Frank Schätzing - Limit

And then it comes.

‘In the form of Kenny Xin,’ said Vogelaar. ‘Or rather Kenny’s company, which practically handed me the future on a silver platter.’

‘Xin,’ echoed Yoyo. ‘The name doesn’t exactly suit him.’ Jericho knew what she meant. Xin was the Chinese word for heart.

‘And who’s behind the company?’ he asked.

‘Back then, it was the Chinese Secret Service.’ The South African rubbed his wrists, which were marked by the welts of the belt. ‘But as time went on I started to have my doubts about that.’

The revelation of Donner’s identity had thrown everything off-kilter. Adjusting to the new situation, Jericho had first seized the opportunity to take a quick look at his ear in the toilet mirror. It looked awful, drenched in scarlet; the blood had run down his neck in streaks and into the neckline of his T-shirt, where it had congealed and was now encrusted. Bleeding, drenched with fish stock and covered in the remains of squashed root vegetables, he was a wretched sight. After he’d washed the blood away, though, things looked a little better. Instead of finding himself faced with a problem of van Gogh proportions, he discovered he had actually only lost a carpaccio-thin slice of ear muscle. Yoyo, directed by Vogelaar to the kitchen’s first aid box, had bandaged him up. It had felt as if her touch was much more tender than the task required; if he were a dog, one might have referred to it as petting, but he wasn’t a dog, and Yoyo was probably just doing her job. Vogelaar had watched them, suddenly looking very tired, as if he had years of sleep to catch up on.

‘If you’re not here to kill me, then what in God’s name are you here for?’

‘To warn you, you stupid bastard,’ explained Yoyo in a friendly tone.

‘About who?’

‘About the people who are planning to kill you!’

Jericho pulled his mobile out and silently projected the text fragment and then the film onto the wall, the clip which showed Vogelaar in Africa.

‘Where did you get that from?’

‘We don’t know. We stumbled across it on the internet, but ever since then your friend Kenny has been trying to kill us.’

‘My friend Kenny.’ A sound somewhere between a laugh and a grunt came from Vogelaar. ‘Let’s be frank now, there’s no way you came here because you were seriously concerned about my survival.’

‘Of course not. Especially not after the meat-slicer incident.’

‘Well, how was I supposed to know who you were?’

‘You could have asked.’

‘Asked? Are you right in the head? You forced your way into my kitchen and attacked me!’

‘Well, after you—’

‘Good God, what was I supposed to do? What would you have done in my position? Nyela phoned and told me that two clowns were sitting in my restaurant pretending to be restaurant critics.’

‘See!’ said Yoyo, triumphantly. ‘I told you—’

‘ That wasn’t the problem, little one! You were the problem. Your little slip of the tongue. No one here knows anything about our time in Equatorial Guinea. Nyela is from Cameroon and I’m a South African Boer. The Donners were never in Equatorial Guinea.’

Yoyo looked embarrassed.

‘Did you watch the films from the security camera?’ Jericho wanted to know.

‘Aha, so you noticed the camera?’

‘I’m a detective.’

‘Of course I looked at them. I’m prepared for everything, boy. I had actually hoped to live out the rest of my life in peace here. New identity, new home. But Kenny doesn’t give up. The bastard has never given up yet.’

‘Do you think the text came from him?’

‘What I think is that you should untie me right away, or you can figure the rest of it out by yourself.’

And so, with an uneasy feeling, he had untied Vogelaar while Yoyo covered him with the gun. But the only thing the South African did was go next door and put palm wine, rum and coke on the table. He then proceeded to listen to their story as he led one cigarillo after another to its cremation.

‘What kind of deal did Kenny offer you?’ asked Jericho as he gulped down a glass of rum he felt was more than well-earned.

‘A kind of second Wonga coup.’

‘Not exactly a good omen.’

‘Yes, but the circumstances had changed. Ndongo wasn’t Obiang, and he certainly wasn’t as closely guarded. Practically all the key positions in his government had been bought by the USA and Great Britain. It’s just that money doesn’t make a good building block, not in the long term, anyway. You have to constantly replaster it, otherwise the place will collapse above your head. And besides, Ndongo was a Bubi. The Fang only got involved with him because they’d been having just as bad a time of it, and things threatened to be even worse under Mayé. Back then, APS operated along the entire west coast of Africa. In Cameroon, we were protecting oil plants against the resistance. It was in Jaunde that I met Nyela, by the way, the first woman who inspired me to bring some kind of order into my life.’

‘Is she really called Nyela?’ asked Yoyo.

‘Are you crazy?’ snorted Vogelaar. ‘No one uses their real name if their life is at stake. In any case, one beautiful day I arrive in my office, and there sits Kenny, waiting to explain the Chinese interests to me.’ Vogelaar puffed away, veiling himself in smoke. ‘He had this strange way of switching terminology when it came to his clients. Sometimes he spoke about the Communist Party, sometimes about the Secret Service, and at others it sounded like he was there in the service of the State oil trade. When I demanded a little more clarity, he wanted to hear my thoughts on the difference between governments and companies. I thought about it and realised there wasn’t one. Strictly speaking, I haven’t found one in over forty years.’

‘And Kenny suggested a coup.’

‘The Chinese were quite bitter about the American presence in the Gulf of Guinea. Remember that we’re talking about the time before helium-3; the area was like pure gold back then. Besides that, they felt they were entitled to something that Washington had helped itself to since time immemorial. I tried to make Kenny realise that there was a difference between protecting governments from guerrillas and actually overthrowing them. I told him about the Wonga Coup, about Simon Mann, how he was rotting in Black Beach because of it, and how the Briton had made himself look like a complete fool. He responded by sharing information about the overthrow of the Saudi Arabian royal family the year before, and I almost passed out. It had been obvious to all of us, of course, that China had supported the Saudi Islamists, but if what Kenny told me is true, then Beijing did more than just provide a little assistance. Believe me, I can smell bullshit from ten miles away upwind. Kenny wasn’t bullshitting. He was telling the truth, and so I decided to carry on listening to him.’

‘I guess he was on excellent terms with Mayé.’

‘They were certainly in contact. In 2016, Kenny was still in second rank, but I knew right away that the guy would soon pop up in a more exposed position.’ Vogelaar laughed softly. ‘If you meet him, he actually seems like a nice guy. But he’s not. He’s at his most dangerous when he’s pretending to be nice.’

‘Can anyone be nice in this business?’ asked Yoyo.

‘Of course. Why not?’

‘Well, take mercenaries for example.’ She shrugged. ‘I mean, aren’t they all more or less – erm – racists?’

Good God, Yoyo, thought Jericho, what are you playing at? Vogelaar slowly turned his head to face her and let smoke billow out of the corner of his mouth. He looked like a huge, steaming animal.