“His mother was so badly beaten during the rape that she died within hours. Mladen ended up in a refugee camp. It doesn’t say what happened to his sister.” Keely pointed at her screen.
“And it doesn’t explain how Mladen ended up in Spain or how he lost his leg.” Lane looked for his coffee, checked the inside of the empty cup, and tossed it in the garbage.
“There’s something else here that I wonder about.” Keely looked at Lane’s map to see if he’d noticed it as well.
“What’s that?”
“There was a female who was a member of the militia. She guarded the women and children of Mladen’s village while the militiamen drank and slept. Witnesses describe her as a sniper. They also say she was Goran’s wife.”
“You think it’s important?” Lane asked.
“Might be. I haven’t met Jelena yet, but if Goran changed his identity to get into Canada, Jelena could have done the same.”
This is getting muddier instead of clearer. “I don’t know.”
“It’s a possibility.”
“You’re right, of course, but…”
Keely stared at him. “What?”
“Mladen has a motive.”
“I still think we need to check out the woman.” Keely frowned and crossed her arms under her breasts.
“I was hoping for answers and all we’ve got is more questions,” Lane said. “So we need to talk with Jelena again, and we need to find out if this last name will help us find Mladen.”
“I wanted to thank for coming over to my place,” Keely said. “Things went well with my parents after you left.”
“Your dad’s talking to you?” Lane asked.
Keely smiled. “Dylan phoned my mom to tell her what happened. My dad phoned to see if I was okay. Then he came over, and we started to talk.” She wiped her eyes.
“Good.”
They stood in the shade of a pair of towering evergreens on either side of the bungalow’s front sidewalk. The house had a fresh coat of green paint on its stuccoed exterior. It was one of a trio of meticulously manicured homes in Little Italy, a neighbourhood just north of the Calgary Zoo that had become trendy as people with money sought out homes closer to the city’s core. Lane knocked on the door while Keely stood one step lower.
There was an intermittent thump as someone approached the front door along what sounded like a long hallway. The door opened to reveal Leo, in a pair of sweatpants, leaning on his crutch. His bare shoulders were broad and his arms were knotted with muscle. Leo smirked, revealing a mouthful of perfect teeth. “Been expecting you. Come in.”
Lane and Keely followed Leo down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house.
Leo leaned on his crutch near the sink, opened the tap, and filled the coffee maker with water. “Want a cup?”
“Please,” Lane said.
Keely lifted her eyebrows, creating several creases in her forehead. Lane shrugged and sat at the kitchen table. Keely hesitated.
Leo finished with the coffee machine and turned. “What happened to the other guy?”
“Other guy?” Lane asked.
“You know, your partner. The guy with the mustache.” Leo pulled out a chair and leaned his crutch against the wall. He reached for a black T-shirt on the back of the chair, put it on, and sat.
“Detective Saliba is my partner now.” Lane felt Keely’s eyes on him.
“Take a load off, Saliba.” Leo pulled out another chair. Keely sat.
Okay, Lane thought, Let’s get to the point. “We’re looking for Mladen Nezil. This is his last known address.”
“Of course you are.” Leo hooked one arm over the back of his chair. “Mladen lived here for over a year.”
Get as much information as possible before asking for Mladen’s new address. “I think I know why he reacted the way he did when I asked about Borislav Goran.”
“Okay.” Leo stopped smiling. He appeared to be sending a challenge to Lane.
“Goran ordered the massacre.” Let’s see how much he knows.
“The murders. The rapes. Mladen and his sister were the only members of their family to survive that one.” Leo got up when he heard the coffee maker splutter. Lane gathered three cups from the counter. Leo poured.
After he sat down, Leo said, “Mladen told me to tell it all to you. Answer all your questions.”
“How come he’s not here to answer them himself?” Keely asked.
“He saved up enough to buy his own place. Moved there a couple of weeks ago.” Leo watched the detectives’ reactions.
“What happened to Mladen’s surviving sister?” Keely asked.
Nice move.
“She was killed by a mortar. Mladen and his sister traveled to the Canadian headquarters in that area. The Canadians were there on a peacekeeping mission. Mladen and Zara were talking to the soldiers outside the building. The Canadians were behind a sandbag wall. A mortar round dropped on them. It decapitated Zara. A surgeon amputated Mladen’s leg. The Canadians had a kind of operating theatre set up in the car park under their headquarters. When Mladen was well enough, he was transported to Spain, where he went to school and applied to come to Canada.” Leo took a sip of coffee.
“Where does he live now?” Lane asked. I wonder if he’ll tell us.
“First, you need to know this: Mladen still has nightmares about what happened to his family and to him. The soldiers raped him as well as his sister. He came to this country to start fresh and now the past has caught up to him in a particularly horrible way. There’s a fragile strength to the guy. He looks like he’s healthy, but the scars left by what happened to his family open up at the most unexpected times.”
Lane waited.
“Will you treat him with dignity?” Leo asked.
Lane nodded.
“He might not be home. He works two jobs. We’ve got a gig on Friday night at Marda Loop.” Leo grabbed a piece of paper and began to write. “This is Mladen’s address and phone.”
Keely took the paper and handed it to Lane.
“What time’s the performance on Friday?” Lane asked.
“Eight.” Leo stood up and reached for his crutch. “I need to get to work.”
Lane and Keely sat in the sub shop, ate their sandwiches, and drank their coffee while watching the comings and goings across the parking lot at Jelena’s Alterations.
Keely wiped her mouth with a napkin. She glanced at Jordan, who was creating sandwiches behind the glass. “When do you want to go and talk with her?”
“She’ll come over here for a coffee and a smoke. I’d like to question her away from her shop. Besides, that’ll give you more time to check Jordan out.”
Keely blushed and looked out the window as if to prove she hadn’t noticed Jordan’s romance-novel good looks. “Here she comes.”
Jelena blew smoke into the air as she puffed her way across the parking lot. When she got closer, Lane and Keely could see a furious faraway look about her. She set the half-smoked cigarette in an ashtray on the picnic table outside, opened the door to Jordan’s sub shop and walked past the detectives without noticing them.
“Coffee?” Jordan asked.
Jelena nodded.
“Lunch?” Jordan asked.
Jelena shook her head. She held out a five-dollar bill.
“You can’t live on cigarettes.” Jordan smiled as he handed her a coffee and took the five. He looked over her shoulder in the direction of the detectives.
“You’d be surprised at what you can live on.” Jelena appeared to miss Jordan’s warning glance. “When I was in the war, I lived on cigarettes and plum brandy for two weeks. We called them field rations.”
“There’s someone here to see you,” Jordan said.
Jelena stood perfectly still. Lane watched as she studied their reflections in the display glass before putting a lid on her coffee and turning to face them.