The Demon of Dakar - Kjell Eriksson [130]
The man in the Mercedes said that everything would be all right, that the old debts were no longer an issue, and that he was forgiven. All they wanted was for him to meet with an important person and apologize.
He had never been to the Fyris movie theater before, did not even know that it existed, and he did not understand the point of the movies that they were advertising.
As arranged, Zero stood outside the movie theater for a while before continuing on up the hill. Up ahead he could see tall trees and he knew he was supposed to go to the graveyard.
He hesitated at the entrance. The graveyard lay before him in complete darkness. There was a strong wind that was causing the trees to toss back and forth as if they were worried about what was going to happen.
He slipped in through a space in the fence. Gravel crunched underfoot. A sudden crack brought him to a halt, but it was only a branch that had broken off and was bouncing down through the canopy before landing on a grave.
Zero walked on. Nothing had been said about who he was to meet or what was going to happen, but he was convinced he was being watched. He rued his decision. He did not like walking among the dead. There was another crack overhead and Zero was convinced he was going to be struck in the head with a branch or be crushed by a falling tree.
Then he saw someone, partly obscured by gravestones, walking toward him. He stopped a couple of meters from Zero, who could not tell what he looked like except that he was a large man wearing a dark coat and with a hat pulled low over his eyes.
“Zero?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“It’s good that you came.”
The stranger’s soft voice in the strong wind forced Zero to walk closer, but the man put up his hand and drew back behind a bush.
“This is for enough,” he said. “We can speak like this.”
“Who are you?”
“That doesn’t matter. I only want to ask you to do something.”
No, Zero thought, I don’t want you to ask me to do something. But he had no time to protest before the man spoke again. He had a different voice from Sidström, deeper and more firm.
“I want you to go to the police and tell them what has happened.”
“Are you a cop?”
The man let out a laugh.
“I want you to go to the police and tell them who is selling drugs in this town.”
“But that’s me!”
“Who is behind it?”
“I don’t know that.”
“But I do,” said the man, and Zero saw his teeth glimmer momentarily in the light.
“They will kill me.”
“No, they won’t. You will not have to appear in public.”
Zero did not know what he meant.
“No one will have to know that it was you,” the man clarified.
Zero stared into the darkness and tried to get a sense of what the man looked like. He was no svartskalle, he spoke like a Swede, almost like a teacher.
“I don’t want to,” he said.
“I think you do. You don’t want to hide any longer, do you? You only want to put this episode behind you.”
Zero tried to say something, but the man gestured with his hand and continued.
“I know what you are thinking. You are wondering how much you will get for your trouble. Shall we say five thousand kronor. Cash. Now.”
“I’ll get five thousand?”
“Yes, and another five thousand when everything is done.”
Zero was speechless. It was a dizzying sum. For ten thousand he could go to Turkey and visit his father. Maybe there would be enough money to buy him out of prison?
“What should I do?”
“Easy. You will go to the police and ask for someone who works with drugs, understand? Tell them that you have repented, and that you were pulled into the drug business against your will. You did not want to sell drugs. You were threatened. And now you want to talk.”
The man told Zero what