Red Widow (Vivian Xu, Book 1)

by Nathan Wilson

  “Forgive my indiscretion. I’ll keep you apprised as new developments unfold.” Tatiana crossed her arms and glared at the newspaper clippings pinned to the wall.

  “I’m not as powerless as you’d like to think, Nikolai.”

  He didn’t respond. They worked silently and ruefully in the small office without exchanging the slightest pleasantry. She dominated his space like a tyrant, keeping a watchful eye on him. It amused him all the same. The silence was so acute he could almost hear her thoughts.

  “Tatiana… Could you tell me about the organ trafficking operation you were assigned to?” She cocked an eyebrow at the intriguing question.

  “It was a covert operation code-named ‘Human.’ We busted an organ trafficking ring run by a former kickboxer. Dozens of young women were being confined in a warehouse. The traffickers didn’t even use anesthetics during the operations—just a crude cocktail of vodka and painkillers. The trafficking ring extended all the way to the Ukraine.

  “Typically, these networks set up shop in underdeveloped countries and coerce the poor into submitting to horrific procedures. Then the organs are shipped off to more wealthy and affluent nations. We found close to forty million dollars’ worth of organs packaged into tubs. Unfortunately, many of the women came down with infections months after the procedures. One of the girls was only nine years old.”

  “Nine years old?” Nikolai gasped.

  “Yes.” Tatiana sighed and slid into a chair. “It was a tragic situation. The traffickers had removed her kidneys, corneas, and several skin grafts from her chest. Anyone capable of doing that to a little girl probably doesn’t have a heart of his own—”

  “What was her name?” he anxiously pressed.

  “Nikolai, what’s the matter with you?” He suddenly realized his hands were digging into Tatiana’s shoulders, his sweating face only a hair away from hers. He reeled back, bashing his knee against the desk and knocking over a lamp. Porcelain smashed against the floor, and Nikolai could already feel the cracks widening in his mind.

  “What just happened?” Tatiana demanded.

  “My head is spinning…” He shielded his face as he scavenged the pieces of the lamp.

  “Are you on any medication?”

  “Just some pills for anxiety. It’s nothing to worry about.” Suddenly, he clutched his chest and swooned toward his desk.

  “Nikolai!”

  “It’s okay…” He could suddenly picture a mess of scalpels and skin grafts and an innocent girl’s face. He batted his eyes furiously as tears began to scorch down his cheeks. His hands balled into fists, clutching his knees with such fury. Tatiana’s hand came to rest on his trembling back. “It’s okay,” Nikolai whispered again.

  “I’ll take you home. Come on.” He nodded absently as Tatiana propped him up and slid his arms through his jacket. Nikolai felt like a toddler as she buckled him into the leather seat of his Skoda Octavia. The engine roared to life and Tatiana teased the vehicle onto the main roads. Nikolai watched the traffic headlights blur by in a mosaic of neon streaks.

  He had never truly noticed how beautiful Prague looked at this hour. Time never ceased to allow him a moment of tranquility. Not until now.

  The face of an astronomical clock tower glowed from Old Town Square. Its iron hands ticked ever closer to midnight, ushering in the hours where the city passed over into the reign of the dystopian, cyberpunk masses. As his car traversed Charles Bridge, Nikolai concentrated on the glimmering waters radiant with reflections. How he could lose himself in the Vltava River, drifting away to another time and place that suspended reality.

  “My daughter, Emily… she was nine years old when she was taken from me.” Nikolai wrapped his jacket a little tighter around himself like armor over his heart. “She was murdered, but the details of her death were kept secret from me. The investigation was eventually turned over to BIS. To this day, I’m still trying to understand what happened to her.”

  Tatiana gazed ahead, bound in silence.

  “Her name wasn’t Emily.”

  Nikolai slumped in relief.

  “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. She was my sole hope in the world after my marriage collapsed.” Tatiana steered past a row of shops. She thought of the times she and her husband dined at neighboring restaurants on steamy summer evenings.

  “I’ve also endured my share of divorce; trouble over finances, losing interest in each other, the secrecy of my work… What else would you expect from a couple that married too young?”

  “I completely understand. The secrecy of my work tore my marriage apart, too. When I couldn’t reveal where I had been and what I was doing, my wife began to suspect I was seeing another woman. She would tear into me and hurl baseless accusations that I must have found someone prettier than her. Her paranoia actually drove her to hire a private investigator to keep track of me. A word of advice: Never hire someone to investigate a detective.”

  A cold laugh rattled out of his chest.

  “Eventually, she started hanging out with different men to make me jealous. When I came to realize I wasn’t jealous in the least, I wondered why I was sticking with her. The only good thing that resulted from our marriage was Emily.”

  He closed his eyes.

  “She would always welcome me home and proudly show off her drawings. She dreamt about growing up to be an artist.”

  “How long did your marriage last?”

  “Eight years. My daughter was born when I was only a child myself.”

  Tatiana sighed.

  “Marriage is a crapshoot when it comes to those of us in uniform, whether it’s law enforcement or intelligence. To be honest, though, I’m glad to be rid of him. My ex drank every night and flirted with other women in front of me.”

  Nikolai shifted uncomfortably at the mention of binge drinking. God knows he drowned in liquor almost every night.

  “Take a right here and I’ll point out my house.” Minutes later, the car swung into his driveway and growled across the gravel. For a moment, Nikolai wallowed in his seat, gazing at the lights in the windows. Sometimes he would sleep overnight at his office just to escape this prison cell of a home.

  The passenger door swung open and he turned to the hand beckoning him.

  “Come on. Let’s get you inside.” He clasped Tatiana’s hand and embarked on the treacherous journey toward the door. At last, he collapsed onto the couch.

  “Feeling better?”

  “A little.”

  “Let me mix you a drink.” Her heels clattered across the kitchen tiles and she opened the cabinets. “Good God, you have so much of it.” Nikolai flushed and chuckled.

  “You mentioned your ex drank a lot. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m guilty of the same vice.” Tatiana nimbly dropped a few ice cubes in the glass of Becherovka. That alcoholic blend of herbs and spices never failed to fill the void inside. Its mysterious recipe was closely guarded by only a few individuals in the Czech Republic. Tatiana worked diligently as she mixed some tonic water in the glass.

  “You didn’t drink in front of her, did you?”

  “What?”

  “Emily.”

  “Of course not,” Nikolai retorted. “I barely touched liquor during my marriage. But I fell into a rut after Emily…”

  “Take this.” Her fingers brushed against his as she handed him the glass. Nikolai shivered as he lifted it to his lips and drained it into the endless chasm of misery he dared to call his soul. Suddenly, he pried it from his lips and set it down.

  “I must look pathetic,” he confessed. “What would she think of me? To see her father stooped over a bottle every night. The liquor has probably replaced the blood in my veins by now.” He pushed the half-emptied glass away with disgust.

  Tatiana plopped down in the leather armchair across from him. Her eyes flickered from the abandoned drink to Nikolai.

  “Why do you pity yourself?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Yes, you feel sorry for yourself, N
ikolai. You think losing your daughter entitles you to binge drink until you vomit your misery into the toilet? From the moment I first laid eyes on you, I could tell you hated everything. You think everyone harbors resentment against you, and you’re all alone in this deceitful world. You think Emily was the only one who ever really cared.”

  “Don’t you dare speak about Emily.”

  “That’s why you resent me, isn’t it? You think my interests align solely with BIS. You suspect I’ll remove any trace of the killer and the murders—and Krista, Natalie, and the other victims will fade from the headlines. The grieving mothers and fathers will face their sorrows alone. The same way you were left without answers.”

  Nikolai sprang to his feet, capsizing the table and spilling the mixed drink across the floor.

  “Enough, Tatiana!” She lunged forward.

  “To answer your question, yes, looking in on your fortress of bottles, you come across as pathetic. You’re barely there, Nikolai, just a puddle of alcohol on the floor. But I know there’s more to you than that. The real Nikolai is buried under a wave of self-loathing and liquor.” Her sizzling eyes plunged deep into his. “Where are you?”

  He couldn’t breathe under the scrutiny of those eyes. They stripped him down to the most basic emotions. Vulnerability. Despair. Silently crying out for help.

  “I’m lost,” he breathed.

  Before he even realized it, her body pressed against his. He didn’t resist as their arms entwined. He grabbed at anything or anyone to save him from himself.

  “Then let me help find you. There’s more to you than this.” Nikolai buried himself in her warmth, taking comfort in her fragrant smell. He needed her company to ward away the despair that haunted him tonight. He flinched when he felt her wet lips graze his neck, and he instinctively curled up in defense. Suddenly, the words she said about his insecurity synapsed. The vexing truth glared into his soul, the reality that he was a prisoner of his own self-loathing and paranoia. Maybe he was wrong to judge everyone, including Tatiana, on that premise. She welcomed him back into her arms as those chains of fear slipped away.

  He sighed as the tingling sensation of her lips laced pleasure across his throat.

  He unbuttoned her blouse and gently removed her bra. Tenderness and brutality met in that instant as their lips slammed together. But when isn’t desire accompanied by the most violent of emotions, the most animalistic of tendencies?

  She clasped his hands and applied them to her ample breasts. Her nipples pebbled under his fingers, and he squeezed them harder.

  “Forgive me,” Nikolai murmured, not quite aware what he was apologizing for. Perhaps the harsh way he treated her since she first traipsed into his office.

  Tatiana traced kisses from his chest down to his thighs. Her lips were the gateway to heaven as they devoured every inch of his flesh. His nerves ignited with unparalleled pleasure.

  She leaned into him and her nails dug into his skin.

  Nikolai kissed her neck and cupped her left breast in his hand. Her belt slithered to the floor as Nikolai peeled away her pants, drawing Tatiana into frenzy.

  Her lips smashed against his with brutal desire, nearly sending his head spinning as their mouths fused.

  The sound of her body colliding with his indulged him, an encore of salacious moans and cries singing his praise. Tatiana arched her back in feral pleasure and Nikolai dipped her forward. He cradled her just above the floor as another sigh gushed from her chest, and her eyes lit up.

  It had been so long since a woman welcomed him inside. He could feel his loneliness melting away as she buried her head against his chest. Her hair rippled across his skin, carrying the luxurious scent of their sex.

  How he wished she could sink into him, their flesh melding to become a new being.

  At last, he could see heaven from down there in hell.

  * * *

  Mother, you cannot hurt me anymore. Those six words echoed ominously in Vivian’s head. Every crime scene contained a variation of that portending phrase.

  She looked down at her wrist.

  “Syllax,” she breathed. The killer hadn’t injected her with any mere sedative or hallucinogen. He had exposed her to a hazardous pharmaceutical. Vivian hyperventilated as her thoughts turned to Eileen, the woman in the video who suffered a post-traumatic episode.

  Is that what she experienced in the hospital? A terrible event buried in her past? Her head buzzed just thinking about the man bleeding in the alley. His face was a blur, an indistinguishable fleshy mass without characteristics. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the vision from her brain.

  There was no time to ponder that dilemma now. How should she react to this new development in the case? So many questions swirled in her head after watching the tape.

  While the killer scrawled his trademark message at every crime scene, he never referenced his mother before. How did she fit into this grisly puzzle?

  If only Vivian could find this woman and unearth the truth. But how? Vivian gazed at the static growling on the screen. Suddenly, she pressed rewind. The morbid suicide unfolded in a backward sequence; the drug draining back into the syringe, the hypodermic needle retreating from his wrist, his voice zigzagging at odd pitches. At last, she hit play.

  “I never intended for this outcome. I thought I was helping others. I sincerely do not expect understanding or forgiveness.” She pressed pause and squinted at the mortgage papers and subpoenas. Vincent… Viktor…

  She leaped off the couch and leaned toward the screen, trying to decipher the name until pixels swam before her eyes.

  “Come on.”

  Viktor Rezník.

  Vivian popped out her cell phone.

  “Camilla? I need you to find someone for me.”

  * * *

  Nikolai slumbered tranquilly next to Tatiana in his bed, their naked bodies finally pried apart. The hours of lovemaking physically drained Nikolai until oblivion beckoned him to its alluring doorstep. Still warm from the frenzy of their tangled bodies, Tatiana crawled out from under the sheets.

  She sensuously stretched and swept the dark hair out of her eyes. Who would have thought she could tame the beast residing in Nikolai?

  Tatiana studied his prominent features as she donned her bra and shirt; his dark eyebrows, firm lower jaw, and beautiful, full-bodied lips. Those lips were especially unaccustomed to wearing a smile.

  When she was certain he wouldn’t wake, she abandoned the bedroom. Her feet carried her to his study. On Nikolai’s desk rested the briefcase he always toted in hand. There wasn’t a moment it didn’t leave his sight, cradled close to him like an infant child. Tatiana had a pretty good feeling about what it contained, although there was only one way to confirm her suspicions. She suspected the combination was either Emily’s birthday or the date of his divorce. Divorce it is, she thought as the locks crisply opened. She congratulated herself for asking all the right personal questions.

  Reaching inside, her manicured fingertips flitted through files associated with the investigation. She held up a photo of an Asian girl with scarlet hair. Her red eyes glistened hungrily, and blood was spattered on her jacket. But whose ruptured arteries did that blood belong to?

  “Vivian Xu?” she murmured. She flipped the photo over and scanned the description. “Arrested for attempted murder and engaging in sexual acts for compensation.” So this was the girl she followed to the basilica. Bits and pieces began to fall in place into a mental jig-saw puzzle. A coy smile creased Tatiana’s perfectly ample lips. “So you’re just a little bird in Nikolai’s cage.”

  She longed to question this Vivian Xu and learn what arrangement she had forged with Nikolai.

  Perhaps Vivian would prove more forthcoming about the investigation than the surly homicide detective. Tucking the photo back into the briefcase, she neatly arranged the contents with obsessive detail. Not even Nikolai would notice that someone defiled his privacy. Hell, he wouldn’t even realize she defiled his body, in addit
ion to his trust.

  Men were so absurdly weak in the face of a naked woman.

  She tiptoed into the bedroom where Nikolai remained encased in a comatose sleep. She quietly slid into her pants. Suddenly, the nightstand caught her attention. Just one peek and she would be on her way…

  She delicately opened the drawer and scanned the baubles Nikolai had collected over a lifetime of sorrow.

  “What is this?” she said, running her fingers along the inside of the drawer. Careful not to disturb Nikolai, she lifted the false bottom.

  A gasp whooshed out her lungs.

  A few minutes later, she slipped on her shoes. Her earthly delights were once more veiled under her white shirt and pants. She cast a final look over her shoulder at the forlorn man sleeping in bed. She almost reached for the door when she remembered something. Her hand plunged into her pocket. Tatiana fished out a wedding band encrusted with diamonds and slid it snugly over her finger.

  FOURTEEN

  The Neurology Zikmund Institute was every inch the facility Jezebel remembered from her days as an intern. Of course, it had been upgraded since with vast layers of security and top-notch equipment. Herds of excited students fluttered down the halls, gushing about how far they had advanced since their clinicals.

  How would they fare when they were holding live specimens moments away from experimentation? Would they still gush with enthusiasm?

  Jezebel understood the gravity of dealing with life and death. After all, she was well acquainted with life’s end product when it made the final journey to her autopsy table. In some ways, she believed it was easier dealing with humans than animal specimens. Animals were completely innocent. A man or woman, on the other hand, could be guilty of all manner of atrocities committed throughout a lifetime of debauchery.

  She could be slicing open a sex offender on her table or sealing an adulteress in the freezer. With that thought in mind, she tried to view everything from a clinical aspect in the morgue. A little morbid humor helped melt the tension as well, although it often pushed Nikolai over the edge—but that was a reward in and of itself.