Robert Crais - The First Rule

Pike said, “Let’s talk to Rina again.”

They took their own vehicles to the guesthouse while Jon Stone returned to Grebner’s. The drive to the guesthouse at the far end of the Sunset Strip took only minutes, and then they cruised along the narrow, sun-dappled street to the rental property. Yanni’s truck was gone, and Pike immediately sensed they would find the house empty.

Pike waited for Cole at the gate, then eased along the stubby drive past the front home into the tiny courtyard. All of it vibed deserted and creepy, and when Pike glanced at Cole again, saw that Cole had his gun out, dangling along his leg.

Pike tried the knob, found it unlocked, and went in with Cole behind him. The little guesthouse was cool and pleasant, and smelled of the vining roses.

The single studio was empty. The bathroom door was open, but the light within it out. Pike called anyway.

“Rina?”

“They’re gone. Look. Their things are gone.”

Cole set the bag on the dinette table.

“I’ll see if this stuff gives us anything.”

Cole dumped the contents of the bag, then began organizing a jumble of phones, wallets, and papers.

Pike phoned Walsh as Cole worked, putting the phone on speaker so Cole could hear. When Walsh realized the call was from Pike, she seemed distant and wary.

“Where are you?”

“Doing what I told you I’d do.”

“You were supposed to keep me advised. I want to know what you’re doing.”

Pike knew she was trying to bait him into admitting he found the bug, so he ignored her.

“The guns are in Los Angeles.”

“Where?”

“Don’t know, but the deal is close. I have some information I need to confirm.”

“Don’t just leave me hanging. Where are those guns?”

“Jakovich has them. That’s all I know. You want me to leave it at that?”

“No.”

She sounded defeated, as if needing Pike’s help left her depressed.

“Does Jakovich have any children?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Michael Darko caused a one-year-old male child to be kidnapped, and I have conflicting information about the child’s identity.”

“Jakovich is an old man.”

“Doesn’t mean he can’t have a baby.”

“Jesus, Pike, I don’t know. So what if he does?”

“One of my sources tells me the child is Darko’s child. The other says Jakovich is the father. If Darko kidnapped this kid to force the old man’s hand, it’s blown up in his face. This source tells me the old man has ramped up the war, which means he could unload the guns faster just to get rid of them.”

“Okay, wait-how has he ramped up the war?”

“He’s vowed to kill the kid himself. This takes the child off the table as a bargaining chip, and sends a message to the other Serb sets. The source told me they’re big on messages.”

Pike heard Walsh take a deep breath.

“Is this source reliable?”

“I had a gun to his head, Walsh. How reliable could he be? That’s why I’m calling you-to see if any of this is possible.”

She breathed again, and then her voice was thoughtful.

“Vorovskoy Zakon. You know what that is?”

Pike glanced at Cole, but Cole shook his head.

“No.”

“Started with the Russian gangs back in the old Soviet Union, but it’s all through the East European gangs now.”

“What is it?”

“It translates as ‘thieves in law.’ Vory v Zakone . What they call the thieves code. These people live by eighteen rules, Pike-actual written rules, kind of like a guidebook for assholes. The first rule-rule number one-is that their families don’t matter. Mom, dad, the brother, sis-those people do not matter. They are not supposed to have wives or children. It’s actually written like that, Pike. I’ve read it with my own eyes.”

Pike thought about Rina.

“What about girlfriends?”

“Girlfriends are fine. Have all the girlfriends you want, but marriage is out. These guys swear a blood oath on this crap, and I have interrogated enough of them to tell you they mean it. So if you’re asking me whether Jakovich would sacrifice his own child, I have to say yes. They have these rules, and the rules are enforced. If the rules are broken, the punishment is death. I’m not shitting you. The old pakhans take this stuff seriously.”

Pike nodded, thinking about a man who could do such a thing, and then he continued.

“I need to know about Darko, too. If the child is Darko’s, then my other source is solid. If not, then not, and that business I told you about Darko leaving the country is probably wrong.”

“I’ll check with Interpol. They might have something on Jakovich, but I can already tell you we don’t have the information on Darko. You’re on your own with Darko.”

“Okay. Let me know.”

She said, “Pike?”

Pike waited.

“Don’t get second thoughts about killing him. Don’t make that mistake. Darko is mine.”

Pike said, “ Sh.”

He hung up as Cole glanced up from the things he had spread on the table.

Cole said, “I think we have something.”

Pike went to see, thinking he had rules of his own.

Jon Stone

Jon Stone dropped off Pike and his buddy at their cars, then drove back up the hill, but he didn’t return to his observation point. He would in a few minutes, but he wanted to take care of something first.

He parked outside Grebner’s house, noting that half the vehicles at the surrounding homes were Rovers just like his, and that almost all of them were black, also like his. He counted two white Rovers, and a silver, but all the others were black. Parking in this neighborhood was like hiding a tree in the forest.

Jon got out, went around to the rear, and opened the hatch. He dug around in his gearbox, selecting a sweet little nine-millimeter Sig he had rebuilt himself, along with its matching suppressor tube, which he had also built. He screwed the suppressor in place, checked to make sure no one was watching, then closed up his Rover and let himself into Grebner’s house.

Stone figured the three turds Pike described would still be trying to get loose, and, sure enough, there they were, the two outside, and the older turd there in the living room-Grebner.

Grebner was on his feet, stumbling around in a circle as he tried to see his back in a mirror. He had scored a pair of scissors, and was trying to cut the plastic ties binding his wrists.

When Jon walked in, Grebner looked over, saw the Sig, and froze like a stiff.

Jon said, “That guy who was here, with the dark glasses? He’s the nice one.”

Stone stripped the scissors from Grebner’s hand, kicked his legs out from under him, and dropped him to the terrazzo.

Stone said, “Watch.”

The two men outside saw him coming and tried to roll away, over and over like a couple of glowworms. One of them was barking in Serbian, but the other just kept rolling. Jon had to hand it to the guy.

Jon grabbed the barker by the feet, dragged him to the pool, and pushed him in. The other one managed to wedge himself against the bar by the time Jon caught him. Jon dragged him back to the pool, and tossed him in, too. They were splashing around like a couple of beached fish, and breathing about as well.

Grebner managed to gain his feet again, and ran to the front door, but lost a lot of time fumbling with the lock. Jon had locked it when he entered. Jon caught him at the door, dropped him to the ground again, then dragged him back to the living room. Dude slid easily across the terrazzo.

Jon said, “This is a lovely home, by the way. Wonderful view. Nice clean design. I have an interest in residential architecture.”