The Third Antichrist (18 page)

‘They’re in Turkey.’

‘Turkey?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where in Turkey?’

Radu hesitated.

Abi spoke into his cell phone. ‘If this imbecile gives me one more featherbrained answer, saw off one of the kid’s fingers, okay?’ He glanced back at Radu. ‘The man who is holding the boy is mad. He likes doing bad things to children. Once he starts, I may not be able to stop him. Now tell me. Where are they?’

Radu stayed silent for a long time. He scanned the ground like a man searching for a lost coin. Then he looked up into the sky. ‘If I tell you, what’s to stop me calling and warning them?’

Abi gave a long drawn-out sigh. ‘Don’t act like you’re dumber than you are. You’re coming with us. You and the boy. What did you think? That we’d write down Sabir’s address on the back of an envelope and then leave you both to get on with the rest of your lives?’

‘Not the boy. You don’t need him. I will come.’

‘You still haven’t told me where they are. We’ll barter afterwards. Maybe.’

Radu continued with his perusal of the village. It was as if the walls of Samois itself might contain the answer to his problems. He spat into the dirt at his feet. ‘They’re in Romania. In a small village in the north of the country. With Yola and Alexi’s relatives. I don’t know the name of the village. This I promise. But I know roughly where it is.’

‘That’s cute. You don’t know the name of the village, but you know roughly where it is.’

‘This is true. I know how to get near there. But not what it is called.’

‘Anyone else in your camp know?’

‘Only me.’

‘I figured you’d say that.’

‘It is the truth. So help me God.’

‘Have they got a phone number?’

‘Yes. A cell phone. Pay-as-you-go.’

‘Who else has the number?’

‘Only me.’

‘That figures too. Give me your phone.’

Radu handed over his cell phone.

‘Can the boy square things for you with the rest of the camp? If we agree to leave him here, that is? And can he keep his trap shut?’

‘Yes. Yes to both. I go away all the time. I am a musician. But I must say goodbye to my wife, or she will worry. We married earlier this summer. She is pregnant. It will be difficult for her.’

‘My heart bleeds for you. But no. Get the kid to give her some cock-and-bull story as to why you’re heading off unexpectedly. There’s an emergency in Romania. Whatever. If you take me straight to Sabir, you’ll be nappy-changing in no time. If you cross me, your wife will be wearing widow’s weeds while she gives birth. Do you understand?’

Radu shook his head. ‘Why you want to do this? What have we done to you?’

‘Not you. They.’

‘What did they do to you?’

‘They killed my twin brother. Not to mention the rest of my family.’

‘No, they didn’t. They haven’t killed anybody.’

‘Caused their deaths, then.’

‘No. You caused their deaths.’

‘I don’t think you’re in a strong enough position to be lecturing anybody, Pikey. I’ll call my associates to come and pick us up. You tell the boy what you need to. If he, or anyone else, tries to get in touch with Sabir or any of his cronies, we’ll kill you. Is that understood?’

‘That is very clear.’

30

Radu watched the two
gadjes
sitting in front of him in the car. How he hated non-Gypsies. They thought and acted differently from anything you would ever expect. They even smelled different. And how could a man so young ever call himself a leader? That was the
gadje
world for you. In Radu’s world, older men always led the way. Perhaps there was an older man behind this young one, telling him what to do? But he suspected not.

The bad men had just placed Radu on the back seat of the car, between the two women. One of the women smelled very bad. As if it was her time of the month, and she hadn’t cleaned herself. Radu tried to avoid touching her clothes in case she polluted him, but it was difficult in the strict confines of the vehicle. He hoped the effect wouldn’t transmit itself back to Lemma and damage their child.

Radu switched his concentration to the two men in the front seat. The limping one wasn’t of importance. But the leader – the young one – worried him very much. He decided that if he had met this man out drinking, he would have avoided him. He was a variety of man like his father’s cousin, Badu, and his one-eyed son, Stefan. The variety of man who would strike you when you were least expecting it. He cursed the day he had encountered him. It was an unpropitious day. Someone must have given him the evil eye – the
ia chalou
.

He thought of his new wife and the child she was expecting and he felt like crying. He was too young to die. He was yet to be the father of many children. He knew this for certain, for his grandmother had read it in the cards. Added to which, so long as Alexi was away, he was the honorary headman of the camp. Radu liked the feeling of being headman. But it also forced him to take responsibility for the others. To sacrifice himself if it came to it. Radu shook his head.
Malos mengues!
It was a bad day for him when these people found Bera and Koiné playing.

One thing, however, Radu had worked out to his own satisfaction. These men did not intend to kill him outright. That much was becoming clear. And it did not seem as if they were about to torture him. Yet.

Radu cursed the fact that he had not shared the number of Sabir’s cell phone with someone else. It would have been so simple. But it had never occurred to him that anyone would come looking for information at the camp. He had made the assumption that after he and Alexi had arranged for the bodies of the brother and sister of Damo’s death bride to be covered up in the mine shaft, that would be the end of it. How stupid could a man get?

Radu tested the bonds behind his back. The rope had been pulled through the seat and on into the trunk of the car.

The leader turned to him. ‘The rope is attached to the spare tyre, Pikey. If you cause trouble, we’ll chisel the tyre off its rim, ram it around your neck, and light it. Then you can pretend to be a Christmas cake with a single candle.’

Radu shut his eyes. His hands felt as if someone had stamped on them. If he was going to have to travel like this all the way to Romania, he would be in serious trouble. ‘Please. Can I have my hands tied in front of me? I can no longer feel my fingers.’

It was the leader, once again, who took the initiative. ‘“Up in the north of Romania somewhere” just doesn’t hack it, Pikey. Give us more detail, and we’ll retie your hands for you.’

‘But I can’t tell you what I don’t know. Only my cousin Gabor knows the exact location of the village. And he can only be reached in Sighetu. There is a bar. People know him there. Or you let me phone Damo. Maybe he tell me.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

‘Yes. It was a joke.’

‘I’m glad you’ve still got your sense of humour. You’re going to need it if we don’t find what we’re looking for.’

Radu collapsed back onto his seat. He tried to work the circulation into his hands by squeezing one against the other, but it didn’t work. They’d have to let him out to piss, though. Maybe he could escape then? Or at the border? They’d have to cut his hands free at the border. There would be too great a risk otherwise that an official or a guard would ask him to step out of the car.

The two
gadjes
in the front spoke quietly amongst themselves – the two women beside him said nothing. Radu found that he could understand about one word in three of what the men in front were saying. It pleased him immeasurably when he realized that they were speaking to each other in English. They were clearly doing this so that he would not understand them. He was only a stupid French Gypsy, after all.

But Radu was a part-time session guitarist who played in the style of his distant ancestor, Django Reinhardt – or rather in the style of Django’s rhythm guitarist brother, Joseph Reinhardt, and his fellow rhythmician, Roger Chaput. For three years, in the early 2000s, he had travelled to England every summer to take part in the Birmingham
L’Esprit Manouche
festival. During this period he had often made out with English girls from the audience – all of the guitarists did. The girls seemed excited to be going with a Gypsy. One girl had even followed him back to Paris to be with him. Radu had learned a little English from her on the occasions when he had stayed over at her flat. It was the best way to learn anything. Flat on your back with a girl bending over you.

In the end, though, Lemma’s mother had driven the English girl away by threatening to cut her face. This was sad, as the English girl was very tight in her hips. She could make a man very happy. But Lemma had wanted him to kidnap her, so her mother had stepped in and threatened the English girl.

Radu had seen where good sense lay. His own father would have slit his throat if he had married a
gadje
. And now Lemma was pregnant he would soon be a father himself. He would have many sons and many daughters. He might even become Bulibasha one day, because Alexi was far too volatile ever to be put in charge of anything really important – everyone said so.

But first – before all that could come about – Radu had to escape these people with his life and his good health intact.

Radu found himself wishing that his grandmother was sitting beside him, at this very moment, with her magic cards.

31

Before each border crossing the two women took to bundling Radu out of the back seat and forcing him into the trunk. Abi had explained to them that no matter how relaxed the border procedures were, there was always the chance of a spot check or terrorism control. Once in the trunk, they twisted Radu’s legs behind his back and box-tied him so that he couldn’t rock from side to side and alert the border guards. Then they piled their suitcases on top of him, after one of them had gagged him with her handkerchief.

The first time they gagged him, Radu had to fight back an urge to vomit when he realized to whom the handkerchief belonged. Now that they were at the Romanian border, the whole process was about to start all over again – but even worse this time. Radu knew that, unless you crossed at the right place, the Romanians, despite their EU membership, still checked their borders assiduously. He himself knew where all the easiest crossings were, of course, and at what time you needed to cross, but he wasn’t about to tell the
gadjes
this. It was bad enough that, through fear for his life, he had led them this far.

‘Shame you didn’t think to bring your identity card, Pikey. Maybe we would have left you sitting in the car.’

‘What do you think? That I’m President of the Republic?’ The riposte didn’t come out as forcefully as Radu hoped. He just sounded nervous and apprehensive.

‘Open your mouth,
Diddikai
. It’s dummy time.’

‘Can I pee first?’

‘You can hold it till afterwards.’

‘But I’m desperate.’

‘Pee in your pants. We don’t care.’

Dakini screwed up her nose. ‘Then he’ll stink up the back of the car, Nawal. We’ve still got hours of driving to do.’

Radu was tempted to tell the one with the long hair that she was already stinking up the back of the car, but he thought better of it. She didn’t look like she had a sense of humour about herself. He waited fatalistically for the leader to make up his mind.