There was a chair next to the bookcase. It must’ve been her reading space. I lifted the chair cushion and checked under it. Nothing.
“Check the bathroom, Max.” I went through some of the clothes on the floor. “Check the toilet tank and under the sink.”
“Bathroom duty. Awesome.” Max headed that way.
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Boris, if Yuri was hiding something, where do you think he would put it? You knew him well.”
“I was thinking that too. There’s one place he would hide things, when we were kids.” Boris walked over to the mattress, placed it back on the frame, and did the other one.
“He used to hide cigarettes and porno mags in his mother’s bedroom. She was really religious and was always checking up on him, going through his things. So he would hide the stuff right above her because that would be the last place she would look.”
“How did he get the stuff?”
“Any time she took a bath or left to go grocery shopping.”
“Make sense.
“Later, when he started selling drugs, he would place some of it up here.” Once the bed was put back in order, he climbed on top of it, pushed up the ceiling tile, and dug his hands through the space. “Maybe, he did it again. He had this box that he used for small items.”
“I’m sorry about Yuri and his mother. I’ll fix this, Boris.”
“No. We’ll fix this together.”
“Yeah. We will.”
“Here it is.” He pulled out a wooden box from the ceiling and then left the bed. “Maybe, he put whatever it is inside of this”
“God, I hope so.”
Boris brought it over to me.
Kaz’s men were about to walk into the bedroom.
I shook my head. “Stay out there.”
I didn’t know who I could trust anymore. At this moment, I would only have faith in Kaz and my people. Others would be guilty until proven innocent.
Boris opened the wooden box. “I’ve never seen this photo before.”
I looked.
A black and white picture sat inside of it. Six men stood in suits. A few had tattoos peeking out of the suit jackets from their wrists and near their collars, suggesting they were Bratva. That was the tame part of the image. The horror came on the ride of the picture. One of the men held a chained leash. On the other end of the leash, a naked black man sat on all fours on the floor like a dog.
I swallowed. “You’ve never seen this before?”
“No. I would have remembered.”
Boris pointed to the naked black man. “This isn’t his father.”
“Yeah. I saw his father in the other picture.”
I turned over the photo. That symbol from yesterday was written on the back—a star with an eye in the center.
A cold chill rushed up my spine. “This is what the person wanted.”
Boris looked at me. “Where do you think Yuri got it from?”
“We have to figure out all the last places he went before he died. He found it and then the person figured it out—”
“And killed him.”
“But Yuri didn’t have the picture on him. He hid it.” I turned the image back over and studied the six men’s faces. “Anybody look familiar?”
“No.”
I stuck the photograph in my pocket. “Kaz will know at least one of them. They’re definitely Bratva.”
Blue hurried into the bedroom. “Emily, a kid saw something. His name is Red. He’s in the hallway.”
“Good job, Blue.” I headed that way.
Boris followed.
I spotted the little boy. He was skin and bones with strawberry red hair and freckles on his cheek. He spoke in Russian to Blue.
“Yes, she’s the mouse.” Blue placed her hands on her hips. “Speak English.”
The boy pointed on the other side of the hallway. “I was sitting under the stairwell.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Why?”
The boy opened his mouth but said nothing.
Boris frowned. “He was waiting to rob someone.”
“Okay. I understand.” I nodded. “What did you see, Red?”
“Three guys. Big men. One had a bald head with a blue cross tattooed on it.”
Boris jumped in, “The blue cross was on his head?”
“Yes.” Red widened his eyes.
I lowered to his level. “What kind of clothes?”
“Suits.”
“Makes sense. Tell me this, Red. Did they slam the door in with a big metal bar?”
“Yes.” Red stretched out his hands. “It was this big.”
“What happened after that?”
“The woman screamed, and I shut my eyes.” Red shivered in front of me. “And then she didn’t scream anymore. I was afraid to leave. I thought maybe there were more men outside. I stayed right here for a long time.”
“You were probably right. That was smart.”
“I pissed my pants too.” Red pointed to the dirty jeans. A stain covered the front. It was clear he had no home or no one looking after him, since he still wore the same clothes from yesterday. “I didn’t leave until I heard them go. When they left, I didn’t look at their faces. I shut my eyes.”
“I understand.” I took out my wallet, opened it, and pulled out several bills. “Here. Get some new jeans and something to eat. No more robbing old ladies.”
“Where’s your mother?” Boris asked.
Red took the money. “I don’t have a mother.”
Blue scowled. “Everybody had a mother, kid.”
“Not me.” The little boy stuffed his pocket with the money.
“Go to the shelter in this district and ask for Fatuma.” Boris grimaced. “That’s my mother. Tell her I sent you. She’ll get you some food and help you out, so you won’t have to spend the money. You can just keep it close to you.”
Red began to run off.
Boris grabbed him by the shirt. “Hide the money in your underwear and go straight there. Fatuma will help you with getting clothes too.”
Red rushed away.
My head rang, assaulted from all the surprises of this week.
I let out a long breath. “Blue stay here with Lemon. I need our people directing the police. I don’t want Kaz’s men close to this until I trust them.”
“Okay.” Blue left. “I’ll grab Lemon.”
Boris turned to me. “Now what?”
“Let’s get out of here, before the cops and Kaz’s men come.” I headed away. “Let’s see if we can fit in the brothel or the drug house.”
“It won’t be the brothel. I think the drug house is a quick fix. Less armed men and mainly addicts.”
I wanted to burn down that brothel now. But with my pregnancy and in this new world, I couldn’t just act on emotion. I had to be careful. “I still want to check out the brothel.”
“We can do that.”
“After today, it’s going to be a bitch to get out of the penthouse again. I can already feel the lion’s chains wrapping around my ankle. If I want to get shit settled in this district, it needs to be done today. As much as possible without getting hurt.”
Chapter 21
Monkey see, Monkey do
Kazimir
Enraged, I shut off the phone and looked at Pavel. “Send half of our people with us to Kapotnya. I want them watching Emily and then immediately taking her back to the Penthouse.”
Pavel frowned. “But, we need you safe—”
“Do it!”
Pavel tossed his hair over his shoulder, took out his phone, and made the orders. Half of my motorcade stopped following us and turned off into the other direction.
David sat across from me. “Something wrong?”
“One of Emily’s men was killed while we were in Paris. She just went by his house. Now, his mother is dead.”
“Yes.” David frowned. “Why would anyone kill a dead man’s mother?”
“Something to hide.”
“We’ll find
it.”
“We will.” I looked out the limo as it rolled up to my house and parked. All day I had been anticipating a good torture session. “For now, we talk to the men who have been erasing the footage on the security tapes.”
David rubbed his hands. “Nothing like a good torture on a sunny day.”
“Yes. It is a lovely day for inflicting pain.” I glanced up at the sky. “Should we bring them outside, cut them under the blue sky?”
David smirked. “It would be nice to hear their screams along with the birds chirping.”
I left the limo, surprised to see none of my security outside the house’s door and waiting for me. Several vans had gone ahead of us to get everything ready.
David rushed up the stairs and opened the door for me.
Inside of the house, three of my men were rushing to the door. When they spotted me, horror hit their faces.
I growled in Russian, “What?”
“The men are dead.”
I leaned my head to the side. “The ones in the cells?”
He nodded.
Fast, I grabbed him by his neck and slammed him against the wall. “What do you mean they’re dead? People were watching them. This is my house!”
He trembled under me. “They’re dead and the guards that were watching them are dead too. Even the butler and two maids.”
Enraged, I shoved him to the ground and stormed past everyone. “Show me! Now”
The two guys hurried forward.
I got to the back and went down the steps. When my mother lived here, this area was a basement full of boxes stacked with old pictures. When she left, I had it turned into three jail cells. There, I held people that I needed to question or torture. At times it tended to be the same thing.
David and my men followed me down into the dark corridor. Carpet made way to concrete stone. A metal door stood before us.
We got to the cells.
The Devil was gone. His cell door opened. Chains dangled from the ceiling.
Who would free the Devil? That doesn’t make sense. Surely, he would have been a witness and they would’ve just killed him.
A puddle of piss had pooled on the floor. The rank scent filled the air.
This wasn’t a rescue. Whoever he saw made him piss himself.
Behind me, David went off to the next cell. “Holy Mother of God.”
I left the cell and checked what he was looking at.
Hmmmm.
The scene looked like a group of psychos had partied all morning on unwilling victims.
The first dead man was on his back. Someone had taken the top of his skull off, cut around the center of his forehead, and peeled the skin from his face. His cheekbones and his eyeballs were exposed. And the monster didn’t slice the flesh away. He just let the peeled skin dangle at the bottom of the man’s chin. Let it lay there. Inside out, like a blanket pulled down on a bed.
“What kind of monster would do this?” I opened the door and stepped inside.
The rest of the bodies lay in a huge pile, except one other man who had been thrown in the corner. Among all the torn, mangled bodies a sweet scent rode the air.
“Interesting. All of these guys were shot, but two guys were tortured.” I stepped toward that other one and took a closer look. “And they weren’t tortured by the same person.”
David still gaped in horror at the man with his face peeled off. “Yeah. Whoever did this guy took his time and really enjoyed it. He thinks he’s an artist.”
“But this one is different.” I pointed at the other man far away from the pile of bodies. “This corpse is very clean.”
The flesh was gray, white, and pink like someone had scrubbed the skin. I sniffed the air. It smelled of blood and soap.
I twisted my face in confusion. “Someone cleaned the guy, before torturing him. What kind of maniac does that?”
“Hold on.” David hurried over. “He cleaned the guy, before he tortured him?”
“Yes.” I kneeled and studied the dead man.
The groin was a mess. The knife cuts on the arms and shoulders were deep and obvious. I could see muscle and bone. The edges of the wounds were blue and cold. The blade had gone right through a tattoo on his left upper arm. A holy cross holding an angel’s head. The tattoo meant that the guy murdered for spiritual reasons. I checked down at the stomach. The brand that Emily had talked about was there—a star with an eye in the center.
Pavel entered. His face reddened. “What happened? Who do you think did this?”
“Wait a minute.” David rubbed his chin as if he had an idea but wasn’t completely sure. He went back to the first guy. “This looks familiar to me in some way. The cleaning and the face peeling.”
Pavel rubbed his face with both hands. “I don’t understand.”
Another man behind us spoke, “They were cleaning up. Killing any witnesses.”
“This wasn’t a cleanup.” I rose. “This was an interrogation.”
Pavel widened his eyes. “Someone. . .tortured them before us?”
“Yeah.” A nasty taste coated my mouth. I sniffed the air. “I thought I smelled soap, but it isn’t that. What do you catch in the air?”
Pavel paced in the cell. “I don’t smell anything.”
“That’s what it is. Now everything makes sense.” David walked over to me. “You smell perfume.”
“Exactly.”
“Perfume?” Pavel stopped pacing and gave me an odd look. “What does that mean?”
“You see those wounds on the peeled off man’s face.” I pointed to him. “Only a butcher would do that.”
“Are you saying the Butcher was here?” Pavel’s voice rose. “In your house and interrogating these men?”
I ran my fingers through my hair. “Jean-Pierre was here. If it’s one thing I always remember, it’s how someone kills.”
Jean-Pierre, you smart bastard. You knew which men hid the footage, but you had to get to them first.
David nodded. “And the cleaning the body part, before torturing. . .that’s Giorgio. He has his cousin, the Butler with him.”
Pavel turned back to the bodies. “Why would Jean-Pierre risk this?”
“If he can catch the responsible guys, before us, then he’ll have more bargaining power for the Corsican.”
David stepped to my side. “And now the Devil is off the table of negotiations, since he has him.”
“He’ll want more now.” I stormed out of the cells and went to the stairs. “I thought he would contact Emily first, but once he saw us leave the property he risked an arrival here. The Devil was too tempting for him. Plus, he knew I would surround her with guards.”
Very smart. Good chess move. But do you have any other plays?
I changed direction and went back to the other cell. “I should have figured out who took the Devil from the piss on the floor. The Devil surely would have urinated on himself, upon seeing the Butcher.”
Pavel remained in the cell, looking at the dead men.
David came to me. “And what about your butler and two maids? Why did he kill them?”
“He knew that they helped.” I turned to David. “Yesterday, he called Emily and told her that we shouldn’t kill the kitchen staff. He was lying. He knew that if I tortured them, they would tell us what was going on. So, he claimed that they were innocent.”
“Shit.” David raked his fingers through his hair. “I should have caught that. I’ve dealt with Jean-Pierre a lot. He’s a hell of a strategist.”
“No. I only had Emily’s safety on my mind.” I headed out of the cell and rubbed the back of my neck. “Since Jean-Pierre killed the butler and two maids, I’m sure they helped with getting the monkey heads, chimpanzee, and gorilla in here.”
Pavel, David, and I went up the stairs. The rest of our men stayed in the cells and cleaned up.
David shrugged. “We can still look the bodies over. Maybe check for the mark on their stomachs.”
“Good idea.” I nodded. “Regardles
s, Jean-Pierre will play this all out carefully. He won’t kill anyone that doesn’t deserve it. He knows I’ll be pissed that he came into my house. If he murdered them, then they were involved in some way.”
Pavel hurried past us and headed for the kitchen.
“Let me try to fix this.” David pulled out his phone and spoke into it, “It’s me. I thought you had watch of all airports. Check Saint Petersburg’s trains. Give Jean-Pierre’s face to authorities as well as his cousins’ pictures, especially Giorgio. He must’ve flown into another city and took the train from there.”
All Moscow agencies had been aware of his possible appearance. Jean-Pierre was smart enough to sneak in, but could he slip back out?
Minutes later, David yelled from the side of the house. “There are more staff in the kitchen—gagged and tied up!”
We headed that way.
And then my phone rang. I checked the screen, hoping it was Emily calling to tell me that she was safe. The caller was unknown.
I answered. “Yes?”
Jean-Pierre’s voice came on the line. “I’m sorry about the mess. Have you had a chance to see what I’ve done to your bedroom?”
I stopped on the main level as David and Pavel rushed past me. “You’re a cocky bastard, Butcher.”
“Perhaps, that is why your mouse and I get along so well.” Humor rode his tone. “At this point, are you regretting all the times you’ve ignored me?”
“When you took her, you awakened a sleeping giant. You were barely on my radar.” I gripped the phone hard. “Now you’re the pinpoint of my target. How does it feel, Jean-Pierre, to have all my attention? Is your cock hard?”
“Oh, Kazimir.” He chuckled. “I love when the crackle in your voice grows loud with lightning and thunder. I would take out my umbrella, but no storm will come.”
“Have you had a chance to see what I’ve done to your bedroom?”
Motioning for a few men to follow, I headed upstairs. “Where are you? I would love to have you over for dinner.”
“Good. I’m excited about that. I haven’t had a good Pelmeni in a long time.”
Four of my men remained behind me.
“Aww. Pelmeni.” I got to the top of the stairs. “A dish from my childhood.”
“I was told the meat dumpling recipe comes from Siberia. You’re from there? Correct?”
Dirty Passions Page 24
