Read The Devil's Playground Online
Authors: Stav Sherez
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General
thoughts.
She shrugged. ‘It’s not. Nothing’s working. Nothing’s
right.’
‘Are you sure this friend of yours can come up with the
goods?’
She looked up, distant, and, he thought, so beautiful in
that moment.
‘I’m sure,’ she replied. She knew how important it was for
him. She thought of last night’s phone call to Wouter. She’d
hated doing it but she’d asked for the favour anyway. Had
to endure his sarcasm and witticisms until he’d said, yes, he
knew where such a thing could be watched. Then he’d asked
her about Jon, prying little details. She’d put the phone down
shaking. She’d thought Wouter hadn’t cared that much about
their split but it was obvious he had and she wasn’t looking
forward to the evening ahead.
‘Where’re we meeting your friend?’
‘He owns a shop in the District, I said we’d meet him
there.’ She slipped on her glasses. Jon rose and, for a moment,
they almost touched, almost fell back into the old patterns,
but like poles of the same charge they turned from each
other at the last minute.
‘Jon, this is Wouter.’ She introduced him to the tall
Dutchman who sat behind a small table in the back of the
porn shop.
‘Glad to meet you, Jon.’ He got up and shook Jon’s hand
vigorously, squeezing hard. ‘Suze tells me you want to find
out about the other Amsterdam.’ He was grinning like a
child. Suze could smell the burnt tangy coke in the air and
could tell by his eyes that he’d been at it all day. She thought
of taking Jon and walking away. But she knew he wouldn’t
leave.
Jon nodded, looking up at this mountain of a man, curious
and a little scared. He heard a dog barking in the back room.
The hum of elevators ascending.
‘So, Wouter, where are you taking us?’ Suze said, flicking
ash off her cigarette for what seemed to Jon like the hundredth
time that minute.
‘Jon wanted to see the preview, that’s where we’re going.
I have it all arranged.’ Wouter looked at him. His eyes were
close together and they seemed angled in a strange way as if
he could see areas of the room that were obscured from
normal sight.
‘So, this is him then?’ he said to Suze.
Jon looked at her but she didn’t reply. He knew he’d
missed something.
‘Have a drag on this, you look nervous as hell,’ Wouter
said, handing Jon the joint.
He took a deep pull and suddenly his head spun out from
his neck and his eyes screamed against their sockets. The
world lit up. Suddenly, painfully there.
‘Coke,’ Suze whispered, taking his hand. ‘Everyone here
smokes it. Latest fashion, all very decadent. You’ll appreciate
it when we’re out there in the swarm.’
Jon took three more monster drags before handing it back.
They walked past the Old Church and through groups of
shaven-headed, middle-aged English men, drunk and bleary,
staggering in each other’s arms through the streets, shouting
and abusing the window-girls they passed. It was a weekend
and the binge tourists were out in force, walking in serpentine
steps, puking in corners or sitting bug-eyed staring at a single
cobblestone for three hours. They stumbled through the
crowded streets of the District, between bar and sex shop, watching men choosing their girls for the night, the fathers who’d brought their sons to learn the facts of life, the
lovers attempting to rekindle their sex lives and the latents
trying to persuade themselves that a woman’s body was still
attractive.
The early mass of tourists had changed now, if not in
number then in gender and type. Suze saw no other women
except those behind glass and she felt sad at how the men
who passed looked at her, even though there were far more
beautiful girls on offer; but it seemed for some that was just
too easy. She walked between Jon and Wouter sensing herself
paraded here, wondering why she suddenly felt like that,
having been in this area so many times before. She thought
about what she was doing. Helping Jon with his search or
still trying to stop him? More of the latter, she knew. She
noticed how Wouter kept staring at him. It worried her. It
wasn’t all just surface, she wanted Jon to see that, to realize
what lay beneath.
They stopped in a cafe and Wouter went into the back
room with the manager, coming out a few minutes later.
‘It’s all set up,’ Wouter said, checking his watch. ‘In an
hour, okay?’
‘Who’re we meeting?’ Jon said, feeling better now that
they were enclosed, away from the crowds.
‘Mr Nagatha. He runs an establishment in the District.
That’s where it’s showing.’ Wouter shook a Marlboro out of
his pack, flipped it into his mouth. ‘There’s something I
want you to see first, Jon. Something I think you’ll be
interested in.’
He led them into the back room of the cafe. ‘The manager’s
a friend of mine, keeps me updated about certain
things.’ Wouter stepped over to the desk and flicked the
computer into life. He keyed in some lines of code and lit
another of his foul-smelling joints. ‘Nazi films isn’t all there
is. There’s a lot of things that can be bought at auction these
days.’
Suze and Jon looked at each other, blank and lost, as
Wouter typed in the address and waited for the home page
to download.
“We have to access it from this computer because of, how
can I say? … security issues?’
The home page was basic, like a spare-time website, a
white background with large type scrolling down. On the
left frame was a series of hyperlinks:
Conrad
Bjiiy
James
Russell
Francis
Benjamin
‘What the hell is this?’ Jon asked.
‘Here.’ Wouter clicked on the first hyperlink. The screen
went blank.
As the photo slowly downloaded on to the screen, Jon
felt a sickness rising inside him, a black nausea that swept
his head and stomach. He took Suze’s hand and held it,
looking at the full-length picture of the naked boy and the
group of stats beside him.
Age: 6
Country of origin: United States
Status: Untouched*
Acquisition date: January 1999
Training: No
Starting bid: $50,000 US
Reserve: Yes
Bid limit: None
Time remaining: 56 minutes
* While we make every attempt to verify our information, we accept no liability towards false or misrepresented information.
Below that, a short description:
A rare and exciting opportunity to acquire such a fine specimen. As mentioned, he is untouched and has been kept off the market until this sale. He is good-natured and unproblematic and there is sure to be a lot of demand from bidders.
And:
Buyer arranges pick-up, shipping and all other attendant costs. Buyer must be a registered and cleared member. Bids from anyone lacking these credentials will not be accepted.
Jon looked back to the picture of Conrad, the thin boy’s
frame that hung dejected in front of the camera, his uncut
hair and the sad twist of his mouth. He noticed that all the
auctions were due to end in the next few hours and he
wondered how many people around the world, at this very
moment, were looking at the same page, clicking on the same
links and reaching for their credit cards and secret passwords.
The electronic medium took away none of the horror, for
he knew that behind the ones and zeros lay real boys in real
rooms tied to real beds awaiting the rest of their lives.
*You see, you can get anything you want in this city,’
Wouter said as he switched off the computer. Y^ou, my
friend, know nothing.’
Suze noticed his voice was getting shriller and that he was
enjoying goading Jon. She sensed a maliciousness in Wouter
she’d not felt before, a honing of his sarcasm and repressed
rage. She wondered if this whole thing was a set-up. If
Wouter had some plan, some way to get back at Jon, make
him suffer. Perhaps this had been a terrible idea.
‘You have the money, then Amsterdam has the goods.’
‘Why here?’ Jon asked, still thinking about the boy’s
mouth. Ghosts caught on film. Images of the dead. All
around him now.
‘Amsterdam is the new city of sin, every taste can be
catered for here as long as you have the money.’
‘You sound disapproving,’ Suze said, her hand on Jon’s
knee. She felt she needed to take control of this situation,
insert herself between these two men.
‘No, not at all. It’s good that all these things are on offer.
You must know as well as I do that there’s no point in
pretending they don’t exist or in outlawing them. They do
exist, or rather the need and desire for them exists in certain
people and you can’t ever get rid of that. As they say, “Any
crime that can be committed, is.” But just because everything
is on offer here, doesn’t necessarily mean you need to
have it.
‘Everybody has to ask themselves how far will they
go, and everybody needs to see what they are capable of.
For me that is a basic requisite of freedom and if it means
some bad shit will occur in the process then it’s a small price
to pay.’
Wouter took out another coke joint from his pocket and
fired it up. He turned to an old tape deck and hit play. The
opening notes of ‘London Calling’ came pounding out of
the speakers, followed by Simonon’s questioning bass line
and finally Strummer’s voice, ravaged and raving, a witness
to the end.
Jon picked up his glass, saw that his fingers were resting
on the breast of the woman moulded around it and downed
the warm, stinging liquid. He didn’t know what to say. His
head was spinning faster than a waltzer. He couldn’t get off
this particular ride. Wouter made him uncomfortable and he
wasn’t sure why. He’d guessed there was something between
him and Suze, something unrequited probably.
‘Mr Nagatha, that’s where he made his money.’ Wouter
passed Jon the joint. ‘Take it,’ he snapped when Jon feebly
declined. ‘Or so the rumour goes.’
Jon looked at Wouter. Was he the same shape and height
as the man who’d been following him? It was near enough
to make him shiver.
‘He was a sex slaver?’ Suze asked.
‘Yes. Very careful about whom he picked. Only the finest
specimens ended up on his private jet, bound for Africa. He
had men roaming the capital cities of Europe, the holiday
resorts of North Africa, finding and acquiring stock. A tourist
goes into a shop in Tangiers to ask the price of a leather bag
and never comes out again. Her husband waits patiently
outside smoking cigarettes and when she doesn’t appear he
goes in and is told that they haven’t seen any European
women come into their shop today. The man will search
the shop, tear the place apart, call the police, but all to
no avail — by the time he’s realized that she’s even missing,
she’s already on her way to an airport. A cargo plane. A
new life.’
‘That still happens?’ said Jon, shocked despite himself.
The idea of just disappearing like that was terrifying. The
world had so many holes into which a person could fall.
‘Happens all the time.’ Wouter laughed, looking at Suze.
*You hear about missing people and you know some of them
are headed for the auction block. Nagatha quit a few years
back, sold his business and retired here, but countless other
auctions still go on, every day. Remember, where there’s
demand there’s product — the basic axiom of capitalism taken
to one of its darker corners.’ He lit a cigarette. ‘You know,
someone came into the shop a few weeks ago, had a range
of home-made videos he wanted to sell me. I took him to
the back room, and watched them. They were all crush
videos. Footage of a woman stepping on rabbits and small
puppies, breaking their spines slowly with her feet.’
‘Did you buy them?’ Suze asked, appalled.
‘Hell, no. But someone else will.’
There was no sign above the door and only one bouncer to
even suggest that anything was going on behind the black
smoked windows of Mr Nagatha’s. Wouter whispered something
to the meat monkey, who checked on his walkie-talkie
before allowing them in.
Jon had imagined chains, blood and the black wings of
whips cracking in the smoky air. What he was not expecting
to see was a smart restaurant full of people in suits eating
and drinking amid the sharp Modernist lines of the decor.
The only unusual thing, Jon noticed, as they were led to a
table, was that all the diners were men.
‘It’s a fully functioning restaurant. Damn good food too.
Took a few favours to get you two in. This, though, is just
the waiting room,’ Wouter added and poured them some
wine. He kept staring at Jon and smiling in a way that made
Suze feel uneasy.
Fifteen minutes later a waiter came up to their table and