Tom Callaghan - An Autumn Hunting

‘You want the girl?’ His voice was empty of all emotion. He might have been reciting the weather forecast.

‘I think of her as a woman,’ I said. ‘I don’t need to belittle her, the way you seem to have to. You’re not in her league, Kanybek. She’d have you dead while you were still wondering whether to scratch your head or your balls.’

‘We can get beyond this temporary unpleasantness,’ Aliyev said. ‘All I need to know is what really happened in Bangkok, and then we can get back to being partners again.’

‘Kanybek,’ I said, ‘I think this is the end of a beautiful friendship.’

‘You don’t trust me?’ he said, looking downcast.

I laughed harder than I’d done in months, maybe even years. But I made sure the gun was still pointed at his belly. And my hand wasn’t shaking either.

‘I won’t kill you now if you release her,’ I said. ‘And if she’s been harmed, well, I’ll do some harming myself. Of the permanent kind.’

‘You sound as if you’ve been watching too many Hollywood films,’ he said. ‘No need for all the threats and melodrama.’

Aliyev turned and made a circling motion towards the SUV. After a couple of moments I saw Saltanat emerge from the car, rubbing her wrists and with a look like hell unleashed. She walked towards us in a circle, making sure she didn’t get between the gun and my target.

‘You know I’ll find you, don’t you, Akyl?’ Aliyev said, his voice so measured you could almost miss the not-so-hidden threat. ‘And it will be me holding the gun that time.’

‘Neither of us needs or wants this shit,’ I said, weariness filling my throat. ‘We’ll leave now, and you don’t follow us. I’ll be in touch later and we can meet somewhere on neutral ground and I’ll tell you exactly what it is that Quang wants. You start supplying him, I stay away from the whole thing and disappear, and we’re even.’

‘How do I know you’ll keep your word?’

‘I want to live. And I don’t want to be looking at every car that drives by, every stranger strolling towards me, wondering if the shot is going to come from there. I’ve got enough information on Quang for you to put the pressure on. It’s a good deal for you, a good one for me.’

‘We’re both reasonable men, Akyl, one hand washes the other. If we can do that, and you decide silence is your best defence, I’ve got no reason to come looking for you. Bigger fish to catch, and believe me, you’re a minnow so small I’d throw you back in the water.’

‘Well, that seems a reasonable compromise,’ I said. ‘But just to seal the bargain, let’s the three of us stroll down to Frunze. Once we’re there, we take a taxi, you walk back to your gas guzzler, and I’ll call you later to arrange a meet.’

‘Why bother with the walk?’ Aliyev asked, but I could tell he already knew the answer.

‘Because you might just have an excellent shot with a sniper rifle in the back seat of your car. As long as you’re beside us, and no one can see if there’s a gun trained on you, we’re pretty safe.’

I nodded at Aliyev’s jacket.

‘Saltanat, would you oblige?’

She reached into Aliyev’s pocket, pulled out a gun. She unloaded it, checked his other pockets for spare bullets, gave him back the gun.

‘I don’t believe in putting temptation people’s way; I’m sure you’ll agree.’

‘Let’s walk,’ Aliyev said. ‘I’m getting cold, and I’m a little bored with the company, to be honest.’

I waved to the watching men in the car, and Aliyev gave them the signal to stay where they were. I wondered if they expected me to kill him once we were out of sight in the trees, realised Aliyev knew me too well. My white knight syndrome: don’t lie, don’t do anything underhand. As Saltanat always said, one day it was going to get me killed.

We walked back through the park, not talking, feet kicking through the swathes of leaves that had fallen from the branches overhead. It felt like walking through a church crumbling through neglect, through lack of love.

We came out onto Frunze, just by the football stadium. I knew we’d be able to catch a taxi from outside the maternity hospital on Logvinyenko, with its endless supply of young women clutching infants bundled up in coats, blankets and scarves.

I turned to Aliyev, held out my hand. To my surprise, I realised I didn’t entirely dislike the man. His chosen path was against everything I believed in, but I also knew he wasn’t the kind of pakhan who believed in slaughter, drive-by shootings, humiliation and rape. Unless they were necessary, of course.

I think he was as surprised to see my outstretched hand as I was in offering it. We shook hands, briefly, and I kept my left hand buried in my pocket.

‘I’ll be in touch tomorrow,’ I said.

‘Don’t try and play every side against each other, Akyl,’ he said. ‘Try and ride more than one horse and you’re sure to get thrown, maybe even trampled.’

He gave Saltanat the barest of nods – not risking shaking her hand – and turned, walking back the way we’d come, never looking back. If I had been going to shoot him, a bullet in the back would have told the world I was a coward.

I turned to Saltanat, felt my heart turn over at the sight of the line of her jaw, her full mouth, her eyes the colour of mountain slate, that saw everything and gave nothing away.

‘I don’t think going back to your apartment is a great idea,’ she said.

I waved at a couple of taxis that drove past, then watched as Saltanat raised an arm and a black Audi screeched to a halt. I guess taxi drivers are men after all, despite behaving like bad-tempered bastards.

She hadn’t booked the Presidential Suite at the Hyatt Regency, but it was still several notches above my pay grade. She gave the bedazzled man at the concierge desk strict instructions we weren’t to be disturbed, then led the way to the lifts.

‘Why didn’t you shoot Aliyev and take our chances?’ Saltanat asked as we sat down on the edge of the bed.

‘It might have been a little difficult,’ I said, and took my left hand out of my jacket pocket, the first two fingers stretched out, the way children imitate guns when they’re playing cops and robbers.

‘Bang!’ I said.

‘What a very good idea,’ Saltanat said, and pushed me backwards onto the bed.

Afterwards, we lay in the delicious drifting half-sleep that follows making love. I knew I had to talk to Saltanat, knew she’d object, but I couldn’t see any way out of it. I made us tea, putting off the awkward conversation, joined her back in bed.

‘You think I should have killed Aliyev earlier?’ I asked.

‘You had a gun in your other pocket, didn’t you?’

‘I wouldn’t have had time to draw it and aim before one of his boys shot me,’ I said. It was the simple truth, unadorned by any pretence at being a tough guy.

‘So he gets to kill you instead?’

I sat up in bed and turned to face her.

‘The day I joined the force, I knew I could be killed. But I’ve survived so far. Dying isn’t what worries me.’

Saltanat sipped at her tea, her eyes never moving from my face. I paused, hunting for the words the way a crow scours the ground for food.

‘Go on.’

‘I’m worried about the collateral damage.’

‘You mean me, I suppose.’

I nodded. ‘And not just you.’

She took another sip of her tea, delicate and poised. She paused, as if unsure how to reply.

‘I haven’t decided whether to keep it or not, you know.’

‘For what it’s worth, and if my opinion matters, I think you should keep it.’

‘A state assassin for a mother, a late and much unmourned cop as a father? Talk about giving a child a great start in life.’