goodness’ sake,’ I say, losing patience. ‘I won’t be staying. My friend’s missing. I just want to ask the barman a few questions.’
He shrugs again. Why the hell is he being so obstinate?
‘Please. My friend is missing,’ I say. ‘And I’m trying to find her!’
‘Is there a problem?’
I turn around. Konstandin is walking towards us. What’s he doing here? He ignores my frown and looks at the doorman. ‘Why won’t you let her in?’ he asks.
‘It’s because I’m wearing jeans,’ I explain.
Konstandin turns to the boy barring the way and I watch the poor kid cower on his stool like a dog that knows it’s done something wrong and is about to be punished. When I look back at Konstandin I’m startled to see an expression of such intensity and ferociousness even I shrink away, noting for the first time his height and build. He’s at least six feet two, and broad like a boxer, and with those dark hooded eyes, he’s definitely not someone you’d want to meet down a dark alley.
Konstandin says something to the doorman in Portuguese and the boy sullenly lifts the rope to allow us entry. Konstandin steps aside to usher me through ahead of him. Startled, I obey.
‘What did you say to him?’ I whisper as we enter the bar.
‘I told him if he didn’t let us in I would pull his kidney out through his rectum.’
I turn to look at Konstandin over my shoulder, letting out a shocked laugh, but the laugh dies when I see the stern expression on his face. Did he mean it? Or was he joking? It’s very hard to tell.
‘Why are you …?’ I break off, not knowing how to ask him what he’s doing following me. I’m grateful that he helped me but I don’t know why he is.
He shrugs. ‘I figured maybe you need my help,’ he says.
Konstandin takes the lead once we’re inside the bar, heading straight towards the barman. I look around, there are only a dozen or so customers sitting at tables and I glance at the table Kate and I sat at, half-hoping to spot the two men from last night sitting there, or even Kate, but it’s empty. I hadn’t expected to find them here but I’m disappointed nonetheless.
Konstandin rests an elbow on the bar. ‘This lady is looking for her friend,’ he begins, gesturing at me. ‘They were here last night.’
The barman glances at me blankly. ‘I don’t remember.’
‘We were sitting over there,’ I say, pointing at the table where Kate and I sat. ‘With two men. They were about thirty, dressed in suit trousers and shirts.’ I feel Konstandin’s gaze and my face warms. ‘They were very good-looking. Like models.’ Even as I say it I remember the clientele last night. Perhaps that doesn’t much narrow it down.
‘You know who they are?’ Konstandin asks the barman.
The barman turns and grabs a cloth and starts wiping down the counter. ‘Maybe,’ he grunts.
I latch on to that, my pulse leaping. It’s the first real clue I’ve had so far – a tiny breadcrumb that might signal the beginning of a trail that will lead me to Kate. ‘Do they come here often?’ I ask.
‘Sometimes,’ the barman answers. ‘I see them here.’ He stares at me coldly and I wonder why. I’m starting to feel like I have a scarlet letter stamped on my forehead. Is it not the twenty-first century? Is this not a bar where men and women come with the express desire to get drunk, meet people and hook up? Do people not have sex anymore? I never thought the Portuguese were that puritanical but I suppose it is a Catholic country. I just assumed because it was a Latin country the morals were looser but I could be wrong. Or maybe I’m leaping to conclusions. Maybe I’m not being judged at all by this man, and I’m merely paranoid.
‘They come here to meet women?’ Konstandin asks.
The barman gives a half-shrug. He doesn’t seem to want to answer the questions.
‘Do you know their names?’ Konstandin asks. ‘Or anything else about them? Perhaps they paid with a card. It’s important. A woman is missing.’
The barman hesitates then shakes his head.
Konstandin lowers his voice and says something to him in Portuguese. The barman’s expression changes minutely, a flicker of fear registering in his eyes. I glance at Konstandin. His expression is mild, non-threatening, and his tone is even and quite friendly. What on earth is he saying? Why is the man