Dark Dreams

by Michael Genelin

  “We got lucky. May I?” He took the folder from Jana. “The informant we used to locate Veza is involved in another investigation. The investigation has a telephone tap on the line where Veza is. We captured all the ingoing and outgoing calls. Not many. It was a dead line for conversation with nothing on it until Veza began using it again.” He pointed out sections of the two pages to Jana. “The calls out are to Kremenchuk, Bratislava, and Vienna. There were four incoming calls. One came from a small town in Hungary, two from Bratislava. The other one was, from all places, Kathmandu in Nepal. Everything else was outgoing. We tracked the location of the Kremenchuk calls. They go to the bar our man checked out.”

  “That means Veza is tied in, one way or the other, with the Guzaks,” Jana said. “Whether friend or enemy, still has to be answered. Have you matched the numbers with addresses?”

  “Just the Kremenchuk ones; not yet as to the other numbers. It’s hard to get information from the Austrians. They’re always arguing invasion of privacy. We’re working on it. The Bratislava numbers we figured you would help us with. There are only two of them. The Nepal call was from a hotel in Kathmandu. We haven’t got to it yet. It’s really too far away for me to worry about.”

  “I assume you recorded all the conversations?”

  Cziuba handed the folder with the numbers back to Jana.

  “Yes. On the outgoing Veza calls, he identifies himself. Then the other party, no matter where the calls are made to, hangs up. Veza curses, screams at the dead phone, calls again begging whoever it is to not hang up, but they hang up as soon as they hear his voice.”

  Alexi laughed. “Whoever they are, his people have written him off. Veza stays in his apartment all day, only going out to shop. Once he went walking toward a movie. He strolled for a few blocks, then apparently thought better of it and ran back to his apartment in a panic. What set him off, we don’t know. There was nothing there. I think he spooked himself.”

  “You said three incoming calls. That means you have recordings of what was said by the party calling in.”

  Cziuba pointed to the last page. All the calls had been picked up by an answering machine.

  “One, Kathmandu. A man. He said, ‘This is Solti. Tell me why I’m not seeing anyone.’ Two was from a small Hungarian town. Whoever it was didn’t leave a message. Three, two calls from Bratislava. One from a woman. She told him she loved him, then hung up. She said her name was Andreea.”

  Jana checked the numbers in Bratislava. One of them she immediately identified; the other one was familiar but just out of reach of her memory.

  “I think I know who made one of these calls: I’ve met his girlfriend in Bratislava.” She checked the date of the first phone call, thinking the woman might have warned him, but it had been made a week before Jana had confronted her in her apartment. Too early for her to tell the boyfriend that the Slovak police were looking for him. “I know the other number, but the file in my head isn’t opening yet. I’ll follow up on it when I’m back in Bratislava.” She checked on the number of the call to Hungary. She recognized the town it had been made from. It was where the Hungarian smuggler had been cut to pieces.

  More and more connections. The outlines of events were becoming faintly visible.

  “Are we ready to go now?” Alexi asked Cziuba.

  “Any time,” Cziuba responded.

  Alexi looked at Jana. “Ready to go talk to Veza?”

  “That’s why I came.”

  “We’ll get you a vest in case there are any stray bullets to deal with. Anything else?”

  “I couldn’t bring my sidearm.”

  Alexi pulled an automatic in a waist-clip holster from the bottom drawer of his desk, sliding it over to her.

  “Just so you don’t feel naked. Don’t fire it unless you absolutely have to. I don’t want to answer questions as to why I gave you a gun. And don’t shoot yourself in the foot.”

  “I promise not to shoot myself in the foot.”

  Jana had one last query. “What was the investigation about that made your people put a tap on the phone?”

  “A botched bank robbery.”

  Cziuba shook his head in incredulity. “These people never learn. One criminal thug leads us to the other. The man who let Veza use his couch is Veza’s cousin. His name is Omelchenko. We’ve held off arresting him because there were some other locals involved. We thought Omelchenko might lead us to them. He hasn’t. But he led us to Veza. Now that his cousin Veza has come to visit, we can arrest them both.”

  “Omelchenko is a murderer,” Alexi added. “Two people were killed in the bank robbery. Which is the reason I gave you the gun.” His voice took on a mock-serious note. “You don’t mind going along while we also do some Ukrainian business?”

  “It’s all part of the same business.”

  Both men nodded.

  All of them understood: They were professionals.

  Chapter 28

  They drove to Svyatoshyn, the area where Veza had taken refuge, parking around the corner from the block of buildings where he was hiding. Seconds after their arrival two truckloads of Special Response Group police, bulked up with battle gear, squealed to a stop. The SRG team piled out and trotted to predesignated positions. The main group headed directly to the target’s address. Jana noted with satisfaction that they appeared to be well trained, single-mindedly going about their tasks.

  Jana and the two Ukrainian officers she’d come with dogtrotted behind the main body of SRG cops, watching them again break up into small teams as they reached the building. The flat they wanted was on the top floor of the six-story apartment house and, within minutes, elements of the assault unit were on the sixth floor of the building, signaling from a window that their people were in place.

  Cziuba led the way into the structure, Jana and Bilyk following. Cziuba nodded at the two police officers who had secured the entry hall, and went to the elevator. Another police officer was inside it, at the control panel; he held the door for them, then punched the button for six. The car slowly ascended.

  “This is your last opportunity to wait for us downstairs,” Cziuba remarked.

  “The elevator is already going up,” Jana pointed out.

  “Would you have taken my suggestion if I’d asked you before the doors closed?”

  “No.”

  “So, what’s the difference? The difference is this: if you now get killed, I can write in my report that I gave you the choice, you chose to go into danger, and I will have satisfied everyone who reviews the record. They’ll know I tried to keep you safe.”

  “Brilliant foresight. I’m pleased that you did your best to keep me safe.”

  The door to the elevator door opened. They drew their guns as they got out. The SRG team had taken up positions in the corridor, having already knocked on most of the doors, removing the occupants from their apartments and taking them down the stairs. They were clearing the line of fire, protecting the residents from stray bullets.

  “It might have been easier and safer to just kick in the door,” Jana pointed out. “The sounds of people moving around will have alerted them.”

  “There was no choice. At least one of them inside is a shooter.” He pointed to the metal door of an apartment they passed. “Their door is metal, too. Lots of people have metal doors now in Kiev; harder for thieves to break in.”

  “Thieves who are afraid of other thieves. I like that thought.”

  They reached the apartment door. A sapper was taping explosives around the frame, getting ready to blow it.

  “Very efficient.”

  “It comes with experience.”

  “Are we sure that the two men we want are inside?”

  “Surveillance confirms that they haven’t come out.”

  “Are you just going to blow it without talking to them?”

  “We blow the door, the entry team throws a pair of stun and flash grenades inside, and then we rush them.”

  “Since they probably know we’
re here, and there’s no element of surprise, it won’t hurt to talk to them first.”

  “They’re armed. My guess is that they won’t want to surrender.”

  “You used the word ‘guess.’ Let’s take that out of the equation and reason with them.”

  Cziuba looked over to Bilyk, who nodded his approval, then handed Jana his cell phone. Jana had Veza’s number from the telephone tap and punched it in. It was answered immediately.

  The voice on the phone was so excited and disturbed that what he gabbled into the phone was unintelligible.

  “Veza. Volam sa Jana Matinova.” It calmed people down when you formally introduced yourself. Jana waited for a response. There was none. “Talk to me. Speak to me in Slovak, Veza.”

  Veza spoke again, quickly but articulately. “I am not afraid. Killing me won’t be easy. We have weapons. Stay out!”

  “Veza, we’re the police. Why would we want to kill you? Listen, I’ve come all the way from Slovakia to talk. So let’s talk.”

  “Don’t fool with me. I know who you’re from.”

  “Who am I from, Veza?” There was silence on the phone. “I’m not from the ones trying to murder you. I’m trying to find them; you’re trying to get away from them. That’s a perfect reason for us to cooperate. If we cooperate, we can each get what we need: we’ll protect you; then you’ll tell us about them, and we’ll make sure they we get them before they get you. What do you think of this offer?”

  There was another long silence.

  “Veza, if you want, I’ll come into the apartment alone so we can meet and talk things out. You have a gun. I’ll leave my gun outside. How’s that?”

  The phone in the apartment was mute, except for the muffled voices Jana could hear arguing, an argument that went on for minutes before Veza finally came back on the phone.

  “You can’t come in.”

  “Your cousin doesn’t want me inside, right?”

  “ . . . Yes.”

  “Tell him to get on the phone.”

  His hand came back over the phone, with another muffled argument taking place. Veza came back on. “He doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  “Tell him that you’re both dead men if he does not get on the phone.”

  The muffled argument that ensued was much louder and sharper. The cousin finally took the phone.

  “Fuck you,” were the first two words out of his mouth. “Fuck your mother,” were the next three, all of them screamed into the phone. Jana waited, hoping the man would calm down. After a long silence, she began again, introducing herself, then asked his name.

  “None of your business. Get off the phone and go to hell.”

  “I presume I am now talking to Mr. Omelchenko. Just listen to me, dear cousin of Veza. I think Cousin Veza is now my friend. If you listen to me like Cousin Veza did, you too may become my friend. Even better, you may still be alive at the end of the day.”

  Jana could hear Omelchenko’s heavy breathing. At least he had stayed on the line.

  “Here is what’s going to happen if you don’t do as I suggest. There are a dozen police officers on this floor. There are a dozen more in various places in the building. If you refuse to let them in, they’ve set explosive charges on the door and they will blow it open. It’s possible that the charges are so large that they may blow you out into the street below. That would kill both of you.” Jana waited, listening again. Omelchenko’s breathing was louder. “When they blow the door, they won’t wait for you to shoot at them. They’ll toss in grenades. These aren’t generally lethal grenades, although you could be killed by some of the small shrapnel particles.

  “Our special operations group may choose to come in at that time. Needless to say, if you shoot at them they’ll fire back at you with their assault weapons, probably killing both you and Veza immediately. If you’re only wounded, they may take you into custody and you might survive if you get the correct medical treatment.”

  Jana waited for a moment to let all the implications of what she had said to sink in.

  “A few more things to consider while you’re deciding what you should do.” The heavy breathing on the phone was now erratic. “If you’re alive to shoot it out with the police, the police may simply roll a real grenade inside the room after they gain access. That will only leave pieces of you. Police don’t arrest pieces of a person, so you’ll save yourself from being arrested. If you shoot it out, and the police shoot their way in, which they eventually will, and if any of their comrades have been wounded in the fight, they’ll assuredly take no prisoners. Either they will simply kill you on the spot, or maybe they’ll just shoot you in the belly and watch you die slowly, in agony. But, either way, you die.”

  Omelchenko finally got a few words out. “Who are you?”

  “I gave you my name.”

  “Can you speak for the police?”

  “Who do you think I’m speaking for?”

  “You guarantee my safety?” He was panting with fear. “I need your word.”

  “Cousin Omelchenko, I’ll even guarantee your cousin’s safety.”

  “I want to talk to Veza about this.”

  “Fine. Now I’ll hang up.”

  “Why are you hanging up?” There was genuine fright in the man’s voice. “I may want to talk more.”

  “No more conversation. In the next two minutes you knock loudly on the inside of the door to let us know you’re coming out. You wait thirty seconds, then open the door and come out with your hands on your head. You walk to the opposite wall of the corridor and stand facing the wall. We’ll then handcuff you and take you safely to jail. Of course, if we see you with a gun or any other weapon, we’ll shoot you dead.” She paused, letting the tension build. “Oh, I forgot something. There are snipers in the building across the street. I hope they don’t shoot you before you come out.”

  Jana hung up.

  Within two minutes they heard banging from inside the door. Thirty seconds later the two men were in custody. Cziuba and Bilyk were only slightly disappointed that they had not been required to shoot their way into the apartment.

  When they got back to the police building, Alexi had already been informed. When he saw Jana, he kissed her on both cheeks.

  The only one who seemed annoyed was Veza. He now had second thoughts about talking to Jana. He didn’t want to talk to Cziuba or Bilyk, adamant that he didn’t want to talk to any police. He wanted to be put in a cell and left alone.

  Alexi had Cziuba take Veza to an interrogation room despite his protests. As Cziuba left, he winked at Jana before closing the door behind them.

  Jana sat across from Veza at the small table in the middle of the interrogation area, simply looking at the man. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. Andreea, Veza’s girlfriend, was right: Veza was a coward. So was his cousin. Maybe it ran in the family.

  Within five minutes, Veza was chattering, telling her everything he knew. It was not much information, but it was vital.

  The next morning Jana flew back to Slovakia.

  The trip had been worth it.

  She couldn’t wait to get back to Bratislava. She didn’t even mind the aerobatics the pilots put the plane through.

  Chapter 29

  When the plane landed in Bratislava, Trokan was waiting. He would not have come to pick her up if it had not been important to see her immediately. His grim face told Jana he had bad news. She had her own car in the parking lot, but one of her aides would pick it up later. It was obviously imperative that she go with Trokan now. Aside from saying hello, Trokan and Jana did not exchange a word until they’d left the pickup zone.

  “A fruitful trip?”

  “I have more evidence to work with now.”

  “I’m happy we didn’t waste the country’s money.” He braked to avoid a car that darted in front of them from an intersection. “An old person. Driving that way because he’s night-blind.”

  “Just careless.”

  “I was wondering if you’ve been careless. Per
haps ‘thoughtless’ is a better word.”

  “Rotten traits in a police officer.”

  “Unhealthy qualities.” He put the brakes on again; the car that had pulled ahead of them had slowed, then swerved off onto a side road. “That man is careless and thoughtless enough to get other people hurt.”

  “I drive carefully.” Jana decided to stop being oblique. It was getting on her nerves. “Let’s get to it: am I in trouble?”

  “Your house is a mess. They searched it. I checked before I came by for you. You’ll have a hell of job cleaning it up.”

  Jana’s heart sank. She’d forgotten Trokan’s warning. Jana felt the small lump the diamond made in her brassiere to reassure herself that it was still there.

  “They also searched your office, and your adjutant’s.”

  “I thought Seges was working with them.”

  “He is. They wanted to make it look good for him. He played his part afterward, loudly stating that he could not understand what had raised their suspicions about you, and therefore, him.”

  “I would appreciate your letting me ship him somewhere.”

  “Nobody wants him.” He groaned. “I talked to Captain Bohumil. He wouldn’t tell me what they found, or what they were looking for. Under the circumstances, I couldn’t press for the information. I’m reasonably certain they took nothing from your office. You’ll have to determine if they took anything from your home.”

  “There was nothing to take.”

  “Bohumil wanted to pick you up at the airport. I dissuaded him by agreeing to bring you to him as soon as you landed.”

  “We’re going to headquarters? I just got back from a long flight.”

  “He’s interrogating other people. He doesn’t want you to talk to them before he talks to you.”

  “Not so stupid.”

  “He’s a decent investigator.”

  They rolled into the city proper and were approaching the main police building. Trokan pulled the car to the side of the road next to a small park.

  “I have a sudden need to relieve my bladder. If you feel the need to relieve yourself at this time of whatever it is you have to relieve yourself of, I suggest you do so as well. I’ll be gone for a very brief time.”