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“You seem to already know a lot about this case.”

“Which is either praise for my men’s quick work this morning or a diplomatic way of saying that we’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves here. True. And I’m not suggesting at all that you rule out other possibilities. I’m only telling you where our earliest leads are pointing.”

“Then you have some leads for me.”

“Yes, although only in the broadest sense.”

Kasic pulled open a desk drawer, one that presumably had been filled with Vitas’ own work until this morning. He removed four thin file folders and placed them on the desk. “I’m told these people might be of some help,” he said, tapping the files. “They’ve already steered us in a certain direction, as I said.”

“And these people are …?”

“One is a butcher. The other’s a production foreman at the cigarette plant. The other two are involved in the supply of black-market whiskey. All four have been doing some undercover work for us. They’d heard things about Vitas before now, but naturally they hardly felt free to pass it along while he was in charge.”

“Word must have traveled fast.”

“In these sorts of networks it usually does. These four gentlemen came forward with their stories before I even reached my desk this morning. Motivated by the thought of bonuses, no doubt. It’s yet another way of profiteering, and these people are hardly without their own guilt. In fact, my biggest concern about not having our own people on this is that I’m afraid at times you’ll feel like a fish out of water. Our sources aren’t exactly the conventional sort, even for undercover people. We can’t pay them much to begin with, so most of their wages come from skimming their own profits from the system we’re trying to shut down. Which of course puts us in the odd position of having to tolerate it. Let’s face it, we’re all novices at this game. Before the war half of them were either driving taxis or living in some mountain village, wondering how many eggs they might be able to steal from the neighbor’s henhouse. Ask this ‘butcher’ here where to cut a rack of lamb and he’ll probably point to the rump. Even the racketeers who had some experience beforehand are operating at a level now they never would have dreamed of, with their own private armies, even now, even after October. But these informers at least know the streets, even if they aren’t always what you’d call street smart. A bit rough around the edges you’ll likely find.”

“Sounds like they’re not much good for anything.”

“I wonder that myself sometimes. But Vitas always figured they were worth it.”

“Maybe because he was using them to tie him into the market.”

“Possibly, and if that’s so then any of their information could be suspect. But for the moment it’s the only place we have to start. Unless of course you turn up something. Or unless there was something at the scene. But from what I saw of your report earlier, there was little or nothing.”

So he had read the report. “Yes, precious little.” Vlado thought for a moment of the folded paper in his pocket, with the name and address in Dobrinja, then let the thought pass without comment.

“Yet I must say,” Kasic said, “even though these people of ours are far from angels, their stories ring true.”

“What makes you say that?”

“What reason would they have for lying? Sure, they might pick up a few D-marks for their troubles, but passing the word on something like this would only seem to make them vulnerable to whoever gave the order.”

“Unless they’re in league with whoever gave the order.”

“Maybe. But we’ve done a pretty good job of vetting these people. And don’t think that we haven’t ever checked up on them. There are others who do nothing but inform on our informers, just to make sure we’re getting a straight story. So I doubt they’d risk their relationship with us by peddling us rubbish. We can put them out of business very quickly. Besides, these four men work in four different places, with three different products, and they live in different parts of town. As far as we know, they’ve never even spoken to each other. Yet their stories are strikingly similar, at least in the way they pertain to Vitas. And another thing, at their roots, all of these illegal operations are quite simple, whether you’re talking about chain of command or chain of supply. Their aims are simple, too: lots of money with as little trouble as possible. Even when it’s tempting to look for complicated solutions and convoluted schemes, the longer you see these people at work the more you realize what a straightforward master greed usually is.

“So I think you can take these men at their word, at least on the big picture. Which might be all you’ll get from them anyway. Don’t expect much detail. For one thing, it’s never been their strength. They’re informers, not trained investigators. For another, they can’t help but have some fear of whoever’s still calling the shots. Killing someone of the rank of an Esmir Vitas tends to have a very bad effect on people’s memories. But they’re a start, which now is all I have to offer.”

“Even assuming they’re telling the truth,” Vlado said, “is there anyone that high up left in the rackets, anyone still powerful enough to order this murder? In meat, cigarettes and whiskey, I mean. It’s hardly the top of the line. Not like gasoline. Or human beings, for that matter.”

Vlado could imagine Grebo cringing through his last remark. Doubtless he’d just betrayed some egregious hole of ignorance on the workings of the black market.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” Kasic answered. “Maybe Vitas thought in his own odd way that he was being ethical by not dealing in the greatest areas of desperation, fuel and freedom. Meat’s a luxury, and perishable at that. It’s not like you can hoard it as currency. But, cigarettes, let’s face it, they’re the closest thing some people have to hard currency It’s how we pay our soldiers, or police. Ever since October we’ve sensed a certain desperation settling into all these markets as supplies have tightened. And if you’re already feeling the squeeze and then suddenly the chief of the Interior Ministry’s police elbows into your field, well, you can see how someone might see that as a matter of life or death, no matter how powerful Vitas was. But your point is well taken. Our side of the river wouldn’t seem to have too many people left with enough clout to order this sort of thing.”

“Then you think the order could have come from across the river. From the Serbs.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“Meaning that even if we can identify who gave the order, we may not be able to do anything about it.”

“Like I said. A possibility.” He stubbed out another Marlboro. “And not a happy one. But it would at least be enough to satisfy the U.N., especially coming from someone outside our department. It might even serve our purpose better. Put more of the blame on the opposite bank of the Miljacka and maybe they’ll see our arguments a little more clearly But this brings me to the most disturbing element of what we know of Vitas. It concerns his possible contacts with the other side.

“Vitas grew up in Grbavica, you know,” Kasic said. “In fact, you knew him as a boy, didn’t you? Although I believe you were better friends with his younger brother.”