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Chapters (27)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Book
  3. About the Author
  4. Also by Craig Russell
  5. Title Page
  6. For Holger and Lotte
  7. Acknowledgements
  8. Epigraph
  9. Prologue
  10. Part One
  11. CLOWN DIARY FIRST ENTRY. DATED: 11.11 A.M. 11th NOVEMBER.
  12. CHAPTER ONE
  13. CLOWN DIARY SECOND ENTRY. UNDATED.
  14. CHAPTER TWO
  15. CHAPTER THREE
  16. CHAPTER FOUR
  17. CHAPTER FIVE
  18. Part Two
  19. CLOWN DIARY, FIFTEENTH ENTRY. UNDATED.
  20. CHAPTER SIX
  21. CHAPTER SEVEN
  22. CHAPTER EIGHT
  23. CHAPTER NINE
  24. CHAPTER TEN
  25. CHAPTER ELEVEN
  26. CHAPTER TWELVE
  27. Epilogue

Maria noticed Slavko trembling. She began to feel sorry for him. She also began to regret fooling him into believing that she had some official clout. She knew that she was exposing him to danger from which she couldn’t protect him. Or herself.

‘Slavko, all I need is a list of names. A name. You know this isn’t right. This isn’t work, this is slavery. These people will have you working for nothing for ever. And you’re one of the lucky ones. Think of the women and children who have been sold into God knows what.’

Slavko gazed at her intently. He seemed to weigh up his options.

‘I was brought here by container lorry. From Lvyv to Hamburg. Then they took us in middle of the night in van. We were dropped at different places in Cologne. I was brought here, to restaurant. It was middle of night and I was told wait here, at the back, until the morning and someone came to open up. Then I have to work for fifteen hours and after they take me to the apartment. Eight of us. Two bedrooms. We take turns sleeping.’

Maria nodded. So there was still a Hamburg connection. Vitrenko’s empire hadn’t withdrawn from the city, just from visibility.

‘Who arranged it all?’

‘There is man back in Lvyv … all I know him as is Pytor. I don’t know names of any of other people who collected us from the container in Hamburg. Except man who drive minibus … we see him every week. His name Viktor. But at the first stop we made here in Cologne, a big black Mercedes was waiting. Man got out and gave orders to minibus driver. He was tough-looking man. Like a soldier.’

Maria scrabbled in her bag for one of the scaled-down copies of Vitrenko’s photograph.

‘This man … could this man be the soldier?’

Slavko shook his head. ‘No, soldier-type much younger. Thirty. Thirty-five, maybe.’

‘Ukrainian?’

‘Yes. I hear him speaking. Not what he say, but I hear it was Ukrainian.’

At that moment a tall, slim African came out with a pail of scraps, which he put into one of the bins. On his way back in he looked suspiciously at Maria.

‘Boss is looking for you,’ the African said to Slavko.

‘I come right now …’ Slavko was clearly concerned at having been seen talking to Maria. ‘I have to go.’

‘Then I’ll have to come back,’ she said.

‘I told you everything. I don’t know no more.’

‘I can’t believe that. Who takes the money from you for your accommodation?’

Slavko looked confused.

‘Your apartment,’ said Maria. She really did feel sorry for him. But she needed a lead. ‘The man who brought you here in the minibus. Viktor. You said he takes your money.’

‘Oh … him.’ Again Slavko looked anxious. ‘If you talk to him, then they know it me who talk.’