Blood Money (13 page)
‘Go on, girl,’ said the woman in the emerald sari. ‘You’ll be fine. It’s nothing to be afraid of.’
‘We’ll see you later,’ said the woman in orange. They waved at her, smiling broadly as she left.
The nurse led Amber out into the corridor. ‘They shouldn’t have shown you in here yet. You’re supposed to have tests first.’
‘Sorry,’ said Amber. She had nothing to be sorry about, but hoped that if she sounded contrite, the nurse wouldn’t ask who had shown her in.
As they passed the common room and the bathroom, Amber had a quick look in each. Both rooms were empty. That settled it. She had looked everywhere in the safe house and clinic and Bina wasn’t there.
The nurse took Amber back through the security door, through the dialysis room, and into another room that looked out onto a scruffy yard at the back of the building. There were no bars on the windows; indeed, this window was wide open, although it didn’t seem to help the ventilation. Bina couldn’t be on the premises – they would certainly have kept her in the section of the building that had bars.
The room looked like a doctor’s surgery, with the usual equipment Amber was used to from her checkups in the US. A blood pressure monitor sat on the desk alongside a stethoscope; there was a trolley with sterilized instruments, a yellow box for used needles.
‘Sit down on that couch,’ said the nurse. Amber did as she was told.
The nurse went over to the trolley and Amber heard wrappers being torn open. She saw a needle being fitted onto the end of a syringe.
‘What are you going to do?’ said Amber.
‘We’ll start by taking your blood. This will tell us which of the patients on our transplant list you match.’
Automatically Amber put out her left arm. And then she remembered what the man on the dialysis machine had told her. He had had test after test, paying every time, in the hope of finding somebody who was a match. What if they found she was a match for him? To disappoint him would be so cruel. Or she might match someone else. Even if she matched no one, someone would pay for this test. Someone who couldn’t afford another wasted result.
The nurse came towards her, the needle glinting in her hand. ‘I’ll have to take quite a bit as there are a number of people to test you against . . .’
Amber saw the syringe. It was huge. She stood up and put on an expression of panic. ‘No.’
The nurse glared at her. ‘It’s only a needle. You’re not scared, are you?’
For a moment Amber found the situation funny. Thank goodness she hadn’t told any of them she was a diabetic. They’d never believe that someone who had to inject herself had a phobia about them. ‘If you don’t mind,’ said Amber, ‘I need to think about it . . .’ She made to move towards the door.
The nurse blocked her way. ‘Just sit down and it will all be over.’
Amber backed away towards the window.
The nurse advanced, more angry now. ‘I said,
sit down
!’
sit down
!’
Amber’s hands touched the sill. In a flash she had vaulted out. She landed on hard earth, rolled to her feet and was already running. There was an iron gate leading onto the street. The nurse put her head through the window and shouted something, but Amber sprinted for the gate and was out in moments. She leaned against the wall getting her breath, and called Alex.
19
C
RUEL
C
ITY
RUEL
C
ITY
On the edge of the road, next to the park, a tattered figure sat hunched like a shivering animal. He wore stained, striped rags that looked like an old set of pyjamas. His face was greasy and stained and his head was swathed in a filthy turban. People going into and out of the park stepped over him without noticing.
Li and Hex were looking at him, though. It was Paulo. Once they’d bought some rags, he’d got into his costume immediately. Now he sat on the pavement begging, while they sat on the parched grass in the park, enjoying a snack of bhajis. Li had just taken an update call from Alex. They’d been excited about his lead but they all agreed they couldn’t pin all their hopes on Bina being there. So Hex kept watching for Trilok’s next phone call.
‘Why is it,’ said Hex, ‘that Paulo makes such a good rancid, stinking old devil?’ On a previous mission in Ecuador he had had to impersonate a street urchin, and had done it so convincingly even his friends were fooled.
Li shook her head. ‘Maybe this is what he’s like when he’s out with the cowboys on the range. We’re just seeing the real Paulo.’
Hex whistled through his teeth. ‘The guy must have no sense of smell. And to think you found someone actually selling those old things. They probably can’t believe their luck.’
Li grimaced. ‘It looked like somebody had died in them.’
‘Hey,’ said Hex urgently. ‘Our man’s gone live.’ He touched a key on his palmtop. ‘Yes, there he is.’ He leaned over the map that Li had spread out on the ground. ‘Right here. Two streets away.’
He and Li were immediately on their feet, walking towards Paulo.
Paulo saw them approach. This was the signal. As they got close, he heard Li say ‘Mount Road’ to Hex. Neither she nor Hex looked down at him as they walked past. They were minimizing the amount of contact between them. It was very unlikely anyone linked to Trilok was watching but it would be stupid to take a risk.
Paulo got up. He had studied the map and committed it to memory. Like a cabbie, he now knew the quickest route to all the local streets. He had to catch up with Trilok immediately, as he wouldn’t get any more clues. If Trilok was in a rickshaw or a car, he might be away in seconds.
Mount Road was three minutes’ walk away. Paulo shuffled along to a long, dank-looking alleyway. When he was sure no one was looking, he sprinted like the wind. Li had made him swap his trainers for a scrappy pair of sandals and they weren’t easy to run in. They flapped noisily with each footfall, the sound echoing off the narrow walls. A gutter ran along one edge and smells wafted out of doorways, none of them pleasant. Paulo concentrated on the light at the other end of the alley.
A silhouette stepped out of one of the doorways. It stood like a menacing black shadow against the oblong of daylight, a knife in one hand.
Dios,
thought Paulo. He stopped and sized up the guy. The clothes weren’t much better than the ones Paulo was wearing. Well, that explained why he was prepared to rob an untouchable.
thought Paulo. He stopped and sized up the guy. The clothes weren’t much better than the ones Paulo was wearing. Well, that explained why he was prepared to rob an untouchable.
The man came towards Paulo and babbled at him in Hindi. His teeth were large and glinted like broken stones in the light that slanted into the alley. The knife gleamed dully.
Paulo reached inside his robe and brought out his wallet.
The man stared at it and snatched it from Paulo’s hand. He probably thought Paulo had stolen it himself. He flipped it open. Inside was Paulo’s ID, with his photo. The man looked at it, glanced at Paulo and then back at the photo of the clean, grinning Paulo. His mouth dropped open.
Paulo seized the moment. He kicked out at the man’s wrist, sending the knife straight up in the air. The weapon came down and both of them grabbed for it. Paulo found himself holding it by the handle. His assailant opened his hand in surprise and found a gash of blood across the palm, sliced by the blade.
Paulo’s wallet was on the ground. He grabbed it and ran for the oblong of light.
He emerged, the blood surging in his ears like thunder. This was Mount Road.
Focus
, he told himself.
Where was Trilok?
He might have gone by now. How long had that little detour taken? Maybe it was seconds. It felt like an hour.
Focus
, he told himself.
Where was Trilok?
He might have gone by now. How long had that little detour taken? Maybe it was seconds. It felt like an hour.
He still had the knife in his hand; he chucked it over a wall.
Then he spotted Trilok. Having seen him in the village, he wasn’t likely to forget him. The kidney man was leaning against the wall of an apartment block, talking into his phone. Paulo squatted down on the pavement like the beggars he had seen, and waited. One foot stirred up a cloud of flies and he felt slime between his toes. He had stepped in a cow pat. Oh well – that would only make the disguise more authentic.
Trilok finished his call and snapped the phone shut. He set off at an amble through the streets. Paulo got to his feet and followed slowly. He met Hex and Li coming out of a side street, and walked past without acknowledging them. He knew they were tracking him anyway.
Paulo had never seen the kidney man’s face this close before. The man had big, fleshy features and wore a frown. Was that the face of a man worrying about a little Indian girl he was holding captive? Anyway, he wasn’t going to let him out of his sight.
On the other side of town, Alex and Amber reached St Francis’s Hospital. It was modern, recently built, with palm trees in the forecourt that waved in the breeze as ambulances pulled up.
‘This is where that boy had his kidney taken out?’ said Amber.
Alex nodded. ‘It’s a lot more swish than I was expecting.’
A long limousine drew up and stopped outside the entrance. A uniformed chauffeur got out of the driver’s seat and opened the back door. A figure climbed out carefully, brushing the creases out of a linen suit. On his wrist was a large gold watch. He straightened up and began to walk slowly towards the doors.
Amber remembered the women in the safe house; the patients at the clinic. She muttered to Alex, ‘It looks like the clientele’s a bit different here from downtown.’
Alex looked at the people going in and out of the hospital, visiting friends, bringing people for treatment. It was shocking to see people who were so well dressed after the poverty they had witnessed. It was like a different country.
‘Do you really think they’ve got Bina prisoner here?’ said Amber.
‘Only one way to find out,’ said Alex. ‘We’ve got to get in.’
Amber put her hand on his shoulder to stop him. ‘If we’re not going to be thrown out straight away, we’d better look like we’re respectable.’ She glanced at the knife on Alex’s waistband. Wearing it was as natural to him as wearing a watch was to other people. She knelt on the ground and opened Hex’s rucksack. ‘Put that in here.’
Alex handed the knife over and Amber stowed it in the bag. He still didn’t look quite right. Her fingers closed around something and she pulled it out. ‘Well, well, what have we here?’ She smiled in delight. ‘Hex uses hair gel.’
Alex looked horrified. ‘He doesn’t.’
Amber showed him the jar. ‘Well, it’s his bag and this sure as hell ain’t mine.’
‘The wuss,’ said Alex. ‘Wait till I see him.’ As he turned round Amber stood up and slopped a dollop of gel onto his fringe. ‘Hey—’
She silenced him with a furious look and started working the gel into his hair. ‘The more groomed you look, the richer you look.’
‘I
was
groomed.’
was
groomed.’
‘In a Geordie sort of way.’ Amber stroked the gel through his hair and sculpted it into trendy spikes.
Alex pulled a face. ‘It smells like perfume.’
‘Nearly done.’ Amber made one last adjustment and put the gel back in Hex’s rucksack. ‘Ooh, here’s Paulo’s pink shirt—’
‘No!’ barked Alex.
Amber grinned. ‘Only kidding. Ready?’
Alex glared at her. She might as well have tied a bow in his hair. ‘I feel like a girl,’ he said. ‘Come on.’
Trilok moved slowly along the street. He was in another section of the market that was devoted to food. Samosas were tossed in boiling oil next to big shaking cabinets of kulfi, the condensed milk ice cream. Trilok stopped and bought a fresh mango juice. He chatted to the stallholder as he drank it.
Paulo stopped too. Some people went past him and he put his hand out, eyes pleading. They stepped round him as though they were avoiding a lamppost. Nearby was another untouchable, squatting on his haunches by a bin, watching and waiting to see what people threw away.
Trilok was on the move again. He put his hand in his pocket and took out some change. As he passed the bin he picked out something from among the coins and threw it in the bin. Then he went on to a melon stall.
The untouchable sprang up to see what Trilok had dropped into the bin but Paulo moved faster. It had looked like a piece of paper. He had to get it. He plunged his hands in. The stench that rose up was like being punched: the bin was filled with vegetable peelings and fruit skins, fermenting in the oven-like heat of the day. Flies billowed up in an angry, buzzing cloud.
The beggar yammered at Paulo in fury, trying to keep him off his territory. Paulo was tempted to leave him to it; his stomach was heaving. As the untouchable tried to fend him off, their struggles drove the piece of paper deeper into the slimy mess. Paulo glanced at Trilok. The kidney man was standing eating a slice of melon. At least this fight was good cover; everyone had turned away in disgust.
Suddenly a massive, snuffling grey shape loomed up behind Paulo. A wide muzzle dipped into the mess like a spade and pushed it around. A cow had decided it wanted a snack. It twisted its head, trying to reach the bottom of the bin. Its horns knocked Paulo out of the way and sent the untouchable sprawling.
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