David Duffy - In for a Ruble

“Shit.”

I dialed Leitz’s number. No answer.

Victoria said, “What’s wrong? You look like you just saw that guy, Nosferatu.”

“I did. I gotta get back to Leitz’s. Konychev’s headed there—or Nosferatu is.”

“You sure?”

“Board lock.”

“Wait! If you’re right, it’s dangerous. Let my people handle it.”

“No time.”

“Nine-one-one. Cops can be there in minutes.”

I was halfway to the door.

“Konychev’s after the kids and the computers. He thinks Leitz knows where Andras is, and he’s the link to Irina. So yes, call nine-one-one. I can use the help.”

“Turbo, please! Don’t go. I’m scared.”

She had tears in her eyes to prove it. I came back and took her hands in mine.

“You’re right back where you didn’t want to be. I’m sorry. But neither of us is going to think much of me tomorrow if I stay here.”

“Okay, I’ll go with you.”

Before I could respond, she said, “I know. Bad idea. Dammit.”

“I’ll be back before your dragons can get warmed up. Promise,” I said.

She looked deep into my eyes before she swallowed and nodded. I took that for permission and kissed her.

“Make that call to the cops.”

It was snowing hard when I reached the street, already an inch or more on the ground. I ran, cursing myself for giving Konychev and Nosferatu too much time.

Leitz’s door was ajar. No one leaves a door open in New York. Nothing to do but keep going, even if someone was on the other side.

I kicked the door wide and backed away in case the someone had a gun.

Nobody fired. I peeked around the frame. The entrance hall looked just like it had ninety minutes before. Plus blood.

A wet trail across the stone floor. I stepped in and listened. Not a sound, but I could feel people in the house. I followed the trail to an open door at the back. It led down a hall to an enormous kitchen. The Filipina maid lay next to the center island, her dress and apron soaked in red. No pulse from her neck.

I grabbed a kitchen knife, found a back staircase and climbed as quickly as I dared. The staircase bisected a narrow hallway on the second floor before it climbed another flight. A large, airy office to my right. Jenny Leitz sat with her back to me, wearing black, bent over a desk, her head turned to one side. I stifled a cry and put my hand to her neck. I knew the answer before I felt the cooling skin. With luck she’d never heard him coming. I took my hand away and made a promise—he’d know I was there, right before he followed her out of this world.

Anger stomping caution, I ran the corridor to the front of the house. I came out at the center hall staircase. Cold air cut through my clothes. The drawing room was untouched but one French door banged in the wind. I leaned out in time to see a long overcoat turn right up Madison, worn by a tall man with a pulled-forward face.

I took the stairs two at a time, caution forgotten now, and barreled through the Rothko chamber. Leitz slumped behind his desk at an awkward angle.

“LEITZ!”

No answer.

He was fastened to his chair with a hundred yards of duct tape. The sleeves of his cashmere sweater were shredded from elbow to wrist, long red slashes ran down his forearms. The carpet was soaked in blood. I slapped his face. No response. I cut the tape. The arms fell away and kept running red.

I don’t know much about bleeding. I called 911 and held his arms above his head, hoping somehow he’d bleed to death more slowly, or maybe the ambulance would arrive in time. I fought to hold down lunch as my shoes squished in the red-soaked rug.

Movement from Leitz. He opened his eyes, ever so slowly, as if the effort was almost more than he could manage. Probably was. He struggled to focus. I think he recognized me because he tried to speak.

“Rest easy,” I said. “Help’s on the way.”

The lips fought to work themselves around a word.

“Just hold on,” I said.

“An… Andras?”

“He’s okay. I still have him. Don’t worry.”

“Tha… That’s who…”

“That’s who they were after, right? Is that what you mean?”

I think he nodded before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Victoria said the cops would get there quickly. She was wrong. But the ambulance was fast, and a second one arrived a minute after the first. I heard the EMS guys shouting downstairs. I yelled, and a man and a woman rushed in and took over. I found the other team and took them to Jenny’s office in the back and the kitchen below.

I went through the rest of the house, still carrying the kitchen knife, but found nothing. While I searched, I called Victoria to tell her I was okay, then Foos.

“What should I say to Andras?” he asked.

“He’s going to blame himself, and he won’t be all wrong this time. But don’t spare the details. He’s got to face up to some ugly realities, one of which is Irina’s been playing him like a well-stocked hand. Tell him another thing—she’s out of cards now. She’s a dead woman unless he wants to try to save her.”

I made the Super 8 just before 3:00. Four inches of snow on the ground, gusty wind whipping the blanket of flakes in the air. The radio promised five inches more. “Local accumulations could be higher,” the announcer added for good measure. Traffic moved at the pace of a cold snail. I was feeling the lack of sleep, but adrenalin was keeping exhaustion at bay, at least for the moment. I told it to keep pumping.

“How’s my dad?” Andras was in my face as soon as I opened the door. His eyes were red, his face full of fear and worry.

“I don’t know—that’s the truth,” I said. “They were taking him to the hospital. He was still hanging on and I’m sure the docs will do the best they can.”

“Which hospital? I’ve got to get there.”

“I understand how you feel, but no go. The one thing your dad was able to ask was about your safety. I told him you were okay. We’re going to keep it that way.”

“Turbo’s right,” Foos said. “Nothing you could do. We got other things to worry about. Tell him what you told me.”

He looked from Foos to me and back again. He had to be struggling with a hundred conflicting emotions.

“Let’s sit down,” I said.

I took the corner of the bed, and he sat on the desk chair.

“You can’t change what’s happened,” I said with a gentleness I hardly felt. “You can change what’s going to happen. That’s what your dad would want you to do. Think about that before you answer the questions I’m going to ask.”

He looked away.

“PAY ATTENTION, MAN!”

I’m not sure I’d ever heard Foos yell before. Andras jumped like a cornered fox.

“It’s Irina, isn’t it? She got you to hack into ConnectPay, right?”

“NO!” he shouted. The force of his own voice took him aback.

“Okay,” I said. “She didn’t. I believe you. Tell me what happened.”

“I hacked ConnectPay. That was my idea. But…”

I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I looked at Foos, who nodded.

“It was Irina’s idea to steal the money?”

I took the absence of protest as assent.

“And again in November?”

He dipped his head slightly.

“She got you to place the worm that corrupted the BEC’s data?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“And when you found Uncle Walter in his office, you called her? She said, ‘Take the servers’?”

“Yes.”

I could have asked, what was he thinking? His uncle was dead, he’d stolen eight million dollars from organized crime. Did he really think he could just go back to Gibbet School and pretend nothing had happened? No point—he hadn’t thought. He hadn’t thought at all. He’d just done as she told him. Maybe it was youth and naïveté, maybe it was first love or blind love, maybe it was just plain stupidity. Two kids, each for their own reasons, had taken down one of the Internet’s top criminal enterprises. In some eyes, they might have been heroes, but in the ones that counted now, they were just targets to be eliminated, the sooner, the better.