The Italian Emergency Hospital – or to give it its full title, the Emergency Surgical Center for Civilian War Victims – was a new facility that had recently been opened by a European charity. It existed, as the name implied, to treat the casualties caught up in the crossfire of the country’s enduring internecine strife. It also housed the city’s only refrigerated morgue, where Vinke’s body now resided.
Mac knew from his experience in Kabul that an Afghan post-mortem was a post-mortem in name only. Without the forensic facilities required to analyse tissue and fluid samples, any conclusions drawn by Afghan medical examiners were generally based on visual acuity or, to put it more bluntly, guesswork. And although the place was clean and bright compared to the morgue he’d visited in Kabul, the charity that ran the hospital quite rightly spent its budget on helping the living, rather than analysing the dead. Ginger had told him that it looked like Vinke had been strangled. Mac was no medical expert himself, but he still felt it would be worth examining the body to see if it could tell them something more.
An orderly in a white coat led them through the hospital to the morgue at the back of the building when Darab explained why they were there. He unlocked the morgue, pointed to a stainless-steel drawer, and left them to it.
‘Fuck, we didn’t even have to show ID,’ said Mac, shaking his head.
Ginger shrugged. ‘There aren’t that many Europeans down here and they mostly work for NGOs. It’s not like they’re expecting a gang of British body snatchers, is it?’ He pulled open the drawer and Mac drew back the sheet which covered the body inside it.
They gazed down at the chilled carcass that had once been Lars Vinke. His limbs looked stiff and awkward with rigor. Ginger had only known him a week, and Mac not at all, but they still stood for a moment in respectful silence. There but for the grace of God…
Mac spoke first, leaning over the body so he could examine the bruises on the neck. ‘You were right, chum – certainly strangled.’ There were blue-green finger marks ringing Vinke’s throat, and they suggested that the killer had known what he was doing, applying enough pressure in the right place to block off Vinke’s airway, and probably snapping his hyoid bone in the process.
‘Poor guy didn’t stand a chance,’ said a voice behind them – Italian accent with a definite American twang. ‘I’m Doctor Marchesi.’
They turned round to see a short, dark-haired medic standing in the doorway.
‘Hi,’ said Ginger. ‘Chris Jameson, and this is my colleague Mac MacKenzie. I’m head of security at Well Diggers. Lars Vinke was our project manager.’
Marchesi nodded. ‘Listen, guys, we don’t have facilities or the time for a full autopsy, but I took a look at him, and I can give you a quick rundown on what I know.’
‘Thanks,’ said Ginger.
Marchesi joined them by Vinke’s corpse.
‘Do you have any idea who did it?’ he said.
‘No, but whoever it was has also taken one of my blokes.’
Marchesi let out a low whistle. ‘Right, you’re looking for a big man – tall, I mean. Certainly over six feet.’
‘How do you know?’ said Ginger.
Marchesi held a hand a couple of inches above Vinke’s throat. ‘Look at the size of these handprints.’ They were much larger than Marchesi’s hands. ‘He was strong, too. It’s not that easy to strangle someone – you have to hold that grip for four or five minutes, and the victim will probably be struggling, at least for the first minute or two. And this Vinke wasn’t exactly small himself.’
‘Can you tell us anything else?’ said Mac. ‘Time of death?’ An accurate time of death would be useful – just on the off-chance that the bloody useless police stumbled upon a witness.
‘When the body came in at eleven this morning, it was – and in fact still is – in peak rigor mortis.’
‘What does that tell you?’
‘Rigor starts to come into effect approximately four hours after death, maybe quicker in this heat. It can take up to eight hours for the body to become fully stiff, like he is now, and that can last for up to two days.’
Mac frowned – he hadn’t signed up for a bloody science lecture. He just wanted answers.
‘What it means is the latest he probably died, for rigor to have set in before he arrived here, is six this morning. However, it could have been several hours before that. When was he last seen alive?’
‘Apart from whoever did it and Bakker, the missing man, we think it must have been when he dismissed Mahmoud, his gatekeeper. About four or five yesterday afternoon,’ said Ginger.
Marchesi nodded. ‘So, definitely sometime during the night. Lividity on the body is fixed, which narrows the time frame slightly – it suggests that he likely died before two or three a.m. If I had lab facilities, I would probably be able to give you a more accurate estimate, but that’s all I can offer.’ He shrugged.
That was life in Afghanistan – they had to make do with what was available, and it wasn’t what Mac had been used to in the Met.
‘Thanks, Doc,’ said Mac. He pulled the sheet back up over Vinke’s face. Although they might report Vinke’s death to the local police, it would really be up to them to solve it – if such a thing was even possible. The most likely way was to find whoever had taken Bakker. He might still be alive and he had to be their priority now. Mac felt certain that finding Bakker’s abductor would also lead them to the man who killed Vinke.
They headed for the HAVA building. It was gone five by the time they got there, but Nagpal was still working, so Ginger made the introductions.
‘Jagvir Nagpal, this is Mac MacKenzie. He’s a K&R specialist.’
It was hardly how Mac would have described himself, but he let it go. Building confidence was an important way of gaining co-operation, and he and Ginger would need all Well Diggers’ staff to be fully on board.
‘Good to meet you,’ said Nagpal, sticking out a hand. It wasn’t the usual Afghan greeting, but Mac saw from Nagpal’s turban that he wasn’t the usual Afghan. He knew a couple of Sikhs up in Kabul, but he hadn’t realised there were still Afghan Sikhs living in Helmand.
‘You too.’ Niceties over, it was straight down to business. ‘Have you got that translation of the nightletter for us?’
‘It’s here,’ said Nagpal, handing over a sheet of paper covered in neat handwriting. ‘I was going to type it up for you, but I haven’t had a moment yet.’
‘No worries,’ said Ginger. He and Mac studied the text.
By the Name of Almighty Allah The Most Merciful The Most Compassionate
Notice from the Holy Warriors of Afghanistan
Aslam Alaikum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatuho to all honorable Moslems of Afghanistan.
We have the honour to inform you those disgraceful and aggressive missions of infidel and puppet Karzai administration are deployed to invade Afghanistan demanding your respected votes and pulling the wool over your eyes. They are planning to make use of this sacred nation for US-backed invasion as well as to achieve their vicious goals and spreading Christian thoughts via your sanctified votes. They intend to undermine your determined and religious beliefs and they have already started spreading Christianity in this holy country in secret. Our objective is: Casting votes to those is assisting heathens and if you do so, then there is no difference between you and infidel Jews as stated in one of the verses of holy Koran: ‘Muslims, don’t pick friends from a Jewish or Christian community because they are friends to each other and if you do so, then there is no discrepancy between you and Jews/Christians and Almighty does not guide the tyrants.’
Mohammad Bin Ali Shoukani saying that the reason for prohibiting being companion with Jews/Christians is not to deal them friendly as friendship, association, social intercourse and any assistance even as cooking, driving, safeguarding etc. Anyone doing so for the livelihood of the family is religiously authorized to be executed.
As mentioned in one of the verses of holy Koran, while the infidels are seeking your alliance and amity, avoid it. Anyone committing is considered similar as Jew/Christian and will be painfully tortured in hell and this is the final stage of sin ousting a Muslim to infidelity.
Note: Anyone not acting upon these religious instructions will be faced soon its consequence Insha’Allah and everyone has responsibility or answerability of his/her own.
Islamic Revolution of Taleban
Shura of Scholars
‘Wow,’ said Ginger. ‘They’re not messing around, are they?’
‘They want to scare us away from working with you,’ said Nagpal.
‘So, do you think there’s a connection between this and what happened in the house?’ said Ginger, turning to Mac.
Mac paused, running a hand through his hair and scratching. ‘We can’t discount it… but it doesn’t seem that likely for a number of reasons.’
‘Go on.’
‘First, cause of death. Manual strangulation’s not a Taliban MO. Gunshot wounds, stabbing, a cut throat… but not the way Vinke died.’ He counted off the reasons on his fingers. ‘Second, what’s with killing one and taking the other? Vinke was more senior, so would be the logical hostage to take, if they only wanted one.’
‘If they knew that,’ said Ginger.
‘It wouldn’t have been hard to find out. And third, radio silence. Terrorist groups like to crow about things like this and the Taliban are no exception. They would at least put out a ransom demand.’
‘There’s been nothing,’ said Nagpal. ‘I’ve been monitoring all the company’s email addresses and no one has received a phone call.’
Mac shook his head. ‘It’s not the Taliban. The local Talibs haven’t been attacking aid projects and NGOs, so this would be a departure from their usual TTPs.’
‘TTPs?’ said Nagpal.
‘Sorry – tactics, techniques and procedures. No reason for them to do that.’
‘But if it’s not the Taliban, who the hell is it?’ said Ginger.
Mac shrugged. ‘Who else is operating down here? Not the Haqqani Network. Unlikely to be AQ – they’re a spent force in Afghanistan. Maybe some jumped-up local gangsters…’ He looked at Nagpal.
‘Plenty of those around here,’ he said.
‘No information from the governor’s office yet?’ said Ginger.
Nagpal shook his head. ‘I spoke to his deputy less than an hour ago. They claim they haven’t heard a thing.’
‘You don’t believe them?’ said Mac.
Nagpal scratched the side of his neck for a couple of seconds and pursed his lips. ‘I think they would tell us maybe if they knew something. Probably not everything. It would depend on how they could work it to their advantage. But to have heard nothing at all…’ He threw his hands in the air, palms up. ‘Afghanistan is like a leaky bucket. No one can mind his own business, and everyone has a cousin who’s involved. There are always rumours – the game is knowing which ones to listen to.’
It did seem strange to Mac that there was nothing – no communication from the kidnappers themselves, nothing turned up by the police search, no chatter… They had no leads to follow and in an operation like this time was critical.
The longer Bakker was held, the less likely he was to get out alive.
If he even was still alive.