‘You don’t have to...’
‘What do you want, Carole?’
‘To see you.’
‘I’m not interested in becoming a part of Jean-Luc’s fantasy world.’
‘I don’t tell him everything. And of course ... I lie too.’
‘Then you can lie about me.’
‘I wouldn’t want to do that.’
We contemplated our drinks for a moment. Carole put some shine on her plum-coloured lips.
‘What do you get out of your relationship with Jean-Luc?’ I asked.
‘I don’t have such a bad life.’
‘But not a very complete life.’
‘He doesn’t exercise that much control.’
‘You’re not answering the question,’ I said. ‘Does that mean you don’t know?’
‘I know why,’ she said.
‘It’s not the sex. Not any more,’ I said. ‘Don’t tell me it’s money. That would be a big disappointment.’
She shook her head.
‘I’ve run out of guesses.’
‘I like bad guys,’ she said.
‘Somebody’s got to.’
‘That’s very true.’
‘What does that say about you? Are you a bad girl?’
She shrugged and looked around the room as if she had a sudden need of a blunt instrument.
‘Talking about bad guys ... what’s this business between Jean-Luc and Franconelli? What’s Jean-Luc done that Franconelli has to cut him up and have him killed?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said, looking up into her head, giving me Marnier’s marker for her fibbing.
‘I heard it wasn’t anything as simple as business.’
‘What did you hear?’
‘That it was something personal.’
‘And what do you conclude from that?’ she asked, putting her drink down, running her nails through her hair.
‘I haven’t bothered to think that far.’
She looked around the room again, bored this time, irritated by the line of questioning. She ran her hands down her legs to her ankles and rested her chin on her knees.
‘It’s about a woman,’ she said. ‘If it’s not business, that’s what bad guys fight about.’
‘You should know,’ I said, ‘which makes me wonder what you’re doing here unless you think I’ve got potential.’
She dropped her eyes, licked her lips, pressed them together and let them spring into the split-plum pout. She raised her eyes and gave me a long steady look that said I could move in if I liked.
‘You can kiss me if you want,’ she said.
‘I’ve not been in the kissing mood recently,’ I said. ‘Lost my appetite for it.’
I put my glass down and got to my feet ready to shoo her out. She stood with me, got very close, close enough for her hardish breasts to nudge my stomach. She took my hand, put it round the small of my back and pressed herself into me. I had a sudden dislike for this woman and a rush of nastiness shuddered through me. I pulled her up and gave her an ugly, lascivious kiss, pushing my tongue into the back of her throat. You want kissing, I thought, here’s kissing. She tensed with the shock of it. I felt her repulsion. Then her teeth clamped down on my tongue. I let her go. She bit down harder. I looked into her eyes. They had a chill dead look in them. She released my tongue and staggered back from me.
‘Don’t do that,’ she said, wiping her mouth with the side of her hand.
My throat was so full of self-disgust I couldn’t swallow. I could feel the dent of her teeth marks, the taste of her lipstick. She backed off to the door, wary, as if I was the date who’d become the rapist. I picked up the drink to swill my mouth out but got hers by mistake and more taste of her lipstick on the rim. She opened the door still looking at me, hate in her face.
‘I’m not a whore,’ she said. ‘Jean-Luc knows that.’
And she left.
I slammed the glass down on the table, picked up my own. These people. They’ve infected me. I threw back a jag of whisky which travelled down my oesophagus like a chunk of coral. The phone rang. More nasty people wanted to talk to the nasty man. I yanked it to my ear.
‘I’m interested,’ said Bondougou. ‘I’m interested in your idea.’
‘That’s good.’
‘But look,’ he said, ‘there’s a piece of business that Marnier has to finish for me before you do your deal.’
‘What’s that?’
‘He has to deliver something for me.’
‘In Cotonou?’
‘No, it’s in Nigeria as well.’
‘That’s interesting,’ I said. ‘Are you supposed to be present at this delivery?’
‘Of course.’
‘Do you think there’s a chance we could do the two deals back to back? You and Marnier make your delivery and half an hour later I bring my buyer along and we finish it.’
‘Perfect.’
‘Let me talk to him,’ I said. ‘Don’t make any suggestions to him. I’ll get him to put the idea to you.’
‘Very good,’ he said, pleased to have teased that knot straight.
We hung up and I looked at the phone for some time. Bondougou’s satisfaction made me think he’d already decided that neither Marnier nor I were going to come out of this business alive. Would he tell Madame Sokode about the gold business she wasn’t supposed to know anything about? Get her in on the act, help him solve some of his problems? No. Bondougou would want it all to himself. As far as he was concerned, all he had to worry about was me. I could see the scene playing in Bondougou’s head—with the schoolgirl business completed the anonymous buyer would pay for the gold and leave, I’d kill Marnier for Franconelli, Bondougou would take care of me and disappear into the night with the cash.
Then it occurred to me—even if Bondougou and Madame Sokode did compare notes and deduce my role it wouldn’t matter. They’d still want me out there on the lagoon where they could get rid of me easily. Whatever happened I was going to be present so all I had to do was make sure my back was protected.
Now that the bees had started to hum in the hive, it was time to ram the stick in and wiggle it about. I went downstairs to Moses’s flat, checked the Browning .380, and got in the car. I laid the gun on the passenger seat where it gleamed dully in the occasional streetlighting.
Chapter 28
It started raining as I came across the lagoon, hard, tropical African rain, so that I had to slow to a crawl under the drilling. It was no better when I pulled up alongside the wall to Marnier’s back yard. I could barely make out the edge of the lagoon beyond the rods of rain. Thunder boomed and tumbled across the invisible night sky.
I put the gun down the back of my trousers, stepped up on to the roof of the car, slung a mat across the broken glass and climbed over the wall. I was instantly drenched. The lights from the back of the house were a blur in the darkness. I splashed across the yard and up the steps. From under the leaking thatch I took a look in at the Marnier family.
Jean-Luc was sitting at one end of the dining table, which was set for two. He had a newspaper laid out and he was smoking over it as if he was studying form. There was a bottle of Red Label and a glass at his elbow. Water plinked into a bucket set on a dining room chair at the other end of the table where a mobile phone lay on its back. Carole sat on the sofa, out of her sheath now, and into some tight jeans, a T-shirt and cardy. She was reading a book whose cover had a raven-haired girl running away from something I couldn’t see, but had to be a big bad man.
Dinner was cooking in the kitchen. The door was open behind the fly screen. I flipped the latch on the screen door with my car key. I squeezed and shook as much water out of my clothes as I could. I raised the Browning, stepped into the kitchen and waited. The rain hardened.
Carole said something to Marnier over the back of the sofa. Marnier nodded in the direction of the kitchen. Carole sighed and got to her feet. I held the gun out at throat height and Carole turned straight into it, her eyes widened and h
er mouth popped to the usual ‘o’. Not a squeak from her though, and even if there had been Marnier wouldn’t have heard it over the roar of the rain on the ondulé,
I turned her and walked her back into the living room. Marnier glanced up as if expecting her to give him something. His head stilled and his eyes went this way and that. I pushed her to the table and told her to pull out a chair. I sat down and pulled her on to my lap, resting the gun muzzle on her neck where it made red pressure circles. I jammed her left arm under mine and grabbed hold of her right wrist. I pointed the gun across at Marnier and looked down the barrel into his good eye.
‘You know what this is?’ I asked.
‘If you’re asking me what make the gun is, it’s a Browning, a .380 I’d say. But if you’re asking me to explain this situation ... I can’t. Maybe you should.’
‘You know a lot about guns.’
‘I was trained. Since then they’ve become a part of my profession.’
‘You know what’s special about this gun?’
‘I’d like you to tell me it isn’t loaded.’
‘It’s loaded,’ I said, ‘and it’s the gun Franconelli gave me to kill you with.’ The rain filled in the silence, the leak into the bucket quickened.
‘And?’ said Marnier.
I dropped the gun to my side, let go of Carole and gave her a little shove in the back towards Marnier. She stood behind his chair and rubbed her neck where the cold wet metal had made its marks.
‘As you’ve probably guessed from your deep well of understanding about these things ... I’m not in the killing business.’
‘What business are you in?’ asked Marnier, still careful.
‘The selling your gold business.’
‘Selling?’ asked Marnier, nodding at the gun resting on my leg. ‘You only need guns if you’re stealing.’
The mobile at the end of the table let out a trill that pierced the thunder of the rain on the roof and jerked our heads round. I nodded at Carole. She picked it up, listened and handed it to Marnier.
‘Monsieur Le Commandant...’ he said, and listened intently. A smile spread across his face which, confused by the scars, turned into a leer. He nodded, staring into the newsprint spread out on the table. He made affirmative and delighted grunts. He finished by saying how pleased he was by the development and that they should meet in the morning to discuss the fine-tuning of the transfer. He switched the phone off, stabbed the aerial into the palm of his hand.
‘Gold,’ he said. ‘You were saying...’
‘Was that Bondougou calling you to say he had your contract for you now? Telling you the Nigerians are in a position to make the first down payment on the barracks, the hospital ... whatever’s coming first?’
Jean-Luc Marnier was not in the habit of looking astonished. Astonishment was for girls. Marnier was the one who always knew. He was the one who controlled situations, he was the one who astonished others with his cunning and sophistication, his genius and brutality. Now, twice in one evening I’d thrown him and he gave me a nod of about three microns of respect.
‘How do you know about that, Bruce?’
‘He told me.’
‘He told you?’
‘When I told him I had to kill you for Franconelli. You see, Jean-Luc, something you might not know about Bondougou ... he’s a Franconelli man. And, as you know, Franconelli is not someone you take lightly. How do you think I got out of jail ... insufficient evidence ... run along, Brucey? It’s not how that kind of thing works.’
‘I see,’ he said, leaning back in his chair, rolling his head on his neck to ease the tension.
‘Who do you think’s more important ... long term ... to Bondougou?’ I asked. ‘Jean-Luc Marnier or Roberto Franconelli?’
Carole started to rub his neck. He shook her off.
‘It’s not something Le Commandant is going to have to flip a coin over, is it, Jean-Luc?’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘He’s also very interested in your gold,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry about that but I had to give him a carrot. He’s got a very suspicious nature when it comes to me.’
‘You told him about my gold,” said Marnier, the anger building.
‘I had to.’
‘It doesn’t sound to me as if you are in the business of selling gold. Maybe you should clarify what business you are in.’
‘To tell the truth, Jean-Luc, and I’ll know you’ll know I’m not lying, I’m in the schoolgirl business.’
That didn’t exactly knock him back in his chair but it made him raise his head and give me a long, electric look from his good eye. Carole hit the wall behind him as if she’d taken a crossbow bolt in the chest. It didn’t seem possible, but the rain intensified its roar so that she looked up, hoping the roof could take it. The plinking in the bucket evened to a steady trickle. Marnier’s forgotten cigarette was now down to his fingers. He felt its sharp sting, tossed it into the ashtray and lit another.
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘that’s the business I’m in and, like any business, the better your information the easier it is to proceed. Bondougou and I are the only ones who know all three elements of the deal. The buyer, the seller and the intermediary. We’re also the only ones who know the real terms of the deal. Who’s going to get what for doing which work. This is a dirty business, Jean-Luc, maybe even dirtier than the drugs business, which has that built-in nastiness to make sure people don’t get too many ideas of their own and start using them. I don’t think this business is that different. Some people aren’t going to get out of this alive. I’ve decided I want to and I’ve decided that you and the schoolgirls are going to survive with me, but we’re going to have to work together and there’s only one way this deal is going to happen and that’s my way.’
‘I’m listening,’ said Marnier.
‘It’ll take a glass of something to get this out,’ I said.
Carole slid a glass across. Marnier filled it and his own. The rain eased for a moment and came back louder. Thunder crumpled the air and thudded overhead loud enough to judder the window panes.
‘Bondougou hasn’t got a contract. There’s never going to be a contract with the name Jean-Luc Marnier or Cote Oueste Sari on it. The buyer of the schoolgirls is not primarily in prostitution but in the construction business. The buyer has been guaranteed those Public Works contracts you’re so interested in. You are never going to get anything from it and as far as Bondougou is concerned you’ll get nothing for your gold either. As far as he’s concerned you’ll get a bullet from me ... from Franconelli. And I’ll probably get a bullet from him too ... maybe, even that will have come from Franconelli as well. And Bondougou will walk with your gold money and his share of the construction contract.’
‘He just told me he’s been sent a signed contract and a four-million-dollar downpayment.’
‘In cash, in a Samsonite suitcase delivered to your door? You’ve been holding those girls a long time, Jean-Luc. It must have been a big worry.’
Marnier drew on his cigarette. It didn’t ease the tension that the last week had knotted into his neck. His need for the deal to work had weakened him. Marnier’s ego wasn’t used to this kind of pressure, the pressure of the unknown.
‘What do you want out of this?’ he asked.
‘I just want the schoolgirls.’
‘I told Bondougou that was a big mistake.’
‘What?’
‘Taking your friend’s daughter. I knew that was trouble, mixing the personal with business.’
‘That’s why I want Bondougou killed as part of the deal.’
‘What do I get for doing all this...? Apart from your word that you’re not going to shoot me with that.’
‘You know I’m not going to shoot you,’ I said. ‘What you get is your gold and the money for it too ... and your freedom.’
‘How?’
‘You’re going to have to kill the person who’s going to buy your gold.’
‘That could hav
e some nasty repercussions, depending on the buyer you’ve got lined up.’
‘The buyer’s the same one who’s supposed to take the schoolgirls off your hands.’
He took a long pensive drag and let the smoke seep out of him.
‘Who’s that?’ he asked.
‘I thought Bondougou would still be holding that card.’
‘We all have our cards.’
‘Only you know where the schoolgirls are.’
‘Exactly,’ he said, and drank some more, the strength flowing back into him as he remembered his ace.
‘There are a number of problems.’
‘Does Bondougou know you’re interested in the schoolgirls?’
‘Yes, but he doesn’t know how warm I am. He doesn’t even know that I’ve found you.’
‘What happens if your name comes up in conversation between him and the buyer. The whole deal’s blown then.’
‘That’s the reason I told him about the gold; I’m hoping it’ll take his eye off the ball. He’ll want to keep that for himself. But even if I do come up in conversation, even if the buyer has found out about my real interest, I’m sure the buyer will still want to do the gold deal and I’ll be there when it all happens.’
‘Unless the buyer decides to kill you beforehand.’
‘That would only happen if Bondougou told the buyer about the gold deal and that you were the seller. I don’t think he’ll do that.’
‘OK, so what are the problems?’
‘Bondougou wants to do the schoolgirl deal before the gold deal. He wants to get his cut from the construction projects and the money from the gold.’
‘If Bondougou doesn’t know that the buyer for the girls and the gold are the same then we can do the two deals back to back.’
‘You’re going to have to tell him that. Give him a good reason.’
‘I’ll tell him I have something else to sell in Nigeria and I don’t want to make two trips. I’ll assure him that we’re going to do the girls first and then it’ll be a matter of waiting around for half an hour to do the second deal.’