Sins of the Master

by Catherine Taylor

  “And yet you’re here trying to find her.” Mairead put her hand on Lena’s. “That’s not being a terrible mother.”

  “She emailed me for the first few months and then there was nothing. The last email I got from her, she had come across some Russians living here. She sent me a picture of herself with some man.”

  “Have you got it with you?”

  “Yes.” Lena reached into her bag and brought out a folded piece of paper.

  The grainy imaged was of a thin faced man with his arm around Greta. His dark hair was cropped close to his head and he was wearing a suit, minus a tie and his shirt undone at the collar.

  “The picture just said, me and Leo.” Lena told her. “Please, you would tell me if anything has happened…”

  “I don’t know, Lena,” Mairead replied sadly. “I wish I could tell you more. Perhaps, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Lena smiled and gripped her hand. “You tell me that you see Greta alive, only weeks ago. That is more than I have had in a very long time. I thank you for this. Please, you tell me your name.”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m having a few problems of my own.”

  Lena looked down at the wedding and engagement rings on Mairead’s hand. “You’re married.”

  Mairead nodded silently and Lena studied her closer. “Are you unhappy?”

  “Not with him. I’m married to the most wonderful man in the world and I love him more than anything.”

  “That’s good,” Lena nodded. “Marriage is not always like that. Don’t ever forget what you have. Cherish every moment.”

  “I have.” Mairead frowned and looked at Lena. “Ukraine is near Russia. Do you know any Russian?”

  “I speak Russian fluently. It is part of my heritage.”

  Mairead took out her phone and tapped the apps to bring up a picture. “Could you read that for me?”

  Lena gazed at the picture and then turned sharply to Mairead. “Why do you have this?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Do you know this woman? Is she a friend of yours?”

  “I know her, but she is not a friend. Not anymore.”

  “Then you must not go near her. You must stay away from her.”

  “Why?”

  Lena gazed angrily at the photo and pointed to the Russian lettering. “Her name, Ivanchenko, I’ve heard of this family. They were very bad people.”

  “That’s her name?” Mairead shook her head angrily. “What is her first name?”

  “Asya.”

  “And you knew this family?”

  “No,” Lena replied with a sigh. “A friend of mine once told me about them, of their atrocities. This girl would have been an infant, but this is Bratva. Their evil is inherited. How do you know this girl?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Is she also involved with Greta? Has this girl done something to Greta?”

  “No,” Mairead told her firmly. “This is just to do with me. I promise.”

  “Then I worry very much for you. You must stay away from this girl. You must tell your husband what I say and he must look after you.”

  Mairead smiled sadly. “I will.”

  Lena patted her hand. “It is nothing to be ashamed of, to be cared for by a man, to even let him be the boss sometimes. We women are strong enough to let men think what they want, as long as they are loving us.”

  For the first time in a very long while, Mairead laughed, only to have to bite on her lip as tears stung her eyes. It was becoming too hard.

  “I have to go, Mrs. Moroz,” Mairead said. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  “You are to call me Lena, and I too am happy to have met you. Perhaps you will see my Greta again and you will tell her I love her and I am very sorry.”

  “I really hope I can help you, so you will be able to tell her yourself.”

  Lena gripped her hand. “Tell me your name. I know what it is to be frightened and not know who to trust. I know what it is to be betrayed. I would never do this to you.”

  Mairead stared at her. “I’m not frightened. I don’t have anything left to fear, not anymore. I’ll call you if I learn anything.” She grabbed her bike and went to walk off, pulling the hood back over her head. She stopped and turned back. “My name is Mairead.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Elizabeth Cooper half walked, half ran down the long corridor before turning off into the ward. She approached the station and didn’t wait for the nurse to look up at her, as she held up her badge.

  “Doctor Perry. Where would he be? I’m Senior Detective Elizabeth Cooper. He called me.”

  The nurse smiled woodenly. “I’ll call him. Please take a seat.”

  Some ten minutes later a young man in a suit entered the ward and came straight to Cooper.

  “Someone was meant to call you a few days ago,” he began. “We started bringing Brendan out of the coma a week ago. His scans were showing no sign of brain injury and his vitals were excellent. Now he’s doing a little too well and putting on a fuss, so I thought we should get you in here.”

  “I can see him?”

  “Of course. He’s been full of questions this morning, but I’ll leave the answers up to you. Come and I’ll take you to him.”

  Brendan was sitting in an armchair in his room as a nurse was setting out a cup and a jug of cordial. He looked up from a newspaper in his lap, as Cooper entered. His unshaven face was looking remarkably better than the first time she had seen him. His jaw looked larger than it should have been and his upper lip was lopsided. There was scarring on his cheekbone and eyebrow, but nothing that was going to be too damaging to his looks.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  Cooper held up her wallet with identification. “I’m Senior Detective Cooper.”

  “Listen.” Brendan pointed a finger at her. “Like I told that other prick, I’m not answering any fucking questions until I get a few answers myself. What the fuck happened to Adele Easton and her parents? And don’t give me the bullshit these papers are giving me.”

  Cooper waited until the nurse had left. “That’s as much information as we have, Mr. North, except for what Adele told us, after your assault.”

  “Alright,” he nodded warily. “What did she tell you?”

  “That information is confidential. How about you tell me what you know?”

  Brendan snarled, showing a missing tooth and wire inside his mouth. “She told you, didn’t she, about Dylan Tyler? He’s in the paper, too. You think he killed that poor old bastard, Kenneth Lister.” He shook his head. “You’re way off base.”

  “Why is that?”

  “I spoke to Ken. Nice old guy. Thought the world of Tyler. I think he copped it because he would have sold his own mother before he sold out Tyler.”

  Cooper frowned. “Copped it from who?”

  “Probably the same cunts that got me.”

  “So you don’t believe Tyler attacked you?”

  Brendan smirked. “I think if Tyler wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be here talking to you right now.

  “Someone was arrested for your assault,” Cooper said. “James Vaughn. His watch and blood were found at your apartment and your blood was on his clothes, but it’s since been proven that he was incapable of carrying out the assault, due to large amounts of Ketamine in his system.”

  “Vaughn? Are you fucking kidding me? James Vaughn didn’t punch my fucking lights out.”

  “I thought you couldn’t remember the assault.”

  “I don’t, but what the fuck has Vaughn got to do with anything? He’s too busy banging his missus, not that I blame him.”

  “You had photos of her on your phone and your laptop.”

  Brendan grinned and shrugged awkwardly. “I saw her at their club. I wanted a few mementos.”

  “You went to their house.”

  “Because Adele sent me on some fucking cocked up mission. She knew they had security cameras.”

  “Adele
mentioned that you had received an email giving you those instructions, but she denied sending it.”

  “That’s right,” Brendan frowned. “She did, didn’t she? I rang her. She told me to get out, that Tyler was coming after me.”

  “And why didn’t you?”

  “I was going, but then I got a call from a girl I knew. She said that she had information for me, and she was on her way to my place.”

  “What girl?”

  “I don’t know her name. She was a whore.” Brendan gritted his teeth and glared at the floor. “I opened the fucking door to her.”

  “And what happened?”

  “Jesus.” Brendan shook his head and suddenly glared at Cooper. “So why haven’t I got some sort of police protection? Why isn’t someone here watching my room?”

  “Why would that be necessary, Mr. North?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because someone tried to fucking kill me.”

  “But you don’t think either Tyler or Vaughn were responsible.”

  “Only Adele and her parents knew where I was staying. Even Tyler wouldn’t have been able to find me, unless they told someone.”

  “Then who, Mr. North? Who else knew that you were working with her to find Tyler?”

  “Nobody.” The frown was growing deeper on Brendan’s face. “Unless…”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless she answered that email.” Brendan grew agitated, shaking his head as he sat up in the chair and poured himself a drink. “Nah, she wouldn’t have been that stupid. I told her how fucking dangerous it was getting, who we could be dealing with.”

  He drank the cordial back in one gulp and remained staring out at nothing. He suddenly sobbed. “Three of them. They had accents. They had fucking Russian accents.”

  Cooper stared at him. “Are you saying the men who attacked you had Russian accents?”

  “Tyler was involved with Russian mafia once, years ago. Some guy named George sent me some old pictures of Tyler and tried to get more information out of me.” He looked at Cooper. “You need to get me my laptop.”

  “I can’t. Your laptop was stolen from the forensics team.”

  “What the fuck?” Brendan suddenly launched into a hacking cough which left him grimacing. Cooper waited until he had settled.

  “Are you alright?” Cooper topped up his cup and handed it to him.

  “My chest…”

  The cup dropped from his hand as he gasped to breathe. His eyes were bulging and his face was turning purple. Cooper was pushing the emergency button as he fell from his chair. By the time the nurses were rushing in, Brendan was dead on the floor.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  It was just before noon when Lena was collecting her bag to go home. She was yawning from her early morning start and several hours of baking. With her coat on, she went out to the shop counter to bid farewell to her employers. She stopped at the door, seeing the tall, grey-haired man standing to the back of the lunchtime crowd.

  With a grin, she grabbed a paper bag and took the last loaf of yabluchnyk from the display counter, before hurrying out to the customer area. He saw her coming and his eyes wrinkled up as he smiled.

  “Hello, Eddie.” Lena was beaming with pleasure to see him. She held the bread out to him. “Yabluchnyk as promised.”

  He took the gift and brought it up to his face, inhaling the aroma of apples and pastry. His eyes closed in sheer pleasure, and when he opened them again he gazed at her. “Be my wife, Lena Moroz, and bake this for me every day and I will be the happiest of men.”

  She laughed. “You should be careful throwing marriage proposals at strange women. You might just get an acceptance.”

  “I never propose to strange women,” he grinned. “Only the young, beautiful ones, and they always turn me down. Could I ask you to join me for coffee instead?”

  Lena was blushing as she smiled. “Coffee would be good.”

  He offered his arm and Lena grinned at his forwardness, but promptly linked her arm with his and allowed him to lead her out onto the busy city street. They were talking immediately, prattling on as if they were old friends. Eddie was easy to talk to, calm and assertive. His insistence on calling Lena a young lady, had her giggling and rekindling a youth she had long forgotten.

  They stopped for Eddie to stare at one of Wellington’s quirkiest icons, a fountain of red, yellow and blue scoops pouring water into each other and down to the pool in which it stood.

  “This, I do not understand,” Eddie remarked.

  Lena laughed. “The Buckets, and what is there to understand? It’s fun and the sound of the water is soothing, unless you have a full bladder. The little children love it. I watch their faces and see the happiness such a simple thing can bring.”

  Eddie shook his head. “I could not imagine this in the middle of Moscow.”

  “Right outside Lenin’s tomb,” Lena giggled. “It would brighten up the place.”

  He gave her a stern frown. “That type of talk would have got you into serious trouble once.”

  “The days of whispers are over,” she told him firmly. “These days, I say whatever I want to say, and if Lenin doesn’t like it, he can kiss my…”

  “Lena.” Eddie growled quickly, looking about. “There is a very naughty side to you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I will behave myself.”

  He peered at her, smiling. “No. I like your naughtiness. It makes me smile.”

  “I am not usually this way,” Lena explained. “I feel very… relaxed today. It must have something to do with my charming companion.”

  Lena was surprised at how much she was enjoying his company. She liked how tall he was and how he maintained a firm possession of her arm. She could feel the strength in him. Many younger men would not be as fit.

  “Tell me about your family,” he said.

  Lena shrugged. “Ukrainian parents, but Russian all through my family, or what’s left of it. Husband was Ukrainian, a true nationalist. He died in the first riots in Kyiv, when they wanted to make Russian an equal language. He had my daughter with him at the time. It was lucky that she wasn’t killed too.”

  “I don’t understand this. Most Ukrainians speak Russian. What difference does it make?”

  “Danil spoke often of Ukraine under Soviet rule, when our language was banned, even in the printing of books.” Lena frowned. “He wanted Greta to know the history of her country, but sometimes he got carried away and I would tell him off for frightening her.”

  Eddie nodded thoughtfully. “I certainly wouldn’t want to return those days, but all that is long gone.”

  “Danil didn’t think so. He constantly talked of how Ukrainians suffered under Stalin, how we had lost our identity in the Soviet. Sometimes those talks spilled over into the restaurant that we owned in Donetsk. Our Russian customers took exception, and it invited attacks upon us, and certainly didn’t make good business.”

  “I can’t imagine it would in that part of the country.”

  Lena sighed. “My marriage to Danil suffered under his patriotism. I resented that he encouraged my daughter to believe in these things. I resented that he could throw his life away so easily, killed by a couple of drunken thugs over words.”

  He stopped and gazed down at her with concern. “I am deeply sorry for your loss, Lena.”

  “No, I am sorry. There is a time and a place for such matters and I am here to enjoy a coffee with you.”

  Eddie frowned, looking about. “Where are we?”

  After looking around the area, Lena laughed. “We’re near the harbour. We must have been talking too much and I still haven’t had my coffee. You are a terrible date.”

  He gaped until he saw her giggling. “And you are a very cheeky girl. It is a good thing that you are pretty and bake so well. Come and I get you your coffee.”

  They were soon seated on the wharf, tearing at the apple cake while sipping on coffee from Styrofoam cups. Their conversation competed with mouthfu
ls of cake and several bouts of laughter.

  “So what do you do, Eduard Utkin?”

  “I’ve come to help my nephew with some business he is conducting here. He has a dairy co-op in the South Island, but he conducts some of his affairs in Wellington.”

  “Ah, so you milk cows,” she teased.

  He chuckled and peered at her. “And you, Lena Moroz, what brought you to this place?”

  Her smile faded away and she looked out at the water. “I’ve come to find my daughter. She came to New Zealand to go to university here, several months after Danil died. We didn’t part on the best of terms, but she kept in contact by emails for a while and then they didn’t come any more. I haven’t heard from her in nearly two years.”

  “I’m very sorry,” Eddie remarked quietly. “I can imagine how distressing it is for you.”

  “It is, and my hopes had been fading, until yesterday.” She smiled at him. “I was told that she was seen several weeks ago.”

  “This was your meeting for which you deserted me?”

  She smiled sadly. “You were very kind to me. Without your intervention, I would have died of shame. I’m not proud of my behaviour, to be drinking so early.”

  “Lena.” Eddie took her hand. “It has been a long time since I’ve had anything to smile about. Sitting alone in that café, I heard your sweet Ukrainian voice address that idiot of a manager, and in that one moment I am swept away to another time and place.”

  She stared at him. “I know how that feels. I am glad that I was able to do this for you.”

  “And then I saw your beautiful, young face…”

  Lena laughed. “It is a long time since I’ve felt young or beautiful. Yesterday, I saw a girl who was stunning to look at, incredibly beautiful, and she spoke of her love for her husband. It made me sad for her, because I think she has some kind of trouble. It reminded me of a time when I felt incredibly lonely, and then, there he was, my guardian angel.”

  “Your guardian angel?”

  “A tall, handsome, blue-eyed angel with lots of muscles and a grumpy temper.”

  Eddie laughed. “And how did you meet such an angel?”