by Jeff Carson
They said goodbye to the Rossis and climbed in the Alfa Romeo.
“Sleep now,” she said in a motherly tone. She turned the key and pulled out of the gate with less speed Wolf was accustomed to feeling in her passenger seat.
“What do you think? Do you really think my brother killed himself?”
“I think … I think we will find out. I think you need sleep. Go to sleep.”
He tilted the seat back and lost consciousness.
Chapter 28
A light brushing on his cheek pulled him from a dreamless sleep.
“Yep?” He popped his eyes wide open.
“We are here.” Lia’s face filled his view. She was close, tilting her head sideways to the same angle as his, her hair dangling across her face.
Wolf lay still. Without thinking he reached up and brushed her hair behind her ear.
She narrowed her eyes slowly with a short-lived smile that turned to a hard gaze. Her lips parted and she exhaled loudly. Her warm breath caressed his face.
He reached and pulled her head close. There was zero resistance. Zero hesitation.
Lia’s mouth gently connected with his, her tongue diving with eager swirls that tasted of sweet saliva and red wine. Her breaths came in hard pants, vividly audible over the soft Italian music that played on the radio. Lia reached between them and yanked hard on the emergency brake with a loud crank, then groped at his crotch hungrily with the same hand as she moved closer.
He reached his right hand between her thighs and shifted himself closer.
Suddenly, she ripped free and pushed his hand away. “No, sorry. Sorry, I … we cannot do this!” she said, straightening and putting her hands on the steering wheel. “Sorry.” She sat, looking down at the steering wheel.
Wolf looked at her. “Okay, uh … okay.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I will pick you up first thing tomorrow, okay?” She looked at him with pleading eyes.
“Yeah, sure.” He shifted himself upright, then struggled with the seat reclining lever. “See you tomorrow at eight?”
“Okay then.” She turned with a smile.
“Bye.”
He got out and stood up, suddenly lightheaded, with absolutely no clue where he was. He looked forward and craned his neck back to see the strange building in front of him. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it before. Turning quickly, he reached to knock on the window to stop her, to tell her she’d dropped him off at the wrong place, but she had already pealed off up the road. She turned a corner and the rev of the engine faded into the quiet night. Then he saw his brother’s apartment building across the street.
Jesus. Goodnight.
Chapter 29
Wolf’s watch showed 10:25 p.m. when he entered his brother’s apartment.
He stepped out on the balcony and took a look below at the piazza. It was filled with chatter, billowing smoke, rising food aromas, and clusters of young people. Thursday night.
“Hi,” a voice startled him from above. Cristina was looking down, exhaling smoke from a cigarette.
“Hi,” he said. “Do you mind if I come up and have one of those?” Surprisingly, or not surprisingly after the wake-up call he’d just gotten, he felt wide-awake, full of wired energy, and was eager to ask a few more questions to Cristina anyway.
“Sure, come on up.”
He went upstairs and knocked.
“Come in!” She said.
She was still on the balcony looking inside. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she stood in sweat pants and a t-shirt. She was pretty, even without make-up, but there were dark circles under her eyes. It was clear she hadn’t been sleeping to well. She nodded and turned back to the railing. Wolf joined her outside.
The cigarette was lighter and a little bit thicker in his fingers than he remembered. He brought it up to his mouth, catching a brief scent of Lia’s hair on his hand, and lit it.
The second drag hit him with a harder buzz than he was expecting, and a dizzy wave shifted his balance off, so he reached for the balcony railing and looked over the edge. Fighting through the lightheadedness, he enjoyed the first half of the first cigarette he’d had in years, then had a sudden overwhelming urge to put it out, so he mashed it into her overflowing ashtray.
She leaned on the railing next to him and smiled, “Didn’t want a cigarette after all?”
Wolf laughed. “It’s been a long time. It was a little stronger than I expected.”
They stood in silence for a moment, observing the bustle of the piazza below.
“So did you find anything out today?” She asked.
“Maybe. We went to the pub my brother was at on Saturday night, the Albastru Pub. You ever been there? It’s Romanian.”
“Yes, I’ve been there.” She shifted upright. “John used to go there a lot. I went once. I do not like the place.”
“Why?”
“The guys that work there. I know their type from home. A few of them have tattoos that are the symbol of gangs from where I come from.” She looked at Wolf then took a drag. “Bad gangs.”
Wolf thought of the ink on the freakishly tall man’s hand. “Yeah, I saw tattoos. What kind of gangs? What do they do?”
“They would go around town, beating people that owned small shops, and make them pay not to be beaten in the future. They would sell drugs. Sometimes they would kill people. I think even policemen were scared of them. I learned to stay away from those types of men. There were many disappearances of girls my age growing up. Not where I lived, but close by, in the city. They were made to be prostitutes and often shipped off to other countries.” She took a long drag. “I told John that he needed to be careful there, and not to mess with anyone there. He laughed and said he wouldn’t, but I told him I was serious. That they weren’t the types of guys you wanted to mess with.” She took another drag. “He said he liked the beer.”
“Did you ever meet the Romanian guy from the observatory that Matthew works with? His name is Vlad. That’s his last name.”
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t met anyone but Matthew from the observatory.”
“Did John ever say anything about the bar? Like, he suspected anything else going on there? Like any crime? Drugs?”
She looked at him, “No, not that I can remember. Why? You think they killed him?”
Wolf just shrugged. They stood quiet for another few seconds, then he looked at her. “You holding up all right?”
She exhaled and her bottom lip quivered. A tear ran down her cheek and she wiped it quickly.
He gave her a hug and let his emotions run free for a few seconds, staring out at the orange rooftops with blurring vision.
Somewhere out in those tight streets, a man, or men, were going about their lives, thinking they’d gotten away with framing his brother for suicide. They had something coming to them. They had someone coming for them. He pulled away and wiped his eyes. “Can I use your scooter?”
She laughed. “Well, I kind of need it to get to work. Do you need a ride somewhere tomorrow?”
“No, I mean, right now.”
“Oh.” She wiped her nose on her sleeve and dried her eyes. “I guess, yes. What are you going to do?”
“I have to go check on something.”
Chapter 30
The fifty-cc engine Italian scooter screamed underneath him as he rounded a dark corner on the two-lane road. The tiny light bobbed and bounced, illuminating rows of corn on either side of the street and clouds of swirling insects. Thankfully there was little traffic at this late hour in the countryside near the Merate Observatory.
As Wolf passed the gate to the Merate Observatory they’d entered before, he cut the engine. The sudden silence was deafening after listening to the strain of the tiny engine for more than twenty minutes. He turned and coasted onto a dirt road that lined the south side of the property and pushed the scooter to a dark pocket underneath a tree next to the fence.
The engine ticked and h
issed as he propped it on the center kickstand with such ease it was like manhandling a child’s bicycle. He was ridiculously large for the scooter, but it had gotten him here.
The observatory hunkered in the dark, with the telescope dome peeking over the top of a pine tree in the near distance. From Wolf’s view through the wrought iron security fence, he saw a bright light from within the back of the property shining up on the damp air and surrounding trees.
Wolf looked around the area. There was no movement or sound, save the scooter’s cooling engine and the millions of crickets singing in the cornfields behind him.
He reached in the pack and dug out two leather jackets, a heavy hooded sweatshirt, a pair of pants, and a pair of jeans he had borrowed from John’s closet. He folded one of the leather jackets like an accordion, then hauled up and draped it length-wise across the spikes on the fence, pulling it down hard on each individual spike to seat it. He repeated the process with each article of clothing.
He pulled, sagging down with extended arms, then propelled himself over with one silent fluid move. A squish pierced the air as he landed on the damp interior lawn on the other side.
Running low and fast, he reached the edge of the southernmost building, crept to the rear, and took refuge behind a broad-leaved bush. He peeked around the corner and saw vivid white light pouring out onto the rear lawn from above two doors that were propped open.
Wolf now clearly heard voices. A heated argument was ensuing between two men, in a language that wasn’t Italian. It was more Germanic, harsh sounding.
The first man was tall and lanky, with a spiked hairdo. Cezar. His face was in and out of deep shadow, but the body was unmistakable. The second man was unmistakable as well. Vlad. They were quarrelling in Romanian.
Suddenly, a loud slap pierced the silence, and Wolf raised his eyebrows. Vlad was pleading in a crouch, and Cezar was shuffling toward him with a raised hand.
Wolf’s pulse accelerated at the unmistakable sight of a pistol in Cezar’s hand, pointed straight at Vlad’s head. Wolf was unarmed, and Wolf decided confrontation was out of the question. Avoiding detection had just become a high priority.
Wolf watched the action unfold. Both men were momentarily frozen in their theatrical poses. Then, Cezar shuffled his feet closer, apparently seriously considering the repercussions of shooting Vlad or not shooting Vlad. Vlad hunched down further, apparently hoping the few inches of distance would save him from certain death.
Cezar abruptly relaxed his posture, put the pistol in the back of his pants, and turned and walked away. He stopped a few feet away and stooped over.
Wolf narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t noticed until now that a box-shaped moving truck was parked, rear facing and wide open. The interior was pitch black due to the angle of the lights.
Cezar was rummaging through things inside of it, speaking in a nonchalant tone. A few seconds later, they both walked swiftly into the building. Then there were two loud clacks and the doors slowly swung shut.
The lights went off, plunging the property into total darkness. Wolf hunched down with the sudden change. Past experience told him it would about thirty minutes for his night vision to fully develop after exposing his eyes to that much light. However, waiting was not an option.
There was no noise coming from within the observatory. No conversation. Wolf realized Vlad and Cezar had entered the building to take care of something—something that would take long enough to justify shutting off the light, but not so long they would risk leaving the truck open. There wasn’t going to be a better opportunity. Now or never, Wolf thought.
He sprinted to the side of the truck, stopping with his back pressed to the aluminum exterior, then peeked around the corner. His blood pumped fiercely; his breath fast, yet controlled. A fresh taste of the earlier cigarette pumped out of his lungs.
The truck interior was dark. Very dark.
One of the first things he’d learned about night tracking, first from his father, and later in the Army, was to use peripheral vision in low light situations. Looking straight at something utilized the cone cells on the retina, which were rendered worthless if too dark. Scanning with the peripheral used the rod cells, which were distributed more evenly throughout the back of the retina.
He swept his vision, taking in the truck interior with an unfocused gaze, and groped with his hands.
It was filled with computers, laptop computers, of all sizes and colors. They were stacked five or ten deep along the floor of the truck all along the back and left side. And there was something else. Wolf counted six large cardboard boxes with flipped open tops, also filled with laptop computers. None of them were new, Wolf realized, as he reached in and felt a few of them. They were scratched on the corners, and some had stickers on them—A.C. Milan, Vespa, Hello Kitty … they all seemed to be used computers. Hello Kitty? Wolf pressed his face close to the sticker and felt it. It was on a laptop with a pink soft plastic covering.
Wolf remembered the conversation from the day before inside the observatory. Vlad worked for the EAC, overseeing the logistics of moving astronomical equipment between observatories throughout the European Union.
A clear mental picture was forming in Wolf’s mind as to the true nature of Vlad’s activities. Wolf surmised that, along with astronomical equipment, Vlad was trafficking stolen electronics supplied by Cezar.
Small light-colored boxes caught his attention, stacked underneath the open boxes of electronics. Wolf pushed back one of the boxes on top, unveiling a stark white cardboard one about a foot cubed in size. A dark blue logo was faintly visible on the side. He bent closer and ran his finger across it. It was the letters EAC with what looked to be stars or planets. He lifted the box. It was packed dense and heavy, and shaking didn’t produce any movement or sound inside it.
He straightened and turned an ear toward the doors, stilling his breath. He heard nothing.
The best he had in way of a blade was a tiny scooter key in his pocket. He pushed the small key into the tape, sliced it down the crease, and pulled up the cardboard. Inside was a square plastic bag packed tight, like a clear sack filled with flour. Cocaine, he thought. Cocaine was found at his brother’s apartment, and a white bag was found at Rosenwald’s. There was of course no way of knowing for sure, but if the shoe fits …
A shock jolted through Wolf’s body as he heard a jostling inside the two closed doors to the observatory. He shut the flap and replaced the box underneath the larger one in a quick move. He darted around the side of the truck as the outside light went on with a blinding flash. Wolf looked down. His feet were bathed in light. He took one large stride, aligning his feet with the tire, which put them in shadow, and hopefully unseen from the other side.
A door to the observatory swung open and hit the exterior wall with a thud. Vlad and Cezar were in mid conversation, and one of them walked briskly to the truck.
The truck sagged down with bodyweight, and rummaging sounds came from the other side of the thin metal sidewall behind Wolf’s back. Wolf looked to the front of the truck. He squinted and bore his vision into the darkness to see just where the truck was going to drive. It was parked on grass, with smooth black pavement just in front of the front tires.
His eyes followed the jet-black void cutting through the dark lawn. It went on about ten yards then veered. Wolf swung his body as his eyes travelled down the road, following it all the way to a gate, which then veered again, where the road lowered below the level of the property as it descended downwards along the perimeter.
A secondary punch of adrenaline hit him when he realized the road was the same perimeter road his scooter was parked on, right out in plain sight with a stack of coats on the fence directly above it.
He turned back to the rear of the truck again. He tensed as fingers came into view, gripping the back corner of the truck.
Just then Vlad stepped into view from the back of the truck, illuminated from the floodlight. He turned and looked directly in the direction of
Wolf. Looked right at him. “Eh?” He turned his head to the back of the truck. Vlad shot an uncomprehending glare to the mumbling voice Wolf heard within the truck and disappeared back out of sight. The truck slumped downwards again. Further downwards. They were both in the truck.
Wolf moved to the front of the truck, eyeing the open gate to the perimeter road. If he ran out to the gate, he could do it without detection, but getting the scooter as well? Not unless they stayed inside the truck long enough for him to slip past the fifty-foot section of road that was illuminated through the iron fence.
If they spotted him, would they recognize him? Wolf thought of Cezar’s pistol, and the fact that he didn’t know the man wielding it. Was he a shoot-first-and-ask-questions-later kind of guy?
Vlad and Cezar launched into a loud argument, which sounded right next to his ear. They were deep into the back of the truck.
Shaking his head, he clenched his teeth, cursing his options. He shuffled to the rear of the truck and peered around the back corner. Wolf saw the faint flashlight glow and heard them talking, probably eight feet in. It sounded like both men were rummaging through materials. Their hands were busy.
He eyed the dangling rope above, and the locking latch on the truck’s roll-up door.
Wolf sucked in a breath and lunged, gripping it with both extended arms, and pulled down with the full force of his body weight. The door slammed all the way shut faster than he expected, bouncing up from the floor a good three feet as he stumbled backwards onto his backside. He landed hard on his tailbone, then rose instantly and pulled down hard again on the handle this time, catching a glimpse of shoes inside. The door began to rise, and Wolf knew the leverage two men had trying to raise the door from the standing position was much more than he had holding it down with his arm. It inched higher.
The locking latch was right there in front of his face, but the door needed to be completely closed. Putting both of his hands on the exterior handle, he pulled down with the force of his two hundred pound body lifted off the ground. It slammed shut, and at the same instant he flipped the latch.
