Memoriesof Dracinsky’s soldierly deportment flickered through his mind.“Dracinsky's meant to be her guardian.”
“She is.She’s also an Interpol agent, one of our best.Wehaven't been able to protect your family, not the way you wanted.But when the case against Stefan Petrica came apart, we were afraidthat Clara might be an immediate target.We assigned Dracinsky toher, under cover as a chaperone with the LYB.”
“But...Clara was safe in Seattle.Why did Dracinsky let hercome home?”
“She took a field decision.She wanted to follow Sasha too,offer him help if she could—and your sister wasn’t leaving her alot of choice.She didn’t dare tackle him on the plane in case hereacted badly, and when she tried to intercept him at Heathrow hevanished off into the crowd.In the circumstances, she elected tocome in, at least get Clara into protection.She called for apickup.”
Laurietook a deep breath.He had to stop snapping at the people he nowneeded most.He didn’t know why he and Sasha had been left out inthe cold, but Clara had been given her own dragon from the verystart.He owed Foster that much.“Okay.Thank you.Please,though—you have to help Sasha too.”
“If we had the least idea where he was headed.But we don’t—notany more than you.”
Laurieclosed his eyes.He evoked a vision of his city.This was wherehe’d grown up, where his real life had begun, in a doorway acrossfrom the opera house on the Strand.Sasha had shown him analternate universe, a world as complex as its surface counterpart.The shadows under bridges, derelict tower blocks...So manyfoxholes, too many to search in a lifetime.He would start anyway,go on until it was done, but for now...“I don’t know,” hewhispered.“I don’t know where he would go.”
“I know.”
Lauriejerked his head up.He had almost forgotten the woman in the greyhooded top.She was rigid in the doorway, clutching the frame as ifto keep herself from flight.“Yes,” he said faintly, comprehensionbeginning to dawn.Yes, she knew, because...“Please.Tellme.”
“Birchwood Heath.”
The namehit Laurie like a stone.He had taken Clara back there once, in achilly winter dream.He had looked at the place where Mama Luna haddied, and he had felt nothing.Christ, he felt everything now.Foster’s voice was blasting at him from the receiver—a series ofexpletives and commands.He covered the mouthpiece.“Why?There’snothing left at Birchwood.The camp was destroyed.”
“The camp was only ever a front.Stefan and the Roma gang lordsused it to distract the immigration people, to give themselveswarning of a raid.There’s a wood behind it with some buildingsdeep inside.I think they were used as a lab of some sort duringWorld War Two.He used to hide out there.He probably stilldoes.”
Laurietuned back in to Foster.He had little choice—she was bellowing hisname, demanding to know if he was still there.“Yes,” he said.“Still here.I’m guessing you heard that.”
“Laurie, you arenotto go there.You are not to go anywhere nearBirchwood Heath!Stay where you are.I’ll send someone to pick youup, you and whoever is there with you.Do youunderstand?”
“Okay.”That would serve him better than a hang-up or outrightrefusal.Okaywould bring Interpol down on his head a fraction less quicklythanno.“Iunderstand.We’ll wait here.”
He setthe receiver down gently.Then he got up and went to stand in frontof the white-faced woman in the doorway.She was shaking visiblynow.“They’re coming out here,” he told her.“The officer I spoketo says they’ll take you too.Is that what you want?”
Sheswallowed hard.“I’ve seen things.Done things too, while I waswith...”Laurie held out a hand and she grabbed it, held it tight.“Any one of those things could put me away for life.I don’t wantto use it up that way—whatever life I’ve got left.Please let meuse it helping you to save my boy.”
“Tell me your name.”
“Liz Vale.But I once was Elizabeth Petrica.”
Chapter Twenty Four
Laurieand Elizabeth sat side by side on the stairs.He had persuaded heroff the doorstep, far enough into the hall to close the door behindher.From Laurie’s experience of Interpol, they had perhaps tenminutes before they had to run, and he needed at least five ofthem: his heart was racing hard, and he couldn’t stop looking ather.Her hand was still in his, thin and warm and dry.
“How does he think of me?”
Lauriedidn’t need to ask what she meant.He picked out Sasha’s few wordsabout her from his memory, glad he could tell her the truth.“Ashis mother.He said...He said you ran away with the gypsies.ButStefan treated you so badly that you couldn’t stand it any more,and you came back home.”
“He must hate me for leaving him behind.”Her head was bowed,lank dark hair hiding her face.“He was only a baby.I meant to goback for him, but...”
“He doesn’t hate you.He told me how you and Stefan used toteach people, give classes in your house in Bucharest.Then howStefan went to jail, and came back different.Cruel andtwisted.”
She shuddered.“He was insane.Christ, I left mybabywithhim!”
Laurie couldn’t take the guilt off her.He couldn’t catch thebillion mirror-glass birds he could still feel in the air aroundhim, flying the broadband cables, bouncing off satellites, flashinghis own treachery right across the world.“He doesn’t hate you,” herepeated helplessly.“I don’t think he hates anyone—not evenStefan.”Not even me.
“I meant to come back for him.But I knew too much for Stefanto let me live.I had family in Ireland.I went and hid out withthem.And as the years went by and Alexandru got older, old enoughto know what I’d done...I didn’t dare.”
“You dared enough to try and help him when you knew Stefan wasfree.”Laurie bit back a smile at the idea of Irish blood inSasha’s veins, potently mixed with all that Roma fire.“Why didn’tyou just come to us?I kept seeing you.At first I thought I wasgoing nuts, then I assumed you were one of Stefan’sgang.”
“I was afraid.I didn’t want to lead them to you, and I wasscared for my own hide as well—he’d kill me as soon as look at me.But more than any of that...”She curled over as if her stomachhurt, tightly clutching Laurie’s hand.“Don’t you see?I leftAlexandru.I never went back.Never touched him, never helped him,never put one thing into all the growing up he did without me.Howcould I just turn up on your doorstep, as if I thought I had theright to...harvesthim somehow, pluck him like a ripe fruit or aflower?”
