Passport - Part Seven by Jo Cameron Symes

“A twin brother?!” Jack said, in shock.

   “Yes. He’s quite different to you, I’m afraid,” Martuska said. “KT was keen on us becoming a family at first, but he was such a difficult child and I was still working as an agent. We were both so busy working long hours that we didn’t give him much of a life at all. He grew up on the streets, more or less, and became completely uncontrollable. He still sees me occasionally. After all he is my son and your brother.” Martuska handed Jack a note.

   ‘Meet me at Café Noir in Lukas Street at 6pm tonight. Come alone – Rikard.’

   “Is that all?” Jack asked, disappointed at this short missive.

   “Yes. After all, you are a stranger to him, I suppose.”

   Darkness had fallen and the streets of Budapest looked pretty, all lit up at night. There was a slight chill and Jack drew her coat around her. She walked past the safe tourist area till she came to Lukas Street which was decidedly more down at heel. Rubbish littered the small street and a sudden yowl of cats startled her from her reverie.

   Jack stood outside Café Noir. Red and white checked tablecloths adorned small circular tables with black chairs around them. A couple of waiters were going round the tables, lighting candles for the evening shift. She peered in the window, but could not see any customers at any of the tables yet. She checked her watch, but it was definitely 6pm, so she entered the café. A waiter looked up at her.

   “Sorry, we’re closed until 7:30pm,” he said.

   “Oh, but I was supposed to be meeting someone here at six,” she said.

   “It’s ok, Hamid,” a man said as he stepped out from the shadowy corridor at the back of the room. “This is my sister,” he continued. Hamid looked at Jack in silence.  

   “In fact, why don’t you guys take the night off? We’ve got some catching up to do,” Rikard said, looking at her. Hamid stood there in shock.

   “But Sir, it’s Saturday night, our busiest night of the week!”

   “Yes, but this is a special occasion. A family reunion. It’s a private matter, so I’d appreciate it if you’d leave. Now!” he said sharply.

   “So, I take it that you’re the owner then?”  Jack said nervously.

   “Yes. Have a seat,” he said, and he pulled out a chair.

   The light directly overhead illuminated his features and she could see him clearly for the first time. She gasped as she realised that she was staring into the face of her father. The only difference being that Father’s eyes were blue, but Rikard’s were green. He took out a cigar from his jacket pocket, and lit it then blew a huge cloud of smoke into her face. She coughed loudly.

   “Jacqueline, eh? Dearest sister Jacqueline.”

   She looked at him. 

   “You know, I’ve always wondered what my life would have been like had I grown up in England? Had I had your life, instead of my own.”

   “My life wasn’t always easy…” she began.

   “Don’t!” he shouted as he banged the table with his fists.

   “You have no idea what my life was like. How I was hungry, neglected, bullied, beaten, How I had to learn to be tough, to fend for myself at such a young age. Don’t you dare tell me that you’ve had a hard life! You have no idea what a hard life is! In fact, I think it’s time you found out, don’t you?” he said as he reached into his pocket and brought out a gun which he aimed at Jack.

   He motioned with the gun for her to get up. She stood slowly and he ushered her out the back. He opened a door that led to a cellar. It was dark, and cold. Water slowly trickled down its walls.

   “Head down the stairs! Now!” he said.

   Jack stepped down into a pit of blackness. Her eyes adjusted and with the light from the landing she was able to see a little now. She gasped as the figure of an elderly man formed from the gloom. He was slumped heavily against the wall. Blood trickled from a wound on his head and his eyes were closed.

   “That’s KT,” Rikard said. “He always was a useless idiot!”

   “You’ve killed him! You murderer!”  Jack shouted.

   “Be quiet!” he said. He reached on the floor for a length of rope. “Now, hold out your hands,” he ordered. She began to slowly raise her hands together furiously thinking of some way she could distract him. She needed to get that gun and get it fast, or else she’d be dead meat. Like KT, over there.