bookshelf full of coffee table books and several cameras, on the wall a large, framed black-and-white photo of a good-looking young couple drinking coffee in Paris, with the Eiffel Tower in the background. Abakay, the good old underground photographer!
Next was a bathroom, with marble tiles, also spotlessly clean, and the corridor with more framed black-and-white photos to the right and left – trees, girls, cats, cloud formations – and finally a door with the key in the lock. I bent down to the keyhole and tried to see past the key and listen for sounds. It was an old door with a hefty lock, andthere was a gap a millimetre wide round the key. All I could see through it was a white wall, and I couldn’t hear anything. On the other hand I could smell something. Something disgusting. All of a sudden I was panic-stricken. I imagined Marieke lying on the floor after an overdose, choked by her own vomit. I turned the key and pushed the door open.
At first I was dazzled by the sun shining in through the window. Then I saw Marieke. She was sitting naked on a king-size bed covered with gleaming white satin sheets, leaning against the pillows with her arms round her knees and holding her legs close to her body, and covered from head to toe with vomit. Grated carrots, bits of tomato, half pieces of pasta. Because the window was closed, the sour smell rising from the bed was overpowering.
Although she was obviously shaking with fright, she gave me a nasty, challenging, sick grin.
‘Another one?! I don’t believe it! Well, come on then! I’ve tidied myself up a bit for you. I hope the vomit doesn’t bother you. Want to lick it off me? Does that turn you on?’
Her stomach was rising and falling fast, like a dog’s. The harsh, faraway look in her eyes said: I’ll kill you if there’s any way I can do it.
‘Listen, I’m not –’
‘Here, have some pasta!’
‘I don’t want to do anything to you. I’ve come to get you out of here.’
‘Oh yes? And drag me off where, you bastard?’
I shook my head. ‘I’m from the police. Paolo Magelli, special plainclothes unit. We’ve been after Abakay for some time. I’m sorry we came on the scene so late. Do you have any injuries?’
Her glance was still hard, and she didn’t take her eyes off me for a second, but gradually the madness disappeared from them, making way for distrust. Her folded arms dropped, barely perceptibly, and the tension left her body.
‘Show me your ID.’
‘I’m sorry, we had to move fast and I left my jacket in the car. I’ll show you my ID when we’re down there.’
‘We’re going down to the street?’
‘Of course. I’ll take you home to your parents or wherever you live.’
‘Where’s Erden?’
‘Lying in the front hall. Unconscious. We had to knock him out.’
‘And that fat bastard?’
‘Beside him.’
Marieke stared at me for some time, then unfolded her arms and began massaging her hands, which were probably numb with tension, and looked down at herself.
‘I’d like a glass of water. My throat is sore after all that throwing up.’
‘Did they give you drugs of any kind, or …’
‘No, no, I stuck my finger down my throat. I thought that might turn him off.’
‘Wait a minute.’
I went into the kitchen and ran a glass of tap water. I listened for a moment, in case Marieke was taking her chance to run for it. But when I went back she was still sitting on the bed, now with the bedspread wrapped round her body. Only then did I notice that her lips were swollen.
She drank the whole glass, and said, ‘Thank you.’
‘Would you like to shower before we leave?’
Once again distrust flickered briefly in her eyes. Was this just a trick? Did I simply want her clean and smelling nice before I attacked her?
‘We can go like this if you’d rather. I just thought … well, so that maybe you can forget a bit of what happened here.’
‘I won’t forget it.’
‘Of course not …’ I hesitated. ‘May I
Next was a bathroom, with marble tiles, also spotlessly clean, and the corridor with more framed black-and-white photos to the right and left – trees, girls, cats, cloud formations – and finally a door with the key in the lock. I bent down to the keyhole and tried to see past the key and listen for sounds. It was an old door with a hefty lock, andthere was a gap a millimetre wide round the key. All I could see through it was a white wall, and I couldn’t hear anything. On the other hand I could smell something. Something disgusting. All of a sudden I was panic-stricken. I imagined Marieke lying on the floor after an overdose, choked by her own vomit. I turned the key and pushed the door open.
At first I was dazzled by the sun shining in through the window. Then I saw Marieke. She was sitting naked on a king-size bed covered with gleaming white satin sheets, leaning against the pillows with her arms round her knees and holding her legs close to her body, and covered from head to toe with vomit. Grated carrots, bits of tomato, half pieces of pasta. Because the window was closed, the sour smell rising from the bed was overpowering.
Although she was obviously shaking with fright, she gave me a nasty, challenging, sick grin.
‘Another one?! I don’t believe it! Well, come on then! I’ve tidied myself up a bit for you. I hope the vomit doesn’t bother you. Want to lick it off me? Does that turn you on?’
Her stomach was rising and falling fast, like a dog’s. The harsh, faraway look in her eyes said: I’ll kill you if there’s any way I can do it.
‘Listen, I’m not –’
‘Here, have some pasta!’
‘I don’t want to do anything to you. I’ve come to get you out of here.’
‘Oh yes? And drag me off where, you bastard?’
I shook my head. ‘I’m from the police. Paolo Magelli, special plainclothes unit. We’ve been after Abakay for some time. I’m sorry we came on the scene so late. Do you have any injuries?’
Her glance was still hard, and she didn’t take her eyes off me for a second, but gradually the madness disappeared from them, making way for distrust. Her folded arms dropped, barely perceptibly, and the tension left her body.
‘Show me your ID.’
‘I’m sorry, we had to move fast and I left my jacket in the car. I’ll show you my ID when we’re down there.’
‘We’re going down to the street?’
‘Of course. I’ll take you home to your parents or wherever you live.’
‘Where’s Erden?’
‘Lying in the front hall. Unconscious. We had to knock him out.’
‘And that fat bastard?’
‘Beside him.’
Marieke stared at me for some time, then unfolded her arms and began massaging her hands, which were probably numb with tension, and looked down at herself.
‘I’d like a glass of water. My throat is sore after all that throwing up.’
‘Did they give you drugs of any kind, or …’
‘No, no, I stuck my finger down my throat. I thought that might turn him off.’
‘Wait a minute.’
I went into the kitchen and ran a glass of tap water. I listened for a moment, in case Marieke was taking her chance to run for it. But when I went back she was still sitting on the bed, now with the bedspread wrapped round her body. Only then did I notice that her lips were swollen.
She drank the whole glass, and said, ‘Thank you.’
‘Would you like to shower before we leave?’
Once again distrust flickered briefly in her eyes. Was this just a trick? Did I simply want her clean and smelling nice before I attacked her?
‘We can go like this if you’d rather. I just thought … well, so that maybe you can forget a bit of what happened here.’
‘I won’t forget it.’
‘Of course not …’ I hesitated. ‘May I
Similar Books
