by JJ Lamb
Those were the very words Annie would say when she tried to talk him into quitting medicine. He could hear her now: “Why do you keep doing something you hate?”
“It’s all I know.”
“Mort, you have enough money. Get out while you can.”
“I’ll go. But I need to wait until the end of the year.”
It was the same promise he made over and over, year after year. Then one day she stopped asking ... and fell in love with another man.
Even now, after eighteen months, he still suffered, felt the pain of life without Annie.
She didn’t have to die—you could have left her alone. Only you couldn’t live with the idea of her being with another man, another man with his arms around her.
Tallent covered his eyes and tried to block out the mental image of Annie. Beautiful Annie.
For the hundredth time, he wished he’d never gone to the Time Out Health Club. Wished he’d never met Vlad. He was the one who planted the idea of killing Annie. Vlad pushed him over the edge.
Vlad the killer.
Killed Annie.
Killed Maria Benz and her mother.
Terrorized Lolly.
And now he’s going to kill Gina Mazzio.
The doorbell rang. Tallent opened the front door and Vlad pushed past him.
“No lights?” Vlad flipped on a light switch and sprawled across the sofa.
“What’s the matter with your face?” Tallent eased down into a chair across from Vlad. “And you look like a goddam bum dressed in those clothes. Don’t you have any pride in yourself?”
“Oh, shut up! Your doorman liked the money I gave him to get my ass up here.” He pointed to the TV screen. “Did I ask you why you’re in the dark with a soundless television like some kind of creep?”
Tallent glared at him, wanted him out of his space.
“Besides,” Vlad said, “I’m not the one asking for a favor. You sent me a note. And you’re judging me?”
“Favor?” That struck Tallent as being funny for some unknown reason. He laughed and pointed to Vlad. “You call fifty grand a favor?”
“If you’re going to be a smart ass, I’ll leave, and let you settle this business yourself.”
“Man, you really must run through the bucks. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here with your hand out, begging. You must hae a very expensive habit of some kind.” Tallent leaned back in his chair. “So, don’t try to play games with me, Mr. Big Shot.”
Vlad sat silently while they stared at each other. He blinked first.
“Okay, so who, exactly do you want me to do, that other nurse?”
“Yes. Gina Mazzio.”
“I’ll have it taken care of within the next few days. But, I need my money now.”
“You think I keep fifty-thousand dollars sitting around in my apartment all he time, just in case? Forget it. That’s what banks are for. All I have on hand is, maybe a couple thousand.”
Vlad sprung up from the sofa and went down the bedroom wing hallway.
Tallent started after him.
Who the hell does he think he is walking in here and making himself at home?
But the moment passed. and Tallent sat back down in the living room.
What the fuck difference does it make?
* * *
Vlad walked on the plush, thick carpeting. He counted three bedrooms. One was fixed up as a den or study, the next one appeared to be a guest room, and the last one was obviously the master bedroom. He thought for a moment about taking it for himself, then decided he’d use the guest room for however long he was here.
But first he went into the study, where bookshelves lined two walls, a window took up another, and hanging on the fourth wall was an aqua surf board. He didn’t know anything about surfing, couldn’t understand why anyone would want to spend all that time in the water being worried about sharks. He could see, though, that this board wasn’t for decoration—it had seen a lot of use.
On the same wall were many, many pictures of Tallent and the woman he’d killed for the doc some time back. The doctor looked much happier in all of the photos, many of which showed huge waves in the background.
So, this was the doctor’s true love ... surfing.
He turned to the desk and methodically went from drawer to drawer. In the one with a large checkbook, there was also two thousand dollars in a neat, banded stack of new bills. He shoved it into his pocket next to the three thousand he’d taken from Rosia.
No matter how many times he turned everything upside down in the drawers, it was all the cash he could find. He wondered if there might also be a safe.
An anger-spiked iciness filled his chest.
He suddenly picked up a pointed letter opener, walked up to the surf board, and scratched his initials into its waxed perfection. When he finished, he smiled and threw the opener back onto the desk.
He went back to the master bedroom and looked through the drawers, lifting underwear and socks. In the closet, he chose a knitted sport’s shirt and charcoal wool slacks.
He stripped out of the cheap, thrift store clothes and threw them across the quilted bedspread. He looked at himself in the mirror and although the shirt was much too roomy, the pants were the right length. He found a belt that he could tighten to fit his smaller waist size.
* * *
Tallent watched Vlad come strolling back into the living room, saw instantly that he was wearing his clothes.
“I see you helped yourself,” Tallent said. “I have to admit you almost look human now.”
“What would you know about that?” Vlad said and plopped down in a chair. He pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket, held it up for Tallent to see. “You were right, man. You had only two thousand in the house ... unless there’s a safe hidden someplace.”
“I hope you enjoyed yourself rummaging through my things—making yourself at home.”
“It was quite informative.” Vlad stuffed the money back into his pocket. “I’m gonna need to stay here for a day or two, Doc.” He propped one foot up onto the coffee table.
Tallent started to object. “No—“
Vlad cut him off. “Once I’ve taken care of that nurse for you, I’ll disappear—you’ll never hear from me again.”
Chapter 46
“I’ve got you, you bastard!” He couldn’t stop shrieking with joy as he drove along a safe distance behind Vlad. Again and again, he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe away gushing tears of happiness.
Vlad Folo stopped at a high rise on the edge of Aquatic Park. Alex watched while Folo parked the Chrysler and entered the posh condominium building.
He circled around the block a few times before finding a parking spot where he could see the front of the building. He got out and walked over to the entryway, looked inside, spun on his heel, and went back to his car.
Not only was there a doorman, there was also a registration desk. Even if he could get past those two barriers, he had no idea where Folo had gone.
Alex sat in his car and swore an oath that he would not leave this spot until that miserable son-of-a-bitch came back.
For the first time in twenty years, Alex was happy.
He’d lived a monk’s life in run-down hotels, existing on a pittance doled out by Leonid Solovief, his Russian boss. Now, the exile would finally come to an end. He would kill Vlad Folo, take a finger to prove he’d done in Dimitri Antonev/Karl Pushkin/Vlad Folo, and return to Russia.
He could hardly wait to tell his wife, but first he would call Leonid and inform him of the good news.
Alex took his precious sat-phone from the glove compartment and tried to compose himself. After several deep breaths, he tapped in the numbers that would connect him with Minsk.
“Da?”
“Misha? Is that you?”
“Da, who is this?”
“Alex ... Alexander Yurev.”
Misha laughed so long he had difficulty catching his breath. Finally, he said, “Alex, we call you The Lost Russian. The last time Leoni
d spoke to you, you were still finishing our job of snuffing out the Antonevs.”
Alex felt his blood turn to ice. “Where’s Leonid?”
“Leonid is dead, my friend.”
“What? When did this happen?”
“In the past summer.” Again the laugh. “All over a piece of ass—imagine, at his age.” Misha roared with laughter again. “Seventy-one years old and still acting like a young stud.”
“Misha—“
“—the husband came home while Leonid was fucking the wife.” Again, a roar of laughter. “Bang! Ha, ha! They were both dead. And of course, now so is the husband.”
“I see,” Alex said.
“It was all so stupid.” The phone suddenly went silent. “Why are you calling today, Alex?”
“I have found the Antonev boy. He will be dead within hours.”
“Well, good. It only took you twenty years.” Now the line was silent.
Alex could feel a jolt of heat in his belly “Who is the head man now?”
“Me.” Misha’s voice became a snarl. “I am the one you will talk to from now on.”
“I plan on returning within two weeks. I miss my family.”
“What family?”
Alex’s heart was thrumming.
“You have no family, Alexander Yurov.”
“But, my wife, Sophie, my sons ... my family.”
Silence hung between them.
“Sophie is my wife now, Alex. She’s still a beautiful woman. And your sons are now my sons. Do you understand? They are all mine!”
It couldn’t be true.
“You’re a lying piece of shit, Misha. You’ve always been a lying piece of shit!” Pain spiked through his chest. “Every week Sonya and me, we talk by Skype. She’s said nothing to me.”
“Why bother? We all knew you were never coming home again.”
“But—”
“—now, my friend, you will always be known as ‘The Lost Russian.’” The line went silent. “And you’ll be The Dead Lost Russian if you ever set foot in Minsk again.”
Alex felt faint as Misha’s voice became a menacing growl.
“Do you understand me, Alexander Yurev? If you return to Minsk, you will The Dead Russian.”
“I’ve worked hard for the organization. I’ve given up my family, my home. I followed the code—our code.”
The line was dead.
Chapter 47
Gina and Harry were waiting for Christina Simon. The woman insisted on also meeting Gina before deciding whether to hack into Tallent’s computer. Gina had never met a computer hacker and her curiosity was killing her. What kind of person did that sort of thing? What was she like?
Glasses of merlot in hand, and their feet up on the coffee table in the living room, they were talking about their dual wedding with Helen and Vinnie.
“Between the four of us, the number of people we’re inviting is getting bigger and bigger.” Harry nuzzled her neck. “At least you won’t have to deal too much with my parents—they’ll be lost in the crowd.”
“Don’t you think it’s time we visited them? I really should meet them before we get married.” Gina looked into his eyes. “How bad can they be when you’re their son?”
“They’re not bad. They’re irritating and thoughtless. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I don’t know—”
The phone rang.
“I hope it’s not our hacker backing out.” Gina struggle off the sofa and went across the room.
“Hello.”
There was long pause.
“Hi, Gina.”
“Lolly! Gina hit the speaker button so Harry could hear, too. “I’ve been leaving messages—you never answer. Are you all right?”
“I’m getting there,” Lolly said. “It’s been pretty difficult.”
“Tell me what happened. Please?”
“I’m calling because I couldn’t stop worrying about you.” There was a long pause before she spoke again. “I meant what I said before—stay away from Tallent. You hear me! Stay away from him!”
“I understand what you’re saying, but I want to know what happened with you.”
“Mort Tallent caught us on tape sneaking into his office.”
“I know that,” Gina said.
“What you don’t know is that there’s a maniac working for Tallent. The crazy man who killed Maria and her mother.”
“He’s the one who hurt you?”
“Gina, he didn’t just hurt me. He interrogated me, he raped me, sliced me open, and tried to find out what we saw on Tallent’s computer the night we snuck into his office.”
“We didn’t see anything. Did you tell him that?”
“Yes, yes, but he didn’t believe me. He wanted your name and when I wouldn’t give it to him, he cut me some more.”
“Oh, Lolly. Have you been to a doctor?”
“As soon as I got here I went to a plastic surgeon.” Gina heard a catch in her voice. “He said he’ll do the best he can, but I’m going to be badly scarred, no matter what he does.”
“I’m so sorry,” Gina said.
“I’m the one who brought you into this mess, Gina. It’s not your fault.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Stay safe!” Lolly paused. “Watch out for Tallent’s hired murderer.”
“I think he may have found me already. Someone has been following me. What does he look like?”
“Tall, very muscular—looks like he’s on steroids,” Lolly said. “And worst of all, he’s a merciless cold killer. Just looking at him tells you that. This man would cut you into pieces and eat a chocolate bar at the same time.”
“My God!”
“Stay clear of Tallent. You hear me, Gina? Stay clear of Mort Tallent no matter what else you do.”
Lolly hung up without another word.
During the conversation, Harry had moved in close to Gina and heard most of the conversation on the speaker. “You know, doll, maybe we ought to back off on this whole hacking business. Let’s stay out of Tallent’s affairs. This is getting more bizarre by the minute.”
“Tallent knows I’m involved.” Gina wrapped her arms around his waist and looked into his eyes. “I think it may be too late to start doing the backstroke.”
The door bell rang, Gina tapped the intercom button.
“Hi, who’s there?”
“It’s Christina.”
“I’ll buzz you in. We’re upstairs.”
“I’ll go meet her and bring her up,” Harry said.
Harry had told Gina that Christina was a woman who could take of herself. One glance when Harry ushered her in confirmed that.
Christina didn’t waste any time. Her hand was extended to Gina right away as she stepped inside.
“Nice to meet you,” Gina said, shaking her hand. “Let me take your wet jacket.” She helped her out of a very damp pea coat.
“Would you like some coffee?” Harry said. “We just made a fresh pot.”
“That would be great. Don’t bother with any extra fixings. I like it black.” She walked into the living room. “Man, I like that purple sofa.”
“It was a steal.” Harry held out a hand offering her a seat. “We got it at a garage sale. I won’t tell you what we paid—you’ll think we’re thieves.”
“Maybe you are a bunch of crooks since you’re asking me to hack into a rich doctor’s computer.” Christina plopped down.
Gina came back with a cup of black coffee and handed it to Christina. She sat down in a chair opposite her. “The only thing we’re stealing is information.”
“You two really are babes in the woods,” Christina said. “Information can be as valuable as cash in your pocket.”
Her voice had hardened and Gina could see Harry was dead-on when he evaluated her the first time they met at Paul’s. This woman wouldn’t take crap from anyone. She would survive anywhere—even in the Bronx.
“So you think this doctor is a murderer?”
She let out a cynical laugh. “Isn’t that what they do legally, like all the time?”
“We think he hired someone to kill the woman who was taking care of his books,” Harry said. “She got too close to the whole mess. Whatever she saw meant she had to be eliminated.”
“You do this from your home?” Gina asked. “I mean, hacking. I know zilch about it.”
“And let’s keep it that way.” Christina leaned back into the sofa and took several sips from her cooling coffee. “But, my group is not a gang of terrorists. We’re the good guys. In fact, we’ve been uncovering some ISIS messages and tipping off Homeland Security. That’s all I’m saying about that.”
Gina smiled at Harry. “I think we found a winner.”
Chapter 48
Christina Simon took a few days to think about the request to hack into Dr. Morton Tallent’s computer files. What finally swayed her was that not only had she taken a liking to Gina and Harry, she trusted Paul Lucke. He was a stand up guy.
What struck Christina most about the couple was their unselfish motives—they weren’t trying to rip off anyone, they were only trying to make things right. There weren’t enough people in the world like that.
She hopped on a bus to her hacker buddy, Blitz. Whenever she went on what she called a 007 caper, she traveled by public transportation to keep as low a profile as possible. She also encrypted her emails and text messages.
Blitz lived near the San Francisco Zoo—claimed the only thing that kept him sane were his trips to see the animals. He really hated the idea of zoos—caging living beings—but he accepted that without them, most people would never understand how wonderful animals really are. His favorites were lions, but elephants were a close second.
Early on Christina had sexual fantasies about the tall, dark-haired Blitz. He was handsome in an off beat kind of way, but she preferred men who were a little more testosterone-fired. The guy had no interest in women, or men, or much of anything else—not even money. After all, he was a trust fund baby who would never have to wonder where his next meal was coming from.
For Blitz, if it wasn’t about computers, he didn’t care.
Off the Muni, she walked along a couple of blocks that were lined mostly with two-story, pastel-colored homes common to the Sunset District. His house definitely fit the pattern—the residence of someone with a wife, 2.5 children, a dog, a cat, one car, and a regular 9-5 gig, probably even shopped at the co-op.
