“Like the Guzak killing. Body shots, then the shot to the head to make sure.” Jana forced herself to concentrate on the essentials of the case. “We have to compare the ballistics in both cases. Why were the two victims together?”
Bohumil stirred uneasily. He wanted to go in another direction. “There are questions that we need you to respond to before we get into the specifics of this case.”
“All of these cases are tied together. They have to be discussed and investigated as a whole.”
“After you answer our questions,” Bohumil insisted.
Trokan shot Jana a warning look, telling her to follow Bohumil’s direction. He threw in a question just to give her a moment to reflect, and to calm her down. “You know why we didn’t call you to the scene?”
“I’d like to know your reasoning.”
“How would it look later? You are a possible suspect in an ongoing investigation; you are a possible suspect now.”
Jana nodded. The decision not to summon her to the murder scene was also protection for her. No one could now be accused of ignoring a possible conflict of interest, nor of a cover-up. In a country like Slovakia, with so much distrust of officials, there was a need to be cautious.
“Ask me what you need to know.”
“You saw Marta Hrdlicka today,” Bohumil began. “Tell us everything that was said or done during your meeting.”
For the first time, Jana realized that the papers on Bohumil’s desk were the materials she had given Marta for him. Their asking her to relate what she and Marta had talked about meant that Marta had left the office before Bohumil’s return. Marta had not had the opportunity to explain the import of the documents.
Jana related the substance of the meeting; Bohumil and Peter examined the contents of the papers as she spoke. There were a few questions. When they had been answered, Trokan nodded approvingly at her.
“Very nice. You pulled things together for both investigations.” There was satisfaction in his voice.
“The commander called me after she had given the papers to Marta,” Bohumil reminded him. “She should have given them to me directly.”
“A small point, Captain,” Trokan reminded him. “Commander Matinova has handed you a significant piece of evidence that advances your investigation.” He waited, expecting Bohumil to thank Jana. He did not. Trokan’s voice become harsher. “You can voice appropriate gratitude when you’re ready.”
A captain always listens to a colonel.
“You have done well, Commander,” Bohumil finally said.
“Thank you.” She smiled inwardly. Trokan was still her friend.
Jana thought about the phone call she had made to the captain, instinct telling her to hold off giving the real reason for the call. “I was calling to ask you if you wanted a personal briefing by me, rather than by Marta. You were out, and I thought Marta or you would call me if you had any questions, so I didn’t pursue it.”
Bohumil resumed his questioning. “Do you know why Officer Hrdlicka left the unit to meet with the Red Devil? She left word that she was meeting her, but told no one why. When I came back to the office, she had already left.”
“You checked the phone log?”
He nodded. “She received a call just before she went. She was described as ‘excited’ after she got the call.”
“The conversation was recorded?”
“It came in on her cell phone. So, no record.”
Trokan followed up. “We checked with Covic’s receptionist. She said that Covic rushed out, telling her that she was leaving for a meeting. It was an appointment that had not been entered on Covic’s calendar; therefore, we conclude it had been made on the spur of the moment. They met a short time after that, and both were killed almost immediately.”
“Witnesses?”
“One. She saw a fleeing man from the rear. She described him as very tall, in fact so tall that he would be considered a giant. Not a particularly reliable witness.” A smile finally appeared on his face. “All shooters look bigger to witnesses. I’ve never met an eyewitness who didn’t have problems with their memory of events.”
Jana tried to settle any lingering doubts Bohumil might have about her being the murderer in this case.
“What time were they shot?”
Peter gave the times of death.
Jana turned back to Bohumil.
“I was in my office then. Check with our people.”
Trokan nodded. “We did. They confirmed it.”
Bohumil finally managed to articulate his last lingering doubt about Jana. “You could have had an accomplice. The Guzak killings were carried out by two people.”
“If I were going to kill, I’d never use an accomplice, Captain. They’re always around later to testify against you.” She got up. “Unless you have further questions, I have work. May I go?”
Bohumil nodded. “One more thing: when you have the police reports, I’d appreciate your sharing them with me.”
She walked out.
Jana didn’t return to her office. She couldn’t have worked there even if her career had depended upon it. Instead, she drove to the location where these latest deaths had occurred.
When she arrived, media representatives were still prowling about, taking photographs, stopping everyone who passed by, trying to get quotable comments. The wind was whipping up, the clouds deepening, a harbinger of the next storm moving in. Cold enough for snow tonight, Jana estimated. But if it held off until the morning, it would be too warm for snow. Just more sleet or freezing rain.
There were still two police officers at the spot where the shootings had occurred; a small area where the bodies had been found was still taped off. Jana walked over to the tape. One of the officers recognized her and saluted. As soon as the press people saw the salute, they began trotting over, hoping to get an additional angle for a story, a statement from Jana, anything that would spice up their reportage.
Jana slipped under the tape, using her pen flashlight to look at the bloodstains. She ignored the reporters, who continued to hurl questions at her. She stood looking down at the chalk outlines. It was easy to identify where each had fallen. The Red Devil’s outline was much smaller than Marta’s. Jana felt like she should be in church praying for both of them, though she was not religious. She wondered if either of the two dead women had been. It would not have helped them.
One of the television crews turned its lights on Jana, catching a picture of her with her head bent over the blood stains. Jana shaded her eyes from the lights, then walked back to the tape, ducked under it, and left the death circle. The television crew kept filming, the reporter thrusting his microphone under her nose.
“Were they friends?” He pushed the microphone even closer. Jana pushed it away; the reporter thrust it back again. “We don’t want to lose your comments.”
She pushed the microphone away again and walked back to her car. The television team finally dropped away.
Jana felt a sense of loss.
It would have been nice to have had Marta as a friend.
Chapter 35
Jana drove home, wanting to sort out her emotions, only to find a man sitting in the dark on her front step. In the dim light, she could not see his face or recognize him from his body configuration. She decided that precautions were called for and eased her gun from its holster before she left the car.
He had been resting his head on his knees. When he heard her approach, he stood, giving her a wide smile. Jana felt relief course through her. It was Vilem, Peter’s cousin, the man from the spa whom they had laughingly renamed Groucho. In fact, the only name that Jana remembered at that moment was Groucho. She put her gun away.
“It’s so good to see you, even though you nearly shot me,” Groucho said.
“I couldn’t make you out. You might have been the tax man, or a dark mountain spirit.”
They hugged each other, and Jana invited him into the house. She bustled around making coffee for both of them, ap
ologizing for not having anything to eat with it, at the same time wishing he would get on with the reason that he had come to her house. Groucho had to be a messenger from Peter.
Jana eventually asked why he had come to see her.
For the moment, Groucho lost his smile. He held up a finger across his lips for silence.
“I have to speak very softly,” he whispered, moving even closer so he could talk directly in her ear. “Peter called me. He had to use a public phone. He thinks they may be listening on his line.”
“Who is listening?” she muttered back, wondering why they were whispering in her living room.
“He said it wasn’t the government. He would know if it were the police or his office, or someone else in the bureaus. He found out by accident. There was a buzz on his land line, and the company sent a man to fix it. The technician found the illegal connection. Then Peter brought people from his department to go over his house, and they found listening devices. He wanted you to know so you could check here.”
“In my house?” Jana whispered back.
Jana couldn’t quite believe that anyone would eavesdrop on her phone calls or install listening devices in her home. She couldn’t help looking around her walls, wondering what was behind the pictures now, or in the cupboards, under the chairs, or in the lighting fixtures. Abruptly, Jana was uncomfortable in her own home. She didn’t like the feeling.
“Did he tell you who’s behind it?”
“They haven’t found out who’s responsible. They left the listening devices alone. They’re hoping they can track the transmissions. If so, it’ll take another day or two. They’re not sure if that will work. That’s why he called me for help. He said you would trust ‘Groucho.’” He looked discomfited by his sudden thrust into significance. “He also gave me another message for you.” Groucho gave her a sly, knowing look.
Jana felt her hopes rise and her breathing quicken. Suddenly, she was self-conscious about this response.
“About Peter and me?”
“He said to tell you that he loved you.” Groucho paused, thinking. “He told me to get this exactly right. He said, ‘Without you he’s lost; with you he’s been found. He wants to stay found.’”
Jana felt elation build inside her. He still cared for her, cared for her enough to send this elaborate message through his cousin. The nonspoken message was also evident. He couldn’t personally contact her; he couldn’t tell her more. But he wanted their relationship to continue. Jana couldn’t contain herself. She grabbed Groucho, pulling him close in a hug, kissing his cheeks over and over again in thanks. When she finally let him go, Groucho was abashed, but glowing with pleasure.
“Thank you, Groucho.” She kissed him once more, this time a quick peck. “You’re a man who’s brought lovely news back into my life: he still cares for me.”
“Any message for me to take to him?” There was an eager stutter to his question. “He would like that.”
She thought about what she should say. It had to be short, it had to be intense. “Tell him I understand.” She shook her head. “No; it’s simpler this way. Just tell him I love him.” Jana felt relieved she could get the words out. They were too important to hesitate over. “Yes, just that: I love him, I love him, I love him.”
“Three times?”
“Ten times.”
“Ten times it is.” He stood. “I have to go. There’s a drive ahead of me.” Jana followed Groucho to the door.
“Come back to Piešt’any,” he urged. “The spa is waiting. We always like lovers.”
Groucho walked out. Jana closed the door behind him, then leaned against it.
The relationship she needed was restored.
Almost.
Despite the incredibly good news that Peter still loved her, there was also the information about the electronic eavesdropping. It was hard to comprehend, particularly in relation to her house, her private sanctuary, her refuge from the rest of the world. Jana could not accept the idea of her private life being laid out for strangers to paw over. If the listening devices were embedded in her walls, they were embedded in her life. That meant that her conversation with Sofia had been heard and might be used against both of them. Jana would have to guard herself more closely, guard her guests and everyone else who passed through her front door. As long as she was being scrutinized this way, the house would not be hers. Speaking in whispers was not compatible with the comfort and joy of living in your home.
Jana went to the radio and turned on a music station. A piece by Mozart was being played. She listened for a moment, then felt her gorge rising. She could not even enjoy music alone. There was a presence in the house, an alien presence, an extraterrestrial that had come from some ugly universe and invaded her soul.
Jana had to know if they were there or not.
She turned the radio’s volume up to cover any noise she might make and began to search the living room, methodically, starting with her couch, then each piece in the room, thoroughly examining every one. She found nothing. She then went back and scrutinized the lamps and their sockets, then the telephone. An hour later, after examining and reexamining, she had found nothing. If anyone were going to “bug” her house, they would have planted one in the room where everyone sat, relaxed, and talked freely.
Jana told herself she should feel better. She went into the bedroom and changed clothes, putting on a comfortable old pair of jeans, then tried to straighten up the house, thinking about what had happened to Marta and the Red Devil, wishing she already had the scene investigation reports.
Jana’s train of thoughts kept being interrupted. She could not rid herself of the creepy feeling that there were listening devices that she had not found. Giving in to her impulse, she went back into the living room to view the room from a different angle. She needed a different perspective. She stood on a chair, looking down from the top of the room to the floor. Jana saw it right away, the only object she had not checked.
The rug.
A wool area rug lay below the small coffee table in front of the couch. Jana stepped off the chair, removed the coffee table, then turned the rug over. There were no visible devices. She felt along the border where the fringe protruded from the body of the rug. She had it!
A hard wire ran through the border, the wire connecting to both sides of the rug. At the tip of the wire, again on both sides, there were small flat pieces where the wire was inserted, pieces the size of a very small fingernail. They were embedded in the rug itself, impossible to see and almost impossible to find. Tucked under the coffee table, no one would ever suspect that every word they spoke was being listened to and recorded.
Jana put the rug back in place, taking her cue from what Groucho had told her: Peter and his people had left their bugs alone. Jana had found out what she needed to know. There would be listening devices in the other rooms. The telephone must also be tapped. Jana’s guess was that it was being intercepted from outside the house, probably where the main line connected to her home. She couldn’t go out and check. If the people who had installed the tap were watching, they’d know that she’d found out about their invasion of her home.
The system they had in place, whoever they were, was a sophisticated one. There were two feeds, plus the wire attachment acting as an antenna, which would pick up everything said in the room. There was one drawback to this type of listening device: the limited distance from which the signal could be picked up. That meant their receiving equipment had to be close by. It could be in a parked vehicle, perhaps in a house on the block. She decided to walk through the neighborhood to see if she could spot anything out of the ordinary. She put on a jacket, then stepped outside, ready to begin her walk, when she saw Mrs. Milanova standing just outside her door. As soon as the woman saw Jana, she darted back into her house.
There was no need now for Jana to go on a tour of the neighborhood. She knew where the recordings of her conversations were being made. The woman had suddenly become aggressive, no longer afraid
of Jana, not trying to hide any of her anger. Why? She thought Jana was going to be brought down. They had persuaded the woman to shelter the receiving equipment in her house, and she was now relishing the prospect of avenging herself on Jana.
None of Jana’s neighbors, people she had known since she was a child, would allow anyone to harm her. Except Mrs. Milanova.
Jana now had a possible course of action.
The people who were recording her life would have to come back to get the recordings. If someone was here, in Jana’s house, waiting, he could follow them and identify them and their boss. But, with all the convoluted twists this investigation had taken, with the killings that had occurred today, and with the information that had just come from Peter, who could Jana trust to keep watch?
She had to make a careful choice. She had seen the place where Marta had died today. Jana felt at least partially responsible for the death of one officer. She didn’t want to be responsible for another.
Chapter 36
Trokan gave Jana permission to speak to Sila Covic’s receptionist. They had completed their murder scene investigation and interviewed her already, so there was no reason to refuse Jana. However, he did add one onerous proviso: he told her to take Seges along. Captain Bohumil would appreciate their allowing his “spy” to accompany her. There was no point in arguing, so Jana brought an uncharacteristically agreeable Seges along to parliament.
They met Zuzana Vachanova in the lobby. The legislators and their aides all nodded to Vachanova as they passed, some offering condolences on the death of her boss. All of them, except for the briefest of token glances, avoided looking at either Jana or Seges, aware that they were police investigating Sila Covic’s death.
“She was well liked,” Vachanova explained. “There has been an outpouring of grief at her passing.”
Jana knew better. Covic had been very competent at what she did, but her acerbic nature was one that would never engender sorrow at her passing. Seges made noises of commiseration, which Zuzana seemed to appreciate. Jana inwardly thanked the powers-that-be that Seges had said the right thing for once.
Dark Dreams Page 21
