“Also a decision made without my knowledge. My husband continues to believe the ways of our mother country are best. Unfortunately, that has not always proven to be the case. But he will be paying the price for his mistakes, and he will keep his mouth shut. Mr. Kuzmenko is another matter. This tape of yours — that was sheer stupidity on his part. That alone I might have forgiven, though it forced my Maxim to accept a plea. His decision to sell drugs, however, was a different matter.”
“Sell drugs? Or sell them for his own account?”
That pissed her off. She pursed her lips, then continued.
“I believe Mr. Kuzmenko must be punished for his disloyalty. Certainly that is something we could address on our own. But I felt it best that you be present — consider it my way of apologizing for the inconveniences we have caused for you.”
Sure. An apology. And a threat. But if she thought one of them could set Kuzmenko on fire or blast him with energy without consequences, she was wrong. I resisted checking on Ted to make sure he was getting all of this on tape.
“Mr. Rath?”
The Asian nodded, and began walking towards Kuzmenko.
“You’re not planning anything stupid, I hope. There are a whole lot of witnesses here.”
“Witnesses?” She laughed. “They are hollow automatons. Tell me, which of these people has spent more than five minutes in the past year considering their purpose on this planet? Or contemplating how they might change the world? None of them.”
Hey. If you’re going to pose a question, you could have the courtesy to allow me to answer.
“They are drones. Concerned with the past two hours and the next five minutes. How do I pay the bills, where will little Johnny go to school, does my boss like me. Faced with the remarkable, or the terrible, they cannot compute. That is why a woman can be raped and murdered in broad daylight, or a politician can lie outright, and no one is punished. Do not kid yourself, Mr. Elder. Those who even turn to watch will convince themselves that all is not as it seems. Or that someone else will do something. And by the time they get home, the events that pass here will have been tucked into a deep corner of their minds, in order that they can focus their attention on what to wear to that party on Friday. They don’t want to know anything that would threaten the numb comfort of the lives they have built themselves.”
It was a scary thought, and the sad part was that I thought she was right. But that was why we were there. To do something about these people.
I watched as Rath approached Niki. The big Russian sat still, seemingly too beat up and tired to move.
Rath stopped in front and to the side of Kuzmenko, glancing down at the big man for just a moment before looking out over the fountain and several children wading in the clear pool. He reached out, placing his hand to Niki’s forehead, like a father checking a child for fever. His other hand flicked ash from his cigarette onto the concrete, then returned it to his lips.
For a moment, Niki remained slumped over, unresponsive. Then his head lifted, eyes filled with fear and confusion.
“Remarkable, isn’t it? Man fears nothing as much as pain. Yet pain itself is ephemeral. Pain alone leaves no marks. Is my pain greater or less than yours? Did her childbirth leave deeper psychological scars than his heart attack?”
I watched as Niki’s back arched, his chest heaving to gain air.
“What the hell…” I began to move towards Rath. No matter how much I hated that idiot Niki, this was wrong.
I was still ten feet away when the air changed. If you have ever been in an open field during a lightning storm, you will know the feeling. Edgy, metallic. Niki’s body quaked, and his mouth opened wide in a silent scream.
Then he slumped over, tipping until he fell face first to the pavement. I ran to his side to check his pulse, but I knew there was no point. The Russian was dead.
“Mother…”
I stood and drew my hand back for a punch. But I didn’t throw one. There was no point. Niki was dead. Which might very well have been a good thing, depending on how you looked at the world. I was pretty sure Rath couldn’t hurt me, but the margin for error on that assessment was razor thin. He watched me through the swirl of blue smoke off his cigarette, impassive. Elena strode over to join him.
“We will part ways now, Mr. Elder. It is my sincere hope our paths never cross again.”
As I stood there, not four feet from Niki’s cooling body, Rath moved to her side and they began strolling back to the limo. She stopped, turned, and in a stage whisper called out:
“Oh. Please say hello to your colleagues for me.” With that she cast a wave at Clay and Sol, then Ted, and walked away.
CHAPTER 33
My hope was that we would have video evidence of Elena’s involvement in Niki’s death. Unfortunately, that hope proved unfounded. Moments later, Clay, Sol and I watched as Ted ran us through the video — a perfect recording of Niki taking a seat by the fountain with the assistance of a limo driver, then a minute later arching his back in pain, crying out, and falling dead to the concrete. Despite viewing the tape several times, the three of us huddled around the small camera in the middle of Nathan Phillips Square, we saw no sign of Mr. Rath. It was as though he had never been there.
By the time we tore our eyes away from the small LCD screen, Niki was no longer there either. All that remained of the incident were a few clumps of ash from Rath’s cigarette, already drifting away in the soft breeze.
The next day, the following article appeared on page A13 of the Daily Times:
LEGENKO ASSOCIATE FOUND DEAD
Nikolay Kuzmenko, aged 41, was found dead of unknown causes in a Bay Street condominium early Saturday morning, the police reported yesterday. Mr. Kuzmenko was rumored to be an associate of Maxim Legenko, the former CEO of Ruscan Investments, who pled guilty earlier this week to charges of fraud and money laundering.
A police spokesperson, Sgt. Neil Cooper, said a neighbor called 911 at about 7:30 A.M. Saturday after finding the body of Mr. Kuzmenko in the living room of his open seventh floor unit. Kuzmenko resided at the Century Club Towers, a condominium complex at 1057 Bay Street, just south of Charles Street West.
Kuzmenko, who Sgt. Cooper referred to as “known to police”, served three years in prison for trafficking and assault, and was released from Joyceville Institution in 2004. He was charged two weeks ago with possession with intent of trafficking and conspiracy to commit an indictable offence, in connection with the raid of a Rev lab in an industrial warehouse on Greylawn Street last week, the first raid of its kind in Canada. Rev began appearing in Toronto clubs and raves late last year.
Detectives would not comment on any possible connection between Mr. Legenko and the Rev operation.
CHAPTER 34
It was August 6th, and I had been with Arcane Transport for exactly three months. It felt like I should be getting a gold watch.
My first ninety days had been hectic, to say the least. But I was starting to feel comfortable at last. Jim, Harold and Jamar were handling the majority of deliveries now that things had calmed down, giving me a chance to do some meet-and-greets with those customers I had not met face-to-face. Our days were a little less crazy, and I hadn’t heard from the Legenkos or their colleagues in over a month.
Maxim Legenko had been transferred to Collins Bay in Kingston, and was apparently adjusting well to prison life. I wished him a long and pleasant stay.
Niki Kuzmenko was cremated, and a memorial placed in his name at York Cemetery in North York. I visited the site two weeks ago, to satisfy some strange need for closure. Someone had spray-painted his monument with a single word. Traitor.