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This isn't all about my mum but living here is hardly a burden while it gets her the help she needs.
sixteen
Knox
Myprisonerstandsquiveringon the small stool. The three legs make clicking sounds as they rub against the concrete flooring.
“William Harbour,” Caeo introduces the man. “We're onto your thieving.”
“Th-th-thieving?” the poor man whimpers. I have no pity for him. I am over generous with money, I have too much of it myself. I'd rather have my staff well paid and loyal, a quite different approach from my father.
“This is your chance to tell us everything,” Caeo tells the man.
“There is nothing to tell, it's not me. I've not done anything.”
“Gavriil has ways to make people talk.” I nod at the Russian, who hears his name and steps forward. The large man picks up one of his tools and starts explaining what it does.
Gavriil talks in a deep voice with a jolly undertone. Every time, I want to dress the tattooed giant up like Father Christmas and scare the shit out of everyone.
“That hurt real bad,” Nico sums up the larger man's words. Nico would make a superb elf, translating great spheals of Russian into single words of English. I'm not sure if it's Gavriil who loves the word death or Nico, but it's extremely popular when Nico translates.
Understanding Gavriil isn't important, he makes himself clear with hand gestures, and he isn't at all upset by how few words Nico actually says. The message is loud and clear.
“You is speaking now.” Nico translates Gavriil's final words to the hanging man.
“About what? I've not done anything,” William sobs to the boy. “Please tell him I didn't take anything.”
“No me tell. You speaking Mr Thayer,” Nico shrugs. “Mr Gavriil only care the hurting.”
“I need you to explain the missing money.” I explain his situation in English. Gavriil had lots to say, but none of it was the questions I wanted answered. “I sent twenty bricks, but you only signed in nineteen. And when the money comes in, the profit from the extra brick is skimmed off the top.”
“We don't get twenty bricks at a time. The number always varies.” The man wriggles against his binds as his anxiety grows. He has just realised we are onto him.
“I buy a certain value of drugs at a time, but inflation, currency and demand change the quantity that money gets.
You don't get twenty at a time. The number does vary. But my records are accurate. Did you really think we would never audit this?”
“Please, I don't know anything.”
“Lying to me is pointless. What I want is someone to make an example of. Will it be you, or will you give me an alternative?”
I give him a moment to think, pacing around him in a wide circle. His bound hands betray his nerves behind his back.
“Please, give your word. If I tell you, you'll spare me?”
“I only need one name to make a public example of.” I assure my victim. Nico whispers to Gavriil and the Russian gives a huff, realising his torture skills may not be called on. Nico comforts him with words that I'm sure are as broken in Russian as they are in English. I was tempted once to offer the runt what I've offered Porter if I could see him as anything other than a child. As fond as I am, Nico could never be what Porter is to me already. That doesn't mean I can't still save the little urchin from the half-life he leads. A translator who has barely fifty percent understanding in either language. I want to save him from the poverty he chooses to live in despite all that I give him financially. Nico will do anything for the man he loves, and the gentle hand on Gavriil's arm has made his heart's loyalty more than clear over the years. Nico and Gavriil have a father/son relationship, far thicker than blood.
“Derik Marley. It was his idea. When he saw that the number varied each time, and that we were the ones logging it, he thought he could change it.” William's tongue is suddenly loosened by the torture on offer. “Once Roger Saint was in on it, I couldn't say no to both of them. And it was working. I didn't have to do anything, and I was still getting an extra couple of grand per month.”
“You were being cheated if that's all you got from their arrangement.” A brick could easily be worth eighty grand. Even if they skimmed two per year, that's a sizable income.
“I just turned a blind eye; I had nothing to do with the actual forgery.”
“You should have told me. I would have made it far more financially motivating, and you wouldn't be here now.”
“I'm sorry. I know for next time. I won't let you down again.”
It doesn't matter what he took, only that it doesn't happen again.
