Blood Whispers Read Free Page B

know what else to do.
    ‘You want us to wait until you’ve finished putting everything away?’ said the man at the table. ‘Why don’t you leave that for a minute and come and sit down, Valbona? We’ve been here for two hours already.’
    Valbona glanced at Edon and saw the look of fear on her husband’s battered face. He gestured with a small nod of his head for her to come and sit beside him. As she drew in her chair she felt Edon take her hand under the table and squeeze. It was only then that she noticed a third person, sitting on the arm of their tattered sofa in the far corner of the room, their features partially obscured by shade. The figure was dressed differently from the others in a smart black tailored suit with black shirt and tie and fine-leather, dark brown brogues, hair neatly combed in a side parting, hollow eyes staring straight ahead as if entranced, seemingly unaware of the other people in the room.
    It was Engjell E Zeze: the Watcher.
    Valbona tried to swallow, but her mouth was suddenly dry.
    Engjell was a contract killer. With an uncanny ability to avoid capture, the Watcher was rumoured to inhabit the spirit world: a fallen angel whose only purpose on earth was to destroy life. The number of people murdered varied wildly from village to village, with some estimates running into the thousands, but whatever the number, the Watcher had become a very wealthy individual from the business of death.
    The man opposite Valbona had his hands resting on the table, spinning a mobile phone on its diagonal with a nonchalant flick of his finger. ‘Where’s Kaltrina?’ he said without shifting his gaze from the phone.
    She looked at Edon and shrugged.
    ‘You don’t know?’
    ‘She has been gone over two years now,’ replied Valbona in a quiet, controlled voice. ‘We don’t hear from her . . .’
    ‘At all?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘When was the last time?’
    ‘A few years ago,’ replied Edon, cutting in. ‘I already told you.’
    The guy looked up at Edon like he was going to hit him again. ‘I wasn’t asking you, I was asking your wife, so shut up.’
    ‘She was in Scotland,’ said Valbona quickly. ‘Said she had a job in a café and was going to stay there for a while.’
    ‘Did she say where?’
    Valbona shook her head. ‘I don’t know! In Glasgow. Near a university, I think. With Kaltrina you take what you’re given. And she doesn’t give that much. That was all she said. She was just ringing to tell us she was okay.’
    ‘You haven’t heard from her in the last few weeks?’
    ‘No,’ answered Valbona shaking her head. ‘Has something happened to her?’
    He ignored her question and from the breast pocket of his shirt pulled a small piece of folded notepaper. He tossed the scrap of paper across the table to her and said, ‘Read this out.’
    ‘What is it?’
    Again he ignored her.
    Then he lifted the phone and pointed at her, nodding for her to start.
    Valbona let go of Edon’s hand and lifted the piece of paper from the table. She could feel the man staring back at her impatiently, but took her time to unfold the note and scan what was written on it. The effect the words had on her was immediate. Her face flushed hot and her hand started to tremble as she struggled to hold back the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes, but she was determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing any weakness.
    The man could see her hesitating and frowned. ‘Just say the words.’
    ‘Why . . .’ Valbona started to say, but he slammed his fist down hard on the table, making both her and Edon jump. ‘Because I’m fucking telling you to! Just read the note.’
    Valbona stared back at him defiantly and started to read; her voice dull and monosyllabic.
    ‘ Stop çfarë jeni duke bërë, Kaltrina. Nëse ju nuk e bëni . . . ata do të vrasin babait tuaj. Pastaj – në qoftë se ju ende vazhdojnë të tregoni gënjeshtra – Ata do të më vrasë. ’
    Valbona turned to Edon,