Page 50 of The Triangle

There is a pause on the other end of the line that might compel some in my situation to repeat themselves. For emphasis or the like.

I don’t.

Finally, after a healthy, long set of beats, Lars says, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right, man. Don’t worry about it. Just… don’t worry about it.”

I can feel Danny glancing at me. I don’t turn my head.

After another beat, Lars says, “So fine. Where are you now?”

“I’m taking Christine somewhere safe.”

“Yeah. Where?”

“Hey, did you hire this new laaitie? Solomon?” I don’t feel like it’s a prudent notion to tell anyone where we’re going. Even Lars.

“Did I? No. Who’s Solomon?”

It’s only just occurring to me to ask. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before. And I only asked now in order to change the subject. But suddenly I’m having a very negative set of feelings about the fact that we weighed the diamonds for Wallace before transporting them, but then when he weighed them himself, we were light. I’m having a negative feeling about the fact that at around the same time, Christine was being thrown off a roof whilst on a job that wasn’t the job I sent her to. And I’m having a negative feeling that there’s a new employee in my organization who wasn’t hired by Lars.

I don’t know if these individual feelings of negativity amount to something greater or not, and not knowing is causing an altogether unique set of negative feelings.

“Never mind, man. What are we doing to find out who fokken ambushed our girl?”

“We think there may be CCTV footage. We’ve got a call out to a source inside the local police to try to get hands on it.”

“Yeah. Good.”

I let it linger for a moment. I debate telling him about the assault at Danny’s apartment, but I only know for certain that I can trust two other people right now. And if you ain’t in this lorrie, you ain’t one of them.

“Call me when you see that footage,” I tell him.

“I will. Is there anything else I can—?”

“Ta, bru,” I say and hang up.

Danny continues looking at me. “Who was that?” he asks.

But I ignore his question as well, because I have to focus on this part very carefully. It’s been a long while since I’ve been here, and it can be tricky.

I approach the end of the road and let the car idle for a moment in front of a towering growth of trees. I’m not certain what kind they are. I’m not a fokken dendrologist. I just know they’re big, and daunting, and provide a curtain of safety for what’s on the other side.

“What the fuck?” asks Danny.

“Shhh,” I say. “I’m trying to remember…”

I count from the left, five massive trunks to the right. I think it’s five. Or was it to the right that I was supposed to start and count left? Aw, kak. I’m just going.

“Whoa,” says Danny, as I drive past the dead end and into the dominating tangle in front of us. “What are you doing? I thought we were going to some goddamn impenetrable fortress. Where are we?”

“We’re there,” I tell him, as I motor us forward into the looming blackness.

CHAPTER TWENTY - CHRISTINE

“What’s going on?” I rub my eyes. “Where am I?” I hate that hazy fog when you wake up and nothing makes sense. I have this weird out-of-body feeling like I’m still dreaming about…

Oh, shit. That was a weird dream. I think it was about—