The Carnival of Curiosities (Matt Drake Book 27)

by David Leadbeater

  When she’d seen just about everything—in every sense—she found the trailer that belonged to Oana and Alba. The curtains were pulled tight, but through a couple of cracks Shaw determined that both sisters were alone inside, and knocked softly at the door.

  After introductions and explanations were made, Shaw left their home and sank low on her haunches as a group of inebriated carnival folk sauntered past. The ground stank of rotten earth and fresh rain and a hundred other things. The undersides of the randomly spaced, countless trailers were pitch-black, unfathomable places.

  Shaw spent the next few hours using the sisters’ trailer as a base point, then choosing different compass points and trailing through the deeper woods. She walked miles, but never found the captives. In the deepest dark before dawn, she returned to her hotel room and crashed.

  Dejected, angry and annoyed, she knew that, tomorrow night, she’d have to do it all over again.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  “Our Russian entity is not going to be happy,” Dumitrescu said.

  Lupei stared at the phone in his hand as if it had just given him an electric shock. “Our Russian entity? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You know they’d raze us all if I revealed their true identity, Marko. That’s how it has to be. What do you want me to call them, Bob?”

  Lupei gritted his teeth. Dumitrescu had always been a joker, a sarcastic bastard, much to Lupei’s distaste. There was no room and no time in Lupei’s world to waste on ridiculous humor.

  “For you,” Dumitrescu was saying, “I will call them Bob. But only for you, Marko.”

  Lupei clenched a fist around his phone. All he wanted in the moment was to punch Dumitrescu point blank in the nose... and then the eyes... and then the throat...

  “Get the troops on standby,” he said. “I will need them to deal with Hagi soon. And ask for more help direct from Russia.”

  “A please would be nice. You understand the concept, Marko? Get the troops on standby please. Ask Bob for more help, please. Get the idea?”

  Lupei needed Dumitrescu. It was the only reason he still drew breath.

  “You think you are funny? You are the opposite of funny.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. Marko Lupei has no sense of humor. Your world must be a very bleak landscape, my friend.”

  “We are not friends. Now, for our guests. I need bigger trucks, more of them. The people are an unstoppable flood, more stupid by the day, begging to be taken away,” Lupei laughed at their misfortune. “I need more routes and more guards. That is—if you want to expand?”

  “Oh, yes, Bob demands expansion. I will pass your request along to the Russian entity.”

  “Make it quick. The carnival is headed north next. I want the new plans in place for the next stop.”

  “Do you? Well, all right, I will do my very best.”

  Lupei made an annoyed sound. “The northern stop is the border stop. You know that. New guests are collected and taken across the country to the Black Sea. It is imperative I have enough trucks, better trucks and the right amount of guards.”

  “I understand. Probably best not to say too much over the phone.”

  “Why? Are you scared, Dumitrescu? Scared your little politician friends will find out and hang you? Scared the money will dry up and you won’t be able to afford those thousand-dollar hookers? Scared the Russian entity will show up with a machete?”

  “Well, I am now.” Dumitrescu emitted no outward signs of nerves, but then he was a politician. Who knew what they really felt when they couldn’t even answer a damn simple question directly?

  “They certainly have a wide reach,” Lupei admitted.

  “The Russians? In truth...” Dumitrescu sighed. “They scare me flaccid. Have you ever been scared that much?”

  Lupei ignored the man he regarded as a necessary idiot. “If Hagi and his clans wipe us out all that is immaterial. The whole deal will be over. Therefore, we must take care of Hagi.”

  “It sounds to me like a clever, violent man—that’s you—has engineered a confrontation against a rival—Hagi—knowing that he has the Army at his back and therefore will eliminate that rival. Is that about right, Marko?”

  Lupei sneered. He could have eliminated Hagi without the Army’s help. The Army were making it easier, that was all. And the key to getting Hagi to attack now, when Lupei was most strong, was the murder of his daughter. The man was easy prey.

  “Don’t overestimate yourself,” Lupei said. “And don’t presume. But if you like—if you want to organize it—maybe your troops could hit Hagi separately?”

  Dumitrescu was quiet as he thought that one through. “Are you saying you don’t have enough men for the fight?”

  “I’m saying only that negotiations are... ongoing. My daughters are headstrong and stupid, but they will come around.”

  “Ah, yes, well if you get stuck send one to me. I’m sure I could make use of Alba around the house.”

  As Dumitrescu laughed, Lupei seethed. “The Grotsu and Balan clans will join me. Nothing will stop me. Oana and Alba will marry.”

  “Your world...” Dumitrescu mused, “is a terrifying mystery. Arranged marriage and inter-warfare. Carnivals, death matches and bare-knuckle boxing that’s recognized Europe-wide. Trailers, tents, diesel and mud. I admire your resilience, Marko.”

  Lupei didn’t need this man’s praise. The man was a weak, sniveling piece of shit that couldn’t stand up to his masters. “The Roma war is coming,” he said. “Soon. Your Russian entity needs to be aware that it cannot be stopped. And you should mobilize your troops.”

  “Well, thanks for reminding me of my job. So, to recap then, it’s more trucks, more guards, more guests, more money, and more military help. Is there anything else I can do to assist your highness?”

  The words were delivered with scathing sarcasm. Lupei had to take several breaths before answering.

  “You’d do well not to make an enemy of me.”

  “Yes, well, there’s never been any love lost between us. But, professionally, our mutual hatred seems to work. I would never mix with the likes of you, Lupei, but I don’t mind earning off our joint hard work.”

  Lupei didn’t tell Dumitrescu that he was a means to an end and that soon, when Lupei ruled the Romas, everything would change. For now, he could play the underdog. “The Hagis,” he said, “and all the other clans he’s somehow managed to coax across to his side. Are they gathering?”

  “Well, it wasn’t easy getting men on the inside. You, above all, must know how tight-knit your communities are. But mostly because the men I chose to infiltrate are genuine Roma, they are in place and reporting daily. The clans are active. Hagi is busy. But there has been no general movement as yet.”

  Lupei had assumed as much. “He’s still gathering allies,” he said. “Trying to make his position as strong as he can.”

  “Well, I guess he wants to strike one telling blow,” Dumitrescu said. “For his daughter.”

  “It will be telling,” Lupei returned. “For him. My first act of King of the Romas will be to slice his fucking head off.”

  “Well, you’re the fighter. I’m just the brains. I’ll leave all that to you. Of course, the Russian entity will not accept any changes to their schedule. All must continue to flow smoothly with our guests.”

  “This entity terrifies you so much,” Lupei chortled. “I would love to meet them.”

  Dumitrescu swallowed loudly. “Jesus, believe me, you wouldn’t. They eclipse your brutality in every single way. Stay small fry, Marko, and prosper.”

  Lupei didn’t know how to take that. He ended the call to Dumitrescu and thought about the next few days. Everything was on track.

  His victory was assured, even if it cost him his daughters, rivers of blood, and half his clan. Lupei would rule.

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Drake bit into a cold ham sandwich, wondering why the hell everything came coated in mayo. Even if it didn’t state it on the wra
pper, it was still slathered in the stuff. Did everyone else enjoy it? Alicia and Mai had ventured out into a lunchtime drizzle, grabbed an armful of supplies and re-joined everyone in Dahl’s room. By the time they were seated around, eating, drinking and looking generally miserable, there was a sharp rap at the door.

  “Shaw,” Cam said eagerly. “About time.”

  “Girl had a big night,” Hayden said. “Give her a break.”

  Cam pulled open the door, admitting Shaw. Drake studied her face and knew she’d found little.

  “Bad night?”

  Shaw went to the pile of sandwiches to grab two packets and a can of Pepsi. She sat down next to Kinimaka and spent five minutes eating before responding.

  “I learned that your ex-home is a hotbed of depravity, Cam; that Oana and Alba are ready to run; and that throwing knives at people’s faces isn’t nearly as much fun when they’re not trying to kill you.”

  Cam looked disappointed. “You learned nothing?”

  “No trucks full of smuggled people, no guards. None of that. Lupei must have them hidden miles away. But I will return tonight to try again.” She explained a little of what she’d seen and learned the night before.

  Drake nodded, impressed. Shaw was the perfect undercover agent, having proved she could do it before when they tricked the Blood King into meeting them at Devil’s Junction, and now she’d done it again.

  “Stay close to my father,” Cam said. “And my brothers. Once the spirits flow, their lips loosen.”

  “I performed at eight and nine,” Shaw said. “I didn’t see them after seven-thirty.”

  “That’s because he organizes the Carnival, then heads over to the bare-knuckle arena for the night,” Cam said. “Often he’s found passed out on the ground there the next morning. My brothers and the other fighters alongside.”

  “You couldn’t have mentioned that to me yesterday?”

  “The traffickers were never that hard to find before. Lupei must have wised up, or maybe it’s to do with the upcoming war. You’d be best targeting one of my brothers.”

  “Which one?” Shaw asked. “Bear in mind, I’m not like Alicia and Kenzie.”

  Drake saw Alicia perk up from a far corner. “Did I hear my name mentioned?”

  Kenzie gave her a thumbs up. “Yeah. Shawnasee here thinks you’re a slut.”

  Alicia shrugged. “And...”

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” Shaw said in a rush. “You can work a guy better than me. Use your wiles. I’m shit at that kind of thing.”

  “Takes years of practice,” Alicia admitted. “We’ll find you someone to practice on.”

  “I’m in,” Kenzie said.

  “But for tonight,” Alicia went on matter-of-factly. “Just gaze into the guy’s eyes and then grab his balls. It never fails.”

  Shaw choked on a crust. “I won’t be getting that close.”

  “Watch the bouts. Listen to the conversation,” Cam said. “They’re bound to spill something. It won’t be that hard.” He paused to think. “My brothers... they’re fighters. That’s all they are. Thinking, plotting and tradecraft isn’t their thing. My sisters on the other hand... they’re cunning. I wouldn’t want to go up against them intellectually. For years I watched them con both men and women out of cash, jewelry and even property. They thought they had it good...” He shrugged. “Now they see Lupei for the man he really is.”

  Shaw nodded. “I’ll do my best.”

  Drake put a hand on her shoulder. “We know you can do it. I’ve seen you do it. Anything, no matter how small, can help us end this quickly. It could prevent a Roma war.”

  Shaw sighed. “No pressure then.”

  *

  It didn’t seem possible, but that night was even colder than the one before. Shaw changed into the black spangly dress to perform her 8:00 p.m. show and noticed goosebumps where she’d never seen them before. The mass of people gathering inside the tent tended to warm it up, but sheer cold and darkness was hard to combat.

  Shaw completed her task to the sound of a baying audience and then departed, having no intention of returning for her second performance. She pulled on her jeans and jacket, leaving the offensive black dress in a heap, and exited the tent, before tying her hair in its ubiquitous ponytail. A quick query later and she was headed to the eastern side of the camp toward a narrow path leading into the forest. A suitable distance from the carnival, she found the bare-knuckle boxing ring.

  A roughly circular clearing in the woods, surrounded by trees and a double row of people, Shaw saw men and women from all walks of life. From Romas who clearly didn’t take care of themselves to likeminded city people. From suit-wearing businessmen and their mini-skirted companions to feral-faced gamblers; rich men with fists full of banknotes and drunk middle-aged men with half empty liquor bottles grasped in their hands. It was a noisy, aggressive, unruly group.

  Shaw made her way around the back of it, circling once, ignoring two catcalls and shady eye-contact from both men and women. In the ring, two bare-chested males fought, throwing punches and taking hits. One already had a black eye and split lip, the other bruising to his face. The boxing was vicious, a lawless but skillful bout. Shaw saw no mercy given between opponents.

  She spotted Cam’s brothers and Lupei after a few minutes and made her way over. Staying back, she listened to them speak for a while but all they discussed were the strengths and weaknesses of the boxers. Time passed. Shaw took a wad of cash from her pocket and placed a bet.

  Hearing her voice Lupei looked over at her. “What are you doing here? You should be performing.”

  “I like watching the men fight,” she said. “And I need to earn a little cash.”

  “A girl like you can always make cash,” Mihai, Cam’s oldest brother sneered.

  Shaw gave him the finger. Mihai advanced slightly. Shaw made sure he saw the set of knives strapped to her waist.

  “Lay your hands on me,” she said softly. “And see what happens.”

  Lupei watched the exchange with interest. “Can you fight?” he asked. “These people would pay good money to see you in the ring.” He nodded at the current, bloody bout. “And you’d get a percentage of the bet.”

  Shaw shook her head and watched Lupei swig from a bottle. They ignored her for a while as the bout continued. Lupei and his sons became drunker and drunker, throwing money at the most ridiculous bets... which fighter fell to their knees first, which fist they used next, which person in the crowd got spattered by blood. They yelled and they laughed and they whipped up the crowd, making it gamble even more money. It was all about the take.

  Shaw listened without getting too close.

  As an hour went by and the final bout of the evening began, Shaw began to hear several mentions of Lupei’s “guests.” Apparently one of the fighters was a “guest” and had been promised his freedom if he won in two rounds. Lupei and his sons were betting heavily on the man.

  “He’s staying with you?” Shaw asked Nicu, the youngest brother. “Is he family?”

  “His kind are common. Cheaper than grass,” Nicu spat. “Why do you care?”

  “I was thinking of accompanying you to the next stop,” Shaw said, thinking quickly. “As a guest, maybe?”

  Nicu laughed, drank some more and waved a half-empty bottle at her. “You should be careful, little girl. Your fancy daggers won’t save you if we decide to keep you. Or sell you. Or—”

  “Sell me? What the hell are you waffling about?” Shaw was very aware she was dealing with slave traffickers, people smugglers and corrupt killers.

  Nicu leaned in, swaying heavily. “Maybe I’ll take your all-American ass and put it up for auction. Maybe I’ll call a few rich pricks and see which—”

  Shaw recoiled as Nicu slammed to the floor face-first. The bottle flew from his hand. At first, Shaw couldn’t grasp what had happened but then saw Lupei standing over the boy, arm raised. Lupei had smashed his own son to the floor to stop him talking.

  He regar
ded her closely. “Why are you here, All-American Girl?”

  Shaw swallowed and backed off two steps, which did her no good. The crowd was pressing close around her. There was no escape. Lupei and two of his sons were regarding her with suspicion. Shaw slipped one of her knives from its sheathe.

  “He threatened me,” she said. “I wanted to tag along to the next show, and he threatened me.”

  Lupei regarded the unconscious form of Nicu. “Then we’ll wait until he wakes up. In the meantime, I think you should stay close.”

  Lupei wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in, ignoring the knife. Shaw thought fast, deciding she had nowhere to go and the passing minutes might provide a better opportunity. She re-sheathed the knife and stuck with Lupei, letting his arm hang around her, smelling sweat, alcohol and cigarettes, close enough to feel the hard muscles underneath his clothing.

  Ten minutes passed before Nicu stirred.

  Shaw looked for a chance. If she sprinted dead straight across the boxing arena, between the fighters, there was a break in the crowd and a clear opening to the woods. She had her knives and her wits. She would survive.

  Shaw tensed.

  Nicu sat up, rubbing the back of his head. “What happened to—”

  Lupei swatted his son about the head. “I put you down, you little idiot, before your mouth got you killed. Did this bitch question you?”

  Nicu glared, first at Lupei and then at Shaw. A flicker of memory crossed his face and he nodded. Shaw reacted instantly, jamming an elbow into Lupei’s throat, twisting away, and running straight for the two boxers. Around her, the crowd cheered, either thinking this was part of the show or sensing trouble and primed for more entertainment.