Dan Fesperman - Lie in the Dark

“So I think you can take these men at their word, at least on the big picture. Which might be all you’ll get from them anyway. Don’t expect much detail. For one thing, it’s never been their strength. They’re informers, not trained investigators. For another, they can’t help but have some fear of whoever’s still calling the shots. Killing someone of the rank of an Esmir Vitas tends to have a very bad effect on people’s memories. But they’re a start, which now is all I have to offer.”

“Even assuming they’re telling the truth,” Vlado said, “is there anyone that high up left in the rackets, anyone still powerful enough to order this murder? In meat, cigarettes and whiskey, I mean. It’s hardly the top of the line. Not like gasoline. Or human beings, for that matter.”

Vlado could imagine Grebo cringing through his last remark. Doubtless he’d just betrayed some egregious hole of ignorance on the workings of the black market.

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you,” Kasic answered. “Maybe Vitas thought in his own odd way that he was being ethical by not dealing in the greatest areas of desperation, fuel and freedom. Meat’s a luxury, and perishable at that. It’s not like you can hoard it as currency. But, cigarettes, let’s face it, they’re the closest thing some people have to hard currency It’s how we pay our soldiers, or police. Ever since October we’ve sensed a certain desperation settling into all these markets as supplies have tightened. And if you’re already feeling the squeeze and then suddenly the chief of the Interior Ministry’s police elbows into your field, well, you can see how someone might see that as a matter of life or death, no matter how powerful Vitas was. But your point is well taken. Our side of the river wouldn’t seem to have too many people left with enough clout to order this sort of thing.”

“Then you think the order could have come from across the river. From the Serbs.”

“It’s a possibility.”

“Meaning that even if we can identify who gave the order, we may not be able to do anything about it.”

“Like I said. A possibility.” He stubbed out another Marlboro. “And not a happy one. But it would at least be enough to satisfy the U.N., especially coming from someone outside our department. It might even serve our purpose better. Put more of the blame on the opposite bank of the Miljacka and maybe they’ll see our arguments a little more clearly But this brings me to the most disturbing element of what we know of Vitas. It concerns his possible contacts with the other side.

“Vitas grew up in Grbavica, you know,” Kasic said. “In fact, you knew him as a boy, didn’t you? Although I believe you were better friends with his younger brother.”

Vlado was impressed, wondering how Kasic could have dug up that item on such short notice. Surely Garovic hadn’t known. Yet, this was such a small town in so many ways, growing smaller by the day Fast work nonetheless.

“We went to the same school,” Vlado said. “But he was eight years ahead of me. And yes, I knew his younger brother well. He was a classmate. Killed just about a year ago.”

“Yes, a mortar shell through the roof. I remember. His whole family. Which left Vitas quite alone, I suppose. His mother was a Serb, you know. His father was a Muslim, although he would have nothing to do with those labels. He was a Yugoslav first and only, he used to say. One can only wonder what he’d be saying now.”

“You knew his father?”

“Somewhat. I met him a few years ago, just before his death. Not long after that his mother died as well.”

“So you think Vitas still had contacts in his old neighborhood.” Vlado asked. “And if he did, is that so unusual?”

“Not as such. It happens even now. People manage to get news back and forth, along with the gasoline and coffee. Sometimes even the phone connections pop back up for a while. It drives the army crazy when it happens, but there you are. I myself still know people over there. My paternal grandfather was a Serb, though my father and I were both raised as Muslims.”

Meaning, in reality, that he was probably raised neither as Serb nor Muslim nor anything else in particular until it came time to choose sides once the war began. Like nearly everyone else in the city, Kasic had probably thought of himself mostly as a Sarajevan, as set apart from those narrow-thinking rurals of whatever background. So, Kasic had thrown in his lot with the bunch that had pledged to preserve Sarajevo as it was, which happened to be the Muslim government of the new nation of Bosnia. So far he was backing the loser in the war, although neither that nor the Serb flavoring in his background seemed to be hurting his career advancement.

“My house was in Ilizda, you know,” Kasic said.

“I didn’t, actually.” It was a suburb now held by the Serbs.

“Yes, and a nice house, too. Big and comfortable. Probably some army commander garrisoned there now, propping his boots on my coffee table while his dog curls up on my bed.”

For a moment Kasic’s face had a faraway look, as if he’d looked across the office floor and spotted the booted general lounging at one of the desks.

“But with Vitas,” Kasic resumed, “I fear he may have had some channels open that were, at best, improper.”

“And at worst?”

“The conduits for illegal activity. Smuggling. Which, if it’s true, amounts to little more than providing aid and comfort to the enemy, not to mention considerable profit. The very people he used to rail against so convincingly had perhaps even become his paymasters. This is not for me to say conclusively, of course. That’s for you to discover in your investigation. I only want you to be aware of what is being said.”

“And where does this impression come from?”

“The same place as our other information,” he said, handing over the thin files. “From these four gentleman. You’ll find the butcher at Markale Market any day of the week. The cigarette man is on shift at the cigarette factory for another …”-he paused to check his watch, a massive model favored by the old Yugoslav People’s Army-“for another two and a half hours. So you can catch him there today if you like. The same is true of the two whiskey connections. Their addresses are noted in the file, and all four are expecting a visit.”

He paused, as if about to conclude, then said, “And now, whenever you’re ready, you can question me.”

Vlado was caught off guard. He shifted gears rapidly, wondering if he was being tested. He wasn’t ready to question Kasic just yet, and he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself trying. He needed to shift control of the conversation.

“Later would be better, actually. But I’d probably start by asking for a look inside that desk,” Vlado said, glancing at the space beneath Kasic’s elbows.

Now Kasic was the one who seemed suddenly at a loss.

“Yes, the desk,” he said. “I would have waited to move in, but things happen so quickly around here that I thought it best to get right on top of things. His business files, or at least the ones that had nothing to do with this case or with any of these activities, I’ve kept.”

Vlado started to object, but Kasic raised a hand, tilting his head, and said, “I know, you’d like to be the judge of that. But you’ll simply have to take my word. I know it’s not easy, but there are some things in our files too sensitive for anyone but our people to see at present. They have nothing to do with Vitas. They concern other investigations, and I don’t want them compromised.”

“Wouldn’t it at least be important for context. Perhaps I’d know better where the pieces fit if I can have a better look at the whole range.”