Richard House - The Kills

‘And for your brother-in-law, has he made much trouble?’

‘I really don’t know. Henning takes it all pretty seriously. It’ll probably blow over, but Henning is the kind of man who’d feel obliged to tell someone about it. And that would be very unwise. It’s just a bad situation. Mattaus said he recognized your name?’

‘It’s common. Berens. Not so rare.’

Rike shakes her head. That wasn’t it, he recognized the name. Placed it.

‘Sometimes it’s a first name. But in German it’s a shortened version of “baron” which means “freeman”. In Norwegian it’s a little different and it means “bear”, wild bear.’

The question or statement about her brother is lost, and if she even thinks about it now, which he doubts, she’ll imagine that the subject is closed.

Rike starts the lesson and the idea of going somewhere else is passed over. ‘Today,’ she says, ‘we talk about aspirations. What I would like, what I hope for. What I would want to see.’ These are, she says, conditional clauses. Tough to master, and she would like to see him demonstrate them.

This is almost too easy now. Tomas uses the example, Finn Cullman in Naples. It’s satisfying to find a use for it.

‘I’ve always wanted to write,’ he says, ‘not fiction but real stories. What has happened to other people. This is what I like to read. I’ve taken it seriously and once I hired a researcher, but he took advantage of me. It didn’t go so well.’

Rike nods as she listens.

‘I think it would be good to write about something current. I don’t know, but it is interesting to me, the stories you have been telling me about this man they found in the desert. It is always more interesting when these stories are true, no?’

Rike agrees. It is much more interesting.

‘I mean you have to wonder who he really is, and why he walked so far. What would make someone do that. I think that would be interesting. To nervier people who are involved. To investigate. I don’t know. Maybe even help.’ He stops short of making a more direct appeal and turns the conversation to another subject.

By the end of the session Rike is looking pleased. ‘Tomorrow,’ she says, ‘we should try that mozzarella.’

‘Tomorrow,’ Tomas answers, ‘the weather is supposed to stay nice. We should do something different.’

He isn’t sure just what to suggest, but one more opportunity to learn something from her, to take her close to the military base to prompt more information on Sutler. ‘There is a beach you know. Lady’s Mile. You like to swim?’

Rike, suddenly coy, says that she likes to swim very much. Tomorrow, then, it is agreed, a picnic, a swim, at Lady’s Mile beach.

* * *

After the lesson Tomas watches Rike walk up the street. This is wasting time. He should be more direct. Even with the suggestion posed today he can’t guarantee that she will return with any information. He looks out toward the hospital and waits for a call from Geezler, knowing instinctively that there is little time to waste. Tomas has everything he needs. From this point he needs to work decisively, with intent.

Geezler has unsettling news from Italy. ‘They have a photograph of you. Parson’s wife took a photograph and she has passed it on to the police. If they make this public, it’s a possible problem. The picture is clear, it looks like you. Even in Cyprus I think you’ll have a difficult time explaining this.’

They discuss their options. Information from Rike has been limited. It isn’t working as expected. Geezler decides: stop wasting time on the sister, use the brother. Mattaus. Tonight.

11.5

Tomas isn’t properly dressed for a night out. He unbuttons the top two shirt buttons, untucks the tail, smooths his hair. At the Bank of Cyprus, he draws out cash then heads to the club. By the time he arrives Mattaus will be settled with the same group as before. Lexi will be roaming, collecting money. At some early hour they will return to Larnaca. He does not doubt that their evenings follow the same pattern.

Tomas walks with one hand in his pocket, more self-conscious than usual, given the possibility that he could be recognized and associated with Parson’s death. The air, sweet with grilled meats from the roadside restaurants, reminds him that he hasn’t eaten. It’s easy to forget those details. The harbour lights darken at the kerb, so the sea is hidden but present as a faint, over-ripe stink of fish, or fish waste.

When he arrives at the club he finds Mattaus and Lexi on the sidewalk ready to leave. Mattaus, highly animated, aggravated, in conversation with Lexi. Lexi’s face is long, his jaw sharpened by a slight overbite. He appears sulkier than before and weary. He holds his hand out to halt a car, his car, and takes the keys without a word. Tomas has as good as lost them.

* * *

He searches through the club for Kolya. As he comes up the stairs Tomas can feel the music pulse in his chest. Blood-red walls, heat, and a synthetic heartbeat, is that what makes these places so familiar? Kolya isn’t about, instead he finds the boy, Sol, and lets him know that he wants to speak with Kolya. Can he set this up? He can do that, right?

The boy looks surprised. If it’s about the card game, the money, it would be better for Tomas to leave everything alone. Just forget it.

‘This is about something else. I think he’ll want to hear this.’

Sol pauses, still doubtful, but Tomas assures him this is for Kolya’s benefit.

‘Someone is stealing from the club.’ Tomas makes a gesture like he isn’t bothered either way, and the boy slips away.

Sol returns immediately with Kolya, who invites Tomas to a booth. Tonight the man wears a white singlet which shows a tattoo on either shoulder: the talons of a beast mounting his back, the nails piercing the skin.

He asks Tomas if he would like a drink. Tomas immediately asks after Lexi. ‘The manager from the other club. The man who deals with the money.’

Kolya has a scar on his neck, a small, smooth puncture. He asks why they are talking about Lexi. The men lean toward each other to be heard over the music.

‘How much do you think you’re losing each night?’ Tomas’s voice is strained. ‘How much do you think he’s taking? You think he takes from both clubs? Or maybe just yours?’

Kolya coughs into his hand and asks what Tomas is talking about.

‘The other manager, who collects the money. Do you have any idea how much he’s taking?’

Tomas can’t help but stretch his neck, twist his head from side to side. He waits for the music to change so that he does not need to shout. ‘I’m here for the German, the man he brings here. I can tell you how he’s doing this. But I want the German. I want to know where his friend is staying.’

‘What is your interest in this?’

‘It’s separate. This is something different. I need to know where he is staying.’

Kolya folds his arms. ‘So how? How is this happening?’

Tomas rubs his face, takes his time to answer. ‘It’s simple. He collects the money himself. How long is he here before he goes to the other club? Two hours? Three. So he collects the takings every hour, two or three times a night. You have no record of what is coming in, except what you collect yourself at the end.’

Kolya begins to smile and it occurs to Tomas that he is making a mistake. It’s entirely possible that he hasn’t witnessed a theft at all, but something which can be otherwise explained. It’s possible that the theft is of no consequence, both managers appear to run a little renegade: Lexi’s thievery, Kolya’s gambling.