The Bach Manuscript

Chapter 51

The procession of vehicles was visible to the naked eye from a long way off. The sunlight peeking freshly out from the dissipating rainclouds glinted off glass and paintwork as they coiled their way closer along the approach road to the compound. Through his binoculars Ben counted eight of them, black, boxy, top-of-the-line SUVs with tinted glass. Moving single-file like a military convoy. Fat all-terrain tyres throwing up dirty spray from the puddles left by the rain. Headlights blazing like a twenty-one-gun salute, even in the renewed brightness of the afternoon.

‘Hello,’ Madison said. ‘We most definitely have company.’

‘Quite a bit of it.’

‘Bring it on,’ she replied. ‘I’m dying of boredom here.’

Ben lost sight of the convoy as it reached the ring of trees. He anticipated the moment the lead vehicle would reappear close to the compound perimeter, and regained visual contact. The convoy slowed to a halt at the closed gates. Either they were dead on time for a prearranged rendezvous or someone had radioed ahead to say they were incoming, because the guards seemed to be alerted to the imminent arrival. The woods patrols converged towards the gates while four more armed men emerged from the block building and came running to greet the new arrivals.

The gates were unlocked and hauled open. When the last of the line had passed through, the guards closed and relocked the gates. The new four trotted after the vehicles as they drove up towards the red house. The original four split back up into pairs and returned to their patrol duties.

‘What do you think’s up?’ Madison asked.

To Ben’s eye, going by the body language and behaviour of the guards, the developments down below looked exactly like the arrival of some kind of top brass or VIP dignitary at a military base. It wasn’t Kožul. Something else was happening. ‘Looks like a meeting,’ he said. ‘Ulysses told you Kožul does business at the house?’

‘That’s what he said.’

‘Maybe that’s what this is. We’ll soon find out.’

Ben and Madison crept along the rocky ridge to find the best elevated observation point overlooking the house. At this range, the high-powered field binoculars on maximum zoom offered a crystal-clear view of the front.

The SUVs pulled up in an orderly line along the red terrace wall. Black bodywork flashed in the sunlight as doors opened. Men stepped out. Ben scanned left and right, trying to count heads before they all started disappearing inside the house. He’d counted nine when he recognised the man in the white shirt. Kožul’s guy, Alek. Except now he was clad in a black polo and a grey suit that hung well off his slender frame. He’d been in charge of the men last night and he was clearly in charge today, issuing orders to the gorillas stepping out of the SUVs. There were enough weapons on display to fill the armoury at Le Val.

As Ben watched, Alek walked over to the third vehicle in the line and opened the back door. A tall and slightly stooped man in a linen suit got out, clutching an attaché case that had been laid flat across his knees during the drive. He appeared disorientated and unsteady on his feet, probably because of the black cloth hood he was wearing over his head. Once again, Kožul was being extra-cautious about protecting the location of his home base.

‘Not one of the crew, that’s for damn sure,’ Madison muttered. ‘It’s definitely some kind of meet going down.’

Alek took the visitor’s arm to steady him, turned him towards the house and then reached up and removed the cloth hood. Ben focused his binoculars carefully on the visitor’s face. He was older, completely bald, gaunt and grim. The Boris Karloff look.

Alek ushered the visitor from the vehicle towards the house, making apologetic gestures and being as courteous and attentive as a manservant. Maybe the guy was some big cheese they didn’t want to upset too much. Or maybe Alek was just lulling him into a false sense of security before whipping out a box cutter and slashing his throat. You could never tell with these people.

Madison touched Ben’s arm and said, ‘Ben, look.’

The front door of the house had opened and out of it, stepping into the sunlight to meet the arrivals, came one of the shortest adult men Ben had ever seen. He couldn’t have been much over five-feet-nothing in height, but he made up for it in width and muscle mass, both of which were considerable. He might have given the impression of a grotesque child bodybuilder, if it hadn’t been for the swarthy complexion and weathered features of a man around 50. He was wearing mirror shades that glinted in the light and was clad from head to toe, all five feet of him, in crimson red that matched the house. A human pillar box.

‘Zarko Kožul,’ Ben said. His guess about the crime boss being a little guy had been nearer to the mark than he could have imagined.

‘It’s the small ones you need to watch out for,’ Madison said. ‘Goes for snakes and scorpions, too.’

Kožul’s body language wasn’t that of a happy man. He was doing a good deal of pointing and yelling as his heavies milled protectively around him. He didn’t appear to extend the same degree of courtesy towards the bald-headed visitor with the attaché case as Alek. Privileges of rank, perhaps.

The last in the line of black SUVs was also the last to open its doors. As its occupants stepped out, Ben swivelled the binocs to take a look at their faces. ‘Well well,’ he murmured.

Dragan Vuković and his sister, Lena, walked towards the house. Lena was looking nervy and uncomfortable in a short, sleeveless red dress and must have been freezing in the cold breeze. Her brother had the swagger of confidence in his step as though he was completely in his element. He was wearing a dark cotton jacket over jeans, a smart-casual look that was a big departure from his usual pick of the Thugs R Us catalogue. Alek must have taken him out shopping somewhere fashionable.

‘Who’s the chick?’ Madison asked.

‘Her name’s Lena Vuković. She’s on the edge of the gang. The big fellow with her, that’s her brother. Looks like he brought little sister along as window dressing.’

‘The brother’s the guy you have the beef with, right?’

Ben nodded. ‘He certainly is.’

Kožul gave Dragan a cursory wave of acknowledgement, and Ben saw Dragan smile the way a dog wags its tail at a pat from its master. Then Kožul turned towards the house and motioned impatiently for everyone to follow. The small crowd began filtering inside. The four guards remained outside the house, manning the front like sentries.

‘There they go,’ Madison said. ‘All the eggs are in the basket. You ready to do this now?’

‘I was born ready,’ Ben said. He put away the binoculars and snatched up the crossbow.

Madison flashed him a piratical grin. ‘So what’re we waiting for, bud. Let’s rock the house.’