“Tell me, Joanna. Her name.”
His smell. This aftershave, which had already bothered me in our living room, now almost makes me retch.
Another kick, this time against my thigh, stronger now.
“I said stop,” Bartsch snaps at Lambert. At the same moment, I hear steps approaching.
“What’s going on here?”
A familiar voice, albeit only from the telephone. Gabor is here, and he’s not alone. Two men flank him, and there are more in the back; one of them is sitting on one of the crates. “Just how incompetent are you people?” he says quietly.
Gabor casts a look full of irritation back over his shoulder, then turns to Bartsch. “Why is Frau Berrigan lying on the floor, and who did this to her?” He looks around. “Gentlemen, you can’t be serious.”
With exaggerated care, he helps me up, even brushes the dirt off my right sleeve. “I’d like to apologize for my colleagues. If there’s something I can’t stand, it’s bad behavior.” He looks around to Bartsch. “And? I’m assuming you now know who the woman was that you let get away?”
“We were just in the process of finding out.”
Ela, my God. We put her life at risk, even though we should’ve known better. What would I do if she didn’t get away? How would I feel?
If they ask me, I decide, I’ll say that the woman was called Susanne J?ger. A neighbor. I’ll act like it’s hard for me to betray her.…
But Gabor doesn’t even bring it up. He gives his people a contemptuous look before stepping in front of me, as close as though he wanted to hug me. Or kiss me.
Instinctively I take a step back, and stumble into Lambert, who holds me by the arms, not as roughly as before, but enough so that I can’t get away when Gabor begins to pat me down. He’s quick and to the point. First my jacket, then the pockets of my pants. From my right pocket, he pulls my phone. Which is locked.
I get ready for Lambert trying to beat the code out of me. I decide to stay silent for as long as I can.
But Gabor doesn’t even ask. “Turn her around,” he says.
As he reaches for my numb hands, I realize I’ve lost. My phone can be unlocked by fingerprint too. I try to break free, all along knowing how foolish the attempt is. I can barely feel what Gabor is doing with my fingers, let alone pull them away. It doesn’t even take thirty seconds.
“Thank you, Joanna. So, let’s see.”
I turn around, wanting to slap the phone out of Gabor’s hands and stamp on it with all my strength.
“Last calls. Oh—someone called Manuela. Was that your visitor? Was it?”
I don’t answer. Only shake my head, thankful for the fact that I didn’t save Ela’s surname in my contacts.
“Well, let’s check. Let’s see what Manuela has to tell us.”
This time Lambert has to hold me back with all his force as I try to throw myself on Gabor. I can’t let him dial the number. I can’t let him hear who will pick up, impatient and full of anticipation.
I fight against Lambert’s grip. “No, please.”
Gabor looks up, smiling. “Yes.”
46
A million things are running through my head all at once as I wait for Gavin. If it wasn’t him who kidnapped Joanna, there was only one possibility remaining.
But why would Gabor’s people do that? Just to take her someplace they can get rid of her without any problems? Or does Gabor still need her? Could she be of use to him in some way? If so, there’s a chance she’ll stay alive for a while.
When Gavin returns, there are two men accompanying him. I recognize one of them; he was in the airport lounge as well yesterday. The other one’s older by a good few years. Just like the other two, he’s athletically built and wearing a dark suit. They stop; Gavin gives me a nod. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“There’s a car outside. First we’re driving to the spot where they kidnapped Joanna.” After the first few steps, he adds, “It was very stupid of you two to run away.”
“Have you already talked to her father?” I ask as we approach customs.
“Yes.”
“And? How did he react?”
The look Gavin gives me is answer enough. Don’t ask.
The customs officer waves us through. We exit the building and head toward a black SUV parked only a few feet away from the entrance. Gavin uses a remote to unlock the car and pauses in front of the passenger door. “You’re driving.”
He’s right, that’s easier than me explaining the route all the way to the hotel. I get in the car, and I’ve only just fastened my seat belt when my phone, no, Ela’s phone, rings. Either somebody is trying to get hold of her, or … I hastily feel around for the phone in my pocket, pull it out, stare at the screen. “It’s Jo.” I exhale nervously. I press the green button and hold the device to my ear. “Jo, thank goodness. Where are you? Are you OK?”
Silence on the other end. “Jo? It’s me, Erik. Say something.”
Why isn’t she answering? Did they tape her mouth shut? Maybe she’s tied up and somehow managed to hit redial …
“What a surprise. Erik.”
My stomach cramps up, as though caught in an iron vise. That voice. It’s … “Herr Gabor?”
“Yes indeed. And I have to say, I’m greatly surprised to have you on the phone. On dear Manuela’s phone, at that. You know, I should really be angry at you. Not informing me, your employer, of the fact that you’re still alive … it doesn’t exactly stand testament to a sense of duty on your part.”
Gavin gives me a nudge, makes a questioning gesture. I emphatically shake my head and place my forefinger in front of my lips.
“Why do you have Joanna’s phone? Where is she? How is she? If you hurt her in any way I’ll—”
“Please, Erik, do stay calm. Joanna is merely enjoying my hospitality. And I’d be very happy if you came to join us as well. Then we could all have a nice little chat.”
I look over at Gavin, who glowers back at me.
“I want to talk to Joanna,” I say as assertively as I can. “I’m not doing anything before that happens.”
Instead of a reply, I hear a scraping sound, then Joanna’s voice, distant at first but moving closer. “You son of a bitch, let go of me.” The last few words are perfectly clear. Gabor must be holding the phone to her ear now.
“Jo. My God. Are you all right? Did they hurt you? Where are you?”
“Erik. Don’t come here, you hear me? You can’t come here at any—” She breaks off abruptly, somebody must have put a hand over her mouth. I hear Gabor’s voice again shortly after.
“It seems your fiancée doesn’t want you at our nice little get-together. But I do.” He makes it sound like an invitation to go for lunch. “Where are you right now?”