Silencer (36 page)

I stayed motionless on the bed. Unless he pulled a weapon and shot me through the mesh, he was going to have to open the gate.

Peregrino stopped and draped his fingers through the steel. He stared at me without blinking as the scene played out in his head: his dad bleeding to death under the pick-up as the rain pounded down on the tin roof of the shack … me running with the weapon that had dropped him still in the shoulder, to make sure I’d finished the job …

His mother moved half a step behind him, gently murmuring to him, but Peregrino’s eyes, dark and lifeless, never left me.

At length he turned, kissed her cheek and made to leave. Liseth stopped him; she seemed to be reminding him that his work was not yet done.

He pulled a smartphone from his jodhpurs and took a couple of snaps of me curled up in my basket.

Liseth wasn’t happy with my pose – she looked at me for the first time and motioned with her palm. ‘Sit up! Sit up!’

I wasn’t happy either, but I stayed precisely where I was. Maybe she’d get someone to open the cage and come in and teach me a lesson. But Peregrino checked his screen and was happy with what he saw. With another kiss on his mother’s cheek – and one last searing glare at me – he left us.

Liseth reached for the envelope and sat down, slowly crossing
her legs. She sent soothing sounds to her three babies to her half-right. The one to her half-left, she ignored.

She flicked her hair back and finally gave me her full attention. ‘My son, he’s grown into a fine young man, don’t you think?’ Her gaze was as steadfast as his. ‘Do you think he looks like his father? But maybe you cannot remember. After all, you only saw him through a rifle sight …’

Her eyes pierced mine, searching for a reaction. A waft of perfume, heavy and cloying, made its way to the back of the cage.

I kept quiet. Maybe she’d open up and let the dogs in. If that gate opened, I’d take my chances.

She paused for a couple of seconds.

‘My English is very good, Nick, isn’t it? I’ve been taking lessons every day for over two years now. I’ve had to – English is the political language of the world.’

I stayed quiet. I didn’t think she was really looking for an answer. Her entire demeanour belonged to someone confident in command, happier on transmit than receive.

‘Nick, you have nothing to fear from me. In fact, I have you – partly – to thank for our good fortune. But you are my gift to El Peregrino. What he chooses to do with you is entirely up to him.’

One of the dogs barked its agreement, its nose pressed up against the mesh. She uncrossed her legs, slid a finger into the envelope, and leaned towards me.

‘Of course you’d like me to tell you how we found you. I think I owe you that.’

She smiled, but I didn’t join in.

She extracted a photograph and held it up triumphantly: a blown-up version of the Anna and Katya snap, with me in the background making a brew.

She let the photo drop to the floor, and showed me another. ‘He has this one in his bedroom. Don’t they look wonderful together? She is also a gift to us …’

They were both a few years younger. Katya looked radiant, and he wasn’t so fat. She was in her doctor’s kit, standing outside a hospital – I could see a Red Cross and a bunch of important-looking signs in Spanish. There were lots of smiles and the sun was shining. Katya had gathered up her hair in a big messy bun.

Liseth turned the photo to take another appreciative look at it herself. ‘He always wanted her. Always. But she … she needed time to come to her senses …’ She smiled. ‘An awareness of destiny can be a heavy cross to bear.’

She turned back to her darlings.

I pulled myself up. ‘You found me because of a picture?’

‘Destiny again.’ She said it to the dogs and they seemed to enjoy the joke. She took the applause for a moment, then fanned them quiet with the picture of Katya and Peregrino. She waited for them to settle before turning back to me. ‘The strange thing is, I wasn’t even looking for you.’

She stood up and took a step closer to me. ‘I had no idea you were going to be returning to our lives until I saw this photograph of you and your lovely lady. Anna … such a beautiful name …’

I pictured her and the baby in the safety of the clinic under Frank’s protection; at least something was OK.

‘Our young business partners in China – a scheme you have only delayed, by the way – seemed to think you were on some kind of rescue mission. They explained about the photograph – and the moment I saw the scan of it, I realized the Fates had presented us with a gift my Peregrino could not be denied.

‘Then we simply had to wait as you made the journey to the Casa Esperanza. And now here you are.’

She took a third photograph from the envelope. ‘I had this taken for you. I suspected you might be asking after them.’

She held the glossy ten-by-eight against the mesh, and it didn’t leave much to the imagination: two naked, mutilated bodies; razor-thin slices all over their bruised and battered torsos; hair matted with blood. Sophie’s arms were bent at angles they shouldn’t have been. Bruce’s intestines had been reintroduced to the daylight. They’d taken a long time to ‘explain’.

She sighed regretfully. ‘We cannot tolerate inefficiency, you know that. Tolerance would make my Peregrino look weak. And as you are about to find out, weakness leads to defeat.’

As if to demonstrate that she was already tiring of me, she turned back towards the door. ‘Miguel!
Miguel!
’

It burst open and two guys almost leaped into the room. The older, moustachioed one acknowledged Liseth. His younger, smooth-faced sidekick didn’t even dare look at her: he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the bin-liner he’d brought with him.

Liseth pulled a lever-lock key from her jodhpurs, handed it to Miguel, then strode from the room.

Fuck knew what was going to happen next, but the dogs seemed to think it was show time.

The two heavies both had Tasers and big pistols in polymer holsters tugging at their belts; the leather sagged between the hoops where the weapons were attached.

The younger gun pulled my shirt and jeans out of the bin-liner. I kept an eye on it in case the mobile was still there in the pouch, but I couldn’t see anything.

Miguel fetched nylon-webbing leads and harnesses from one of the white cupboards and the dogs began to hyperventilate. Then he went into each cage in turn to rig them up, taking a lot of care not to mess with their coiffures.

Once they were fully kitted out, he motioned for me to go to the back of my pen, then unlocked the gate and threw in my clothes, minus the boots. They both stood and watched as I got dressed. I wasn’t fast enough for Miguel’s liking.

‘
Rápido, rápido …
’

The Shepherds were right with him: they barked their heads off, raring to go.

As I fastened my belt, the young gun handed his weapons to Miguel and joined me in the cage. He harnessed me up like my furry friends, which didn’t worry me at all. It meant I was getting out of there. It meant I had options.

Young Gun went to grab the other dogs and was soon standing there with two leads in his left hand and one in his right.

Miguel beckoned me to join them. ‘
Vamos, vamos
…’

I looked around as he handed over my lead, but no way was I going to be able to make a break for it right then. I didn’t care. I was no longer under lock and key. Every step I took from now on was a bonus.

Miguel kept behind us with the weapons as my three new best mates and I were led into a long, wide, bare corridor. The
casa
’s skeleton was constructed from reinforced concrete and, like any office block, they hadn’t bothered primping the below-stairs bits.

I could see admin rooms through arches each side of me, like a series of large, cube-shaped caves. There were washing-machines and dryers in one, sheets and pillows in another. Then a steam pressing room, where the staff suddenly got extra busy with the folding, not wanting eye-to-eye. The next cave along was stacked with dining chairs.

Wide concrete steps led to a set of large double doors that opened onto the first floor of the living quarters, which was where the luxury began. The main staircase towered above us as we headed down to the front of the
casa
.

My bare feet left sweat marks for a second or two on the white marble floor as the dogs pulled on their leads and Young Gun struggled to keep them in check. The furniture was classic French; gilded Louis XV seemed to be all the rage with the drug baron who enjoyed the finer things in life. I hoped Katya was impressed.

While we waited inside the main entrance, I studied the portraits hung on either side of it. You could hardly miss them: they were the size of West End cinema screens. A young woman smiled down on us from each of them. They were both the spitting image of their mother, right down to their hairstyle and the way they sat with their hands on their laps.

Miguel pulled open the doors and light poured into the hallway. Our handler led us down a few steps and onto a forecourt the size of a football pitch, where the sun bounced off three glossy black Escalade SUVs with darkened glass and sparkling alloys, as pristine as if they’d just taken a short break from the showroom.

I squinted across to the grass, where Liseth was talking intently
into her cell phone. Massive oval sun-gigs almost covered her face, and a baseball cap took care of the rest.

She turned and closed it down as we approached. Judging by what I could see of her smile, she was very happy indeed to be reunited with her three babies after all of fifteen minutes, but she couldn’t have been as happy as I was that the gravel beneath the soles of my feet was more like pea shale than that flint chip stuff that can really fuck you up. She took all four leads from Young Gun, seemingly unaware that one of the harnesses wasn’t attached to something furry and freshly coiffed.

The two guys stayed behind us as we headed off across the turf. We’d gone maybe a dozen steps before she stopped and finally turned to acknowledge me.

‘Get down.’

I clearly hadn’t obeyed quickly enough, as a foot was rammed into me from behind, knocking me into a very pissed-off German Shepherd. It barked and snarled and I covered my face against the bite I thought was coming. My sleeve rode up my arm as I got up off my arse, revealing the puncture wounds that I’d shared with Dino.

She didn’t miss a thing. ‘It seems that dogs don’t love you as much as I love them.’

One of the Escalades sparked up as she set off again, and followed us round from the front of the house. I stayed on all fours, trying my best to keep up, but the dogs weren’t impressed. Maybe Liseth was right. She waffled away to them in Spanish, telling them not to be so naughty. The Escalade’s engine remained a low growl immediately behind us.

The dog nearest me slowed, did a couple of tight circles, then hunched up, spread its hind legs and quivered. Liseth stared at the horizon as it coiled a big one onto the grass. Young Gun jumped out of the 4x4 with a plastic bag over one hand and a bottle of the
casa
’s finest mineral water in the other. He obviously got all the best jobs.

He gloved up the pile and poured the water over the grass. Liseth glanced down and inspected his efforts then headed off once more as if nothing had happened.

There was nothing but mountainous scrub between the extensive manicured lawns and the far horizon. A cell-net tower, presumably one of their own, punctured the skyline. The sun wasn’t that high and the distant view didn’t yet ripple in the heat haze, but it had been up long enough to dry the grass. I guessed it was mid-morning.

Liseth spoke to me again as she strode on; at least, I assumed it was to me, because she didn’t look down. ‘I used to have someone just like you.’

‘Where is he now?’

She ignored me as I scampered to keep up, one ear on the engine note of the ever-watchful Escalade behind us.

As we approached the rear of the house I could hear shouts, and the rapid thud of hoofs. We rounded the corner and I could see Dino was right: it was almost an exact replica of the front, with balconies and acres of terracotta tiles and stone.

I caught movement on one of the second-floor balconies. She had her back to me, but I knew exactly who it was. Katya turned, leaned forward, both hands on the balustrade, and looked straight at me. At this distance, her expression was impossible to read.

Liseth didn’t miss a beat. ‘She loves it here. You should be more concerned about yourself. You’re the one on a leash.’

Fat bastards on polo ponies charged up and down a rich green velvet pitch under a cloudless blue sky. A fleet of horse trucks and SUVs with trailers was parked to one side, bodies running about between them, preparing fresh mounts.

Peregrino spotted his mother as she headed towards a parasol the size of the O2 centre about thirty metres back from the touchline. He broke from the game long enough to come over and scowl at me from his saddle.

Liseth led me and my fellow dogs into the shade as he returned to the fray. Yet another of her favourite chairs stood alongside a highly polished mahogany table carrying a jug of ice-packed orange juice on a silver tray. There were only two glasses and I guessed one of them wasn’t for me.

What really grabbed my attention as we settled beside her feet was the memorial off to our right. It was about twenty metres by ten, and ten metres high. From the edge of a reflecting pool, gleaming white steps led up to the shrine, flanked by two buttresses, each crowned with a one-metre-tall tripod carved from pink marble.

I remembered visiting Lincoln’s version on my first ever visit to Washington and seeing the words ‘I Have a Dream’ engraved near the spot where Martin Luther King had stood in 1963. I wondered if there was a similar quotation by the Wolf on this one. After all, he too was a great visionary, reformer and defender of human rights.

The real memorial featured on the back of the US five-dollar bill, with the great man’s portrait on the front. It was probably only a matter of time before Liseth had her son immortalized on peso notes.