twisted her around and pushed her through the entrance. Fuck that. Playtime was over. I ran towards them. He still had his back to me as I crossed the threshold. He was totally focused on the prize. She stood to my right by a small table and a couple of plastic chairs. Her hand reached into her handbag as he advanced on her.
I barged into the room.
I grabbed his shoulder, spun him round and swung my open palm across his face. The sound of the blow was as loud as his scream.
He crumpled, both hands on his cheeks. I pushed him down onto his arse on the dark blue carpet with my boot. He looked up, wide-eyed with shock. A good slap can be far more effective than a punch. It takes you straight back to your childhood, to the time your dad let you know who was top dog. Most kids don’t step up to the plate and risk any more. They withdraw, feel sorry for themselves. They take the pain and never want it to happen again. That was the way it was for Slobo. From the look of anguish on his face, I reckoned his childhood must have been much the same as mine. No fighting back, no retaliation, just withdrawal. But I knew that wouldn’t last for long.
I kicked into his back. I wanted to keep his jaw in one piece. He keeled over completely. I searched him as Anna handed the car keys to Irina and signalled that it was time for her to leave. She’d wait for us in the car.
Irina stopped for a moment and stared down at Mr Lover Man with a look of the purest hatred. She patted her handbag. He might not have known what it contained, but he got the message loud and clear.
A split second later, as the door closed behind her, the subservience had gone. He gave it full revs with the Russian abuse. I didn’t have to be a UN interpreter to understand his I’m-going-to-kill-you-you-will-pay-for-this shit.
I kicked into his chest to shut him up and put my boot firmly on his neck. I powered up his mobile. Scrolling down the list of contacts, I found ‘Lilian E’. I pressed dial. There was nothing. No ring tone; no message service. I memorized the number and checked the call log. Only a handful of local numbers and one international. I memorized that too.
I leant down to make sure we had eye-to-eye. If he spoke English I’d soon know.
‘Tell him if he stays still and answers my questions I won’t hurt him.’
His eyes were fixed on mine. I could see what he was thinking. What the fuck was an American, Brit, Australian or whatever doing here? I moved behind him, out of his direct sight. I hoped it would make him flap a whole lot more.
17
Anna spoke gently to him. She sounded almost motherly. The only word I could make out was ‘Lilian’.
I got the impression she was casting me as the bad guy. She was the good one, the one he could trust and confide in, the one who wouldn’t rip his head off his shoulders. But his shoulders still tensed as she reached into her coat pocket. They relaxed again as she pulled out her cigarettes and lighter. She tapped out a couple and offered him one.
As she lit hers, I saw the reflection of the flame glisten on her cheek. She was crying. As she talked to him now, there was a sadness in her voice that almost made me reach for a Kleenex.
Slobo sucked down a lungful of smoke.
I turned away and started ripping the place apart. The flat might have been small, but he had an expensive iPod dock and flat-screen TV. The stack of well-thumbed DVDs next to it would have taken a month to work through. Mr Lover Man must have kept them for a quiet night in. I didn’t think German farmyard stuff and hard-core bondage was the way to a girl’s heart.
The wardrobe was stuffed with clothes that reeked of tobacco and cheap cologne. I glanced round. He was listening intently to Anna, but looked more interested in her cigarettes than in keeping us up to speed on Lilian’s travel plans.
‘How’s it going?’ I tipped out a shelf full of rip-off Armani underwear.
‘He’s telling me nothing.’ She said it matter-of-factly, as if we were discussing the weather. ‘He just keeps saying that he saw her a couple of weeks ago and hasn’t heard from her since.’
I opened the bedside cabinet nearest the bathroom door. The drawer was stuffed with packets of condoms and lubricants, four or five chunky square watches and a pair of handcuffs that Irina would no doubt have been treated to if he’d had his way.
I found his Desert Eagle in the cupboard on the other side of the bed. I lifted it out and pulled back the top slide to check if there was a round in the chamber. There wasn’t. I hit the magazine release catch with my thumb. The empty mag fell into my hand. The weapon was a bit of a metaphor for this dickhead. All bling, no substance.
He’d probably bought the Israeli-made pistol before he discovered he couldn’t get hold of the ammunition. Or maybe he thought it went nicely with the handcuffs. Perhaps it was a sex thing, the closest he could get to a hard- on.
I showed Anna the weapon. He turned and looked at me. He was worried, but not yet fearful. He knew it wasn’t loaded. He said something, but it sounded like he was still trying to weasel his way out.
‘Anything?’
‘Still the same story.’ Her tone was starting to change.
I dropped the weapon onto the black, imitation-satin sheets. I knelt down and pulled a large clear plastic storage box from under the bed. Inside it was a small digital camera, Kodak printer, and a carton of photographic paper. I picked out six or seven five-by-eight pictures. The face had been cut neatly out of every one, but I could see that they were all of the same girl. I recognized her shape and the pale, almost translucent tone of her skin. I also recognized the background. Lilian had been posing against the battleship grey wall of the room we were in. I stood up with the pictures in my hand. ‘Anna …’
She took one of them, knelt down and thrust it at him.
Slobo’s head jerked back and he spat in her face. She didn’t flinch. She rose slowly and stood over him as he fired off another volley of Russian. She shook her head and went through to the bathroom to clean up.
‘Bring back a towel.’
I picked up the handcuffs. Slobo guessed what was about to happen and started to get up. He’d finally realized he was going to have to take me on. I wasn’t about to encourage him. I dished out another hard slap across the head and took him down with a kick in the solar plexus. I crunched my knee on his neck to keep it on the floor, grabbed his hands and snapped on the cuffs behind his back.
I grabbed him under his elbows and dragged him to his feet. I didn’t say a word. I didn’t need to. He had to comply or he was going to be in huge pain.
I turned him round and shoved him, back first, onto the bed so his cuffed wrists were beneath him.
I ripped the case off a pillow and shoved it over his head. He wriggled and cursed. I gave him a punch to the side of his face. ‘Shut the fuck up!’
He fell silent. He might not have known the words but he got the message loud and clear.
I left him there. He wasn’t going anywhere except maybe back on the floor. I went over to the sink and opened the cupboard underneath. The biggest pan I could find held about three litres. Home cooking obviously wasn’t part of Slobo’s seduction routine.
Anna emerged with a striped bath towel. She saw me filling the pan from the tap.
‘No, Nick, not that …’
I walked towards her with the full pan. ‘If we don’t, we’re going to be here all day.’
‘You might kill him.’
‘I’ve had it done to me. I know what I’m doing. You just think you’re dying.’
18
