The dark-haired bitch was leading the way from his house, talking to the red-haired one. First they had deceived him in the car park. Humiliated him in front of Anton and Janko. Caused him to be exiled from his own family. Now these women had been in his house without his permission. He felt violated, invaded, degraded. No man should ever allow a woman to do that. But they had done it to him.
They were walking in his direction. Auntie Dragon was talking and gesturing normally, calmly, explaining and teaching. Teaching deceit and seduction. Teaching how to trick and tease and get inside a man’s defenses. The rage started building inside again, stronger than before. As strong as anything he had ever felt.
There was only one answer for it. He would do something about the shame. He would do something about the humiliation. He would revenge himself on them, and he didn’t give a damn what Uncle Anton thought. He’d clean it up later.
Nilo turned and motioned to Bosko to join him. He pointed them out, whispering, “That’s them. Those are the ones we’ll have. We’ll have some fun with them. You’re with me, right?”
Bosko watched the women. He bit his lip. “Man, that’s some serious shit you’re thinking about. They’re police, aren’t they? I dunno.”
The women turned the corner without looking up, as if they were on an afternoon stroll down the pavement of their neighborhood.
Nilo motioned again and they returned to the car. “Maybe we’ll have a little practice first. To rehearse it, you know? It will be sweet.”
He looked at Bosko, who sat silently, gazing through the windscreen. It was clear to him that Bosko had lost it and wasn’t to be trusted if it got dicey. Nilo needed to make him say that. “You’re with me, right?”
Bosko took a deep breath and exhaled through his nose. He reversed the car into a space and rolled slowly down the drive. At the end of the drive, he turned left. “Look, Nilo. We’re cousins. I’ll let you stay at my place. I’ll feed you. I’ll run errands if you need me to. Take you where you need to go. But I’m not in for anything rough with either of those coppers. I came here to work. To get something better than that shithole of a village. I’m not spending the rest of my life in prison. It’s not what I had in mind.”
“So you’re not with me.”
“Not all the way, no.”
Scummy little bastard. Not all the way, no. What the hell is that? He wanted to reach over and wring his fucking neck. What the fuck good is he? He felt the gun in his waistband, pressing against the small of his back. Two blocks to the next stoplight. He’d slide his hand behind his back, pull it out, and pop one in the fuck’s earhole. He looked behind. A car about a block back, but no one right on their tail. There wasn’t much traffic right now. He’d squeeze it off and be out and down the street in five seconds. The shitty little car would sit there idling until some poor loser walked over and took a look. By that time, he’d be gone.
Here it comes. A block. Half a block. Slowing down. Nilo slid his hand behind his back and felt the grip of the FN. He ticked off the safety with his thumb and scanned the street. Stopping. Wait. Bosko slid the gearshift into neutral.
A bright-blue BMW crossed the intersection in front of them. Wouldn’t you know it? It looked like the Hope copper was driving. The flash of red hair in the passenger window confirmed it for him.
“There they are . . . follow them. See them? Don’t lose them.” He clicked the safety back on, scratched his lower back, and adjusted his jacket. Maybe some other time.
Bosko snicked the car into gear and turned to follow the BMW. “What are we going to do? Are you going to shoot them?”
“No, no. That might be fun, but not maximum fun. We’ll follow them for now. I want to see where they go.”
“Right. It’s getting dark, though.”
“I’ll watch them. You do what I say. Do you know how to tail someone?”
Bosko snorted. “I’m not an idiot. Goran taught me as soon as I was able to drive.” He settled behind the steering wheel, turning with Nilo’s instructions. A few minutes later, he cleared his throat.
“Nilo. I’ve been thinking. You know, I’ll do what I said I’d do. You’re family. I won’t stand in your way, and I won’t grass you up. You know that. I’ve wanted to take a holiday for some time. Last week, Janko told me I’d earned time off. So here’s what I’ll do. I’ll book a holiday. I know I can find something in the next couple of days. Maybe Majorca or the Canaries. Someplace warm and sunny. You can stay at my flat. Use my motor. Do what you need to do. What do you say to that?”
Nilo considered. He might not have to top the little shite if he could be useful for a couple of days, then be out of the way when the heavy lifting started. Plus, there would be a place to stay. It actually wasn’t bad for his plan. He needed time to reconnoiter and prepare. He’d call Goran, and it would take a couple of days to set it all up. They’d stay at the flat and have a place for the fun. Goran would enjoy that.
So he wouldn’t have to kill Bosko. Not now, anyway.
He smiled broadly. “That sounds like an excellent plan to me. I like it.” He reached out and clipped Bosko on the shoulder. Bosko was smiling as broadly as he was, so he turned his attention back to the blue BMW.
* * *
Jenkins kept his eyes glued to the red Fiesta a half block ahead. He’d had years to hone the skill of tailing another car while avoiding collisions. He slowed, coasting so that he wouldn’t run right up on the target’s tail at the stoplight. The light changed, and he waited until it was ready to change again, then he zipped through and continued the tail, keeping his distance. It looked like the two boys were headed back to Bosko’s flat.
Jenkins had identified Bosko early on and had quickly tagged him as the office gofer. The boy was no one to pay much attention to, but Jenkins had tailed him a few times while he was out running errands to get a feel for his daily rhythms and find out where he lived. He’d never seen him with Nilo, though. Nilo was another story, and at this moment, it was Nilo he was interested in.
Technically, Nilo was a distraction. But the kid had all the earmarks of a loose cannon—a budding psychopath. He sowed mayhem wherever he went, and mayhem could screw things up royally or it could create opportunities. You never knew, so you had to be ready either way it went down.
He had missed them when they left Nilo’s house. One watcher can’t watch everyone all day long, and he had other jobs to do. On a hunch, he had driven to the younger boy’s flat. Sure enough, they had arrived there a few minutes later, looking worse for wear. He wondered what they had been up to.
The red car had been there in the morning and then after lunch. He picked them up again in the evening and followed them on the route back to Nilo’s house. It had gotten good. Very good. Hope had arrested Greene, and the next thing you know, she calls an armed assault on the house. That wasn’t going to sit well with the cousins, was it? Greene had better be happy he was in custody. With his binoculars, Jenkins had seen Nilo crouched behind the hedge and had watched him watching Hope and Lovely Liz. The rage on the kid’s face was evident even from a distance. He chuckled. What happens when you push an unstable, violent kid too far? He would bet a tenner they were about to find out.
Hope and Liz. Elaine had unknowingly helped him, although he would probably never get the chance to thank her. She was a real danger to his goals, though it was still possible that they could both get what they wanted. Liz needed experience. She knew enough to get herself into trouble. He was sure he could teach her a thing or two, but he’d probably never get the chance with her either.
Where the hell were these two kids going? They were headed east. Bosko’s flat was north. Something was up. A few minutes later, the red Fiesta slowed as a car in front of it turned. A blue BMW. No shit. They were following Hope. The Fiesta drove past the turn and pulled to the curb a hundred feet down. Why were they stopping? Something had gotten their interest. He slowed to a crawl and looked as he passed the street. In the dimming light, he saw two figures
getting out of a car. Hope and the ever lovelier Liz.
They were walking to the door of a rundown house. He cackled and accelerated past them, past Nilo and Bosko in the Fiesta. A hundred yards up the street, he turned around and headed back, pulling to the curb.
The women were in the house for only five minutes. Then the double tail began again, tracing back across town. The BMW stopped at a block of flats, where Liz got out and walked to the door. Jenkins noted the address and continued to follow as Elaine headed back toward the nick. He didn’t want to break off yet. It might get exciting.
But it didn’t get exciting. The red Fiesta with Bosko and Nilo inside drove past when Elaine entered the underground car park, and then it headed back in the direction of Bosko’s flat. Jenkins decided to leave it for tonight. He needed to think. He thought about the story that had gone around the canteen at the station, how Liz had chatted up Nilo and they had gotten his DNA and a photo. Elaine had apparently been there too. How else had she gotten the “Auntie Dragon” moniker he had heard about? Nilo had something in his head about Elaine, or Liz, or both.
These eastern gangsters could be touchy. Nilo was planning something unpleasant. Well, it was none of his business. He had other things to think about, and it was all coming together. It had been an eventful day, and it was time to stand down. A bottle of Rioja was calling his name, and he didn’t want to keep it waiting.
THIRTY-THREE
Elaine looked at Jacko across her desk. It had been a frustrating day. Tomorrow she would no doubt be called to explain herself to Cranwell, Hughes, the assistant commissioner, and whoever else was lining up to thrash her about budgets and waste of resources. She hadn’t looked, but she was sure the line had begun to stretch around the block.
She was getting tired of Jacko. She had no stomach for listening to him try to wear her down, and she was having trouble concentrating. But a decision had to be made.
The prosecutor pressed on. “Right now, the only thing we can show cause to charge him with is brothel keeping. No matter what your suspicions are, that’s all we have.”
“And you want us to release him on police bail. I suspect him of being involved in at least one serious assault and possibly two murders. Not to mention a whole raft of devious financial schemes that likely fall under the Proceeds of Crime Act. The trafficking and prostitution unit want to talk with him. Other groups in Specialist Crimes are showing some interest. I need to be able to pressure him, Jacko.” It was a bluff, but not a huge one. She had planned to call a briefing with the other groups who would be interested, but she hadn’t gotten around to it.
Jacko persisted. “Look. It’s not like he’s violent. He’s hardly likely to pose a threat to anyone. You may be the senior investigating officer, but you need to show a level of fairness in this.”
What the hell did he mean by that? She studied his face. He usually didn’t push an SIO this hard. Especially when he wanted into her knickers, which he would let her know, again, soon enough. All the more reason to keep up her guard.
“Fairness? We’re not on a cricket pitch here. Besides, he might be in danger himself, from his clients. There’s no telling what they’ll do if we release him.”
“Really? And what proof do you have beyond vague hunches that he’s involved in any type of organized crime?”
“You didn’t sit across a desk from those clients and study their faces. You wouldn’t say that if you had. So what’s up? You usually take your lead from the senior officer. Why is this one different?”
Jacko’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not. I don’t think you have cause to deny bail. If you do, his lawyer made it clear to me that he would appeal.”
Elaine looked out her window. She could refuse and sweat more information out of Greene, but she thought it likely that he truly didn’t know where Nilo was at this point. And when the lawyer appealed, she’d have to appear in court and make the case to a magistrate, who would probably see no difference between this and other cases he had granted bail to. She believed in picking her battles, and this wasn’t one she’d choose. Greene could be handled even if he wasn’t in custody. She needed to devote all her effort to finding Nilo.
She shook her head. “All right. But I don’t like it. I want a condition that he report here every day.”
Jacko gave her a triumphant smile. She figured what was coming next, and he didn’t surprise her. He stood, slicked his hair back with both hands, adjusted his jacket, and shot his cuffs. His tone was utterly smug.
“I can make that work. How about dinner? You’ve had a long day.”
What a preening jackass. She looked up and gave a perfunctory smile. “No, thanks. I’ve got some things to do.”
He leaned over the desk. “I’m sure my to-do list is much more fun. I’ve got steaks and a nice Montepulciano at home. I know how to cook too. Looks to me like you need to unwind.”
Where was a garrote when a girl needed one? “I said no, Jacko. Not going to happen.”
“Call me if you change your mind.” He straightened up and walked out the door.
Elaine didn’t answer. He had drained her reserves, and now she was distracted, wondering why she wasn’t curled up at home with Scratch on her lap and a glass of something or other in her hand. Whatever was in the wine rack.
She waited two minutes to make sure Jacko was truly gone, then left for home.
* * *
Anton sat on a wooden kitchen chair in Bosko’s sitting room. He had expected them both to be here, but the flat was empty when he and Goran had arrived, so he had decided to wait. Goran was watching the parking area. The boys would show up sooner or later. Meanwhile, Anton had three problems to mull over.
The first was Greene. He would be bailed out soon enough. Greene’s solicitor would report what was said during the police interview, and Goran would arrange the rest.
What to do with Bosko was a straightforward decision. He had been insulated from most of the family’s operations, and he was neither valuable nor a danger to their plans. Eliminating him would attract attention and complicate family relations. Sending him home was probably the best course of action. It would certainly cost less in time and resources. He would separate Bosko from Nilo and give him a good scare. His reaction would confirm which course Anton should take.
But what to do with Nilo? The boy was impossible to control unless he was watched around the clock by someone he feared. There was really no choice but to eliminate him. A shootout with armed police would be ideal. Marko could say nothing; even if he suspected Anton was the cause of Nilo’s death, he would most likely understand. This was family business, after all.
Anton’s mobile chirped. He swiped the green button on the screen and placed it to his ear. It was Goran telling him the boys had pulled into sight.
He closed his eyes and focused his mind. Two minutes later, he heard the door open and footsteps approaching up the flat’s short entry corridor. When he opened his eyes, the two boys were standing in front of him. Goran handed him Nilo’s gun, then moved to block the door.
Bosko was visibly shaking. He looked at Anton with huge, frightened eyes, then turned his head away.
Anton studied them both for a moment. Bosko was certainly better off as an errand runner and messenger. He then focused on Nilo. “Things are not going well for you. Your reckless activities are causing quite a lot of problems for your elders. You have attracted the attention of the Metropolitan Police. According to news I have received, they raided your house today.” He paused. “On top of that, they arrested Greene for brothel keeping and have been questioning him most of the day.”
He saw Nilo’s jaw drop. Nilo was responsible for running the brothels.
“Those are very upsetting developments for all of us. Certainly for the two of you, but also me, Janko, and Marko. I had to ask myself what to do about all this. Before I can decide, I need information. I want to know what you have been doing and what your plans are. Nilo, please go outside with Goran. I want t
o talk with Bosko first.”
Nilo opened his mouth to protest but stopped. He turned and walked outside with Goran behind him. As soon as Anton heard the door close, he spoke softly to Bosko.
“Now tell me what you have been doing the last couple of days.”
“I . . . I . . . ,” Bosko stammered. He was still shaking and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It took him a few tries before he could begin. Once he started talking, the words flowed fast. He told how Nilo had asked him over for some fun with a whore and how Nilo had turned ugly. How they had dumped the girl’s body and had then come to the flat and stayed until the beer and booze was gone. He spilled everything, right up to the moment they had seen Goran standing on the pavement outside the flat. By the time he had gotten to that point, tears had started to well in his eyes. He put his face in his hands.
Anton continued to speak softly. “Thank you, Bosko. Tell me. What are your plans?”
Bosko took another deep breath. “Janko told me I could have some holiday time. I want to go somewhere, maybe someplace warm, maybe back home. I told Nilo that I wanted to get away from this. Uncle Anton, I didn’t expect it to be like this. I thought I would be working for Janko. And then I thought Nilo and I were just going to have some fun, you know? Then he hit that girl over and over and she died and we had to dump her body. And then we went back to his house and coppers were crawling all over it. Those two women coppers were there, and Nilo said he wants to top them, but I told him I won’t help him with that and I want to leave. So that’s what I want to do. Just go somewhere and not be here. Uncle Anton, I just . . .”
Anton held up his hand to stop him. Bosko would do as he was told. There was no reason to eliminate him. When Anton spoke, his voice was quiet and reassuring. “I think it best that you not go anywhere but home. I will arrange it with your parents. You will not return to the UK. Ever. That will be satisfactory for me, and it should be for you as well. Tell me if you agree.”
Souls of Men Page 22
