“What would he do if he knew you were talking to me?”
“Kill me.”
The little recording machine turned itself off as the tape ended. I’d heard enough. If Thorne would have been willing to kill his partner over what was on that tape, he certainly must have killed Lyle’s son, and there was no doubt he would kill Kraft.
I found Kraft’s beeper number and called it. I figured I would beep him every thirty minutes until he called me back. When he did, I would tell him I had something to trade for Vladi’s computer. Then I called Bo. When he answered, I didn’t even bother with hello.
“I need to see Drazen,” I said. “I need you to hook me up.”
“Why?”
“I need a new deal.”
27
DRAZEN TISHCHENKO WAS SEATED AT A TABLE IN THE back, a dark presence in the brightly lit fast-food emporium that was Wendy’s. On his table were all the classic Wendy’s accoutrements: orange tray, white plastic silverware, yellow paper napkins. He also had an impressive pile of Saltine packets to go with the chili he was scooping from a cardboard cup.
The way he held his cup offered a good look at the tattoos on his right hand. The biggest one, a black skull resting in a bed of leaves, was on the back of his hand. Elaborate symbols adorned the base of every finger. The one on his pinkie was a swastika. Just below each fingernail was a Cyrillic letter.
While I stared at his artwork, he stared up at me with those eyes, still as dead as the tattooed skull’s. I didn’t know how to greet him. I didn’t know whether to sit. Last time, I had counted on Bo for all my etiquette cues, but Bo wasn’t here this time, much to his chagrin. I’d had to work hard to convince him it was a good idea to meet with Drazen alone. As I stood in front of the man himself, I wasn’t sure it had been the best strategy. I felt as if I had a swarm of wasps in my gut.
“Sit.”
I pulled out the chair across from him and slid in.
“What do you want?” He’d turned back to his chili and was scraping the last of it from the bottom of the cup.
“I have news to report.”
He put the cup down and wiped his mouth with one of the yellow napkins. “I like that the food at Wendy’s in Denver is the same as the food at Wendy’s in Boston. I don’t like all American ideas, but that one was a good one.”
“Roger Fratello is dead.”
He balled up the soiled napkin and dropped it into the cup. “That would be convenient for you.”
“Not especially. He died in a hijacking four years ago.”
“What kind of hijacking?”
“Airplane. It was a Salanna Air flight from Paris to Johannesburg. He was traveling under the alias Gilbert Bernays.” I had brought props to bolster my case-printouts of articles I’d been carrying around in my files. I slipped them across the table to him. Without taking his eyes from mine, he put his hand on them and pushed them right back. “Can you show me his bones?”
“There wasn’t that much of him left. He burned to death when the Belgians stormed the plane. Nine hostages died. He was one of them.”
“Again, that is all very handy for you.”
“I’m not making this up. The FBI has come to the same conclusion. They’ve closed the case on Walter Herald’s murder. That should be good news for you.”
He was so quick I had no time to cover up when he reached across the table and slapped me hard across the face. The force snapped my head sideways. It stung enough to make my eyes tear. I covered my cheek. The skin felt hot where he’d made contact.
The only other patrons in the place were a few tables over. Two teenage boys wearing baggy jeans and a girl with oily eyelids and a spaghetti-strap top. They were looking at me with keen disinterest, as if the whole scene came straight out of a video game.
My nose had started to run. I dried it on the back of my hand and tried to pull myself together. “There’s more. I think you’ll want to hear it. It’s about your brother’s computer.”
At first, Drazen went completely still, which made us a couple of statues, because I couldn’t move, either. Everything rode on his next response. He flattened both hands on the table and canted forward, and I was encouraged. “What do you know of Vladi’s computer?”
“I know that Roger took it. I know he was carrying it on the flight. I know if the files are intact, it’s worth a lot of money, and I know it wasn’t destroyed.”
If a rattlesnake had eyelids, it would look the way Drazen did as he slowly blinked at me. “Where is it?”
When I didn’t answer fast enough, he cocked his fist and reached over to grab my shirt. I pulled away and stood up, stumbling as I knocked my chair backward. At least I knew I was holding some cards, which made me feel surprisingly relieved and foolishly emboldened. “Don’t touch me again.”
I didn’t have to turn around to know that one of his men was right behind me, probably the one who was holding my gun. Drazen had called him Anton, and he seemed to be his right-hand goon. I reevaluated.
“I can get the computer back for you, but I’m asking you, please, not to hit me again, so we can get through this conversation.”
Drazen held his right hand in front of him and lined it up with his view of my throat, then he squeezed until his hand shook, as he must have imagined wringing the life from me. “The next time I touch you, it will not be to hit you.”
“Give me your word,” I said, “that if I sit down, you won’t hurt me again.”
I couldn’t tell if his barely perceptible nod was for Anton or for me, but Anton set my chair upright and held it. I sat down again but kept my neck well out of Drazen’s immediate radius.
“The plane was hijacked four years ago.” I pointed to the printouts, still between us. “During the incident, the hijackers collected anything from the passengers they thought might be worth something. This included all the personal computers. Most of this stuff was found recently in Afghanistan by the U.S. military.”
“The American army has my money?”
“No. The CIA was called, but the laptops were all pulled out before it got there. A private citizen has them.”
“Who?”
Here was an interesting moment. I could give him Max Kraft’s name, which meant he would have no reason to keep me alive. Or I could lie.
“The U.S. government is also looking for this man. If they find him first, your money is gone.”
“The U.S. government does not scare me.”
“They might not scare you, but they can take your money. At the moment, no one knows those files are there. If we do this right, no one ever needs to know.”
He gave no indication either way, but I had to be right about this. I had to. There was no way he wanted the feds rooting around in his affairs.
I stiffened a little when he called Anton back to the table, but it was only to bring a pen. Drazen took it. Writing with his left hand, he scribbled something across the back of a Wendy’s napkin. “This is the model and the serial number for Vladi’s laptop computer.” He pushed it toward me. When I took it, he didn’t let go. “You find it, and you bring it to me and to no one else.”
“I got that part.”
I took the napkin and looked over the series of numbers and letters he had printed there. It was interesting that he had the long serial number memorized. “I can’t guarantee the files will be on the unit.”
“The files will be there.”
“How can you be sure?”
“They cannot be moved.” He pointed the pen at me. “Straight to me. No one else. Do you understand?”
“I understand. But if I do, I want-” My voice failed me. Even though I knew what I wanted to say, I couldn’t get it out. He was such a remorseless creature. “I want something in return.”
His gash of a mouth tightened. “You believe you are in a position to set terms with me?”