While Isabella answered, Kirilo cupped the phone and whispered to Pavel, “Isabella’s free. Go get Stefan and the other man. Tell them to be ready.”
“I’m going to take a bath and order something to eat,” Isabella said.
“Good, good,” Kirilo said, returning his attention to the phone. “Lock all the doors. I’m going to arrange for some men to come guard the house. When they get there, call me before you let them in.”
The men who were tracking the Timkiv twins on his behalf must have gotten close, Kirilo thought. Victor, not knowing if it was his men or someone else, didn’t want to take the chance that something would happen to her on their watch, so he let her go. This meant Victor had never truly intended to hurt Isabella under any circumstances.
Still, the Bitch had to die.
Pavel, Stefan, and Kirilo’s other bodyguard were descending down the stairs to the cellar.
Kirilo rushed out of the meat locker and slammed the freezer door shut. He slid the deadbolt in place, leaving Victor’s men, his two other bodyguards, and Johnny Tanner trapped inside.
Victor dropped his phone and reached for his gun.
“Don’t,” Kirilo said, pointing at Stefan and the other bodyguard, who’d already brandished their weapons and were aiming them at Victor from the bottom of the steps.
Victor raised his arms with a look of resignation.
Fists pounded against the meat locker door. The men inside screamed for someone to open it.
Kirilo walked up to Victor, took his gun, and handed it to Pavel. Kirilo ripped his belt from around his waist. He wrapped it around the Bitch’s neck and savored the look of futility in his eyes.
“The key to leverage is to maintain your advantage,” Kirilo said. “Because the minute you lose it, you’re dead.”
Kirilo stared into Victor’s eyes and pulled on the ends of the belt.
Two thumps sounded in rapid succession behind Kirilo. The sounds were muted but loud enough for him to recognize them. They were gunshots. Muted by a silencer.
Kirilo swung around, dragging Victor with him like an unwilling dance partner.
Pavel and the bodyguard were lying on the floor with holes in their heads. Stefan aimed his gun at Kirilo, a silencer attached to its barrel.
“Release him,” Stefan said.
Kirilo removed his belt from Victor’s neck.
“You were right,” Victor said. “Ten million divided by two is not much more than ten million divided by three. But this formula… It really is a different matter.”
Victor took the gun from Stefan.
It was all happening so quickly, yet in slow motion. Kirilo wanted to bargain, to offer Victor a deal in exchange for his life, but he knew it was hopeless. Victor was going to kill him. The Bitch was going to kill him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Isabella,” Kirilo said, pleading with his eyes, embarrassed at the weakness in his voice.
“I would never harm my niece,” Victor said. “You have my word as a thief.”
The last thing Kirilo saw was an image of his daughter, innocent and sweet.
The last thing he heard was the suppressed sound of a gun firing a bullet into his brain.
CHAPTER 83
VICTOR HELPED STEFAN move the bodies into a closet until he could dispose of them the way they disposed of all the bad meat at the deli.
“You’re the best chess player the world never knew,” Stefan said.
“No. The best chess player the world never knew died in Chernobyl village last week. Did your men have any problem getting into my apartment?”
“No. No problem.”
“How is she?”
“The maiden and the dove, the dove and the maiden.” Stefan sighed with uncharacteristic delight. “They look at home on my living room wall. I love them so.”
“Of course you do. You have one hundred thousand reasons to love them. Have you heard from my—have you heard from Tara? Did she get the money you wired for me?”
“She did. She is good. She’s still hiding in upstate New York. You should call her and tell her to come home. Your word was good, Victor. Misha will never harm her again.”
“No,” Victor said, remembering the moment when Kirilo killed him. “No, he won’t. But first, we have to take care of business. You’re going to have to dispose of the two inside the meat locker, too.”
“What about Johnny Tanner?”
“No, no. A man does not survive in America by killing officers of the court. Send him out to me while you take care of Kirilo’s two men in the meat locker. I’ll make sure he understands that he was never here, that a dozen people will swear we were playing chess in the park all morning, and that no one in this neighborhood ever saw him, even if they did. He’ll listen. He’s a survivor. Look at him. He’s from the streets. He won’t risk his life or Nadia’s.”
Thirty seconds later, Johnny Tanner emerged from the freezer, shirt and suit jacket in hand, looking surprisingly composed. Stefan remained inside and closed the door behind him. While Johnny Tanner dressed, Victor explained the reality of life to him, in accordance with what he’d told Stefan. A cell phone in one of the lawyer’s pockets vibrated twice before Victor finished.
“Do we understand each other?” Victor said.
“I don’t know,” Johnny Tanner said as he straightened his tie. “If any harm comes to Nadia, I’m going to find you and square it, and if I don’t, I got friends who will. So you tell me. Do we understand each other?”
His cell phone vibrated again.
Victor waved his gun at Johnny’s pants pocket. “Is someone calling you?”
“No. Voice mail.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Let’s hear your voice mail. Maybe a mutual friend of ours left you a message. Let’s hear what she has to say.”
CHAPTER 84
AS SOON AS Nadia entered the Underground, she didn’t have to wonder anymore if anyone had found the body of the man who was shot before her eyes. There, at a small table, reading a Ukrainian newspaper and looking decidedly alive and healthy, sat Yuri Banya, the man who’d pretended to be Max Milan.
Yuri said to Nadia, “I’m not surprised to see you. We knew you’d figure it all out eventually.”
“You’re giving me more credit than I deserve,” Nadia said. The scene that had started it all flashed in her mind. Banya. A gunshot. A big old American sedan. “I haven’t figured anything out. I thought you were dead. But you’re alive.”
“Yes. Last I checked.”
“And looking none the worse for wear.”
“Thank the Lord.”
“In fact, you don’t look like a man who cheated death… How many days ago was it? Seventeen? No, eighteen. You don’t look like a man who spent eighteen days in a hospital recovering from a gunshot wound to the chest.”
His eyes twinkled. “I’ve always been a fast healer.”
“I’m looking for a boy. My nephew—”
“Adam,” Yuri said. “You’re looking for Adam. He’s here.”
“He is? Where? Is he okay?”
“Yes. He’s fine. He’s using the bathroom in back. Maria is fixing him a sandwich and some borscht. He’ll be out in a minute. Have a seat, please.” Yuri gestured with his hand toward a chair.
Nadia glanced at the chair and spotted Adam’s knapsack and bag against the wall beyond it. A wave of relief washed over her. Instead of sitting, though, she remained standing. Something Yuri had said sounded wrong, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Then it hit her.
“You said, ‘We knew you’d figure it out.’ Who’s ‘we’?”