The Boy in the Suitcase - Lene Kaaberbol [105]
“What is he doing here?” he asked the Lithuanian. And at that moment the truth began to dawn on him, like a series of flashes at the back of his mind. The Lithuanian had never meant to deliver a neat little transplantable organ. How could he? He didn’t have access to the doctors or the technology for an operation like that. The suitcase Karin was supposed to pick up at the railway station … it had never contained an organ box. It had contained a living child.
Karin.
No wonder she had freaked.
A rush of pain went through him, and a bizarre image invaded his mind. It was as if he had ordered a steak at a restaurant and had been presented with a cow and a meat cleaver instead.
“Not like that,” he said to the Lithuanian, hoarsely. “You didn’t say it was a living child.”
“Perfect match,” said the Lithuanian. “Same father, same mother. Now you pay.”
“Of course,” said Jan, somehow managing to keep any sign of tremor from his voice. “Let’s go upstairs again. You’ll get your money.”
The Lithuanian switched off the light. The child hadn’t moved at all, and Jan felt a stab of pity for the poor kid.
“DOLLARS,” SAID THE man. “Not … that.” He pointed the gun at Jan’s laptop.
“But I can transfer the money to an account only you have access to,” tried Jan, but he could see that it was useless. Glowing numbers on a computer display wasn’t money in the Lithuanian’s world. “I don’t have that much cash lying around!”
The man came closer, still with Aleksander in his grip. Casually, as though Aleksander were a toy he had almost forgotten about.
“You said you had the money ready.”
“And so I did. But Karin took it.”
“Karin?”
“The one you—” he stopped himsef short of saying “killed.” It might not be a good idea to bring that up now. “The one at the cottage. She had it. It’s not my fault that you couldn’t find it.”
Out of the corner of his mind, he saw Anne stir. Don’t move, he thought, as if he could reach her telepathically. Don’t make him see you, don’t make him notice you right now.
The other woman said something in Lithuanian. She wriggled, trying to get free, he supposed. The man snapped something at her, and she stopped struggling. She too had been crying, he could see.
“She didn’t know where it was,” said the Lithuanian, facing Jan once more. “She would have said.” He raised the gun and pointed it at Aleksander’s head. “Last chance. Don’t fuck with me.”
Jan opened his mouth, but no words came, no sound. Aleksander may die because this idiot doesn’t understand about money transfers, he thought, feeling his world shift beneath him. He crouched a little lower and considered a flying tackle; go for the gun, make him let go of Aleksander, something, anything, anything except this suffocating feeling of helplessness.
“I know where the money is,” said Anne suddenly, in crystal clear and perfect English.
The Lithuanian looked at her rather than Jan now. Possibly considering whether Anne might be telling the truth.
Dammit, Anne, thought Jan. Can’t you see that this is not the kind of man you can bluff?
“It’s not true,” he said quickly. “She doesn’t know anything about any of this.”
But the man had taken a box cutter from the tool box wreckage. He cut the duct tape so that Anne could sit up. Blood was trickling down one wrist from an accidental cut, but she didn’t even seem to notice it.
“Show me,” said the giant.
Anne nodded. “I’ll get it,” she said. “It won’t take a minute.”
A few moments later she was back with two heavy yellow manila envelopes. Jan looked on in disbelief as she upended them and let thick green bundles of thousand-dollar notes tumble out onto the floor.
Anne had taken the money. Not Karin. The discovery made the blood pound in his ears.
“Anne … what … why?”
The Lithuanian was staring down at the money, and for the moment, at least, didn’t seem to care that they were speaking Danish.
“It’s now been two years since I decided to leave you,” said Anne. “Do you know why I couldn’t go? Because of that bloody kidney machine in the basement. But when I saw that case on Karin’s bed with all that money inside,