The Khan Saima Mir (best short novels TXT) 📖

he said, and then quickly moved on. ‘The scarves are soaked in a solution of the product at our factories by the border of Afghanistan, dried and then imported here as ordinary scarves. This plant is where we reconstitute the product.’

‘The product?’ asked Idris.

‘Monkey water,’ White Coat said. Idris looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to explain. For the son of a dealer, his drug terminology was limited. ‘You know, liquid heroin. We sell it by the syringe or in a dropper bottle. Costs a bit more to us but our contact at the needle exchange helps us keep prices low, and I figured the cleaner we keep our users, the bigger our market.’

Although both had known about this side of the city’s industry for years, they had not seen the operation first-hand until now. They were impressed and told White Coat as much. ‘That means so much to me,’ he said. ‘Please, come into my office. I’ve ordered tea.’

They agreed to his hospitality and took a seat in the sparsely decorated but highly organised office. Filing cabinets lined one side of the room. Planning charts, delivery dates and detailed drawings of operations lay across the desk.

‘Do you worry about keeping so many records?’ asked Idris.

‘No. Everything is encoded. Besides, this is just delivery dates for our halal operation. A large percentage of our business is just ordinary fabric retail,’ said White Coat. A young woman in a white headscarf came in carrying a tray with a cafetière and glass cups. She placed the tray on the desk in front of White Coat. He began pouring kava into small cups. ‘Remember Nighat? The girl you set me up with at school?’ he said to Idris.

Idris laughed aloud. ‘The one with the handlebar moustache who always smelt of stale curry?’ The young woman left the room quickly.

‘Er, yes. That was her. We got married last year,’ said White Coat. He blushed profusely.

An overweight child, his mother hadn’t helped matters by dressing him in short trousers and knitted tank tops, and giving him his lunch in a margarine tub. So, what could the bigger kids do but bully him? Thankfully, the beatings ended when Jia Khan befriended him. Every school kid knew not to mess with the Khan’s children or their friends. Or even friends of their friends. She’d helped him up and handed him his glasses after a particularly nasty encounter, smiling as she told him that his spectacle prescription was similar to hers. That was the day he fell in love for the first time.

White Coat spoke without pausing for breath, as if in a perpetual state of excitement. Today, more so than ever, he was nervous and desperate to impress. ‘It was all my idea, this plant. I came up with it when I was studying for my chemistry degree at Manchester. Where did you go to uni?’ he asked, and then without waiting for an answer continued, ‘You see, I was speaking to Dad about the family business and I told him out and out: smuggling, not something I can do. Dad was disappointed. We didn’t talk for a bit. Then…I came up with my plan!’ White coat’s eyes glistened as he talked. Here was a man who loved his job.

‘The plan being this place?’ asked Idris.

The scientist nodded.

‘We hear Nowak contacted you,’ said Jia. The colour drained from White Coat’s face.

‘I’m a businessman,’ he said. ‘I’m in business to make money.’ Jia smiled at him and nodded, allaying his fears.

‘What did he want from you?’ Idris asked.

‘Their shipment’s already in the system – nothing to do with us. But they were looking for friends to help maintain their supply, clean their money, that kind of thing.’

Jia listened, leaving Idris to ask the questions. ‘What did you tell them?’ he said.

‘I don’t like to turn business away, but I don’t like their methods. It’s dirty. Bad for long-term business. I see myself as a sort of social worker, providing a service of care if you will. Some people need help surviving and if I don’t do it someone else will. But the Brotherhood, they’re dishing out the drug to children, women, no idea of hygiene. Sooner or later these diseases will filter back to our people… So I told them I’m too busy at the moment to take on new work.’

‘Do you know anything about their operations?’

White Coat looked uncomfortable. He possessed information and had not passed it on. If Akbar Khan had been alive this would have gone badly for him; even though he didn’t work for the Jirga, his family, business associates, people he worshipped with, did, and that was how the Khan’s power worked. It was why it was difficult to escape it. He turned to Jia. Hanging out with her had been the best part of school. Not only was she the smartest girl he had ever met, she also always had time to hear about his schemes, ideas others usually thought were crazy. He had tried to stay in touch with her, but after her brother’s death she had stopped responding to his emails.

‘I wanted to work with your father but he didn’t always understand our operation, see?’ he said. ‘But if you’re stepping in…I mean, taking over, I’d like to help. I know the Polskie’s shipments are sold on in bulk, cheap and fast. I gather they’ve been talking to Hajji Taj, you know, the travel agent? I reckon they’re gonna send the money through his place.’

Jia leaned over and took White Coat’s hand. ‘Thank you, Abdul,’ she said. ‘That information means a great deal to me. Keep your ear to the ground and let us us know if you hear anything more? We will be in touch with you very soon.’

White Coat’s brown cheeks reddened further.

CHAPTER 32

‘It makes sense,’ said Idris as they left the factory. ‘We’ll need a strong team, and he’s got the experience, and we can trust him. My advice would be to ask him to