That was to be expected. If he’d taken Lev up on his offer and partied with the kind of women he liked to sleep with, he probably had five different kinds of herpes on top of his failing liver. “I wasn’t there. I left early.”
Someone else entered the store, raising a hand and moving to the sandwich counter. With a last reproachful look, Mariya broke from me to serve up. I made my way through the shop, past the display of cakes I had never tried, and through a curtained doorway to the back-of-house. The halls were cramped, stacked with old boxes and sacks of stock used in the restaurant. A door near the rear entry was ajar, and the familiar smooth smell of Chesterfields wafted out from behind it.
Inside, Vassily was engrossed in a hand of Solitaire, his cigarette hanging absentmindedly from his fingers. He jerked his head up as I came in and then sighed, setting down his spares and pushing his hair back from his face. “Jesus Christ, Alexi.”
“They only call me Alexi, these days.” I bowed and spread my hands to the sides, but I don’t think he got the joke.
“Okay, so, I’d just like you to know that I’m really happy you didn’t explode,” he said. “And also, I thought telling Mari that your car is sitting downtown loaded up with C-4 might not be a great idea. So I didn’t.”
“I think that was a very sensible conclusion,” I replied as I took my seat. “Neither did I.”
“Well, you know how it is. Great minds think alike.” Vassily drew hard on his smoke and exhaled with a sound of pleasure and relief. “Come on, sit down. We can get lunch and go home. I called Lev, and he said he’ll send Ivanko and some other guy to fix your car.”
Ivanko was one of Nicolai’s old comrades in the Spetznaz GRU,[16] and he probably knew more about car bombs than I ever would… assuming it was not magically triggered. “Thank you.”
“No problem. You look like fifty kinds of shit.” Vassily stubbed out his cigarette in the tray. He didn’t light another. “Am I gonna have to start going places with you? Make sure you don’t get into trouble?”
That reminded me acutely of the night before, his stepping up to Petro. I scrutinized him as I had Mariya. She was right: he looked dreadful. Thin, eyes sunken, brow sheened with sweat. He smelled of smoke and expired brandy. “We’re not in school anymore, Vasya. Petro was right. I can take shit and solve my own problems.”
“I ain’t questioning that.” He looked away and turned a few cards over, shuffling through the deck. “Not at all. But do you really think that bomb was set up by some other crew?”
I made a tutting sound. “I have no reason to think Lev would send me on a job and then try to kill me the morning after, if that’s what you’re implying.”
Vassily sighed. “Not necessarily Lev, but I wouldn’t be surprised, you know? You did just kill Sem Vochin, and that dead Italian guy turned up yesterday. And I mean… he looked like he was killed with magic, didn’t he?”
I grunted. Now that I was in cool, familiar surroundings, I was really feeling that tiredness. The burn in my muscles, an ache deep in my joints. “I was told not to discuss it with anyone. So was Nic. I don’t know why he didn’t keep his mouth shut.”
“Because Nic doesn’t trust Lev as far as he could kick him, and he wants people to know what’s going on.” Vassily’s voice took on a familiar stubborn tone, one I hadn’t heard in many years. Insistent, distracted. He was a very intelligent man. Cavalier as he was, we both had earned our scholarships, and he’d always been my better at mathematics and chess. “Nic says a lot of guys have been dying since Lev took the throne.”
“Nic was also the one who told me to tell you not to try and take him down.”
“Well, sure. I’d be fucking crazy to. One bad word to my parole officer, and I’m back in the slammer.” Vassily scowled and toyed with the crushed cigarette. His usually restless hands were shaking, trembling as they roamed. “But I’m going to collect the information, and I’m going to hold onto it because damned if I’m gonna let some white-collar desk monkey destroy this place. I’ve got an MBA, Lexi. I know what guys like this do. They come in and clean an organization out, strip it bare, and fuck off to Miami with all the money. The only reasons he’s in the big man’s chair is because he’s got Sergei, Vanya and all of AEROMOR’s union guys backing him, and because of this cocaine gig. He’s got the boats and the goods.”
I exhaled thinly and rubbed my mouth with the palm of my glove. “For now. He… has me on another job already.”
Vassily pursed his lips, cocked an eyebrow enquiringly, and mimed shooting someone with thumb and forefinger. “Another friend of his?”
“No. A contact. He wants him alive.”
“Huh.” Vassily began to layer and sort the spares. His fingers were still shaky, but he played three-card Solitaire with the kind of skill that spoke of long practice. “Well, speaking of business, Nic already set me up with something. I can’t fucking believe it. Same day I get out, and he’s hanging the millstone around my neck. Oy. I have to see my parole officer on Monday.”
“He asked you to work already?” I rested my forehead on my hand, leaning on the tabletop. “That’s… unnecessary.”
“Tell me ’bout it. But it’s good money, and good reputation. It’s pretty easy shit, too: dry cleaning at Atlantic City and a date with George Laguetta. Says that he and Lev need my silver tongue to butter up the Family, so we’ll cycle the cash, wine and dine them. I’ll get enough money to set me up for the year once it’s all said and done.”
Putting Vassily under all those cameras alongside a known Don and in light of Vincent’s disappearance? “No. Vasya, I have a dreadful feeling about this.”
“Why?” He frowned.
“Because the man Lev has asked me to find and return is the man who arranged this whole cocaine business for Laguetta and Lev in the first place,” I said. “He was supposed to be at a meeting last night and never showed. The whole thing—”
“Smells like shit, yeah.” Vassily cut me off, shaking his head. “But I already gave my word. I won’t lose face to Nic by backing out. And honestly, man, I need the money. The government took all my stocks. I have to get a hold of my old broker and hope he’s willing to work my fake ID and build up my portfolio from scratch.”
I ground my teeth until they creaked and crossed my arms. “Well, if you have to go, I go with you. I’m your bodyman for this event. Let the Laguettas wonder how you’re able to field a spook as personal protection.”
“Even if you weren’t a spook, you’re the hardest man in this crew. Of course I want you there.” Vassily smacked another card down. “And you know what? I told Nic I want Yuri on my other side. You know, Yuri Beretzniy? His old war buddy. He’s like a million years old, but I’m pretty sure that guy eats lead and broken glass for breakfast. Figured that’d remind Nic who calls personnel around here.”
“He’s missing.” I rubbed my face again. The fatigue was eating into my ability to focus. “Yuri, that is.”
Vassily looked up sharply. “What?”
“Missing.” I glanced down at the rows of cards. “He didn’t show for work last night.”
“Yuri? Missing? But I mean… how?”
“Probably the way most men go,” I replied. “By surprise.”
“No way. That guy’s a seriously tough motherfucker.”
I looked up at him pensively. “Sometimes it doesn’t matter how tough you are. He’s gone missing with the man I’ve been tasked to find, Vincent.”
“Huh. Maybe Yuri cut some money and ran off with him, then. That happens, even with the old guys.”