Dan Fesperman - Lie in the Dark

They reached a large office with CHIEF OF SPECIAL POLICE on the door. So, he had already moved in, Vlado thought, scanning the walls and desk for signs of Vitas as he settled into a chair. He was mildly angry to find none. He’d hoped to be the first to search Vitas’s office, but it was obvious he’d been beaten to the punch.

Kasic slid behind Vitas’s old desk, glancing about him for a moment as if still getting his bearings, then leaned forward, clasping his hands before him on a stack of notes. His voice emerged in the deep fullness of a command, although his words were welcoming.

“Now then, Vlado. It is good to see you’re on the case. I have done some checking and found you a thorough man and a solid investigator, although I must admit your lack of experience gives me pause. Less than two years as a detective before the war began, and four years total, correct?”

Vlado nodded.

“And I gather you haven’t been too busy since the beginning of the war. At least not with this sort of case.”

“Correct.”

“I also gather that your boss, Mr. Garovic, while helpful, was not very eager to turn you loose you on this. He is, I take it, a somewhat careful man.”

Vlado allowed himself a brief smile. “That’s putting it mildly,” he said.

“Well, I can understand his hesitance. A sensitive matter, this one. And by all rights this should be our case. If it weren’t for some special considerations, we’d be handling it, and handling it professionally and well, I have no doubt.”

“Special considerations?”

“The U.N. On some days we can’t even take a piss around here anymore without three of them asking if they can come along. We feel we have to prove ourselves every day, then file a report on it in triplicate. If I had my way I’d just as soon tell them to mind their own business- it’s not as if they’re running the tightest ship themselves. I can’t tell you how many times we could have cracked down on the French or the Egyptians, brokering whores and cigarettes, or peddling U.N. passes to smuggle people out of the country at three thousand marks a pop. And we all know they’ve been licking the boots of the other side throughout the war.

“But for all that, we, or, that is, people far above me, feel that we can turn the corner with them with the right kind of results in this department. And if we turn the corner with them, then maybe we can turn the corner on getting the right kind of help for fighting this war. Bigger guns, antitank weapons-you’ve heard the laundry list before, and it’s not going to be filled anytime soon as long as the arms embargo’s still in effect. But in some quarters, at least, there is momentum.”

Kasic paused to light a cigarette, pulling a Marlboro from a pack on his desk. Was this going to be a lecture on the war or would they ever discuss Vitas?

“Which is where this little investigation comes in,” Kasic said, as if reading Vlado’s mind. “Every time they catch the slightest whiff of something dirty blowing from our way, anything to do with corruption, racketeering, profiteering on our side of the fence, it becomes another piece of ammunition for keeping the embargo in place. It’s an easy enough sell: ‘If the Bosnians can’t even clean up after themselves, why should we help them make an even bigger mess.’ We thought we’d proved our point with the raids in October, but the U.N. isn’t buying it. Too many loose ends left behind, they say. And they didn’t like the way Vitas brought in a few ‘undesirables’ toward the end to help us along. Made all our positive results tainted, they said. We only set up a few has-beens to be the new lords. Still, too much funny money floating around and too many funny ways of earning it, they said. And there’s some truth to it. You look at the markets for gasoline, cigarettes, meat, coffee, whatever you want to pick, and it’s still in the hands of people just beyond our reach. And I suppose it goes without saying, but I’ll say it anyway None of this conversation is to go beyond these walls. Clear enough?”

“Clear enough.”

Kasic flicked his cigarette at an ashtray.

“But anyone with eyes can see that the problems are still with us. Even if it’s not as obvious as before. Too many people are still profiting from the status quo.”

Kasic then leaned forward across the desk, lowering his head, his eyes narrowing in concentration, like a big, sleek dog poking into the burrow of a far smaller animal.

“And frankly, Vlado, although it pains me greatly to say it, Vitas may have been among those who was profiting. At least that’s how it looks from what little we’ve already learned. When we first heard Vitas had been murdered we thought what everyone must have. He made a lot of very powerful enemies in October, and one of them must have retaliated. But now it looks like it may be more complicated, and a lot messier. And as soon as we saw where this was going we called you in. No sense in having the U.N. believe the foxes are trying to guard the henhouse on this one.”

Vlado started to interrupt with a question, because now he had plenty. But Kasic was rolling.

“Besides, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said, pointing the cigarette at Vlado’s chest. “Enough to know that you’re a good man for this sort of thing. Blunt. Not afraid to step on toes even when it might not be good for you. Probably the very things that scare the daylights out of Garovic, but it’s what we need on this one, although I don’t suppose you’ve had a case quite like this one yet, have you?”

“No sir. Not exactly.”

“And it’s not as if you’ve been getting much of a chance for them since we’ve gone into business. Yes, I know, we’ve also stolen most of the resources, too. And if Imamovic were still alive he’d have never have allowed this to happen without one hell of a fight. But, frankly, Vlado, and this is not to denigrate your talents or any of your people, our people here are used to dealing with this particular underworld. They’ve come to know all its little streets and alleys, especially since October, even if we don’t have them all quite under control yet. And we do undeniably have the best resources for doing this kind of work.

“Which brings me to my next point. Please, Vlado, use our expertise when you can. Staying independent doesn’t mean staying in the dark. Keep me in the dark, yes, fine, as much as you like. But our technical staff is yours for the asking. And I know we have a better lab than your man Grebo’s. The same is true of our files. Open to you. Within reason of course, because if your thinking is that you don’t really know or trust us yet, the feeling is necessarily mutual at this point.”

Vlado nodded, then decided it was an opportune moment to interrupt. “As long as we’re discussing possible assistance, I’d like to be able to bring Damir Begovic in on the case with me. He’s with my department, I trust him, and we work well together.”

Kasic frowned, as if he’d just eaten something disagreeable. Then he sighed, releasing a long, pained breath from his nostrils.

“Probably not the partner I’d choose for you if the choice was up to me. But …”

As he paused, Vlado wondered if the meeting was being taped, if perhaps Kasic would replay the whole thing later for some international observer, just to prove he’d been on his best behavior. Whatever the reason, Vlado momentarily got the answer he’d been hoping for.

“Very well, then. Use Begovic as you need him. But sparingly. Keep the major work for yourself. The fewer who have access to your findings, the better. And if you’re feeling overwhelmed in tracking people down, or even in getting the information you need, there is, as I said, help that we might be able to offer. I don’t know what your interrogation skills are like, but should you happen to hit any brick walls with anyone, we have some of the oldest hands in the city in dealing with that sort of thing.” Vlado knew what that meant, most likely. Big fellows sitting around in brightly lit rooms, sipping coffee while they broke kneecaps and hooked up the electrodes.