went to Pakistan and started a Coke boycott? Thing is, doing stuff like that, he ain’t gonna be breathing for much longer. I gotta be quick. I’ve been trying to track him down in Bosnia, but it would be easier to arrange tea with Karadic. In Baghdad he won’t have so many gatekeepers.’ He gripped my arm. ‘One last job, Nick, that’s all I want to do. Renee’s dead set against it, but it’s not a frontline shot. The picture of Chairman Mao was taken on a beach. Nuhanovic on the banks of the Tigris. No problem, no danger. A walk in the park.’
I wanted to tell him that I knew he was talking bollocks to sell the idea. But I was interested in Nuhanovic. There are some things you don’t forget, no matter how often you try to cut away, and watching him front up to Mladic at the cement works was one of them. ‘So what did this guy get up to in Bosnia?’
‘Some of the stories are just, like, amazing. I heard that he managed to stop a massacre some place north of Sarajevo. He actually confronted Mladic. No one seems to know what he said, but it seemed to get Mladic spooked. He let a whole bunch of prisoners go free.’
‘What’s happened with Mladic?’ I tried not to sound too interested in the Muslim. ‘They ever capture him? I’ve lost track of what’s going on over there.’
‘Nope, he’s still out there. Last I heard he was maybe holed up in a monastery in Montenegro. It’s only a rumour, but I heard that the Brits were just this far away –’ he showed me the minutest of gaps between his thumb and his forefinger ‘– from killing him during the war. That would have been kinda neat, eh? But get this – the International Court was about to be set up in The Hague, and they needed some high-profile players to put in the dock. That way everyone could feel that justice was being done after the war. Everybody would be happy – apart from the Bosnian Muslims, of course.’
I thought about Zina. I’d never forget the look on her face as she posed for me, just fifteen and daring to dream for a microsecond of being Kate Moss. Then I thought about her and thousands like her getting killed so justice could be seen to be done. Well, it wasn’t my kind of justice, but this wasn’t the time or the place . . . Fuck it, so what? That was over ten years ago. It’s all history now.
We stopped by the news-stand outside the Metro. ‘Good luck, mate. I hope you get to take your photograph, and when there’s world peace I’ll be blaming you for it.’ I put my hand out to shake his.
He hesitated. ‘You know what? Why don’t you come with me?’ He did his best to make me think the idea had only just occurred to him.
‘No, mate. I don’t do that sort of—’
‘Ah, come on. We’ll be there for a week at the most.’
I put my hand out again and this time he took it. ‘I’ve got to go, mate. I hope it all works out for you.’
‘I could do with a white guy out there, Nick.’ He looked me straight in the eye, and held my hand in both of his. ‘Think about it. Promise me that much. I’m going to London Saturday, got a deal going with the
He finally let go of my hand and pulled out his business card and a pen. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Nick, I’m offering you a job. How does ten per cent plus expenses sound to you?’
I didn’t want his money. I didn’t need anyone’s money. It wasn’t as if I had any more school fees to pay.
He gave me the pen and a second card and I wrote down my mobile number.
‘Listen,’ I passed the pen and card back, ‘here’s my number, but only so we can have another beer when you get back.’ I turned to go into the subway, fishing in my pocket for some coins to buy a token.
He called after me, ‘Think about it?’
I gave him a wave as I went through the barrier.
18
The Metro rolled smoothly beneath Washington with me and twenty-odd other people in the carriage. It sounded like Beardilocks had come a long way since the concrete factory. He’d moved on, but had I? Zina and the other poor fuckers who’d been dropped by Mladic’s crew hadn’t, that was for sure.
I’d never admitted this to Ezra, but I still felt guilty when I thought about that day. What if I’d called in the fast jets earlier? Maybe Sarajevo had only made the decision not to attack a minute or two before I eventually pressed the button. Maybe if I hadn’t delayed the Paveway would have been dropped. Some of the Muslims would have got killed, but more would have survived. Zina might have been one of them.
Fuck it, as I kept telling Ezra, it was all history. And talking of history, Beardilocks might be spreading the good news for now, but he’d soon be dead as well. Look what happened to Gandhi. I hoped Jerry got the shot: it might be the last one anyone took of him.
I got off at Georgetown and took the escalator to the heart of Fortress America. There seemed to be barriers and policemen whichever way you turned. The Brit shop near the mall was normally five minutes’ walk, but today it took at least ten. I stocked up on Yorkshire tea, a couple of party-size jars of Branston, bread and the last four bricks of Cracker Barrel Cheddar, then headed straight back to the station.
I got out at Crystal City. The sinking feeling was back in the pit of my stomach. I knew what the rest of the day held, and the next. Long hours in front of the TV, cuddling a jar of Branston and a mug of monkey, working out when I was actually going to buy the bike and when to get on the thing and fuck off. George was going to let me use the apartment, but only until he had the wrong yoghurt for breakfast and decided to chuck me out. I needed to go soon.
My cell rang. Only three people knew the number, and I wasn’t expecting a call from any of them. I put down the carrier and flapped about in my jacket pocket to drag it out and check the screen: number withheld.
It might be George, changing his mind and telling me to get out of the building. Maybe Ezra wanted to change our next appointment. That would be an interesting call. No, he’d have been told by now that I’d binned George and, in turn, him. So maybe he was checking that I hadn’t swallowed the pharmacy and wasn’t about to jump off the Arlington Memorial Bridge. I just hoped it wasn’t Jerry.
‘Nick?’ It was a woman’s voice.
‘Yes?’
‘It’s Renee. Jerry’s wife?’
This was much worse. ‘Hi – how have you been since an hour ago?’
She laughed slightly awkwardly, then went serious on me. ‘Jerry doesn’t know I’m calling. He’s painting the kitchen. Can we meet? I need to talk.’
‘What about?’
‘I’ll tell you when I see you. I’m going to Costco now, at Crystal City. You know where it is?’
I could virtually spit at it from my apartment. ‘No, but I’ll take the Metro.’
She gave me directions from the station but I wasn’t listening. The only thing I was thinking about was that I’d said yes without realizing it. ‘It’ll take me about forty minutes to get down there. So meet in an hour? I’ll wait outside for you. It’s really important to me.’
‘OK.’
‘Thank you, Nick. Thank you . . .’
I put the cell back in my pocket, and headed for the flat. What the fuck was that all about? I supposed I’d find out soon enough.
I got to Costco early and sat on a bench outside the entrance by the vending machines. The Pentagon was walking distance away, so the whole place was crawling with people in freshly starched and pressed camouflage BDUs, grocery basket in hand instead of an M16. It felt like the world’s biggest Naafi.
I hadn’t seen her arrive, but about twenty-five minutes later Renee was walking towards me. Chloe was slumped in a front-loading harness, surrounded by her mum’s hairy nylon coat.
I stood up. ‘Hello.’
‘No problems getting here?’
‘None at all.’
Chloe was sound asleep, her head to one side and dribbling. Weren’t babies’ heads supposed to be supported? Fuck, what was happening to me? I was turning into a German grandmother.
