Orest Stelmach - The Boy Who Stole from the Dead

“No. Nothing’s wrong. But I need your help. It’s urgent.”

“Nothing’s wrong. And yet you’re calling me at home at five fifteen in the morning. Should I be frightened for you?”

Nadia considered her words. “No. You should be frightened for the other guys.”

“Oh. Oh, dear.”

“I need you to put your glasses on and get a pen and paper.”

“If I didn’t have my glasses on, I wouldn’t know what time it was. Hold on.” The bed creaked. A drawer opened and closed. He took a deep breath and exhaled. Not with exasperation but anxiety. Like a man preparing to take on a crucial assignment. “One of the detriments of bachelorhood is the absence of family. Did I ever tell you that? Now, how can I help you?”

“I need you to find out everything you can about something called the Zaroff Seven. It might be a private club or society of some kind. Ivan Valentin was a member, so it’s Russian, for sure. That’s all I know.”

“I’m getting up now. I have some reference books in the store that might be helpful. And my computer is there. I’ll call you back as soon as I have an answer.”

Afterward, still dressed in overalls with open wounds on her hands, Nadia called Johnny. He answered on the first ring.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Always. You got my message.”

“Incredible news. Why did the witness change his story? Did he give a reason?”

“His conscience, I guess.”

“That’s incredible news.”

“What about your end?”

Nadia told him what happened at the Priest’s Grotto.

“What can I do to help you from here?” Johnny said.

“Keep your phone on. What about Bobby?”

“He said he’d tell me everything. Which should happen today. But he wanted to see Iryna first.”

Nadia thought for a moment. “He said that? That he’d tell you the truth but he wanted to see Iryna first?”

“Our boy’s in love.”

“Yeah. But he sees her all the time. It makes you wonder. The witness recants. He’s going to tell you the truth. But he wants to see her first.”

“Why? What do you think he wanted to talk to her about?”

“What if I told you the locket did possess a formula,” Nadia said. She could hear her voice trembling. “What if I told you it wasn’t inside the main compartment. What if there’s another compartment, or it’s inscribed or something like that.”

“Where did that come from?”

Nadia told him what Karel said before he was killed. “What if Bobby figured it out at some point?”

“It’s possible.”

“I wonder if that’s what he was talking to Iryna about.”

“Why would he tell her and not you?”

“Because he’s in love. And he has trust issues. We weren’t exactly getting along perfectly. Me needing to build my business. Him needing to be a teenager. The notion he told her and not me pains me to no end. I’d rather not think about it. All I’m saying is we have two agendas now.”

Johnny didn’t answer right away. It was as though she’d lost him.

“Johnny? Two agendas?”

“What? Oh. Right. Two agendas. Yes. Bobby and the locket.”

“Call me as soon as he tells you the truth.”

Nadia took a hot shower and put bandages on the cuts on her hands. Afterward she called room service. She ordered Grandmother’s mushroom broth, Carpathian chicken kebob, and varenyky stuffed with poppy seeds for dessert. Guilt gnawed at her conscience after she placed the order—were they even feeding Marko?—but hunger and anxiety prevailed. She drank the broth, ate half the kebob, and polished the dessert plate clean.

An hour later her phone rang. Nadia couldn’t believe Obon had found her answer so quickly. When she glanced at the number calling, however, she didn’t recognize the number.

It was the woman from the Orel Group. The one who had met her with the chauffer at Boryspil Airport.

“Mr. Simeonovich would like to know if you’re available for dinner tonight,” the woman said.

“No,” Nadia said. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not in Kyiv. I’m in Lviv.”

“Lviv is a short helicopter ride for Mr. Simeonovich. He is twenty minutes away. He would be pleased to pick you up at your hotel at eight p.m. If that is convenient.”

“I’m afraid it’s not—”

“Mr. Simeonovich would like to present you with a check for your services. He also said something about a bonus. Would eight p.m. be convenient?”

The thought of enjoying a gourmet meal while Marko was being held captive didn’t whet her appetite. Still, Nadia thought, if her pursuers called she could excuse herself and leave right away. In the meantime, a client should be shown the proper respect and a girl had to eat.

“Yes,” she said. “Eight p.m. would be fine.”

NADIA’S CALL SHATTERED what little inner peace Johnny had managed to find since allowing Victor Bodnar to discover the witness’s identity. There was no doubt about Victor’s motives now. He wanted the locket. That didn’t mean he knew for certain it contained a real formula. Something might have caused him to suspect this was the case. Career criminals had instincts that way. Especially thieves.

Bobby had the locket. Bobby was in prison. The locket was in prison. To get the locket, Victor had to get Bobby out of prison. Thus the offer to help the witness remember what happened the night of the murder. Just as Johnny suspected, the old man was playing him the entire time. Help those who helped him. What a load of crap. He knew it when he heard it.

And yet he still went along with it. For obvious reasons. He wanted Bobby out, too. And as long as the witness was telling the truth—which he seemed to be—Johnny had convinced himself he was within his moral boundaries. Maybe the witness had stretched the truth a bit at Victor’s request and suggested Valentine had drawn his knife first, but that’s probably what happened. Johnny was still an ethical warrior. The underdog defending the underdog.

What a pack of lies. Once a man compromised his ethics and let a thief into his life, the criminal’s most likely course of action was to burrow deeper inside. Victor Bodnar would do anything to get that locket. And if he was motivated by leaving his daughter and grandchild some wealth before he died, he was twice as determined. He seemed like a wise old man who never resorted to violence but that too was a lie. He’d killed his cousin. He’d kill again. If it was in his best interest and there was no alternative, Victor Bodnar wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.

Not two agendas. Three agendas. Bobby, the locket, and Victor Bodnar. In that order. Persuasion, protection, negotiation. These were his forte. He had to persuade Bobby to tell the truth and the DA to release him, protect the locket, and negotiate a settlement with Victor. He had no choice but to succeed at all three objectives.

He was the one Nadia trusted the most.

THE RESTAURANT AT the Leopolis Hotel in Lviv was called Lev, which was the Ukrainian word for lion. But the predator was sitting opposite her at the table, Nadia thought. Simeon Simeonovich wore a black pinstripe suit cut in a European style to hug his athletic frame. He sat with such perfect posture Nadia found herself arching her back to make sure she didn’t slouch.

Regardless of the circumstances, a current of electricity surrounded her whenever Nadia was in his presence. Even now, with her mind on Marko. She had yet to figure out if that was a function of Simeonovich’s wealth, power, or his understated personality. But it was an interesting question, and she would have liked to explore it further. Under different circumstances.