by G. K. Parks
The intercom beeped. “Lucien, Mr. Almeada’s on line one.”
I grabbed the handset. “Hello?”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Almeada asked.
“This is an emergency.”
“It better be. Tell me you aren’t under arrest.”
“Not yet. I have to ask you about the club you took me to. How long have you been a member?”
“I’m not. Not really. I’ve been there a couple of times. It’s quiet.”
“Sure.” I snorted. “Who told you about it?”
“What is this about?”
“Answer the question.”
“Lucien, what happened?”
I bit my lip. Almeada had been my attorney for years. He’d started out working contracts for me, but when I’d gotten into that scrape with my previous boss and the assault charges, he’d handled it, just like he’d handled the settlement negotiation involving the fatal shooting of Sgt. Scott Renwin. I could trust him. If I couldn’t, I’d already be dead. “May we speak in hypotheticals?”
“I’m your lawyer. This conversation is privileged. You know that.”
“Hypothetically,” I ignored his declaration, “a man goes to a club, meets a beautiful woman, and takes her into the private back room to get to know her better.”
“I’ve heard this story before. Guy gets too rough, and the girl ends up dead. What does that have to do with you?”
“Different story, same ending. You left out the twist. The girl worked for a gangster, who killed her to emphasize his point. And then he shot her four more times with the other man’s gun.”
“Your gun,” Almeada surmised. So much for hypotheticals. “This happened inside Club Nova?”
“An hour ago.”
“Shit.”
“Does Vasili Petrov own the club?”
“I don’t think so. I don’t know. I never looked into it. I had no reason.”
“What do I do now?”
“You realize I’m a lawyer, not a fixer, right?”
“Then bill me twice, or find someone who can deal with this. You’re the reason I was even there in the first place.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry. Do the police know?”
I peered into the outer office, but Justin hadn’t notified me of any radio chatter. “Not yet.”
“Where’s her body?”
“I don’t know. Probably still in the back room.”
“And your gun?”
“Here, along with my clothing.”
“Any physical evidence placing you at the scene?”
“Plenty.”
“How about your DNA on her body?”
“Things didn’t progress that far.”
“All right. I can work with that. Fingerprints, fibers, we can explain those away. Bullets, not so much. Hopefully, the ME can determine which shot proved fatal. Ballistics will identify two guns, indicative of two shooters. It won’t exactly clear you, but it should take murder off the table. The DA would have a hell of a time getting a conviction under those conditions, but they might still try. Your history works against you.”
“I know.” I sipped the bourbon, my focus divided between the conversation and the information on the screen. “How do I proceed?”
Almeada weighed his words carefully. “As an officer of the court, I feel an obligation to tell you to trust in the law. You should report this to the police, turn everything over, and explain the situation. Things are likely to resolve in your favor.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“You could go to your father. Tell him what happened and let him handle it.”
“No.”
“Christ, Lucien, he’s the police commissioner. Let him help you.”
“Help me? He’d be first in line to arrest me. What’s option three?”
“Life isn’t always multiple choice, my friend.”
“Find me a third option. That’s why I’m paying you.”
He mulled over the facts. Finally, he said, “The Russians wouldn’t want the attention either. We’re talking about the ones who operate out of Brighton Beach, right? Little Odessa? They have their own clean-up crew, or so I hear. Are you sure the cops will even find her body?”
“Maybe not. It depends on how willing I am to cooperate. Vasili has a gun to my head. I have to find a way to remove the bullets.”
“We are talking in metaphors, right?”
“Yes.”
“All right. Good.” He exhaled. “Are you sure you have your gun? Maybe it was stolen.”
“Maybe.” I knew what I had to do, but at this point, it was probably too little, too late.
“That changes things. Make sure you report it missing first thing in the morning. The less evidence hanging around, the better off you’ll be. An alibi might also come in handy in case her body surfaces, but it has to be airtight. Lies, if discovered, will only make you look guiltier. Are you sure the Russians will move her out of the club?”
“I’m not sure of anything. I don’t even know how they got inside. I have to figure out if there’s video footage and what it shows. After that, I’ll figure out how to proceed.” An image of Svetlana flashed behind my eyes. “I should have realized she was a prostitute, but she didn’t dress the part. And she certainly didn’t approach me in typical fashion. Vasili must have coached her, planted her, and killed her.”
“Do you think your other recent run-ins with pros was his doing?”
“Possibly.” I thought back to the SUV I thought had been tailing me. What if there had been two? Foster and someone else, someone more sinister? “I don’t know anything right now.”
“Focus on damage control. We’ll deal with the rest as it comes,” Almeada promised.
But I couldn’t do that. I had to be proactive. Waiting would get me killed or arrested. Vasili wanted his shipment back. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I didn’t think he was referencing a bunch of stolen DVDs and laptops. He wanted the drugs and guns returned to him, and if I couldn’t get them, all hell would break loose. The only problem was I had no idea what he’d do once he had what he wanted.
“Lucien, are you still there?”
“The police won’t find her body unless Vasili tells them where to look. I should be in the clear as long as I give him what he wants.”
“That sounds like wishful thinking.” Almeada hesitated. “What does he want?”
“It’s best if you don’t know.”
“Isn’t it a little late for that?”
“Regardless, I won’t be able to get him what he wants if I’m under arrest, so the police won’t find her body. Not right away. He’ll have to move her. But in case I’m wrong, I need you to hold on to a package for me for a few days. Let’s call it an insurance policy.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Neither do I, but you introduced me to the club. You owe me.”
“Fine. I know I can’t talk you out of this, so I’ll save my breath. Send the package to the office, just make sure it’s sealed and contains explicit instructions. Label it for my eyes only. The last thing either of us needs is a legal assistant opening it. Then we’re both screwed. I don’t want my license revoked because of this shit you’ve gotten involved in with the Russians.”
“Thanks.”
“And Lucien, try not to get yourself killed. I can’t afford to lose your retainer and all the billable hours.”
I snickered. “I’m glad my life means so much to you.”
“Seriously, I am sorry.”
“Save it.” I sighed. “But for the record, so am I.”
After disconnecting, I stuffed my clothing and gun into a large bubble mailer, wrote detailed instructions and a personal account of what happened, and brought the package out to Justin’s desk. “Have the courier deliver this to Mr. Almeada. Make sure you use our regular guy. I don’t trust anyone else.”
“No problem, boss.”
“Where are we on fig
uring out the club’s security system?”
“Surveillance footage is stored on the cloud. We should be able to access it remotely, but I haven’t had any luck getting past the firewall.”
“Let me do it.” Even though I wasn’t a hacker, I had been a computer science major and a decent programmer before shifting my knowledge of the tech industry into making money on Wall Street. That was before everything went to hell and I turned to private security. Oddly enough, that’s when I made friends with a few elite hackers and picked up a couple of useful tricks. But I couldn’t get anyone else involved in this when the ramifications could prove fatal. “Remind me we need to get a computer expert on the payroll sooner rather than later.”
“Have you thought about taking your checkbook into the FBI training facility and offering an entire class of recruits a job in the private sector?” Justin asked.
“I have. But by then, it’s already too late. They’re brainwashed. Indoctrinated with all those oaths, rules, and regulations. I can’t work with people like that. I don’t want idealists. I want realists. Life isn’t black and white. It’s messy, just like this situation.”
I held my breath, waiting for the cursor to stop spinning. Bingo. I was in. Quickly, I scanned the database for the footage from an hour ago. Clicking on a video file, I watched the events play out on the screen. The club’s back room didn’t have cameras. But the main areas did. Plenty of footage had been captured of me with Svetlana, including our disappearance into the private room and my reemergence a few minutes later covered in her blood.
“Lucien, what happened in there?”
“You don’t want to know.”
I backed up the footage, scanning the front door and main areas of the club for signs of Vasili or his enforcers. At certain points, the footage blacked out. Obviously, he had gotten to the cameras first and deleted anything damning.
The back hallway, which the waitstaff used to enter and leave the private rooms, didn’t have any security cameras posted. I couldn’t prove anything. Vasili had covered his tracks and painted me as the only possible suspect in Svetlana’s murder.
“Come on you bastard, where are you?” I checked the current feed but saw nothing but a blank screen. Vasili must have deactivated the cameras. He had to in order to move her body to the service exit and conceal his involvement. “Are the video files saved on the premises?”
“I don’t believe so,” Justin said. “Everything goes straight to the cloud.”
If I had more time, I’d do a full workup on Svetlana, if that was even her real name, and run backgrounds on every one of Club Nova’s employees. But I didn’t have that kind of time. That would have to wait until later. Right now, I had to run interference or damage control as Almeada put it. Forcing the warning voice in my head to quiet, I pressed delete, replacing one fear with another. “You didn’t see that.”
“No, sir.”
One problem solved. Plenty more to go. “Get started on a business profile for Club Nova. I want to know everything about it, the owner, and every single person who’s ever stepped foot inside.”
“How?”
“Find a way.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“Thanks.”
Closing myself in my office, I called the members of the security detail who hadn’t been assigned to guard Miranda. At this point, I only trusted the original hires. Everyone else would have to be reevaluated if I was still alive and walking around free. But that wasn’t a priority. Having teams guard Justin and Gloria were.
Twenty-eight
“When did you first notice it was missing?” the cop asked.
“I don’t know. It’s not something I pay attention to.”
He looked up from the computer screen. “Your best guess.” From his tone, I knew he didn’t approve of my answer. Admittedly, it was a terrible answer, but it was better to appear incompetent and reckless rather than guilty.
“Um…I know I had it last week.”
He gave me a look. “Where was it?”
“In the glove box of my car.”
“Do you keep your car locked?”
I shrugged.
“Does anyone else have access to your vehicle?” he asked.
“No.”
“Did you notice signs of a break-in?”
I sighed, as if these questions were nothing more than an irritation. I was a busy man who had a busy day ahead. “Maybe. I noticed one of my windows was rolled down, but I didn’t think much of it at the time. Now, I’m not so sure.”
“All right.” He hit print. “I need you to sign this.”
Grabbing a pen from the cup on the counter, I signed the report, alleging the facts presented were true to the best of my knowledge. If Vasili called in the tip or Svetlana’s body surfaced, the lie would be the least of my problems. “Anything else?”
“Yeah.” He gave me his hardened cop stare. “You have two other weapons registered to you. Keep an eye on them.”
“Absolutely, Officer.”
He scowled at me. “We’ll let you know if we find it, but if I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath. If we do find it, the circumstances won’t be pleasant.”
“Got it.” I took my copy of the report, stuffed it in my pocket, and headed for the door.
Before I made it out of the precinct, Sara turned a corner in her freshly pressed sergeant’s uniform. She’d just arrived for her shift, early as usual. “Lucien, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“Fine.”
“Are you sure?” She took a step closer and peered into my eyes. “You don’t look like you’ve slept.”
I shrugged noncommittally.
“Are you here to see Officer Gallo? I don’t know if he’s working. He could be getting off or coming on. Hang on.” She called to a rookie to find Gallo before I could even answer her question.
“I spoke to him last week. I don’t need to see him again.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” A thought came to mind. “What happened to all the evidence that got collected?”
“Oh, your client wants to know when he’ll get his stuff back. Most of the boxes are being held in the evidence locker. Everything’s been catalogued, but since it’s an open case, well, you know how it works.”
“Gallo mentioned contraband—drugs, guns, other nasty stuff. Any idea who it might belong to?”
“No one’s looking at Mr. Knox as the owner. Tell him not to worry.”
“Okay, I will.” That didn’t answer my question, but if I asked too many questions, Sara would get suspicious. And I didn’t want that. “I’m on my way to see him now. I’ll be sure to tell him the good news.” I gave her a quick hug. “Take care.”
She gave me an odd look. “Get some sleep.”
“No rest for the wicked.” I continued past her, glad to get out of there before Gallo appeared. At least now I knew the evidence had been processed. That meant it was downtown in the off-site storage facility. That tidbit was crucial if I planned to meet Vasili’s demands. I just wasn’t sure breaking into a secure police facility and stealing evidence was the best way to deal with this situation. Unfortunately, it might be the only way.
I had to figure out a better plan. Any plan. At this point, I was open to suggestions, except there weren’t many people I could ask.
Once inside my car, I took a fresh burner phone out of the packaging, plugged the charger into the outlet, and called Freddy G. He didn’t answer, but Freddy didn’t exactly do mornings. The only reason he’d be awake now was if he hadn’t gone to bed. Usually, he’d answer if he thought the call was from a client. However, he wouldn’t know this number, so he wouldn’t bother picking up.
I sent him a text, Answer your phone, waited ten seconds, and called again. He still didn’t pick up. If I wasn’t on a time crunch, I would have paid him a visit, but I had to prioritize. As far as I knew, Freddy didn’t cater to crime bosses. He stayed away from the questionable crowd as much as possib
le, so I didn’t think Vasili had found me because of Freddy. Everything linked back to Trey Knox, or so I suspected.
Putting the car in gear, I headed for Knox’s neighborhood. It was early enough that I could catch him before he went to work. Today, I wasn’t putting up with his petulance, accusations, and hollow threats. He was going to tell me who he owed and why men had broken into his house and stolen his stuff, or else he’d have a very bad day. Not as bad as mine, but close. I’d make sure of it.
The gated community was difficult to enter without the proper credentials or standing invitation, and I didn’t feel like trying to pay off the guards again. So I parked on a nearby street and found a coffee cart. Caffeine would keep me going, especially now that some of the shock and fear from last night had worn off.
While I waited in line, I turned to stare back at the gate. Knox would probably drive right past me. I couldn’t let that happen, so I called him.
“I’m a block from your place. Meet me for breakfast,” I said.
“I don’t have time, Lucien.”
“Make time. This is important. I have valuable information about your collection and getting the rest of it back. There’s a coffee cart set up right near your neighborhood. It’s a short walk. It won’t take more than a couple of minutes.”
“Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can, but I only have a few minutes.”
Tucking the phone into my pocket, I ordered a cup of dark roast and paced the sidewalk beside the gate. The steam rose from the top of my cup, and I blew on it before taking a sip. The air was crisp. In a few hours, the sun would burn away the early morning haze, leaving a clear sky and nothing but the brutal cold.
I shifted from one leg to the other, wiggling my toes to regain feeling in them. Had I planned better, I would have grabbed my wool overcoat and thermal socks. Vasili really knew how to inconvenience a guy.
Come on, I thought, I haven’t got all day. I resisted the urge to check the time. No more than five minutes had passed since the last time I looked. Where was Knox? At this rate, the man would be late for work. Well, later, since I had every intention of detaining him until he answered a few important questions to my satisfaction.
