Free Cold Kill by Stephen Leather Page A

door was pushed open and Rudi stood on the threshold. Shepherd grinned at him. ‘Hello again,’ he said.
    A uniformed constable gave Rudi a nudge and he stepped inside the cell. The door clanged shut behind him. ‘You are not still in the hospital?’ he asked.
    ‘They said I’m okay,’ said Shepherd, standing up. ‘How’s Jessica?’
    ‘She’s good. Not in danger any more.’
    ‘Why didn’t they let you stay in the hospital?’ asked Shepherd.
    ‘My wife is with her,’ said Rudi. He sat down on the plastic chair. ‘Everything will be okay. I have asked for asylum already. Now they have to get me a lawyer. Soon they will find us a place to live and then I can work.’
    Shepherd smiled, but he knew it wouldn’t be as easy as that. Even without the million euros of counterfeit currency in Rudi’s bags, life as an asylum-seeker wasn’t as rosy as Rudi seemed to imagine. ‘Have they given you anything to eat?’ he asked.
    ‘Last night, but nothing today,’ he said.
    ‘You should tell them you want food,’ said Shepherd, and sat on the bunk. ‘They have to feed you. These people, they won’t do anything for you unless you stand up for your rights.’
    Rudi wiped his face with his hands. ‘I want to be with my wife and daughter,’ he said.
    ‘You can ask your lawyer,’ said Shepherd. ‘They should at least let you see your daughter.’
    ‘What about you?’ asked Rudi. ‘Have they said what will happen to you?’
    ‘Prison,’ said Shepherd.
    ‘But you are a good man,’ said Rudi. ‘You saved my daughter.’
    ‘I was smuggling people,’ said Shepherd. ‘They will send me to prison for that.’
    ‘You have a wife?’
    Shepherd nodded. ‘But we are not together any more.’
    ‘And you have children?’
    ‘A boy.’
    ‘It will not be easy for them if you go to prison.’
    ‘It won’t be for long,’ said Shepherd. ‘Two years, maybe three.’
    ‘I am sorry.’
    ‘It isn’t your fault,’ said Shepherd. ‘It’s nobody’s fault but my own. I decided to break the law so I have to take the consequences.’
    ‘It makes no sense,’ said Rudi. ‘I broke the law but your government will find me a place to live and take care of my family. You broke the law and you will go to prison.’
    ‘Shit happens,’ said Shepherd.
    Rudi frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Sometimes bad things happen. No matter what you do, no matter how carefully you make plans, things go wrong.’
    ‘Shit happens,’ Rudi repeated. ‘It is true.’
    Shepherd lay back on the bunk. Rudi was about to discover how true it was. Shepherd would take no pleasure in what he was about to do, but Rudi was a means to an end. ‘I heard the police talking about you,’ said Shepherd, quietly.
    Rudi stiffened. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘They found something on the boat,’ said Shepherd. ‘They think it belongs to you.’
    The legs of the chair scraped along the floor as Rudi got up. ‘What did they find?’ he said. ‘What did they say?’
    Shepherd sat up again slowly and swung his feet to the floor. He shrugged. ‘I just overheard two cops talking, that’s all. About some cans in your luggage.’
    ‘Cans? They said cans?’
    ‘Cans of oil. Did you have some with you?’
    Rudi had paled. ‘Did they open them?’ he said.
    ‘I’m not sure,’ said Shepherd. ‘I was in the corridor and there were two policemen talking. Detectives, I think.’
    ‘Detectives?’
    ‘They weren’t wearing uniforms. Why?’
    Rudi began to pace up and down, his hands bunched into fists.
    ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Shepherd.
    ‘Nothing,’ said Rudi.
    ‘It doesn’t look like nothing,’ said Shepherd.
    Rudi stopped pacing. ‘Did they say anything else?’
    ‘The detectives? No. But one of the cops was asking me about the bags.’
    ‘Asking what?’
    ‘He showed me photographs of all the baggage in the hold and asked me if I knew who they belonged to.’
    ‘Why did they want to know that?’
    ‘I guess they wanted to see who