Strangers: A Novel(94)

I don’t think Erik realizes it, but his words are a huge help to me. Differently to how he intended, but that doesn’t matter.

By the time the elevator doors open, there’s barely any trace of my despair left; instead I’m filled with such an intense rage it almost takes my breath away. I hang the Do Not Disturb sign on our room door, take out my phone, and ram the battery back in, despite Erik’s protests. As soon as I get a signal, I dial the number. He picks up after the second ring.

“Damn it, Joanna. It’s about time you called. Where the hell are you?”

I take a deep breath. “That no longer concerns you. So you blocked my accounts? Even the one with the money I earned myself?”

“Yes. I warned you I would. Do you really think I’d waste my time with empty threats?”

“But you don’t have access to my account!”

He laughs. “Jo, darling. The account is with our family bank. Do you really think they would say no if I asked them for a favor? Do you think they would take the risk that I’d transfer our money to their competitors?”

I feel an intense desire to destroy something, yet at the same time, I have never felt so helpless.

“Right, listen to me now.” My father no longer sounds amused, but businesslike. “You make your way to the airport, Gavin will meet you there, you’re flying home. End of discussion.”

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Otherwise he wouldn’t destroy the very last chance he had to win me back.

“No, Dad.” My voice is calmer than I even dared to hope. “I’m staying here, and I might soon be dead because of that. The people who are after Erik and me are the same ones who blew up Munich station, and they’ve already nearly succeeded in killing us a few times. And by cutting me off, you’ve considerably raised their chances. Congratulations. But you know what? I’d rather get shot than spend my whole life being blackmailed by you. Good-bye.”

I hang up before he has the chance to say anything. Imagining the look on his face right now, I begin to laugh. A laugh which just about holds back the tears beneath the surface; nonetheless, it feels liberating.

Erik doesn’t laugh with me. He looks at me skeptically, shaking his head gently. “That was a bit dramatic, what you just did.”

My phone rings: Dad, of course. I reject the call. “Yes, you’re right. I acted like a fourteen-year-old. Possibly because that’s what I should have done when I was fourteen.”

Erik points at the phone. “It’s possible he might give in, now that he knows how serious the situation really is. Joanna, don’t throw away your chance of safety because of spite. Or our chance, even.”

I understand Erik’s thought process, but he doesn’t understand my father’s. Giving in just wasn’t in his programming. Not at any price. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough,” I say. “If he’s worried about me, he’ll unblock the accounts, right? That’s what any other loving father would do in his position. But I’ll bet anything that he won’t.”

I let the phone fall onto the bed. The feeling I had a few moments ago, of having won the battle, even if it had been an empty victory, has now disappeared. “We’ll somehow have to manage without money. I’ve no idea how, but—”

“No, we don’t have to do,” Erik interrupts me. “You have money, don’t you remember? You threw it at my head the day before yesterday. Almost.”

My God, of course. The tapas cookbook. The twenty thousand euros. We had that much, except …

I look at Erik. “How are we going to get it?”





44

Yes, how are we going to get to the money?

The irony of the whole situation is hard to beat. Twenty thousand euros that could make the difference between life and death, just lying around in our house, in our very own kitchen. But the money might as well be lying around somewhere on the moon, for we have no chance whatsoever of getting our hands on it.

By now, Gabor’s people know that Joanna was in the house and that she isn’t there anymore. And they must assume she’s not going to be coming back, because she’s scared. Because she knows someone broke in. Are they still going to be lying in wait there? Or have they taken off?

In any case, there’s no way she can risk going there. The danger is far too great. And I’m dead, in their eyes, and need to stay that way if possible.

“I don’t know,” I say with frustration. “There’s absolutely no way we can go back to the house.”

Joanna starts chewing her lower lip. She always does that when there’s an important problem needing to be solved. There’s so much familiarity within that little quirk that, for a brief moment, it makes everything around us seem completely unreal.

But then her eyes widen, and I know she’s had an idea. “You’re right. There’s no way we can go back to the house. But what about if somebody else went to pick up the money for us?”

“Somebody else?” I echo, to give myself a bit of time to think. “That could work, maybe, but who did you have in mind? Besides, there’s still a risk Gabor’s people might be hanging around.”

“Ela.”

Ela. Of course. But a thought makes my euphoria evaporate the very next moment.

“It’s just that Ela thinks I’m dead.”