The Night Letters

had successfully reinvented himself as a democracy-loving businessman and was elected to the parliament with an outstanding majority in the fraudulent 2010 elections. As famous for his astonishing beauty in his youth as he was for his love of cruelty, the man moved through the world with the slow surety of menace honed through years of brutality. Before his twentieth year it was said that Massoud had slaughtered the inhabitants of an entire village because they had defied him, while more recently it was rumoured he had organised the disappearance of a young man his daughter had professed to love. Over the years Massoud’s name had been linked to kidnapping, torture and extortion, although it was common knowledge that most of the man’s wealth now came from the more commonplace practice of poppy cultivation. Understanding the power of mythology, the minister had never commented on any of these matters, or more significantly, no one had ever found the courage to ask him. Daniel’s time with Massoud had not been one of his most pleasant memories. It worried him that Sofia might be his friend, although from her body language when they had been talking it didn’t look like she cared much for the man.

‘I saw you talking with Minister Massoud. Is he a friend of yours?’

‘Not at all. I met him for the first time tonight.’

‘A friend of Jabril?’

‘Not really. He’s helping him with something – or at least, Jabril wants the minister to help him with something.’

Daniel could see Sofia was uncomfortable with the subject, although he was relieved to learn they were not friends and was willing to let the subject drop.

‘In the last couple of months four little boys have gone missing from Jamal Mina,’ she began, ‘maybe more. I know one of the boys.’

Daniel turned on the lounge, placing his arm across its back as he faced Sofia while being careful not to touch her. ‘Any idea who’s taking them?’

‘No.’

‘What are the police doing?’

‘Not much yet.’ He heard the frustration in her voice.

No one cared about little boys living in the slums. He remembered something similar happening about five years previously in Jalalabad. The word then had been that powerful and untouchable men had taken the boys. As far as Daniel was aware they’d never been found.

‘I spoke to Chief Wasim about them. He said he’d look into it. Anyway, for the last few months Jabril’s been trying to get politicians interested in a campaign to raise public awareness about paedophilia, but no one other than Minister Massoud has shown any interest. I know this “boy play” is big in the provinces, but with the media and all the public service programming on television you’d think they’d come up with something addressing the issue to show how damaging it is and how it’s against Islam, but no one’ll touch it. Jabril wants the politicians to publicly say let’s talk about this and stop it. Even if Massoud can’t do anything about the whole paedophile thing, we’re hoping he can get the authorities moving on the missing boys.’

Daniel knew that if there were nothing in it for Massoud he wouldn’t be interested, and if he was interested then he would have questioned why.

Daniel’s introduction to bacha bazi had come nearly ten years previously when he’d been called to the camp of a warlord to attend a seriously ill boy. He could see that the warlord, who had to be in his seventies, was really fretting over the child and had assumed he was his father or grandfather, but over the next couple of days he watched the way the man and boy interacted and had finally understood. On that occasion he’d been able to save the child’s life but not the child. The memory remained a painful one.

A couple of years later a young man had tried to solicit Daniel on the streets of Kabul. He had told Gharib he wasn’t interested in sex, but he was interested in hearing all about bacha bazi . Buying Gharib his first solid meal for two days, Daniel had sat with the young man as he talked. The two had remained friends over the years, although Daniel suspected Gharib was still part of the world of sex. He decided to ring Gharib in the morning to ask if he knew anything about the missing boys.

Talking about Massoud and missing boys was not how Daniel wanted to end the evening with Sofia. The crowd in the foyer and outside the front doors had begun to thin and her driver would arrive soon. He was running out of time.

‘You know, I was here last year and I thought I saw you at a party.’

Sofia turned further in her seat to face him directly. Aware it was too intimate for a public space, he moved slightly back.

‘Why didn’t you say hello?’

‘It was only for a second and I had to leave.’ He hesitated. ‘After all these years I wasn’t sure it was you, or that you’d want to see me again.’

She looked genuinely surprised. ‘Why would you think I wouldn’t want to see you again?’

‘Because I didn’t behave particularly honourably last time?’

Sofia leaned back in the lounge and smiled. ‘What makes you think I’m not the one who didn’t behave honourably?’

Whatever reaction Daniel had imagined over the years it had not been that. Searching back through their time together, he couldn’t find a single thing she would need to apologise for. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’

Sofia sighed deeply, leaning further into the lounge, watching him. She waited. When he still looked confused, she sighed again. ‘I don’t believe it. You’re going to make me do this, aren’t you?’

‘I truly have no idea what you’re talking about.’

‘Okay, so maybe I knew something was troubling you and suspected you were vulnerable, and maybe I took advantage of that.’ The only way he could describe the look on her face was seductive. ‘Some people might say,’ she continued, lowering her voice, ‘that using