by Simone Sinna
“I figure she’s found a man,” said Elle. “Connell tells me you met her, Harry. Seen her recently?”
“Ah no, not for a couple of days,” said Harry finding his voice. “Have we, Cheryl?”
Cheryl shook her head. Elle sighed loudly and theatrically. Connell cringed. She took her champagne glass and wandered over to stand in front of the fire. Looking at Vladimir, she frowned. “Don’t I know you?”
“Don’t think so,” said Vladimir gruffly, barely looking at her.
“Yes, I do,” Elle looked at him, concentrating hard. “Zeus nightclub maybe?”
“I’ve been there,” said Vladimir, still not looking at her and trying to convey he was absorbed in what he was reading and wanted to be left alone.
“Don’t you work for DJ?” Elle continued on, blissfully, or was it willfully, unaware that the tension in the room had gone up several levels?
Vladimir finally looked up. His eyes fixed Elle’s and Connell from the sidelines was aware that something had passed between them. Elle hesitated, then pulled a picture of her and Sienna from a year or more earlier out of her pocket and thrust it in front of him. “That’s Sienna. I seem to have lost her. Have you seen her?”
Vladimir barely glanced at it, keeping his attention on Elle. “No. Maybe she’s with DJ.”
“DJ’s never met her,” said Elle putting the photo back in her pocket. “I guess I’m going to have to report her as a missing. Her cell is turned off, not at all like her.”
“Have you tried High Towers?” Harry asked suddenly. Elle looked interested and took down details. But observing Vladimir’s stillness, Connell was pretty certain they had achieved what they had set out to do. The tree had been shaken. Now they had to wait to see what fell out.
* * * *
Soon after Connell and Elle left, so did Vladimir. Steve and Sienna had positioned themselves outside the window of the Russian’s room, hoping to see if he made a phone call, but instead he took his coat and snow boots and hurried out up the hill to Snow City. They followed from behind, ski gear providing an easy disguise. By the time they followed him in through the back entrance, he was nowhere to be seen.
“Damn,” said Steve as he texted Connell. “You stay here on this entrance,” he told Sienna. “Connell and Elle will cover the front. I’ll look in the bars and restaurant.”
Sienna nodded, and found herself a spot under the stairs. The position was still cold, but at least out of the wind and out of sight, though in the dark she was unlikely to be seen anyway. She wondered how long she would have to stay there. Her teachers had said that waiting and watching was the hardest part of PI work and the one most time would be spent doing. It was certainly boring. All she was watching was the door and stairs and apart from occasional tenants coming in and out, there was very little activity. She was starting to worry that her fingers and toes were going to be frozen when she heard someone coming down the stairs. One person. She held her breath, phone in hand. Yes, it was Vladimir and he was in a hurry. She sent a one-word text to Steve. Following.
Vladimir was obviously heading back to Icebreaker. In reply to Steve’s where r u? she typed this in once she had positioned herself outside Vladimir’s room. The light went on and it seemed he wasn’t planning to stay as he didn’t bother with blinds. She saw him grab his ski boots and the light went off. Scrambling to the back door, she saw him leave, skis in hand. Shit.
There was no possibility for her to follow him on skis. She watched him hurry over the road and in the street light saw him heading up the hill. Texting Steve and Connell, she made an educated guess. I think he’s heading to Mary’s Slide to see if he can find a body. As she started to head back to Snow City, that left her with a question. Who had he seen that had told him to disappear skiing? When the answer came to her, she groaned, and decided yet again that this time she really was going to kill Elle O’Grady for getting her into this whole mess.
* * * *
When Steve got the message from Sienna, he agreed with her guess. The only person Vlad would have listened to was DJ. Which he meant there was a good chance he was there in person. If they were right, it meant that he and Connell could catch Vladimir red handed at the scene of the crime. And maybe play not exactly by the rules to get to the truth. Icebreaker was further down the slope than where they would be starting from, which would give them time to put on ski gear and walk up the road to the ridge where the cross-country track went directly to Mary’s Slide.
It proved remarkably easy. There was no one else on the slope and Vladimir’s headlamp could be seen flickering through the trees. Grimly the two half brothers followed, knowing that this was their best chance of getting to the truth, and maybe some justice. Steve let Tom know where they were heading, but ignored the vibrations in his pocket which was almost certainly him. He wasn’t going to be talked out of this, and Tom as a cop would want to play by the rules.
It was a cloudy night, but occasionally the moon managed to escape its cover and an eerie silvery glow bathed the mountain. It was going to take them half an hour to get across the ridge, but they were younger than Vladimir and both fit and excellent skiers. If only two of the three of them returned in one piece, Steve was confident he and Connell would be the victors. He wanted justice for Richard Crane. Steve remembered him better than his half brother did, a decent man who had tried to be a good father to replace Charles Prescott, Steve’s father who had returned to London after the divorce with Tiffany. Connell’s anguish at losing his dad, and their mutual hatred of DJ, who had alternated between showering them with gifts to keep them happy and belting them whenever Tiffany wasn’t looking, had made the boys close from the moment Richard Crane died. Steve always looked after Connell, and putting DJ in prison was going to be his greatest gift.
* * * *
Sienna found Elle in the Snow City bar with a man on either side.
“Sorry guys, she’s gay,” said Sienna, grabbing Elle and pulling her over to a corner table, ignoring her protests. The guys looked like they were debating whether to follow.
“Who,” said Sienna between gritted teeth, “was on that helicopter with you?”
Elle looked surprised. “Why?”
“Why?” Sienna looked at her friend, lost for words that could begin to explain. Finally she said, “It wouldn’t have been daddy dearest, would it?”
Elle didn’t even look embarrassed, but then why would she? She didn’t believe her father was a murdering, drug-running asshole, because she didn’t want to believe that. She needed him to be admirable and godlike, so any evidence to the contrary was conveniently ignored.
“You said it was urgent,” said Elle. “So I rang the one person who could help.”
“Did you tell him why you needed to get to Hotham so quickly?”
“Of course,” said Elle. “I said you were in trouble. I’m always talking about you, so he knew it was important. He was arriving back at the same time as I hit Tullamarine airport so he organized the chopper. Cool, hey, hon?”
“Is there any reason you never bothered telling me he was your father? Just curious.” Particularly as they had never had secrets from each other.
Elle had the grace to look guilty this time. “I really wanted to, but he wanted me to keep it secret, our secret. Even from his stepsons. I was his secret weapon, he said.” She giggled. Sienna shook her head. Poor Elle, she really couldn’t recognize bullshit even when delivered on a platter. She was aware that their corner was being invaded and she turned around to give the boys from the bar a piece of her mind. But there was something in the way they were standing that silenced her. She hadn’t paid them much attention before. Now she did. They were both broad shouldered and one was at least six four with a crooked nose, a memento to a fight she rather imagined the other side had ended up looking worse from. The shorter one at maybe six foot, had tattoos over his bulging biceps, and forearms that were folded in front of him.
“Boss wants to see you girls,” he said.
* * * *
They tackled him at the top of Mary’s Slide. Connell ploughed right into him, Steve behind with a fist to his head. Vladimir grunted and fell to his knees, but he was a good enough fighter and skier to quickly recover, and, keeping low, took off down the mountain. The moon was out from the clouds, but there were shadows everywhere. It took all their wits and skill not to fall, both men just behind Vladimir. It reminded Steve of the last time he had beaten Connell, pre-Olympics. Now Connell was no longer training and with all of the metal in his leg, Steve was back in contention.
Vladimir was a solid skier and twice did an unexpected sharp turn that gained him some ground. He reached the bottom of the slope and jumped from the end onto the trail. Connell, who was higher up, did likewise and only just missed colliding with him. On a narrow path with a snow bank on one side and a creek on the other, it was impossible to pass. Connell was straight behind and Steve at the rear.
Visibility now was minimal and Vladimir was relying on his helmet light and the men behind on the single light and the dim shape of the body in front. Connell kept pushing forward into him, and on the third time he did it with such force that Vladimir overcorrected and headed off to his right, yelling as he slipped and fell onto rocks and straight into the icy stream.
* * * *
DJ was ensconced in the penthouse suite. Elle bounced her way to the lift while Sienna was conscious of being semi frog-marched, thug on either side.
“George,” said Elle, walking in the door. “This is Sienna.”
DJ was sitting on a couch, glass of scotch in hand. The room was dimly lit, one lamp on to his side. Behind him floor-to-ceiling glass windows showed the mountain shadowed in moonlight. He was, she supposed, much the same man as she had seen in the photos of years earlier. Bit less hair and a bit more gut. He smiled, relaxed and at ease. Sienna felt immediately wary. Elle on the other hand kissed him on the cheek and went to the bar to organize herself a drink, waving at Sienna to sit down as she did.
Sienna felt DJ was assessing her just as much as she him. She was also checking the exit. The two heavies were on either side. This did not auger well.
“Make yourself comfortable,” said DJ, indicating the couch.
Sienna didn’t feel she had much choice. Snow wasn’t any softer than bitumen if jumping off a sixth-floor balcony. She may as well accept she was staying there until DJ decided otherwise.
“Elle tells me you fancy yourself as a PI.” DJ’s tone was benign enough, but the way he was pinning her with his eyes, missing nothing, was not.
“Actually,” said Sienna, “I’ve decided on another career change.”
“Really?”
“Yes,” said Sienna wondering what she could come up with. Professional bimbo? Ski bunny? Dom at High Towers? Sienna took a deep breath. “Conveyancing.”
DJ didn’t miss a beat. “Elle,” he said, smiling, eyes never leaving Sienna. “I think I need a private chat with your friend.” He nodded at the two goons.
Elle emerged from the kitchen, drink in hand. She pouted. “But I…”
“Out.”
Elle looked at Sienna and shrugged. “Zeus,” she said, making it sound like shit happens.
Sienna watched in horror as the two goons marched her out. The only positive was that at least they were going with her. Now it was just her and DJ.
* * * *
Steve and Connell weren’t getting much cooperation from a very cold and wet Vladimir. Even threatening to leave him at the bottom of the mountain tied to a tree where he would have certainly died wasn’t shifting his stance. He probably knew they’d never risk it. He’d never heard of Richard Crane. He worked for DJ. “Ask him.”
“We might just do that,” said Steve grimly. “But we will tell him you talked.”
Not a flicker of response from the Russian.
“We’ll say that you caved as soon as you saw the photo,” said Connell.
“What fucking photo?”
“Let’s take you to the police station and we can show it to you there,” said Connell, seeing the snowmobiles headlights coming down the mountain to collect them.
“You were at the lodge with him, asshole,” Steve said, pulling him roughly up by the neck of his sodden coat. “You and DJ. He was going to tell the council that he was rescinding the approval. You killed him on DJ’s orders. Just liked you tried to kill Sienna.”
“Fuck off. You can’t prove it.”
“But we can,” said Steve. “The photo shows you there with him that night. And we have a witness.”
“Motive and opportunity,” added Connell. “And I saw you push Sienna, so we’ll tie that in, too.”
Vladimir looked grimly ahead. But they could see he was thinking. When Tom got off the snowmobile and waved his badge, the Russian was ready to talk.
* * * *
“So,” said DJ, resting his arm over the back of the couch. “Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing messing with me?”
The words were accompanied by the same smarmy smile that for a moment Sienna thought she had misheard. The strangest thing was, she could see Elle in the shape of his eyes, the same deep brown and long lashes. But everything else about Elle was pure Janie.
“You know, Mister Jackovitch,” said Sienna, steeling her voice. “I’ve been hearing about you since you promised Elle the earth and didn’t deliver when she was aged eight. She might not have given up on you, but I have always known what a complete jerk you are. It’s only recently I worked out that you are also a lying, murdering son of a bitch as well.”
“You know I’m going to make you suffer first.” The smile now held a hint of menace as he leant forward.
Sienna stared back. Her plan to get out of this was looking shaky. Actually she had no plan, other than a vague hope that Elle’s use of their code word wasn’t entirely random. It was too early to hope Steve and Connell were back, so they were on their own.
“You really are shit company,” Sienna said, standing up. “Some other time.”
DJ didn’t move. But then he knew he didn’t have to. When Sienna opened the door, Crooked Nose was standing in the doorway. Okay, time for plan B She screamed and kicked him in the groin. As he bent over, still in the doorway, the fire alarm went off and the sprinkler system went on. As Sienna felt DJ hit her from behind, she thought warmly that Elle, bless her, had come through with plan C. They had never before had to use it, and she’d always thought it a great pity.
Chapter Twelve
Two hours later, Sienna was sitting soaked to the skin, wrapped in a blanket and trying to explain for the third time what had happened. Elle had interrupted the previous two attempts, and this time Connell had taken her off to the bar downstairs, leaving Steve to mediate and help Tom make sense of everything. Another policeman had removed DJ and the goons and headed down the mountain to the police station there, where Vladimir’s statement had already been taken.
“So when you woke up,” Tom repeated, “who was sitting on Jackovitch?”
“Elle,” said Sienna, still glowing with the memory. “She had set the fire alarm off.”
“Because?”
“She knew I was in trouble.”
Tom sighed. “Now we are about to get to Zeus, aren’t we? Which isn’t anything to do with the nightclub…”
“It is in a roundabout way,” Sienna interrupted. “I mean that’s how Elle knew the name, from her dad, when we were kids. We just adopted it as our code.”
She exchanged a glance with Steve, who winked at her.
“And he threatened you, right?”
“Yes,” said Sienna.
“Because he thought she was investigating Richard Crane’s death,” Steve continued.
“Which she wasn’t at all,” said Tom wearily, “but ended up doing so because she met up with you guys.”
Sienna grinned. “You got it!”
“Yeah,” said Tom. “Now we
just have to prove all of this.”
In the end, though the court cases would take years, it was not hard. Elle had surprised her again. Not only had she not hesitated in picking her friend over her father, she had long since picked her mother over him as well.
“Look, the guy is a jerk, I get it,” she told Sienna. “I kept hoping, and okay I admit I used him, his money, and his influence whenever I could, but Mum told me years ago about Crane and how she always suspected that George had something to do with his death.”
“So why the hell did you send me up here?” Sienna asked.
Elle had the grace to look embarrassed. “I didn’t think anyone would know you. I knew George wasn’t here.”
“Why the hell did he want you here?”
“To check these guys out, just as I said.” She gestured to Steve and Connell.
“Didn’t it occur to you that I might have needed to know I was meant to be related?”
“We’d never met and George told me that no one knew about me. I figured they’d either know you weren’t me from photos or the more innocent the better.”
Sienna rolled her eyes. She might kill her yet.
“But now that it seems the shit has hit the fan,” said Elle, “maybe you can use these?”
She pulled out an envelope and gave it to Connell.
“Your dad was the good guy,” she said. “These are the real conveyancing reports my mother told him about.”
“Where did you get them?” asked Connell.
Elle looked startled. “Dad’s office, where else?”
* * * *
“So all his kids wanted to see him in jail,” Steve mused.
A week later, sharing dinner and drinks with his brother and Sienna at High Towers, Steve was still getting his head around all that had happened.
“One reaps what one sows,” said Sienna. “He was Elle’s biological father and hadn’t wanted anything to do with her growing up and only did because Janie blackmailed him.”
