To Tell the Truth (27 page)

‘My sister,’ he said. ‘My sister has been kidnapped by Leka and his mob.’

‘Your sister! She is a child?’

‘No.’ Adrian shook his head. ‘She is seventeen. She come from Sarajevo to Malaga for work. She and her friend were promised jobs, but they are kidnapped. Her friend escape but my sister is not. I cannot find her, but I know she is in Costa del Sol. Marbella maybe.’ He sighed. ‘You know what happens with the girls. They go to the whorehouses. They are drugged. You know, because sometimes you must drive them.’

Besmir saw that Adrian could barely control his anger. He felt edgy, and stood up, walking past him to the bedside chair, where he picked up his shirt and pulled it on over his vest.

‘Not for a long time, Adrian,’ he said. ‘I haven’t driven any girls for a long time.’

‘But you know where they go. Don’t you?’

‘I have taken them only to a house in the country or to some of the clubs. But I am only driving them, I never see them. I don’t talk to them or know where they come from. When was your sister taken?’

‘Three months ago. That is why I come to Spain. That is why I work with Leka’s mob. I come to find her. Find her from the inside.’

Besmir had to admire his guts.

‘You came here and hooked in with Leka, just to find your sister? You are a brave man.’

Adrian shrugged. ‘I must find my sister. I
will
find her.’

‘So why you want to know about the girl? The one I took to Tangiers.’

Silence. Adrian went across and closed the window. He turned to Besmir.

‘I am also helping my friend. She is a journalist. British. She has information about what can maybe happen to the girl Amy if we don’t find her. And she is helping me find my sister. Come. We go and drink coffee. I will tell you.’

Besmir stuffed his cigarettes into his pocket and followed Adrian out of the door. He had no idea where he was going or what would happen next. But he knew that now Adrian had tracked him down, he had indeed run out of choices.

In the pavement cafe, Besmir listened as Adrian told him what had happened to his sister and how the journalist had promised to help him find her by highlighting the story in her newspaper because of the connection with the British politician. He knew he could get up and walk away now because Adrian wouldn’t risk shooting him in the middle of a busy street. But if he did that, Adrian would hunt him down.

He looked at the big man and wondered if he could take him out if it came down to that. The deciding factor would be about who had the most to lose – and it wasn’t him. There was nobody waiting for him, nobody depending on him, hoping he would come through for them. An image of Kaltrina flashed through his mind, of the moment when he’d opened the boot of his car in
Tangiers and saw the wide-eyed hopeful look on her face. She wasn’t waiting for him. But he knew that with the help of Hassan, they could get her back.

‘You see, Adrian,’ Besmir said, ‘I have a plan. I told you about the driver. He knows from inside what is going on and will find out what the plan is with the girl. I know I can get her back, do the things I told you I want to do – set the children in the cages free. But with someone else involved, it is more difficult.’ He sipped his coffee. ‘And now you tell me you have this journalist, this newspaper woman, too. Is dangerous with more people in this. You know that?’

‘Of course I do. Do not worry about the journalist. I can manage that. She knows danger and she will not do anything stupid.’

Besmir could not dictate terms. It would have to be Adrian’s way. His mobile rang and he took it out of his pocket. It was Hassan. He listened, conscious that Adrian was watching him. Then he hung up and put the phone on the table.

‘It was my friend, the driver. Hassan. He has news.’

Adrian’s expression didn’t change.

‘Tell me.’

‘They are taking the girl tomorrow to another place. Hassan is driving the car, with the fat man I tell you about. They are taking her to some place called Salé. Hassan says it is near Rabat. He said it is where the children are sometimes taken, but he has never driven them there before. He is calling me later and we will plan things.’

Adrian sat forward. ‘Listen, Besmir, I think I know what they are doing. I have been working with the journalist and there is a man in Salé, a British paedophile. She is investigating him. This man is called Vinny. I saw him last night. He makes films of adults having sex with children. Also, he makes films where children are killed. I think they are taking the girl there.’

Besmir’s stomach turned over. He had made this happen.

‘Your face is white, Besmir. You are going to be sick?’

Besmir tried to compose himself. ‘I am fine.’

‘You should not be shocked, Besmir. What did you think was going to happen to the little girl when you took her? Are you stupid? You have worked for these people for over a year.’

Besmir felt anger rising. Not long ago, he would have kicked the table over and grabbed Adrian by the throat for challenging him like this. Not long ago, it was just another job to him. The fact that he was told by Leka to steal a kid had surprised him, but not enough for him refuse to do it. But whoever he was when he took the little girl from the beach, isn’t who he was now.

‘Fuck you, Adrian. You are now like the priest who tells people how to live? You think I don’t know I was stupid?’

Adrian shook his head. ‘That is your problem. But now you know what happens when you kidnap a human being. Their life is over. You should have thought about that. Like my sister. If I don’t find my sister, her life is over. And the life of my mother back in Sarajevo.’

Besmir said nothing and looked away. He did not want
to push the Bosnian for fear of what he might unleash.

After a moment, he looked Adrian in the eye, and spoke calmly.

‘So. We can do two things, my friend. I can sit here and listen to you telling me I am a bastard. Or we can make a plan. It is up to you.’

‘We make the plan.’

CHAPTER 34

‘I feel really sick.’ Rosie pulled down the sun visor and glanced in the vanity mirror at Matt in the back seat.

‘I’m not too clever myself,’ Matt said. ‘Fucking potholes.’

Adrian kept his eyes on the road as he tried to negotiate the car around the huge craters in the dirt track road.

‘Is not really a road,’ he said, steering away from another pothole. ‘Is just tracks made from other cars. It is very bad.’

‘Christ!’ Rosie took a sip from her bottle of mineral water, now lukewarm in the midday sun. ‘What kind of shithole is this? Bet it doesn’t tell you this in the holiday brochure.’

‘I don’t think you’ll find Salé in the holiday brochure, Rosie,’ Matt said. ‘What a dump.’

Rosie rolled up her window. Sweat broke out on her back and she could feel rising anxiety. The last thing she needed was a panic attack in the middle of this. She tried to take deep breaths without anyone noticing, but she was aware of Adrian stealing a glance at her.

‘Is okay, Rosie. We will find the place soon.’

It wasn’t the roads and the heat that were troubling Rosie. She felt threatened by the sheer teeming masses in the streets of this ugly ghetto they’d driven into. A few short miles from the charming, ancient city of Rabat, they’d driven into a different world. Salé was a giant slum and looked like someone had emptied half of Morocco into the streets and left them wandering around like refugees. There were few cars, and the streets were littered with piles of rubbish. The occasional rundown cafe was the only sign that there was any life going on. In their hired car they looked like tourists who’d taken a wrong turn. Rosie felt like prey caught in a trap. This really was the kind of place where you could disappear and nobody would ever find you. Looking at Adrian, she told herself to get a grip, and felt a little safer when he waved away the beggars shoving their faces into the car window and holding out their hands.

‘No wonder this Vinny bastard makes his sick films in a place like this,’ Rosie said, as they turned away from the crowds and up a side street.

‘Look.’ Matt pointed out a couple of ramshackle buildings that had brand logos of UK High Street stores on their crumbling shopfronts. Security cameras were perched on the high walls and there was razor wire on the huge iron gates.

‘This must be where the sweatshops are for the big guns back in the UK. If they had nothing to hide, they wouldn’t put them in this sewer of a place. It must be one of these slave labour factories, punters getting paid pennies. Fucking shameful.’

‘We are here,’ Adrian said. ‘This is the street you said, Rosie. I stop here.’

Rosie checked the address in her notebook and looked out of the windscreen along the length of the narrow road.

‘I see Javier’s hired car. Let’s crawl up here until we get closer to the house number, forty-four, Javier said.’

They drove slowly along the street, deserted but for Javier’s car.

‘Just pull in here, Adrian, would you.’

It had been a hurried plan, concocted between them last night. When Adrian came back to the hotel, he’d told them about his meeting with Besmir and that Amy was being taken down to Salé today. Rosie knew she should be telling the police, but involving them would open up a whole different game. It was too late to do that, even if she’d wanted to.

Javier had already arranged to meet Vinny to see the collection of films he had for distribution. Vinny told him he had to be out of the house by lunchtime as he was was expecting a visitor to his studio.

Matt had rigged Javier up with a hidden camera in the pocket flap of his safari shirt, and he was wired up with a tape recorder strapped to his body. If they got nothing else, Rosie decided, then at least they’d have a spread with this murdering sicko inside his porn den. If all they achieved was to get Vinny arrested and jailed, it was a job worth doing.

It had been Adrian who suggested they go there to see for themselves. He told Rosie to trust him, not to interfere
with anything he would do – which was part of the reason she was anxious. Adrian didn’t play by anyone’s rules, and if something went wrong, nobody knew where they were.

Rosie’s mobile rang and she took it out of her bag. Surprised, she showed the screen to Adrian. It was Javier. The arrangement had been that he would send a brief text if all was well. Maybe he changed his mind. She put the phone to her ear.

‘Hello, my darling,’ Javier breezed.

There had to be a reason for this. They were close, but not this close.

‘Hello, darling.’ Rosie played along in case someone was listening.

‘Listen, darling, I cannot make lunch with you today, as I am in a very important business meeting.’

‘Oh,’ Rosie said. ‘Is it going well for you? When will you be finished, Javier?’

‘It’s going very well. Everything I’d hoped for, but I can’t discuss it. I’ll be finished here soon, but I’m a long way from Tangiers. So I will call you when I get back there later this evening.’

‘Fine. See you tonight. Glad it’s going well.’ The line went dead.

‘He’s talking like in code,’ Rosie said. ‘Hello, darling, and all that. Looks like it’s going well, and he’ll be out of there shortly.’

‘Good. What now?’ Matt said.

‘Rosie,’ Adrian said. ‘I want you to leave the next part to me.’ He turned to her. ‘You must trust me.’

Rosie glanced at Matt who made an in-for-a-penny kind of face.

‘Your shout, Rosie.’

Rosie sighed.

‘What’s not to trust, Adrian?’

He switched on the engine and moved the car along the road so that it was in front of Javier’s. They sat in silence while Adrian rolled down the window and lit a cigarette. Rosie would have liked to smoke, but her bowels were churning as it was. A rush of nicotine was the last thing she needed.

After a few puffs, Adrian flicked the cigarette away and got out of the car. He went to the boot and took out his jacket. Rosie could see in the wing mirror that as he put on the jacket he was feeling something in the inside pocket, and she guessed it wasn’t his wallet. She watched as he disappeared down a path and she could no longer see him, or the door of the building.

‘I don’t know about you, Rosie, but I’m shitting myself,’ Matt said.

‘Yeah, well that’s one way of putting it.’

‘What do you think he’s up to?’

‘Christ knows. But unless there’s some heavy duty bouncers in there, I don’t think wee Vinny will give Adrian a lot of trouble.’

‘Does Javier carry a gun?’

‘I don’t know, Matt. I don’t ask. I don’t want to know.’

They sat in tense silence.

‘I wonder what they’re doing back at the office,’ Matt chuckled.

Rosie looked at her watch. ‘Lunchtime. There’ll be the usual banter around the table in the canteen.’

‘Aye. But they’ll not be having this much fun.’

Rosie wiped the sweat from the back of her neck.

Silence. She pulled down the visor as a car crawled past them and the Moroccan occupants took a long look at them.

‘What do you reckon the big man’s going to do, Rosie? I reckon—’

‘Ssssh, Matt.’ Rosie heard muffled voices. ‘I hear something.’

‘Oh fuck!’ Matt said as, suddenly, Javier emerged, rushing up the path towards them, carrying a holdall.

He opened the driver’s door and threw himself in, breathless.

‘Fucking hell, Rosie! Fuck me! The Bosnian. He’s fucking crazy.’ He switched on the engine.

‘What’s happening, Javier? What happened?’

Javier gave a nervous laugh. ‘Oh shit!’ He looked at Rosie. ‘I’m just about to come out of the house, and this Vinny
coño
is seeing me to the door. And when he opens it, the big fucking Bosnian comes bursting in. Fuck! He pushed passed me and I almost fell on my ass. Then he grabs Vinny by the throat and holds the
coño
till he’s turning blue. The guy is nuts.’

That’s good coming from you, who pushed a guy off a roof, Rosie thought. But now wasn’t the time for sarcastic jokes.

He opened the holdall.

‘Christ, Javier. You took his films?’

Javier smiled. ‘I just grabbed as much as I could while Adrian was choking him.’