Deep Black

17

I had to speak up to be heard above the roar of the traffic. ‘What’s he doing in Iraq?’

We started to cross at a junction. ‘He’s not there yet – gets into Baghdad this Thursday for about a week. He’s going to give the Iraqis a wake-up call. He’s saying that the Sunni and the Shia need to unite, start controlling their own destiny. Believe me, Nick, this guy’s on his way to being Islam’s answer to Mahatma Gandhi.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Hasan Nuhanovic. He’s a cleric. Even the Serbs were worried about him. He survived the whole Bosnia thing, and he’s still walking on water. But only just – a lot of the “give war a chance” brigade, on both sides, want him dead. He’s very bad for business.’

I shrugged. ‘Still don’t know him.’

‘Exactly!’ Jerry beamed. ‘That’s the whole point. He shuns publicity. He’s not a personality-cult kinda guy. But his message is good, and I really believe that the right kind of picture will get it on to the world stage. You know he went to Pakistan and started a Coke boycott? Thing is, doing stuff like that, he ain’t gonna be breathing for much longer. I gotta be quick. I’ve been trying to track him down in Bosnia, but it would be easier to arrange tea with Karadic. In Baghdad he won’t have so many gatekeepers.’ He gripped my arm. ‘One last job, Nick, that’s all I want to do. Renee’s dead set against it, but it’s not a frontline shot. The picture of Chairman Mao was taken on a beach. Nuhanovic on the banks of the Tigris. No problem, no danger. A walk in the park.’

I wanted to tell him that I knew he was talking bollocks to sell the idea. But I was interested in Nuhanovic. There are some things you don’t forget, no matter how often you try to cut away, and watching him front up to Mladic at the cement works was one of them. ‘So what did this guy get up to in Bosnia?’

‘Some of the stories are just, like, amazing. I heard that he managed to stop a massacre some place north of Sarajevo. He actually confronted Mladic. No one seems to know what he said, but it seemed to get Mladic spooked. He let a whole bunch of prisoners go free.’

‘What’s happened with Mladic?’ I tried not to sound too interested in the Muslim. ‘They ever capture him? I’ve lost track of what’s going on over there.’

‘Nope, he’s still out there. Last I heard he was maybe holed up in a monastery in Montenegro. It’s only a rumour, but I heard that the Brits were just this far away –’ he showed me the minutest of gaps between his thumb and his forefinger ‘– from killing him during the war. That would have been kinda neat, eh? But get this – the International Court was about to be set up in The Hague, and they needed some high-profile players to put in the dock. That way everyone could feel that justice was being done after the war. Everybody would be happy – apart from the Bosnian Muslims, of course.’

I thought about Zina. I’d never forget the look on her face as she posed for me, just fifteen and daring to dream for a microsecond of being Kate Moss. Then I thought about her and thousands like her getting killed so justice could be seen to be done. Well, it wasn’t my kind of justice, but this wasn’t the time or the place . . . Fuck it, so what? That was over ten years ago. It’s all history now.

We stopped by the news-stand outside the Metro. ‘Good luck, mate. I hope you get to take your photograph, and when there’s world peace I’ll be blaming you for it.’ I put my hand out to shake his.

He hesitated. ‘You know what? Why don’t you come with me?’ He did his best to make me think the idea had only just occurred to him.

‘No, mate. I don’t do that sort of—’

‘Ah, come on. We’ll be there for a week at the most.’

I put my hand out again and this time he took it. ‘I’ve got to go, mate. I hope it all works out for you.’

‘I could do with a white guy out there, Nick.’ He looked me straight in the eye, and held my hand in both of his. ‘Think about it. Promise me that much. I’m going to London Saturday, got a deal going with the Sunday Telegraph. Then head for Baghdad Tuesday.’

He finally let go of my hand and pulled out his business card and a pen. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Nick, I’m offering you a job. How does ten per cent plus expenses sound to you?’

I didn’t want his money. I didn’t need anyone’s money. It wasn’t as if I had any more school fees to pay.

He gave me the pen and a second card and I wrote down my mobile number.

‘Listen,’ I passed the pen and card back, ‘here’s my number, but only so we can have another beer when you get back.’ I turned to go into the subway, fishing in my pocket for some coins to buy a token.

He called after me, ‘Think about it?’

I gave him a wave as I went through the barrier.