An Autumn Hunting

Chapter 22

For a second Zakir looked confused, almost childlike, as he tried to work out what lay behind my simple request. Then, as the full force of my insult hit him and he snarled with rage, my boot connected with the side of his kneecap. Hard. His bellow of anger morphed into a howl of pain as he stumbled against the wall.

When it comes to fighting, whoever gets in the first, unexpected blow almost always wins. Do it like you mean it and it usually takes just one. You don’t bother waiting around to discuss exactly what’s troubling them; strike first.

‘You’re quicker off the mark than I’d taken you for,’ Aliyev said.

‘Being impetuous will be the death of me,’ I said, and it was only partly a joke.

Zakir was helped out of the room, hurling me a glare that promised a slow and agonising death at some future meeting.

‘Don’t worry, he’ll be able to play football in a couple of days,’ I said. ‘If I’d really been impetuous, I’d have shattered his kneecap, then kicked his head from between his shoulders.’

‘That’s the problem when you hire people with muscles, not brains,’ Aliyev said. ‘By the time they’ve geared up for action, anyone with quick wits has already removed the problem.’

He stared at me, the sort of look you give when you’re trying to assess just how great a threat someone might be. When he finally spoke, his words came as much of a shock to me as my toecap had come to Zakir.

‘You’ve ended your career in law enforcement. Conclusively, I would have said. How would you feel about coming to work for me?’

When I finally spoke, I was as cautious as I’d ever been with Tynaliev at his most threatening.

‘I’m not good at taking orders. You know what happened to my last boss. I can be rash, impulsive.’

‘I prefer to describe it as decisive,’ Aliyev said. ‘Assessing the situation, making a decision, considering the consequences, carrying it out.’

Praise of a sort, at least if you live without any sense of loyalty or decency, and if your code of ethics is as basic as ‘feed on the weak’.

‘I wanted to ask you,’ Aliyev continued, ‘what made you shoot the minister? You’d worked for him long enough without pulling the trigger. Tired of being his puppet?’

His casual tone was deceptive, but I’d had the ride among the sheep shit in the truck to work out an answer. Now I was about to find out if it was credible.

‘Have you ever considered suicide, pakhan?’ I asked. The question took Aliyev aback, but he shook his head.

‘If I’m going to die from a bullet – and I almost certainly am – I want it to be from someone else’s gun, not mine,’ Aliyev said.

‘Tynaliev wanted me involved in his crazy scheme, act as his go-between, his bodyguard, his patsy and his fall guy. I figured that gave me a career expectancy where I wouldn’t need to buy new shoes. I’d done a few things for the minister but they didn’t come with a guarantee of getting killed. But turning Tynaliev down wasn’t going to be a live and let live option either, not with what I knew of his plans. Killing him and going on the run seemed my best option. My only option.’

Aliyev nodded, as if what I’d said made sense, rather than the bullshit I knew it was.

‘Still a pretty big call, Inspector.’

‘I think it’s time we dropped my old job title, don’t you?’ I suggested.

‘I’ll keep it if you don’t mind,’ Aliyev said. ‘It will remind me of who you were, and, of course, to never underestimate you.’

I shrugged, as if I didn’t give a fuck one way or another. The past wasn’t going to complain. It was time to turn Aliyev’s attention away from me, give him something else to feel paranoid about.

‘Don’t you think…’ I started, then paused.

Aliyev raised an eyebrow. ‘Think what?’

I did my best to seem reluctant to speak.

‘We escaped the attack on the safe house. Now Zakir and I are never going to be best friends, but isn’t it a little surprising he managed to escape? Considering the amount of lead flying around?’

I let the barb sink in for a moment, knew Aliyev would consider possible scenarios.

‘Did anyone else survive? I haven’t seen anyone.’

‘I dare say Zakir can explain,’ Aliyev said, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ I agreed, ‘but all the same…’

‘You’ll find clean clothes upstairs in your room,’ Aliyev said. ‘Third door on the right. You might want to wash off the sheep shit as well. And now, if you’ll excuse me, Inspector?’

Once Aliyev left the room, I’d done my best to set Zakir up for a beating, at the very least, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel any remorse. He made a lousy cup of tea.