Page 75 of Savage Obsession

“So, why the forest?” I repeat.

“No, no, they kill me…”

“Problem is, I’m going to kill you if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

“Please, Señor Kaminski…”

I exchange a look with Kris, then return to my task.

“Who told you to take her there?”

“Please, I am poor man. I need money…”

“So, they paid you?

He nods.

“How much?”

“I don’t know…”

“How. Much?” I hiss

“Five thousand euro,” he admits. “I need money for children, for family…”

“So, you’d sell my wife, my family? For five fucking grand?”

“I am poor man.” He repeats his feeble excuse, as though he believes I might have some sympathy with his plight.

“Who paid you?”

He shakes his head.

“Who fucking paid you?” I repeat. “And how did they know she’d be in your cab?” As far as I’m aware, Julia only planned her trip on the spur of the moment. There would be no way anyone would know she’d be leaving the hacienda when she did, and which taxi firm she’d call. This couldn’t have been planned in advance.

Timo has fallen silent. I give him a vicious shake. “Spill it, you bastard. How did they know?”

“I tell them,” he mutters, eventually. “I need money, know they pay well…”

“Who pays well? And what for?”

“San Antonio,” he grinds out. “Adan San Antonio…”

I meet Kris’s gaze, who is already on his phone, pacing out of earshot.

“Who the fuck is Adan San Antonio? Why would he be interested in my wife?” I’ve never heard the name before, he isn’t one of our traditional enemies or business rivals, as far as I know.

Timo is drifting into unconsciousness, but I deliver a hard slap to his cheek to bring him round. I repeat my question.

“Rumours, on street, in bars,” he mutters through broken teeth. “San Antonio want his family business back, want to kill you, Señor Kaminski, will pay for information…”

I take a step back to collect my thoughts, work this through. It sounds as though there’s some sort of bounty on us, something that local people are aware of but has somehow slipped through my intelligence net. I’ve been slacking, obviously, and all the while some as yet unknown threat was hovering, waiting to pounce as soon as some greedy, enterprising little scrote held out their grubby palm. It’s also clear, from the fact that Timo thinks I’m Kristian Kaminski, that it was Kris’s wife he thought he was picking up at Los Viñedos, Kris’s wife he thought he’d sold. A fair enough mistake; how was he to know that Kris actually lives elsewhere, not on the family ranch?

Kris beckons me over. “San Antonio is some sort of relative to the Domingos, cousin by the looks of it. Became their Don when the old man died, after a bit of an internal squabble in the family. According to my sources, he’s normally based in Madrid. Not sure what he’s doing in the Canary Islands.”

“Trying to get the family jewels back, according to Timo. He wants control of our turf, and the plan is to kill you to get it. Timo clearly thought he’d picked up your wife, and he saw a chance to make a quick buck. We know the rest. San Antonio thinks he can use his hostages as bait to get to you.”

Kris nods. “Makes some sort of sense. Have we any further use for him?” He tips his chin in Timo’s direction.

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