The Nostradamus prophecies

25

‘The police are watching you.’

Sabir raised his head from the pillow. It was Alexi. It was obvious, however, that if Sabir expected any mention of – or even an apology for – that morning’s proceedings, he would have to wait a very long time indeed.

‘What do you mean, watching me?’

‘Come.’

Sabir rose and followed Alexi out of the caravan. Two children, a boy and a girl, were waiting outside, their faces tense with suppressed excitement.

‘These are your cousins, Bera and Koine. They have something to show you.’

‘My cousins?’

‘You are our brother now. These are your cousins.’

Sabir wondered for a moment whether Alexi was having him on. By the time he had gathered his wits together and had realised that no sarcasm was intended, it was too late to offer to shake hands with his new family, for the children had gone.

Alexi had already started walking towards the periphery of the camp. Sabir hurried to catch up with him.

‘How do you know it’s the police?’

‘Who else would be watching you?’

‘Who else indeed?’

Alexi stopped in his tracks. Sabir watched as his face gradually changed expression.

‘Look, Alexi. Why would the police bother to keep me under observation? If they knew I was here they would simply come in and pick me up. I am wanted for murder, don’t forget. I can’t see the Surete playing a waiting game with me.’

They had reached the ridge behind the camp. The children were pointing towards a gorse bush.

Alexi ducked down and wriggled his way underneath the bush. ‘Now. Can you see me?’

‘No.’

‘You come and do it.’

Alexi made way for Sabir, who eased himself beneath the thorns. Straight away he encountered an indentation which allowed him to slide down underneath the bush and emerge, head forwards, the other side.

Sabir instantly saw what Alexi was getting at. The entire camp was within his line of vision, but it was a virtual impossibility for anyone inside the camp to see him in turn. He backed awkwardly out of the den.

‘The children. They were playing panschbara. That’s when you draw a grid in the sand with a stick and then throw a bicycle chain into it. Bera threw the chain too far. When he ducked down to collect it, he found this place. You can see that it is freshly made – not a blade of grass to be seen.’

‘You understand now why I don’t think it’s the police.’ Sabir found himself trying to weigh Alexi up. Estimate his intelligence. Judge whether he might be of use in what lay ahead.

Alexi nodded. ‘Yes. Why would they wait? You are right. They want you too badly for that.’

‘I must talk to Yola. I think she has some explaining to do.’