Stealing People by Robert Wilson Page B

stripped naked as the chill of the metal seat spread over his buttocks, made his scrotum cringe. They lifted his arms over the back of the chair. He had to breathe down the vomit, could feel it gathering, didn’t want that, thought it would kill him.
    ‘Ease up. Let him be. Give him a chance to pull hisself together,’ said the voice. ‘You with me, Marcus?’
    ‘Yeah, I’m with you,’ he said, panting, head lolling. ‘I don’t know where, but I’m with you.’
    ‘Right. Looks like he’s alive and sensible. Put him in the back of my van and we’ll sort the money.’
    Alleyne felt himself lifted off the chair, carried horizontal and laid down on the cold floor of a van. They secured his wrists and ankles with ties to the side of the vehicle. There followed a long, vague discussion and a parting.
    Someone got into the van next to him.
    ‘This’ll keep you relaxed for your next trip,’ said the voice. ‘No SAP gloves here.’
    The last thing Alleyne heard was some large doors opening, as of a warehouse. The van jolted him as it moved off and he blacked out.
    He came round with no idea of time and a poor recollection of what had happened, only that he knew he’d been kidnapped. He was sitting on a metal chair again, arms over the back. He was in pain and more things came back to him.
    ‘Who are you, what the fuck do you want?’ he asked. ‘Let’s get on with it. You been sent by Glider?’
    ‘Slow down, Marcus. We’re going to take this one step at a time,’ said the voice. ‘This phone of yours, what sort of a phone do you call this?’
    ‘A mobile phone?’
    ‘Don’t get clever, or we’ll have to knock you about some more.’
    ‘What am I supposed to say? A Nokia 109. A cell phone. I don’t know what answer you’re looking for. It’s just a phone, for fuck’s sake.’
    ‘It’s not a smart phone. There are no numbers on it. No apps. Nothing.’
    ‘It’s my business phone. I don’t carry any numbers on me when I’m doing business, that way there are no … what do you call them? Repercussions. That’s it. If I get caught, nobody goes down with me.’
    ‘So you remember all your numbers, do you?’
    ‘Not all of them, no. There are too many. I just memorise the ones I’m doing business with on that particular night. It’s a precaution.’
    ‘And you’ve got another phone with all your numbers on it?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘I mean, like your private numbers.’
    ‘Private numbers?’
    ‘People close to you. Like your family, friends … your girlfriends,’ said the voice. ‘Boy like you, good-looking black bastard, bit of money about you. You must have plenty of girlfriends. Hard to keep track of them all.’
    ‘What are you driving at? Is there a question in there? I don’t know what to tell you.’
    ‘Where’s your other fucking phone?’
    ‘I haven’t got one. They’re all in my head.’
    ‘All right, let’s have your girlfriend’s number then.’
    ‘Which one?’
    ‘Don’t fuck me about, Marcus.’
    ‘You’re the one who said I had plenty of girlfriends.’
    ‘It was a test to see if you’re a lying black bastard.’
    ‘Well I’m not up to tests. Somebody whacked me over the head. I’m blank in here … just going with the flow, hoping for the best.’
    ‘You mentioned Glider.’
    ‘Yeah, he was the contact for this job. He vouched for you.’
    ‘That tell you anything?’
    Silence from Alleyne, thinking now. Glider had served him up, which meant he must have made some connections.
    ‘No,’ he said.
    ‘No what?’
    ‘It doesn’t tell me anything.’
    ‘I know he hit you hard, but you’re talking all right, you’re not slurring your words, you’re together. Now think about it. Glider gave you the job and look where you are. He doesn’t like you, and Glider’s got a lot of time for black bastards. Now why’s that?’
    ‘I think you’ll find Glider’s got a lot of time for black girls .’
    ‘You see, Marcus, you’re sharp. Things are coming to