Darby Stansfield Thriller Series (Books 1-3 & Bonus Novella)

by Ty Hutchinson

  That night he made it a point to pass through that lane, hoping something would jump out at him and paint a picture of what happened here. Why would someone not only take the life of what seemed like a helpless drunk, but also remove his face? Was his life not enough? Surely he was dead by the time the murderer decided to defile his body. Alexi could not come up with a reason. Should there be one? There usually is a motive. Or did the killer kill just to kill? If so, then this was one unlucky soul.

  Alexi left the alley, picking up the pace. He was always running late but he knew he would be forgiven. Ten minutes of speed walking led Alexi to a small building tucked away on a side street. He climbed the stairs to the second floor and knocked on one of the only two doors. The door opened and a sleepy Olga Yakunin stood before him.

  “You’re late, darling.”

  “Forgive me. I stopped by the church to see your father.”

  Nineteen

  Olga opened the door wider so Alexi could slip inside. “What did he say?”

  “I did not tell him about us. The time wasn’t right,” Alexi said as he removed his coat and hat. “I told him about the murder that took place a few nights ago. I thought he could mention it to his congregation. Maybe someone saw something. After talking about that, it didn’t seem right to bring us up.”

  “We have to tell him. We can’t keep sneaking about behind his back. He must know. The longer we wait, the worse it will be. We’ve already waited three months.” Olga headed into the kitchen to boil water for tea. She was fully awake now.

  “I agree. I just know he will not approve. Even though we are friends, he will not think I am right for you.”

  “It doesn’t matter what he thinks. I am my own person who makes my own decisions, and that includes who I date.”

  Alexi rubbed his hands together—his bones still frozen from the walk. It’s getting colder at night.

  Olga took a seat next to Alexi and tucked herself under his arm. “You’re the only man I know who enjoys a dead, empty city at night as opposed to a bustling, energetic one during the day.”

  “Yes, but you love this weird man, too.”

  “That I do,” Olga said as she leaned in for a kiss and then a snuggle. The two sat entwined until the kettle sounded the alarm. Olga got up and went into the kitchen. She returned with two cups of chai.

  “You know we must tell him soon.”

  “Tell me, why? We’ve been dating for three months. He has not found out. What’s the difference?”

  Olga choked a little on her drink. “What’s the difference? I want to be able to go out in public with you. I want people to know we are a couple. I would like to invite you and my father to the same dinner parties. Is that too much to ask?”

  “What if your father cannot get over that I am almost the same age as he or that I was once a married man who worked most of the time? He wants you to marry an intellectual. That I am not.”

  “But you are, just in a different way. Books are not the only way to define who we are. You are well spoken. You are incredibly smart—”

  “I did not finish my studies at the university.”

  “Yes, but you can solve problems like no one I know. That is why you are good at your detective work. You have other strengths. You have street smarts. Plus, you’re big and strong and have lots of muscles, which I quite like,” Olga said with a giggle.

  “I am too old for you,” Alexi said. “He said so himself, tonight.”

  Olga kissed him on the lips. “But I keep you young.” She then stood up and walked across the room. Her silken robe slipped off her shoulders and fell to the floor behind her, leaving her nakedness in view.

  “Don’t make me start without you,” she said as she disappeared into the bedroom.

  • • •

  From the shadows, the Prividenie watched the lights in the apartment on the second floor turn off. Who was this late night visitor of the church? Was he a member of the congregation or an invited guest?

  Earlier, the Prividenie wasted no time exiting the church when Father Fedor left the sanctuary to see who was knocking on the church doors. He didn’t travel far though, just enough to watch and wait. Less than an hour later, the visitor left the church.

  The Prividenie stayed a safe distance behind the visitor as he followed. So strange. It was as if the visitor were taking a stroll through the city. There was no purpose to the direction he chose—that is, until he walked through a tiny lane that was familiar to the Prividenie. There was more caution when he began methodically walking back and forth in the lane. The Prividenie did not know who this gentleman was, but he knew what he was from his actions. It was all to clear that he was a detective. Not only that, but he was a detective who visited both father and daughter late at night.

  Twenty

  Two weeks had passed since Alexi’s failed attempt to tell Father Fedor that he was romantically involved with his daughter. While it was still on her mind, Olga was too consumed with her work at the paper to push Alexi. She sat quietly at her desk editing a draft of the newspaper’s next printing. Her office was on the first floor, in the rear of an old school that had been converted into office space for various companies and organizations.

  Since taking over the newspaper, she had wasted no time implementing her changes. The paper was printing bolder stories that named names, something the original editors weren’t quite willing to do. Olga, though, saw no purpose in printing a story that alluded to the government’s corruption when they had the real facts and could just print them. As much as everyone who worked at the paper believed in what they were doing, some of the staff worried that maybe she was doing too much too fast. She was.

  Suddenly the door to Olga’s office flew open. Standing there, breathless, was Sasha Bezrodny, her assistant. His wire-framed glasses sat crooked on his nose. “They’re here,” he said.

  Olga froze, wondering if this was indeed the moment they all had feared.

  Sasha made his way over to her desk. “Did you hear me? They’re here. We must get you out.” He pulled her from her chair and over to the window.

  “They can’t legally lock me up. I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  Sasha worked to get a window open. “But they can arrest you and take their time figuring out the charges, essentially locking you up.” He pushed the window open and then moved a stool right under it. “Hurry!”

  Olga could hear loud shouting and the sounds of doors opening and slamming shut. There was even screaming from the women on staff. She knew the Russian police were on their way to her office. Sasha was right. She had to flee.

  The two exited the building into an alleyway.

  “This way,” Sasha said, tugging on her arm.

  Just as they reached the opening to the street, a car screeched to a stop in front of them, blocking their way. Olga gasped and stopped short. The passenger window rolled down revealing the driver. It was Sasha’s brother, Andrei.

  Sasha pulled the front seat forward and ushered Olga into the back seat before he jumped in and slammed the door shut. They sped away from the building. Sasha took a moment to catch his breath before speaking again. “That was close. Thanks for meeting us, brother.”

  “No problem,” Andrei said. “Where to, though?”

  Sasha turned around to face Olga. Her body may have shown no signs of panic but that couldn’t be said for her eyes. “It’s okay, Olga. We’re following the plan. You will be safe.”

  They were not driving to Olga’s apartment; the police knew where she lived. It was not safe and probably compromised. Only Olga new the address to the safe house and only in this predicament was she to tell anyone.

  “Where are we going, Olga?” Sasha asked.

  Twenty-One

  The protocol after leaving the building was now in effect. Olga gave directions to a location, but it was not to the location of the safe house. It was important that the driver not know the address. His duty was to drop Olga and Sasha off within five blocks of the
secret address, as he did. Both of them exited the car and waved goodbye to Andrei, not knowing where he was going. For two weeks, the three of them would remain hidden. Only after that time passed were they allowed to communicate with each other.

  Sasha and Olga quickly left the main road and followed a crisscross of back streets and alleys. They did not run, but walked at a slightly faster pace than the norm. They played a young couple in love. Olga had gripped Sasha’s arm and snuggled into his side.

  “Will your brother be okay?” she asked.

  “Yes. He knows nothing about what we do or the plan. His only role was to meet us and drop us off. He now follows his own plan, which I know nothing about.”

  Even Olga was not privy to Andrei’s instructions. This was for the safety of all involved. Should one of them be picked up and questioned, they would not be able to tell the whereabouts of the others, even if they were beaten.

  “How did your brother know the police had come?”

  “I received a tip from our contact in the government that they might be coming today. As soon as I heard that, I called my brother immediately. The timing was perfect.”

  “I cannot believe this is actually happening,” Olga said quietly.

  “What did you expect? We are finally printing the truth.”

  “Yes, we are but… Still, I didn’t think we would ever have to resort to the plan.” Even though Olga put on a good front, inside she worried that perhaps she had been too cocky. Had she gotten herself in a situation that was beyond her? Was her father right?

  Ten minutes later, they stood near a pharmacy. Olga turned to Sasha. “This is where we must part.”

  Protocol called for them to split up when they were within two blocks of the safe house. Sasha and Olga said their goodbyes quickly and turned away from each other, walking in different directions.

  Olga walked for another five minutes before she saw the safe house but continued beyond it and then doubled back just for added security.

  Careful to make sure that nobody was watching, she slipped into the entrance of a brown building and tiptoed up the wooden stairs to the fourth floor. There were two doors, one unmarked. She waited a minute, allowing her heart to calm and her breathing to slow. She knocked twice, waited, and then knocked once more. A few seconds passed and the door opened revealing Alexi Litvak.

  What better way to hide from the police than with the police?

  Twenty-Two

  Two weeks had passed and I still had not heard from my daughter. I had heard about the raid of her office soon after it happened and knew that if they did not have her, the newspaper’s plan was in effect. Of course, I knew enough of the plan to understand that she would not make contact with anyone, including me. Still, knowing this did nothing to curb my fears. I kept picturing her locked up in a dank cell with little food and water. I tried to shake the situation from my mind, to think only positive thoughts, but I couldn’t. Not a day went by that I did not anguish over my daughter’s disappearance.

  It did not help matters that the Prividenie had pressured me for more late-night visits. Hearing his confessions was beginning to take its toll. Here I was, listening to the problems of a killer, nodding and prodding him to continue—helping him feel better about himself, when all along, I was the one truly suffering.

  What about me? Don’t you know what I am going through? Can’t you tell? All you do is go on and on about how you killed this person and that person. ‘Woe is me,’ you cry. Who cares? Not I. You are already a dead man. But me… I am not. I have a beautiful daughter who still must marry and bear me a grandchild. I have something to look forward to.

  This Prividenie was such an ungrateful bastard. Could it kill you to ask about me?

  He continued to blabber about the next kill. I didn’t know what number it was. I had lost count. Was it sixty-two or seventy-six? I had become numb. None of it shocked me anymore, not even when he put a man’s hand into a meat grinder and then force-fed him his own handburger. He was a sick man who got off on torturing his victims.

  I watched the Prividenie from my corner. He was highly animated as he talked about one of his prouder moments. Look at him carry on. It’s as if I am not even here. I could walk over to him with an axe and he wouldn’t notice; he is that caught up in his clever kills.

  That’s when I realized: I really didn’t care. I didn’t care if we got to his ninety-ninth confession. I didn’t care if he were saved. I was in need of saving. I needed to vent and a shoulder to lean on. And just like that, the Prividenie stopped his talking. I don’t know how long he was silent when I abruptly realized he was watching me have a conversation with myself.

  “Forgive me, Father. I’ve been so selfish, haven’t I?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I sense you are troubled.”

  “Nonsense,” I said, brushing him off. “Whatever gave you such a ridiculous idea?”

  “You, Father.”

  It was no use denying what I so badly wanted to happen. But it could not happen this way. I cannot give in. I cannot show weakness. “This is your time. You are the one in need of salvation. My worries are of no concern now.”

  “Tell me, what’s on your mind? I insist.”

  Yes, finally. A demand. How could I turn down a demand? No, wait… a threat. “Well, if you really must know. My daughter has gone missing.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “It’s not really that bad. You see she had to disappear for a while and part of the plan is that she’s not allowed to contact me during that time. That’s all.”

  “Disappear? I don’t follow.”

  “That’s because there’s a tremendous amount of backstory that I couldn’t possibly get into right now.”

  And yet I did. With the right amount of prodding from the Prividenie, I told him my concerns with my daughter, Olga: How she was the editor of a newspaper that spoke out against the government and that she was viewed as an intellect that championed democracy. The Prividenie said nothing while I spilled forth every detail about the paper and my daughter. Nothing was sacred. He had to understand what I was going through.

  I thanked the Prividenie before leaving. I knew the next time we met I would continue to speak.

  The roles had reversed.

  Twenty-Three

  I returned the following night with great anticipation. There was so much I wanted to confess to the Prividenie, so much I needed to get off my chest. No one thinks a priest has anything to complain about. People go on thinking that our lives are without grief or trouble, but they’re wrong.

  I didn’t waste any time with small talk. I got right into talking about Olga. I told the Prividenie I was not strict with her, that maybe I encouraged her too much as a kid to dream big. She had taken my advice and now had disappeared. One cannot blame me; I am just a father who loves his daughter. I pushed her to strive. I gave her confidence. This is what parents do for their children.

  “It is clear that you are to blame,” said the Prividenie.

  “What? How dare you blame me?” Has he not been listening to a word I’ve been saying?

  “If not you, then who?”

  I sat silently for a moment, annoyed by what the Prividenie said. I’m not to blame. I warned her, multiple times.

  “You know I’m right.”

  “I most certainly do not. Don’t put words into my mouth,” I countered.

  “I’m not. You may have warned her, but you didn’t try very hard. If you had, you wouldn’t be here telling me about it.”

  “You bastard! How dare you… Surely I am not to blame for what has happened to her.”

  “She doesn’t respect you.”

  I nearly jumped out of my seat. “How could you say that?”

  “She never did.”

  “Of course she does.”

  “She doesn’t listen to a word you say.”

  “You don’t know that! You know nothing!” I was fuming at the audacity of the Prividenie to presum
e that I was responsible for what happened. What does he know? Nothing!

  “Did she quit the newspaper when you told her to?”

  “No.”

  “Did she stop protesting when you said not to?”

  “No, but—”

  “Did she respond to any of your concerns regarding what she was doing?”

  “This isn’t fair.”

  “She hasn’t listened to a single word you have said during her entire life, has she?”

  I pondered what the Prividenie was saying. Surely, she had listened and learned from me during her life.

  “She doesn’t respect you.”

  I erupted out of my chair and within seconds had crossed the room with my finger out in front, leading the way. “Who do you think you are to come here and insult me like that?” I shouted.

  The Prividenie started to laugh. A low rumble that grew louder with each breath. “Even in your anger, I do not take you seriously, Father. No one does. No one ever has.”

  “I know what you’re trying to do here. It won’t work.”

  “It already has.”

  Twenty-Four

  It took nearly three weeks but I finally heard from Olga. We spoke briefly on the phone before she gave me an address and hung up. I grabbed my coat and wasted no time heading to where she was hiding.

  On the walk there, I had plenty of time to think about what the Prividenie and I had discussed during the last week. I’d had no idea how disobedient and disrespectful my daughter had become. Had she always been this way? It didn’t matter; these discussions proved to be fruitful in the end. Things will be different from now on, I believed.

  When I got to the address, I did as she instructed. I made a loop around the building and then waited until no people were in sight before entering. It wasn’t that difficult since it was Sunday morning and Leningrad was slow to rise. I entered the single door and climbed the creaky stairs to the fourth floor.