The Black Shepherd Page 6

  She unclipped the karabiner and let the rope dangle free.

  Without a word the brute began to raise the rope into the last circle of light she feared she’d ever see.

  ‘How long?’ she called up.

  He didn’t answer.

  An iron lid clanged down over the hole with a weight of finality as it slammed closed, burying her down there.

  There was no light.

  Her ragged breathing filled the darkness.

  She heard the muffled sound of retreating footsteps, and the closing of a door, putting a second barrier between her and the world. No one was going to hear her scream.

  She would not be afraid.

  She wouldn’t allow herself to give in to fear.

  She would control her breathing, her heart. She would centre her being. She would survive this ordeal. She would please The Shepherd. She would not fail him.

  But all she wanted to do was sob.

  Would they hear her?

  Would they punish her failure?

  No. She dug deep, casting aside any last remnants of doubt and fear. She would leave the past completely behind her and be born again, emerging from this hole when she was whole and new and ready to embrace the family body and soul.

  She was hungry for that.

  She had come such a long way. All she wanted out of this life was to find contentment in the loving arms of her family. To be one with them. One world. One family. She didn’t need anything else.

  She took a shuffling step, her arms outstretched, feeling for the limits of the space that had become her entire universe. One, two, three, four, five tiny steps before her fingertips brushed against the cold damp clay wall.

  She brushed her hands over the surface. There was something harder to it, old clay bricks, the coarse mortar and plaster exposed around them dragged beneath her nails. Slowly, she inched along, exploring. The wall was curved, like a well. She felt disorientated, struggling to work out the size of the hole. There was only darkness and confusion. All it had taken to remove the foundation of her life, numbers, from her mind, was a few minutes in the dark.

  She fought down the panic.

  Her foot caught something. It clattered and rolled away from her. She crouched down, fumbling around to try and find whatever it was.

  Her hands rubbed against a hard earth floor, feeling out, questing. Eventually she found the metal bucket. It carried the faint aroma of disinfectant that masked something more unpleasant.

  She hadn’t considered the practicalities of the hole.

  It was her toilet, the reek that still clung to the metal a reminder of the hole’s last inhabitant.

  She set it down, close to the wall.

  And then she heard the moving rats in the darkness.

  The test really had begun.

  TEN

  Tasha spotted her eventually.

  She waved and beamed a big smile at Frankie. Her own smile was a little smaller, a little more tentative.

  The queue moved quickly. It was not long before it was her turn to be given her bowl of porridge and mug of coffee. As the woman had promised last night, it was nothing fancy but it was warm and filling.

  ‘Glad you found us,’ Tasha said.

  ‘You were the best offer in town,’ Frankie said. ‘It was you or a couple of hours in the company of a particularly talkative tree in the park.’

  She glanced over her shoulder. There were only a couple of people remaining in the queue. She stepped to one side to let them get to the counter to be served.

  ‘Don’t rush off when you’ve finished,’ Tasha said. ‘Maybe we could have a chat?’

  ‘Sure.’ Frankie grabbed a spoon and made her way back outside to where crates were being used as chairs like this was some hipster chic little coffeehouse down by the water.

  The man with the dog, Tino, sat nearby, surreptitiously feeding the animal a spoonful for each one he took. He gave her a nod. Tino took it as an invitation to wander over and say hello. It was a simple little thing, but as she leaned down to scruff at the nape of his neck, she felt like she belonged, as though she’d passed some sort of test and become part of this group of kindred souls.

  She felt like such a fraud.

  She looked around. There were a few subtle signs that suggested the soup kitchen was being supported by One World, but no big overt signs or banners. The logo was printed on the mug she drank from, and no doubt she’d see it mirrored at the bottom of the bowl once she’d finished. It was clever. Not exactly subliminal, but not in your face, either. It got the word out without ramming it down anyone’s throat. No one wants to be preached at when they’re taking charity. It’s humbling enough just to cross the threshold and hold out your hands for help.

  There were a few flyers on a trestle table, but no one took one.

  Most of the homeless had begun to drift away by the time Tasha came to sit with her, carrying a mug of her own.

  ‘Time to close up?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘Soon,’ Tasha said. ‘There will be a few more stragglers over the next half an hour or so. That’s the usual pattern.’ Tasha took a sip of her coffee. ‘We’ve always been able to give everyone who turns up something at least, we pride ourselves on that. There’s always something for the hungry, even if we’ve got to run to the store for bread and cheese so we can make toasted sandwiches. Everyone gets something inside them.’

  ‘What you’re doing, it’s really important.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘How long have you been feeding people?’

  ‘Here? Almost a year. Some people come back twice a day, they’ve come to rely on us. Others we see now and again. Some we only ever see once. Everyone deserves a little help to turn their life around. Some are just passing through, like you.’

  For one fleeting moment Frankie wondered if the woman had seen through her and somehow knew she wasn’t what she claimed to be.

  ‘And you’re here every day?’

  ‘There’s always a team of us, not always me. We’re always looking for people to lend a hand, if you’re hanging around.’

  ‘I don’t know how long I’ll be here.’

  ‘That’s OK. Honestly. But if you think you could give us a hand tonight, well, that would be great. Added bonus, you wouldn’t have to sleep in a shop doorway.’

  Frankie looked up from her mug, not entirely sure what was on offer here.

  Seeing her confusion, Tasha smiled. ‘Don’t get too excited. We’ll be here until late, probably two, two-thirty, so a couple of us usually sleep in the back of the van for a few hours before we open up again for the morning. It’s the same team tonight and tomorrow morning, then tomorrow night another team relieves us. It makes sense.’

  ‘Women only?’

  ‘In the van? Of course. There are men involved in the organization, but we find that it works better this way.’

  ‘OK, I’m going to be rude now, but honestly, how can you afford to do all this? It must cost a fortune to keep this going twice a day, even if the day-to-day is run by volunteers.’

  ‘We’re funded by a charitable organization,’ Tasha said. She took another sip of her coffee. The logo was there for all to see. She waved goodbye to one of the rough-sleepers over Frankie’s shoulder. ‘Have you heard of One World?’

  ‘One World? Is that some religious thing? I’m not big on the whole God thing,’ she said, shrugging an apology.

  Tasha offered Frankie a slightly patronizing smile. ‘Not religious, I promise you. It’s more spiritual. They do a lot of good work in the community. We’re not their only initiative in Tallinn. There are shelters, a women’s refuge, all sorts of things aimed to try and provide some little comfort to the lost. There’ll be someone here tonight if you’d like to find out more about what they do.’

  Frankie shrugged, noncommittally.

  ‘No catch, I promise.’

  ‘In that case, it can’t hurt, I suppose.’

  ELEVEN

  Annja Rosen listened t
o the message as soon as she left the lecture hall.

  She had found it hard to concentrate, and harder to follow as the professors worked through their coding challenges. Irma, on the other hand, had always been a bit of a savant with a computer in front of her. She was just naturally gifted and understood the structures of good code. More often than not she’d go over it with Annja back in the flat, talking it over with her until she finally understood. And she always made it seem so easy. She could see the strengths and weaknesses of a single piece of code and extrapolate it in ways that Annja couldn’t. She could plug holes in a system’s defences before anyone else even understood there were holes, whereas Annja had to work hard and bend her brain to deal with this stuff. Still, as a graduate she’d get a good job.

  The university attracted students from all over Estonia and beyond, laying a strong claim to being the best of the best as far as these ex-Soviet states were concerned.

  ‘Hi, Annja,’ the man’s voice said. He spoke in English, no doubt a little slower than he would normally speak, but she had no trouble in understanding him. ‘My name is Peter Ash.’ He explained how he wanted to meet up for a chat.

  She had hoped she was finished with it all after she’d talked to Kask. He hadn’t seemed concerned or all that interested about Frankie Varg’s initial approach. Indeed, he’d confirmed she was law enforcement so she couldn’t see any reason not to meet Ash.

  She called him back as soon as she was away from the rush of bodies trying to make their way across the quad between buildings.

  ‘It’s Annja,’ she said. ‘Annja Rosen. I can meet you tomorrow at eleven if that works for you. There’s a cafe opposite the cathedral, the Alexander Nevsky. I can take my break at eleven, but I won’t have long I’m afraid. Fifteen minutes or so. Is that OK?’

  She had blurted it all out without taking a breath.

  ‘That sounds fine,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we can get it sorted in fifteen minutes, probably less. As long as this place serves good coffee we’re good. I’ll be there early. There’s a slice of cake in it for you.’

  ‘No need.’

  ‘I insist, really.’

  ‘No, I meant there’s no need to get there early,’ she explained. ‘I work there, part time. Coffee and cake on the house. I’ll make sure there’s a quiet table.’

  ‘Perfect. See you at eleven then.’

  TWELVE

  It was mid-afternoon by the time Mirjam Rebane called back.

  Back in his hotel, Peter had spent a couple of hours catching up on stuff Laura had sent through from Division.

  ‘Good news,’ she promised him. ‘I’ve managed to find someone willing to talk to you.’

  ‘That’s great, I can’t thank you enough,’ he said. ‘When and where?’

  ‘I’ll pick you up outside your hotel. Seven.’

  ‘There’s no need.’

  ‘There’s every need. He’s only prepared to talk to you because I’m vouching for you. You don’t see him without me there with you.’

  ‘Fair enough. I’m staying at the—’

  ‘Don’t worry, I know where you’re staying,’ she said with a soft chuckle. ‘You’re not the only detective in town. I hope you’re on expenses. You’ll be buying dinner.’

  He could still hear her laugh long after she had hung up. She’d got some cheek, which, to be honest, he liked. He was quite happy to pay, even if it wasn’t on expenses. Not that he expected the conversation to lead anywhere. Still, what was it they said, fake it until you make it? That worked with a bust, too.

  It wasn’t like Frankie was sending up the Bat Signal, which meant she had everything under control.

  He intended to take a walk around the city after dark, get a feel for the place. If Frankie was still sleeping rough he’d make sure she had something to eat and drink. They didn’t have to chat. He could just drop twenty euro in her lap like he was trying to clear his conscience if it looked like she was making inroads.

  Peter still had a couple of hours to kill, but absolutely nothing to fill it with. According to her geotag Frankie had spent most of the morning down by the docks. The little beacon that marked her presence had barely moved. If it wasn’t for the fact he’d picked up her signal around the city centre a few hours later he’d have worried she’d ditched the phone and was out there, cut adrift. But she’d obviously made some sort of contact down there, because looking at his phone now it was pretty obvious she was heading back towards the docks.

  He switched modes and put a call through to Laura back in Division.

  ‘Evening, Law.’

  ‘How’s the Baltic?’

  ‘Bracing.’

  ‘And the digs?’

  ‘Nice enough, but next time maybe we can spring for a sea view?’

  ‘In your dreams,’ she said.

  ‘Has Frankie checked in?’

  ‘A few minutes ago.’

  ‘Anything of interest?’

  ‘She’s already cosy with a woman from One World. They made contact last night, invited her to visit their soup kitchen this morning. They’ve asked her to help out this evening.’

  ‘Lucky break.’

  ‘No such thing. Frankie had to sleep in a doorway and get pissed on to make contact, Peter.’

  ‘Pissed on? The fuckers.’

  ‘Yep. The guy doesn’t know how lucky he was to walk away. She told me she barely stopped herself from chasing him down and breaking both his legs.’

  ‘That’s the Frankie we know and love.’

  ‘This One World woman obviously saw it happen. So it bought Frankie some sympathy. What about you?’

  ‘I’ve touched base with Annja Rosen. We’re meeting tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Good. How did she sound?’

  ‘Shy, nervous. Like this was the last thing she wanted to be doing. We’re meeting in the cafe where she works. I’m hoping the familiar surroundings will relax her. You know me, kid gloves.’

  ‘I know you,’ she said, though it didn’t sound like that was a hundred per cent positive thing. ‘Anything on the body from the woods?’

  The call had very smoothly turned into a debrief. Laura was settling into her role, he realized. He wanted to say good for her, but figured it’d just make her self-conscious so kept his cheerleading to himself.

  ‘I met the investigating officer who’s been lumbered with it.’

  ‘Mirjam Rebane.’

  ‘She spoke very highly of you.’

  ‘You know, I’m never quite sure whether you’re taking the piss.’

  ‘Deadly serious. You’ve got a fan. I think she wants to be you when she grows up.’

  ‘Funny man.’

  ‘She’s picking me up later. We’re going to meet someone from the Russian community. A runaway, I think.’

  ‘OK. Keep me looped in.’

  THIRTEEN

  Maksim Kask was starting to think he was shit out of luck.

  He didn’t like that feeling.

  He’d been watching the bus stop for the best part of an hour with students coming and going.

  It was a long shot. It had always been a long shot. There was nothing to suggest the girl was even in the university right now, never mind that she’d go straight home. For everything that it wasn’t, Tallinn was still a capital city. There was life in it. She was young. She could have been out half the night screwing some stranger up against a wall for all he knew, or passing around a bong with a handful of other computer nerds talking about the latest madness of gamergate. It was a different life.

  But she had to come this way, either by bus or walking. He hadn’t missed her.

  As far as he knew, now that Irma Lutz was gone, Annja Rosen lived alone.

  That would make things easier.

  He would have preferred longer to prepare, but he didn’t have the luxury. She had to be taken care of tonight.

  Eventually he saw a lone student walking towards him, burdened with a stack of books almost as big as she was.

 
The heavens opened above them. A single slash of lightning jagged across the sky, and immediately in its wake, in that echoing silence that followed the crash of thunder, fat rain drops came down. Hard.

  He had to wait until she was closer before he could be sure that it was Annja Rosen, but as soon as he was, he turned the engine over and moved slowly towards the bus stop.

  Kask rolled down the window and called, ‘Annja!’

  She ignored him, hurrying along.

  He called again, and this time she turned. There was a moment where he thought she was going to bolt, then she recognized him.

  ‘Can I give you a lift?’

  He reached over and released the door, taking the choice away from her. It was the tiniest thing, but on such tiny things life and death pivot.

  The splash of rain across the leather interior made her mind up for her.

  She struggled to get inside, balancing the books, then managed to spill half of them into the footwell.

  She started to apologize, but he stopped her.

  ‘It’s fine. Buckle up. I’ll have you home in no time. Nice and dry. Lucky I saw you there.’

  She fumbled with the seat belt and finally managed to get it to click into place. ‘Lucky?’ she asked as he pulled away from the kerb.

  ‘Yeah, nothing important, really. I just wanted to let you know that I’ve managed to locate the statement you made and I’ve sent it over to Frankie Varg’s office. She’s probably got it by now.’

  ‘That’s good,’ Annja said. ‘But you could have called me. You didn’t have to drive all this way.’

  ‘It’s fine. It was on my way.’

  She didn’t reply.

  Annja stared straight ahead as the wipers tried to sluice the rain from the glass. In the couple of minutes they’d been in the car it had turned from a downpour into a deluge.

  A woman in a yellow coat ran into the road in front of him, not looking or not seeing him through the torrential rain. Kask hit the brakes, hard. Annja reached out a hand to brace herself against the dashboard. There was a moment when he thought the rubber wasn’t going to grip on the road and they were going to aquaplane into the woman, but mercifully, the wheels caught and the car stopped no more than a foot short of her.