Ivory Nation Andy Maslen (best short novels of all time TXT) 📖

think he could take another trip beneath the surface.

‘Wait,’ he gasped. ‘Please, wait. I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t—’

He saw Klara nod. Heaved air into his tortured lungs. Felt the grip on his throat tighten. Plunged under the water again.

Panicking, finally, he grabbed the giant’s wrists, as thick as tree branches, and desperately pulled at them. For his pains, he was thrust right to the bottom of the horse trough. He felt the hard steel bang into the nobbles of his spine.

Goodbye, El. I love you so much. We could have been good together. We could have—

49

ALDEBURGH, ENGLAND

Eli rang Don at home. While she waited for him to answer, she tried to squelch the anxiety knotting her stomach. Something was wrong. Badly wrong. The signal had been as clear as an air raid siren.

‘Hello, Eli.’

‘Oh thank god, boss.’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s Gabe. Gabriel. He’s in trouble.’

‘Trouble how? Trouble where?’

‘South Africa. Johannesburg. I just called him. He sounded strange and then he said he’d cook me roast pork and just hung up on me.’

‘Pork.’

‘Yes! You know what that means, don’t you?’

‘It means somebody was listening in. Someone who doesn’t know you’re Jewish.’

‘I figure he’s been captured. Probably by the BVR. They’re holding him in a safe house. They’ll be interrogating him, trying to find out who sent him. His cover’s blown. I don’t know how, but it is.’

‘Right. One, slow down. Two, take a breath. Three, I need to think. I’ll call you back.’

Five minutes later – Eli had spent the entire interval watching the long red second hand of the kitchen clock circling the dial – her phone rang. She stabbed at the green icon.

‘Boss.’

‘Get yourself to Jo’burg. Do not, repeat do not, go sniffing around for intel. If they took Gabriel there, they have people on the ground. Don’t turn yourself into a target.’

50

HEAVEN

The sheets were so soft. Who knew Heaven would have such a high thread count? He could smell fresh-baked bread. Coffee brewing. An angel speaking. In Afrikaans.

‘Is daardie kak kop nog wakker?’

She sounded just like Klara Witaarde. He heard footsteps. Must be Saint Peter. The gatekeeper came into the bedroom. Gabriel listened, wonderingly. Peter spoke.

‘Hey, shithead. My wife wants to know if you’re awake yet.’

Gabriel opened his eyes. His arms were resting on top of the coverlet. Sun streamed in through a window curtained with off-white muslin that bellied inwards with the breeze.

Witaarde stood over him. He called over his shoulder.

‘Yah, he’s back in the land of the living.’

‘I thought I died,’ Gabriel said.

‘Me too. How about that! It was Klara’s idea to get you out before Ruud pulled your plug for good. That woman has a soft heart.’

Reflecting that any soft-hearted woman who could kick as hard and with as much deadly accuracy as Klara Witaarde was in breach of the Trades Description Act, Gabriel contented himself with a one-word answer.

‘Ivory.’

Witaarde sat on the edge of the bed.

‘What about it?’

‘I want in.’

‘I? What happened to “we”?’

‘There is no “we”.’

‘I knew it!’ Witaarde said, smacking the palms of his hands together. ‘You fucker. You almost had me believing that global white rights story. So, what’s going on? Why are you here?’

‘You no longer think I’m a government spy?’

Witaarde shook his head.

‘Those pussies down south break easier than a Boer virgin. Nobody’s stood up to Ruud’s bath-time that long. What are you, CIA?’

Gabriel shook his head, seeing half a chance.

‘You know what a triad is?’

‘Of course! I’m not some dom yokel. Chinese gangs.’

‘My sister runs one.’

Witaarde’s eyebrows shot towards the ceiling.

‘Get the fuck out of here!’

‘It’s true. Her name’s Wei Mei. That means Beautiful Plum in Mandarin. The triad is called The White Koi.’

Witaarde ran a hand over his face.

‘Prove it.’

‘Bring me my phone.’

Witaarde returned five minutes later. He handed the phone to Gabriel. Gabriel called a speed dial number, then switched the phone to speaker. Mei picked up on the third ring.

‘BB!’

‘Hi, Mei. Listen, no time to explain. I need you to talk to somebody for me. Just answer his questions.’

‘OK.’

He handed the phone back to Witaarde. Then watched Witaarde closely.

‘Who is Gabriel Wolfe?’

‘He is my brother.’

‘What line of business are you in?’

‘Triad.’

Witaarde smiled.

‘What’s the name?’

‘White Koi.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Hey!’ Mei snapped. ‘Wait. Gabriel is with you?’

‘He’s my guest, yes.’

‘Do not hurt him. If you hurt him I will find you and kill you.’

She ended the call.

‘Feisty,’ Witaarde said.

‘She means it.’

‘I don’t doubt it. All right. We’ve established your family business is, what, organised crime?’

‘That about covers it.’

‘Then tell me, Gabriel, why are you interested in ivory?’

‘Can’t you guess?’

‘I know the Chinese buy most of it.’

‘That’s right. Mei wants to move upstream. Take an interest all the way from the source to the customer. She sent me to negotiate.’

‘Why all the bullshit about white rights?’

‘I thought you’d let your guard down if I showed sympathy for your political goals. Not everybody welcomes the attentions of the triads.’

‘Too fucking right!’

Gabriel sat up, waiting for a burst of pain that didn’t arrive. That was good.

‘Cards on the table, Julius. I’m ex-army. I have some mates and we’re looking for a way to make some serious money for ourselves. We’re tooled up and ready to act as Mei’s enforcers over here. You could do with some extra protection.’

Witaarde stood.

‘Get dressed. Go for a walk. Don’t think of running; I’ll have someone shoot you in the leg and bring you back trussed like a hog. And then we’ll go back to the barn.’

51

With the Englishman gone, the ever-reliable Duckie dogging his tracks, Witaarde sipped the fresh mug of coffee Klara had just placed before him.

‘He’s telling the truth.’

‘How do you know? That whole call thing? He could have set it up. He could have support in Hong Kong.’

Witaarde felt a flash of anger. Klara was a loyal wife and a damn good fighter. But she had a mouth on her, too.

‘We nearly fucking drowned him, woman! Nobody goes through that and sticks to their story unless it’s the truth. Nobody!’

She sat down opposite him.

‘What if it is the