The Third Antichrist (53 page)

‘Ah. By clearing up, do you mean your brothers and sisters?’

‘Yes, Madame. One of us needs to attend the funeral. It seems the least we can do.’

‘Yes. Yes. I suppose so. Well. Wish them my best on their journey to wherever it is they are going. The whole thing is a tragedy, of course. Our entire adopted family wiped out in less than a year. But they did their duty, every last one of them, and I am very proud. I am gratified, too, that you, at least, are left to carry on your father’s work. It would have been a catastrophe if no one was left to give honour to his titles.’

Abi rolled his eyes. ‘A catastrophe. Yes.’

You callous old bitch, he thought to himself. Apart from Oni, you never really gave a damn about any of us. Even me, your technical favourite. If one of Lupei’s nuclear-tipped Kh-55s broke through the ceiling and landed on my head at this exact moment, you would probably slam the phone down and begin a game of backgammon with Madame Mastigou.

‘I shall certainly care for the old traditions, Madame, just as Monsieur, my father, would have wished. You can count on that.’

‘I know I can, Abiger. In fact I am certain of it.’

Bogdamic Camp, Romania
Early Monday Morning,
8 February 2010

85

It took Adam Sabir’s party the better part of a day and a night to reach Amoy’s camp. A few hundred yards short of the entrance, Radu indicated to Sabir that he should halt the vehicle.

‘I’ll get out here and walk in. I need to talk to Amoy and Maja privately before we enter. They don’t like strangers here. But the camp will recognize me. The local people around here hate the Roma, and would burn them out if they could. But there are too many of us. It makes our people cautious, however.’ He hesitated. ‘Damo. Do you have a gift I could offer Amoy?’

‘A gift?’

‘He is a very poor man. He lost his horse because of me. It would make it easier for him and Maja to be able to offer us hospitality without embarrassment if I give them some money as a gift. They have children to feed. Amoy earns very little. It would be customary for me to take something to them as a token of gratitude for looking after me that time when I was injured. They will not suspect it came from you.’

Sabir felt in his pockets. ‘I have our reserve – 900 euros.’

‘No. Not that much. They will think we have robbed a bank. Give me 200. But it is a risk. I must give the gift without qualification. If Amoy refuses to help us the money will be lost.’

‘That’s a risk I, for one, am prepared to take.’

‘Good, Damo. Good. You are half Gypsy already.’

Alexi leaned across the seat and slapped Sabir on the shoulder, his eyes glittering at the sight of the money. ‘You see, Damo? Radu agrees with me about you turning into a Gypsy. Maybe we find you a wife in the camp, eh? Radu, you look out. If you see an ugly one, or a double-widow, or someone who is ill, or barren, or who has the tongue of a viper, tell their father that Damo is available. He is rich, and he is available. And I, Alexi Dufontaine, volunteer to act as middleman.’ He grinned, showing his new gold teeth. ‘Damo, if you want, you can advance me my commission now. That way you get better service in the long run.’

Sabir shoved the remaining euros as far back in his pocket as he was able. One never knew quite to what extent Alexi was joking when he veered off on one of his inevitable tangents.

Radu hurried towards the camp. Lights were being switched on as people got up. Fires were being lit. Preparations were being made for breakfast.

Sabir turned to Calque. ‘Do you think de Bale has managed to inveigle himself out of that cellar yet?’

Calque smiled. ‘I’m sure he has.’

‘What do you mean “you’re sure he has”?’

‘Mean? Well, it’s simple. I bungled my search of him on purpose. It was dark. We were under pressure.’

Sabir stared at him. ‘I don’t quite understand you, Calque. What are you getting at? Please enlighten me.’

Calque sighed. ‘I should have thought it was obvious, Sabir. I made sure that whatever de Bale brought in with him was still on him when I tied him up. Picklocks. Knives. What have you. Even that telescopic fighting thing he waved under my nose out in Mexico that time. The one he keeps hidden in a sling up his sleeve.’

Sabir stiffened. ‘What species of brain maggot made you do that? He might have come straight out after us again. The man’s as crazy as a sackful of cats. I left a fucking long rifle in there.’

Calque puffed his cheeks impatiently. ‘Come straight after us travelling on what? A pair of skis? We were always going to be long gone before he and his pal managed to break out of the cellar.’

Sabir forced himself down a notch. ‘Okay. Yes. I see your point.’

‘This way we can rely on him and his colleague covering up all traces of the man you inadvertently killed. De Bale doesn’t want the police involving themselves any more than we do. And anyway, I have a suspicion that the good Count may be busy working to his very own agenda.’

‘What makes you think that? Do you know something I don’t?’

‘Just call it my policeman’s instinct. I’ve never quite believed in this particular de Bale as a Corpus zealot. Any 666 signs behind his eyes refer to pounds, euros and dollars, if you ask me, and not to the Beast. Added to which he seems to get a particular kick out of exercising power. And in order to exercise power you need a good reason. A good excuse. And what better excuse is there, Sabir, than saving the world from the Devil? Hey? Answer me that one.’

Sabir shook his head. Sometimes Calque meandered down side-roads of his very own invention. Sabir saw no earthly reason why he should follow along behind and make a goddamned fool of himself.

Radu returned after fifteen minutes. He tapped on the Lada’s side window. Sabir wound it down.

‘It is good. They are letting us in. Maja has found us two caravans belonging to her relatives. People who have gone to Rome for the Pope’s Easter Mass.’

‘The Easter Mass?’

‘Yes. It is the best time in the year to steal. People are always looking up into the air. To make the most of the opportunities, though, one must arrive a few weeks early. That way you catch out all the foreign pilgrims before they have had time to settle in.’

Sabir rolled his eyes. ‘Oh yes. I ought to have guessed.’

Radu shrugged. ‘These people are happy to rent us their caravans while they are gone. We leave them more money if we stay for a long time.’

‘Maybe they leave Damo their unmarriageable daughters too?’

Radu pretended to give Alexi a cuff with the back of his hand. ‘Okay, Damo? You fine with this?’

‘I’m fine.’ Sabir glanced uncertainly at Calque. ‘You really think Yola will be safe here? Having her baby, I mean?’

Calque glanced at the lights of the camp. From a distance it looked as if the entire US Mediterranean fleet were laid out below them. ‘Safe as houses.’

Albescu, Moldova
Early Monday Morning,
8 February 2010

86

Abi spent some considerable time ministering to Antanasia’s wounds. But there was little he could achieve without penicillin. Lupei’s array of tranquillizers, saline drips, and painkillers, however, was a wonder to behold.

Abi dosed Antanasia with more Rohypnol, and then wrapped her body in disinfected gauze. He had made a rather lame attempt to clean the deepest wounds on her back, but eventually gave up and left them for later. It was clear that there would be more suturing to do, including the reopening and abrading of old wounds once the infections had died down. But that was for the future.

Abi knew that he was safe inside the Coryphaeus’s house for the time being. Markovich had explained to him about Lupei’s odd habits. It would surprise nobody in town if Antanasia’s brother didn’t emerge for days, especially if they accepted his bullshit excuse that he was treating his sister for infectious typhoid. But Abi also knew that he needed to sneak Antanasia away well before dawn if he was to have any chance at all of getting out of there without alerting the Crusaders. Each hour he spent in the house after that added exponentially to the likelihood of getting caught with his pants down. God alone knew what private arrangements Lupei had entered into. Maybe Little Red Riding Hood herself came in with a basket of food for him at breakfast time? I mean, a man would need to keep his strength up for all that whipping.

Abi determined to wait until well after the next change of guard, trusting that Markovich’s roving Crusader would repeat his trick with the thermos about two hours into the new men’s shift. Fortunately, the windows of the house gave clear views in every direction. He would wait until he saw the three men clustering together again before ferrying Antanasia out to his stolen car.

In the meantime he continued with his ransacking of the house. As well as Antanasia’s passport and the Lugano bank details, he discovered a roll of 20,000 euros in clean notes taped under the central drawer of a breakfront desk. Tacked up beside the roll of notes was a well-oiled Czech-made 9mm CZ 75 pistol. Abi wasn’t one hundred per cent happy with the 75. He would have preferred the ambidextrous CZ 85, being a left-handed shooter – but beggars couldn’t be choosers. At the very least it felt good to be in possession of a pistol once again – and one with a first-rate reputation for reliability. There was nothing on this earth more likely to plaster egg all over your face than firing at somebody and nothing happening. Either that, or what had happened to him a couple of years before with a Savage, when two bullets had come out at once, neatly skewering his intended victim in either shoulder rather than plumb through the heart, which is where Abi had originally aimed.

Vau had finished the man off for him, and then both of them had stared at the Savage in disbelief and burst out laughing.

Ah, happy days.

At the thought of Vau, Abi allowed his mind to drift back to Sabir and Calque.

Yes. Those two would keep. He could afford to place his revenge for Vau on the slow burner. He had other fish to fry first.

87

Abi stole the German-registered Mercedes Geist Phantom motorhome just short of the Hungarian border post at Valea Lui Mihai. He had watched it come through the checkpoint, and had then tailed it for 40 kilometres, until its owners stopped for a coffee break.

He had threatened the husband and wife with the CZ, forced them to drink Rohypnol, and then driven them off the road in his stolen car, where any passer-by would assume from their postures that they’d stopped off for a kip. With the dosage he had given them, they would be out for a good twelve hours, with little or no memory of what had happened to them when they woke up. Ample time for him to recross the border lower down at Oradea, with a trumped-up story of having received a panic-stricken phone call from his family back home.