metal bolt being thrown was followed by the steel door from the warehouse being flung open. An enraged Asian man strode out, then became aware of Decker and Mangle standing in front of him. For a moment they all stood unmoving and silent before the man regained some of his wits.

‘Spahee! Spahee!’ he cried, wild-eyed, and took off running across the deserted site and through the treeline beyond.

Decker and Mangle looked from the disappearing figure back at each other, unsure whether or not they also should beat a hasty retreat. A large white man with a shaven head was joined at the door by two more Asians. He had ragged scar tissue on the left side of his face and neck that was shiny like plastic. The man quickly glanced around outside, noted the presence of only one other vehicle, and demanded to know what they wanted.

‘Ahh … hello. We’re from G&E Utilities,’ Mangle said, gathering himself and slipping into their rehearsed routine.

‘Whatever you are selling we don’t want,’ the man growled at him in heavily accented English.

‘We are from the electric company,’ Mangle explained again, speaking slower and more deliberately. ‘We must come and inspect your supply. For safety, it is required by law.’

‘No,’ the man said, screwing up the left-hand side of his face in a grimace that made his scars crinkle like cellophane. He began to close the door; the two other Asians had already vanished inside.

‘If you do not allow me to inspect the meter I will have to return with the police.’

This had the desired effect and the heavily set man paused while pulling closed the steel door. Again his eyes drifted around the car park, before coming to rest on Mangle.

‘You are electric company man,’ he said, as if what he’d first been told had only just begun to resonate.

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