It had been four days now. There was no mirror in the room, but Taki could feel that his face was swollen and bruised. The only person who came to see him was Warren, although Father John had looked in on him on Sunday evening, his first day in captivity.
He had examined his face carefully and shone a torch into his eyes. He had asked him his name, which seemed weird, and prodded his nose gently.
‘Nothing broken, no concussion. You’re lucky.’
Taki didn’t feel lucky; being beaten up and locked in a room in a deserted part of the monastery didn’t strike him as lucky.
He worked out that he was next door to Father John’s room where the abbot had brought him that fateful day. The window had screws in the frame so that it couldn’t be opened and metal bars so he couldn’t get out even if he broke the glass. There was nothing that he could use to break the glass, even if he had wanted to. Just a wooden bed with sheets and blankets and a small cubicle with a toilet and washbasin and that was it. The window overlooked the garden and he spent a lot of time staring wistfully at the view.
Warren brought him trays of food three times a day, whistling as he came up the stairs. The first morning he had asked him how he was feeling. Taki said he was okay and wondered if Warren was going to apologise. But he had just grunted and said next time he would hit him harder.
Taki had said he wanted to see the abbot, and Warren had looked at him for a moment and said he would ask, but he didn’t think he ever did. Father Theo never came.
He had asked for some of his clothes and books and Warren had grudgingly brought a holdall with a few things from his old room. It was good to have books again and he spent most of his time sprawled on the bed reading.
Warren seemed bored, just like he was, and they had talked a little. He was completely disinterested in Taki’s background but was prepared to tell him about his own.
Taki found that if he sprung a question on Warren, he would look at him as if to say, ‘Look I don’t need to answer you,’ but then answered anyway without thinking too much about what he was saying.
Warren was most relaxed talking about his life in the African bush. He had been a game ranger at a private game lodge and described various game drives he had led and hunts for leopard and elephant.
‘I thought tourists just took photos of wild animals,’ Taki said.
‘Man, if they pay enough, most things can be arranged,’ Warren said carelessly.
‘Why did you come to Greece, then?’ Taki asked.
‘Scorpion, Brother John to you, was organising the hunting trips and…well, he had to leave suddenly. He asked me to come with him; needed some grunt.’
‘So, why here?’
Warren looked at him cagily. ‘Scorp knew the boss from time he’d spent in north Africa and there was this idea, so he came to set it up.’
‘Who’s the Boss?’ Taki asked innocently.
‘He’s a scary guy,’ Warren replied. ‘Believe me, you wouldn’t want to know.’
‘So what is it you do?’
‘We do good works, just like Scorp said.’
‘But in the end you’ll go back to Africa?’ Taki asked.
‘This is rewarding work,’ Warren replied. ‘So we’ll be here a while yet. So long as Scorp wants to keep going.’
‘Do you think he might not?’
Warren had looked thoughtful at this question and lapsed into silence.
When he had brought his lunch on Wednesday, Warren had looked out of the window and remarked, ‘It’s the coast guard.’
A grey patrol boat was cruising slowly close in to the low cliffs beyond the monastery grounds. ‘They are looking for a body in the sea,’ Warren explained.
‘Whose body?’ Taki asked anxiously.
‘That girl who went missing; Zoë,’ Warren said and Taki stared at him in horror. ‘The police arrested some journalist and they think he’s thrown her over the cliff.’
Taki stared numbly at the coast guard boat.
‘This journalist offered a big reward, but that was only a cover, it seems.’ Warren held up a sheet of paper, printed from the Internet, with a photo of Zoë and a description. The paper was headed, ‘Zoë Harding, missing at Zengounas, 20th May. Large reward for information leading to her safe return.’ Zoë’s image with her short-cropped dark hair, smiled at them from the notice.
‘And this is her brother,’ Warren said. He produced another A4 sheet, with a photograph of Jake wearing a yellow shirt. Taki recognised a blown-up image from the security system. ‘Just in case I run into him,’ Warren added darkly. ‘I’ll remember what he looks like.’
Taki sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands.
‘Cheer up,’ Warren said. ‘Tonight you’re going on a boat trip.’
‘Where to?’ Taki asked, not looking up.
Warren paused for a moment and then said, ‘I’m taking you to Syntagma.’
‘Where’s that?’ Taki asked.
‘You’ll find out soon enough,’ Warren replied.
