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      Alfie chortled and nodded his head as he dragged on the joint.

      ‘Was good?’

      ‘Was great.’ Mann smiled. There was something instantly likeable about Alfie.

      ‘Stop smoking that shit.’ Magda scowled at Alfie. ‘We need to talk…’

      They walked into the L-shaped lounge, which looked like someone had hidden the mess rather than found a home for it. Alfie walked across the lounge and opened the balcony door. He took a few hard drags before blowing the smoke outwards and flicking the joint out over the side of the railing. Magda rolled her eyes.

      ‘You could hit someone on the head when you do that.’

      Alfie chortled. ‘They expect that kind of behaviour from this house. We are the trashy end of the street, remember?’ Alfie disappeared onto the balcony for a few minutes. He came back in and looked curiously at Mann. ‘The street was busy when you came tonight?’

      Mann nodded. Alfie studied him for a minute and then took off his jacket to reveal a still strong-looking man, but one who looked like he was on the cusp of loading on middle-age spread.

      Alfie was about to throw his leather jacket over the sofa until a glance from Magda told him that he should hang it up in the hall where it belonged.

      ‘We will sit in the kitchen. I need to show you some maps.’ She gestured towards the door that led off from the lounge.

      Alfie caught them up. The kitchen was organised clutter. Spider plants and saucepans on hooks. A collection of fifties cocoa tins. Kids’ drawings. There was no wall space left. Above the sink was a signed photo of Bob Marley—that had to be Alfie’s, smiled Mann.

      The kitchen table itself was covered with maps dotted with sticky notes. On the wall above the table there were photos. ‘Is that Jake?’ Mann asked, pointing to a picture of two lads, one obviously Oriental looking, and the other tall, blond.

      ‘Yes. Jake and Lucas have been friends forever. They have known one another since kindergarten. They are like brothers. Lucas’s dad is a single parent. He’s had mental health problems, depression. Lucas lives here most of the time.’

      Mann tried to make out what the boys were pointing to in the photos. ‘What’s that on their T-shirts?’

      ‘It’s a joke. When they were younger they loved to play the Super Mario game with the Budweiser advert in it. They say it to one another all the time—“Wassup”. We got some T-shirts done for them to take on the trip, just a joke, just something silly.’

      Magda turned away, her face collapsing as she struggled to keep a hold on her emotions. Below the picture of the boys was an article about the kidnap that had been cut from a newspaper, and there were photos of the five kitted out and ready to set off. Mann looked at Jake standing with his friends. They were all smiles. He had his backpack on, jeans, ‘Wassup’ T-shirt—all ready for his journey of a lifetime. Mann moved in closer to study his face—Magda was right, he did look like him. He had the same high cheekbones and Chinese eyes. He looked very young, thought Mann. Too young to die.

      Magda excused herself and seconds later Mann could hear her crying in another room. Alfie whispered across to Mann:

      ‘You had trouble? You left one man wounded on the street below? I saw his friend helping him.’

      ‘We were followed. Two sets of men. I would say unconnected. The two in Casa Roso were dressed in puffer jackets and jeans and the two who followed us back here wore dark suits, expensive coats. They were all Asian. I took this from one of the smart ones.’ Mann handed Alfie a business card.

      Alfie studied it. ‘This is from a shop in the Chinese district. I will check it out.’

      ‘Magda must have something they want, Alfie.’ Alfie shook his head and drew up his shoulders. ‘It’s got to be something that has to do with Jake’s kidnap.’

      ‘You lost me.’ Alfie shrugged again.

      ‘Was this flat Deming’s?’

      ‘He bought it for Magda.’

      ‘He used to stay here, right?’

      Alfie nodded.

      ‘When he died, he didn’t exactly have time to tie up loose ends. He was a man with lots of business concerns. Perhaps there’s something here of his. Have someone watch Magda at a distance. We have to find out what they want. And…Alfie, you have to trust me on this…I will go alone to find the kids.’

      Alfie nodded, resigned. ‘I understand. Magda wouldn’t make it anyway.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Magda has terminal cancer. We are living on borrowed time.’

       7

      Jake tried to make out Anna, but she was hidden in the dusky light and the dense forest ahead. Jake hated not being able to see her. She was being led by Toad. Saw had nineteen men altogether but three of them were his deputies. They had given them nicknames. Ditaka was the oldest. He was short and broad shouldered, battle-scarred. His skin was sagged and wrinkled like old leather. He was always muttering under his breath, always bad tempered. He was the one Saw turned to for advice—he was the wise one. The five had named him Toad because he had a wide, downturned mouth and boggle eyes.

      Anna looked behind her, as if she knew he was thinking of her, and she smiled. Her face was dirty, she was hot and tired, they were in a living hell, but she still smiled for him. Jake had realised in this last two weeks that he had always been in love with Anna. He had known her a long time but he had never realised what that feeling was in the pit of his stomach, every time he saw her. One morning, in the refugee camp, he watched her walk towards him, her laugh as clear as church bells—he realised that feeling was love.

      Behind him he could hear Thomas wheezing as he struggled to keep up. He was the youngest: he had just had his eighteenth birthday. Silke, his sister, was the oldest at twenty. With his goatee beard and his big limbs, Thomas always looked like the baby amongst them. He was a sci-fi enthusiast, always on the PC playing games when he was at home; he was a DJ in his spare time. That’s what he wanted to be when he finished college. Jake didn’t really know what career he wanted yet. He would be going back to study history and economics at university. He thought he wanted to be a businessman of some description, the next Bill Gates. He wanted to make a lot of money and travel and he wanted to marry Anna. She was his first love and he hoped she’d be his last. That thought sent a pain that shot through his heart and caught in his stomach, making him catch his breath as he realised that it might be the only love he would ever know if they were to die in this jungle. If so, he hoped he could die in Anna’s arms.

      Jake looked behind.

      ‘Come on, Thomas.’ Thomas was lagging behind again.

      Weasel was making pig noises at him. Weasel’s real name was Jao. He was stupid, cruel and warped. He was tall and thin and laughed like a girl. His teeth were spikes. In the evenings, when they stopped and the drink came out, he was the one who tortured the porters and instigated the trouble. СКАЧАТЬ