Wilderness (Arbogast trilogy) (16 page)

“Are you OK Onur?”

“Yes my friend but I have just had some disturbing news from the police. They say my family is in Scotland, but that they are not safe. I think they assume I am involved in some way.”

“But you aren’t of course,” Eric said, “the very idea is ridiculous.”

Onur was silent for what seemed an age before he looked Eric directly in the eye, “I am afraid that I might be involved. I have a most dreadful secret. One that I thought I might have kept.”

Istanbul, Turkey, July 24
^th
2009

Onur had been working hard. Kovan was 5 years old now. Time had passed quickly and she would soon be enrolling at school. He thought of her often, his darling. Hanom always said that she was her father’s daughter. She adored him and would sit for hours while Onur would read to her and teach her. ‘A good father is worth a thousand teachers,’ she would say and maybe she was right. Kovan seemed a model pupil. She had said her own name after just eight months and could already spell out the alphabet. Onur had high hopes for Kovan. He was earning good money now and had become well known in Istanbul through his engineering feats. The first phase of the Metro had been completed but the expansion continued and it looked likely there would be work left for years to come. His brother had also done well. Karim now called himself a senior director with his ‘corporation’. Everyone knew there was more to the business than met the eye but it was never mentioned. He saw his brother less and less these days but they still shared a close bond, which could not be changed. And so it had been good news when Karim had phoned to say he had returned from one of his foreign trips and that he would be visiting that evening.

Hanom had been pleased to hear the news and it would be good to be reunited once more. How many months had it been since they had last eaten together – three, maybe four? He could not remember. All those years ago when Onur had announced he had started a relationship with Hanom he had expected Karim to be angry. The pair had always flirted in the past and everyone had been surprised that the ‘dull brother’ had won her heart. Yet Karim had only smiled and wished him well, ‘Not my type brother,’ he had said, ‘I prefer more fleeting relationships,’ and winked at him, ‘Perhaps one day you can return the favour.’ There was something sinister in his manner that night which Onur couldn’t quite place but no more had been said on the matter.

The brothers met that night in a small tavern, not far from the Kocack family home at a spot which overlooked the Golden Horn. Quiet at the best of times they had agreed this would be a good place to catch up. The bar itself was nothing much to look at. A small door on the street opened up onto a long narrow formica covered bar, which ran some 20 feet before giving way to a larger room at the back. There was enough room for about six tables, each with four chairs. The bar had an exit at the back which led onto a narrow alley, which rarely saw passing trade from tourists. Onur bought two Efes pilsner’s and brought them over to Karim who was sat with his back outstretched on the undersized wooden chair.

“Ah brother what times we have known. Look at us now. You the successful engineer, the toast of the city and me, well I have my own wealth now and know no trouble.” Onur nodded he could sense Karim was building towards something, “And in all these years I have asked for nothing. Not one thing. When you took the girl I loved from me I said nothing.”

“What girl?”

“Oh brother, don’t play dumb – your wife. I would have had her for myself but you played a clever game there. I could see that she had changed. My adventures no longer seemed to interest her – perhaps she was not what she thought she was after all. And now all these years later you are the happy family man.”

Onur did not understand what Karim was trying to say, “You always said you didn’t mind. That you were happy for me.”

 “Yes that’s true,” Karim said, “but it was a sacrifice nonetheless. I surrendered what could have been mine for your happiness, as all good brothers should. I feel, though, that you owe me.”

“Owe you what? You know I would help you in any way I can.”

“It’s good that you feel this way as I have a favour to ask.”

“Name it.”

“You will be aware that my boss is not altogether, well how should I put this, he’s not universally respected. He has some unorthodox measures which not everyone approves of.”

“He’s a gangster if that’s what you mean – there’s no need to be so cryptic. We all know the ‘business’ you do,” Onur said, sneering rather more than he had meant to. Karim grabbed his brother by the wrist and pulled him close over the table. The cigarette he had been smoking was in the same hand and the smoke was swirling up and into Onur’s eyes, causing them to water.

“Listen to me. I have something to ask of you that cannot be refused. My life depends on it. As you know I’ve been away on business – this time it was New York. I have not spoken of my work but I deal in certain commodities which enjoy high prices in the States. But I have had a problem with one of my people. They have been greedy and my client is unhappy, which is a situation I must resolve. This problem goes high up and involves people that might surprise you – yet despite their status they are not above repercussions. The problem must disappear if you get my meaning. And this is where you come in. All I ask is that you give me access to the new tunnel you are building under the Sea of Marmera. I am not a psychic but I think there might be an accident there soon. You will play no part of course but the site is well guarded and I need help to make this happen. I have never asked you for anything but you owe me your life.”

Onur couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing, “Brother you must think me a fool if you think I’d agree to this. You want be to be party to someone’s death,” he said whispering through clenched teeth, “that I cannot do.”

“You will agree,” Karim said, pressing hard down on Onur’s wrist, “There is an occasion planned next week, where there will be a terrible accident. It will be investigated but they won’t know who to look for and no-one will be found. Although I ask you this please understand that you have no choice – I have been asked to arrange this. I repeat that you have no choice.”

“I have every choice, this is ridiculous.” Onur stood up and walked out, not looking back. He was shaking with rage. But Karim was not finished and he caught up with Onur in the alley, grabbing him by the right shoulder, spinning him round. He held him by the throat against the wall. Onur could only look around him trying to work out how this could be happening.

“You think this is a game Onur, something I ask lightly? If you do not do this you might end up having an accident yourself. Look at you the big man – you are nothing – a fat man, living a life of ease. Well you have made a mistake today, a mistake for both of us. Do you think Eser invested in the Metro simply for prestige? This is a project that could last for another 20 years. Plenty of people have died in ‘accidents’– you know that only too well but until now maybe you have not questioned why things happened as they did. But this time I cannot arrange it myself – it would be noticed but you could have helped. I promised that you would. I had faith in you brother but I am betrayed.”  Without warning Karim head-butted Onur and then was gone. Onur sat in shock in the alley, blood dripping down his head and down into the gutter.

Glasgow, Scotland, February 21
^st
2010

Arbogast thought he’d do Sandy a favour and let him know about the autopsy results before they went out on general release. The press had been quiet these last couple of days and with no new leads to follow the trail had gone dead. There was also an air of public regret now that the feeding frenzy over the ‘paedophile’ had proven to be less than genuine and 100 per cent off the mark. After a few rings Sandy picked up the call.

“Zander, it’s JJ here – you busy?” It always relaxed Arbogast to talk with his old friend. It seemed there were so few people he could be himself with these days without putting on an element of pretence. Sandy was a true pal, perhaps his only friend and that was something which still mattered to him, “It’s more business than pleasure but I thought I’d give you a heads-up on the abduction case.”

“Long time no-hear John. I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I was.”

“Letting me back on the case now are you? I thought Stevie Davidson was looking like an accident – and the girl must be dead surely? We’ve been running a book in the newsroom on how long it’ll take for her body to turn up.”

“Never let it be said that journalists aren’t salt of the earth.

 Gentlemen – every last one of you. We’ve had the autopsy results back in for Stevie Davidson and we’re treating his death as suspicious. The release will be going out in about an hour so you should be able to get in first with it if that helps. Off the record, the boy was beaten to death but whoever did it has tried to cover it up.”

“Jesus John that’s a nightmare – you think the girl’s still out there?”

“I do, but I can’t say where just now. We’ve got some good leads but I need this to get some public profile again and if you can help me with this I’ll help you out when it’s all done and dusted. Another lead, and the one thing no-one has picked up on, is the woman’s father.”

“The mother or the woman on the bus?”

“Mary Clark, the woman from the bus. I think there’s a connection with her father. You might remember there was a big scandal about him in the 80s. His daughter accused him of raping a boy who went missing on his estate – guess who?”

“Not Stevie Davidson?”

“Correct, although nothing was ever proved and the case was dropped. Nevertheless his daughter always spoke of a ‘secret place’ where it all happened. Said she’d been abused too but there was never any evidence. I think there might be something to that case, though, which ties in here. Eric Sanderson works with the missing girl’s dad. It’s all a bit too cosy. I can’t say any more just now and this information most definitely did not come from me, but if you check your archive this should all be in there somewhere. It could do with some digging.”

“I’m surprised we haven’t come across this already. It should have shown up in the search but of course our new system doesn’t read anything past three years ago. We have everything on tape in the archive but we now work off of a server, which only goes back so far. If we want archive we have to digitise the old tapes, which in effect means our archive isn’t worth shit. I’ll get down to the basement and see if it’s still there. I appreciate this John.”

“No worries – just do some digging. As long as the focus is on the more tenuous links we may give ourselves more time to wheedle out what’s actually happening. My suspicions suggest a link to organised crime.”

As he hung up Arbogast wondered if he had done the right thing but of course that was a question he should have asked before.

15

Istanbul, Turkey, July 24
^th
2009

The look Hanom gave him when he walked through the door told Onur all he needed to know about the state of his face.

“Dear god, what’s happened to you? Were you mugged or attacked in the street?”

Onur pushed past his wife trying to wave her away. He needed to see for himself – then he needed to think. His brother’s rage had been brief but well placed. Judging by the swelling the nose was broken. It had bled a lot at first but now it just felt numb. He could almost see his face throbbing with pain. The bridge of his nose was cut and it looked like someone had sliced at his face with a razor. ‘Other than that,’ he smiled, ‘everything’s fine’. Except that it wasn’t. His brother was obviously in some kind of trouble. He had never before even mentioned what he did for a living let alone begged for help. That his boss, Mister Ozan, was bad news was well known to the family but they had never voiced their disapproval. Karim had kept out of trouble and they had always hoped he was part of what was ostensibly called the ‘legitimate’ side of the business. Onur had been shocked when his brother said that there may have been more sinister reasons behind the accidents which had happened at his work. It was true that things had gone wrong from time to time. Three people had died in the last four years but all of those deaths had been accounted for and explained. In building the new Metro system they had to rip up large sections of town and drill and tunnel under others, but for the most part things had gone to plan. As if sensing he was troubled Hanom tried to comfort him. She ran her hand through the hair on the back of his head.

“What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you like this before. What happened?”

Onur was reluctant to give her too many details. He couldn’t, not until he had more information. “It’s nothing Hanom – a stranger, looking for money. I was walking down one of the back alleys after stopping for a drink on the way home. I was waiting for Karim but he didn’t show. He phoned to say he couldn’t make it. A problem at work I think. I’m feeling sorry for myself but the wounds aren’t as bad as they look. I’ll be OK.”

Hanom looked concerned but as she continued to fuss he grew more irritable.

“Please Hanom I must be alone for a while. Please don’t worry. I’ll be OK,” he said, bending over to kiss her softly on her forehead. This seemed to reassure her and he made his way to the top floor where they shared their bedroom. Outside the quiet chatter of passersby drifted through the summer haze. As he sat Onur wondered if it really would be OK.

Glasgow, Scotland, February 22
^nd
2010

“We’ve traced the mobile phone.” Rosalind said, obviously excited they might finally have a link to Hanom. They had decided to play it safe and had agreed they would not contact her directly. There was a feeling in the team that if they could find out where exactly she was they might be able to figure out what, if anything, John Madoch had to do with the trafficking side of the investigation.