Berlin (Leo & Allissa International Thrillers Book 3), page 4
Borya turned to face Semion and saw a look of pleasure flicker across his face.
The sick bastard.
14
As the flat’s flimsy door clunked back into place behind Charles, Allissa knew what they needed to do. They would go to Berlin and find out what had happened to Charles’ brother.
Climbing the stairs again, Allissa felt the relaxation of their time in Abu Dhabi evaporating. The first few hours of an investigation were the hardest. There were the logistics to organise — like transport and accommodation — and a lot of research to do. The better they knew the missing person, and the more they could get inside their mind, the easier it would be when they were on the ground in a foreign city. They needed to think like that person in order to understand where they might go.
Back in the front room, Allissa grabbed her laptop, sank into the sofa and thumbed the power button. As the computer loaded, she looked up at the empty room. An hour ago, she’d been trying on her dress for a party she now wasn’t going to attend. With that thought, her right hand slid to her left shoulder. That was where her fingers had intertwined with Leo’s. The embrace had been unexpected, but Allissa had liked it. Watching their reflection in the mirror, Allissa saw Leo move in to kiss her neck. Instinctively, she’d bent her head to let him in. It felt good. She was ready for it. But then the door had buzzed and —
Pushing the thoughts from her mind, Allissa opened an internet browser and typed “Minty Rolleston” into the search bar.
“As Charles told us, Minty runs this fashion website,” Allissa said, turning the screen of her laptop to face Leo as he walked into the room carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. “Unusual clothes. All very expensive.”
Leo had just been to the shop to get milk. They now had work to do, so proper coffee, with milk, was essential.
Leo sat down next to Allissa. He was careful to leave a space between them.
“He also has a shop in Berlin,” Allissa said, “so that would be the first place to look. Just to see if anything’s going on there. I’ve also found the address of his flat and had a look through social media at the other places he likes to go. I’ll put a list together.”
“Got a picture?” Leo asked, taking a sip of the coffee.
“I’ll find one.” Allissa tapped at the keyboard.
A few seconds later, Minty’s picture appeared. Minty looked as Alissa expected: long hair ran across the shoulders of a maroon blazer, a white shirt was open at the neck to highlight a tangle of chains and pendants, and a large, dark beard contrasted super-white teeth.
“This was taken at an awards night in Milan a few weeks ago,” Allissa said, reading the description. “Minty posted it on his social media. Could be worth finding out who he went with.”
“Yes, good idea, you’ve made a good start.” Leo raised the coffee to his lips.
“Well, it’s not often we get a case this early. Normally people come to us weeks after the person’s gone missing. We’ve got a great opportunity here.”
Leo nodded.
“If we can move quickly here, I reckon we’ve got a good chance,” Allissa said. “I’ll have a look at flights now. We should be able to get out there tomorrow morning.”
Leo put the cup down and grabbed his laptop from the bag beside him.
“No wait,” he said, “you’ve got Lucy’s party tomorrow. You’ve got the dress and everything.”
“I’ll cancel it.” Allissa looked at Leo. “I’ll tell her something came up.”
“No, you can’t. You won’t. You need to go to that party. We talked about how it was your way back into the family. You need to go.”
Allissa glanced from Leo to the computer. On the screen, a list of flights from London to Berlin began to load.
“Fine,” Allissa said, looking back at him. “We could both go the following day. Get an early flight the morning after the party.”
“Yes,” Leo said thoughtfully, “although, as you say, we’ve got the advantage of time with this one. It would be a shame to waste even one day. I can go ahead tomorrow, and you can join me the day after.”
Allissa’s mouth moved to argue, but no words came out.
“I’ll get some of the groundwork done,” Leo said. “Start looking around and see what I find.”
Without comment, Allissa made changes to the flight details on her computer. Leo could get started on his own, Allissa knew that. He had gone to Kathmandu alone. But things were different now; he didn’t need to go on his own. They did things together. That’s how it worked.
Sitting back, Allissa found her hand rising to the place their fingers had intertwined.
“Are you sure?” She said, turning to look at Leo. “One day won’t make that much difference. We could just go together and —”
“Sure, yes, of course, I can do this,” Leo said. “The first few hours are crucial. If we don’t go now, we might not ever… you know, find out.”
“Alright,” Allissa said. “I’ll get you a flight booked for tomorrow, and I’ll join you the following day.”
“Okay,” Leo replied, an uncontrollable smile breeding across his face. “Although I’ll probably have it solved by then. All you ever do is slow me down.”
A flash of movement.
“Hey, watch out!” he shouted as Allissa elbowed him in the ribs. “I’ll spill this!”
15
Borya stepped out into the bright sunshine and gulped a greedy breath of the fresh afternoon air. Surrounded by a dirty canal and the backs of some warehouses, the place felt isolated. He stood and listened to the air. The wind tickled through the thicket of trees behind the building and water splashed faintly from the canal. The sun was high in the sky now. It was turning out to be another bright Berlin day.
Borya was tired. He wasn’t often up this early. But when Olezka called, you came. That was the way it worked.
Borya walked towards three cars parked in the small yard. Olezka’s Rolls Royce, a black Jeep and Borya’s dark blue Mercedes. The concrete was buckled with age and nature. New shoots of green clung to the cracks like a rash. Borya fumbled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the Mercedes. Opening the passenger door, he leant in and took his pipe from the glove box. Borya knew he was the only man younger than seventy to smoke a pipe, but he liked it. The process of stuffing it with tobacco and the cool taste of the smoke was far better than cigarettes and cigars.
Leaning on the fender, Borya looked up at the building. It had that sort of old-worldly charm that was common in Berlin’s decrepit structures. A kind of natural wonkiness, a softness on the eye. Borya thought modern designers would do well to copy and replicate it.
A bird called from somewhere in the undergrowth behind the building. Another answered a few seconds later.
Borya drew the pouch of tobacco from inside his coat. His hands had almost stopped shaking; that was good. The problem was, the thing that made him nervous was that Keal had seen him with Minty at the shop a few weeks ago. Borya had gone by to check things over, just to make sure Minty was doing what they’d asked. It was stupid, he shouldn’t have been there, but he just wanted to make sure things were alright. He’d even got a friend to drive him there so no one would see his car outside. It was just bad luck for Keal to arrive at the same time. It was just bad luck. But Borya had no business being at the shop that day, and if Olezka found out he had been there…
Borya felt a rancid taste bubble into his mouth. He spat it to the floor.
He just had to hope that Keal thought nothing of it. Borya knew that if his being there was questioned, then Olezka may arrive at an entirely different conclusion.
“No, no, no, no!” The yelled words echoed from the bowels of the dilapidated building. Two pigeons resting on one of the old windowsills thumped into the air.
Borya had worked with Olezka for a long time and knew his patience was limited. If Keal didn’t come up with something soon, a bullet in the brain would seem like a holiday.
Borya grimaced as another scream reverberated. He hadn’t intended for Olezka to blame Keal. Borya hadn’t thought Olezka would find out at all. There were so many packages. He thought it would be impossible for Olezka to account for them all. Borya had obviously underestimated the Vor v Zakone.
With an unsteady hand, Borya tapped out the old tobacco from the pipe and began to repack it. His hands shook as he pressed the leaves into the bowl with his thumb.
“It’s a messy business,” came a guttural voice from the doorway. Borya fumbled with the pipe and tobacco scattered to the concrete. Olezka crossed the yard.
“That man, though.” Olezka pointed back towards the building. “He has to know something. It’s the only way. I’ve no idea how long he’s been doing it for. Ublyudok.”
Borya lifted the pipe with both hands, clenched it firmly between his teeth, and rummaged through his coat pockets for a lighter.
“You need a light? Let me.” Olezka took a lighter from the pocket of his jacket. He still wore his gloves.
“Thanks,” Borya said. There was a bloody stain on the lighter’s glinting surface.
“No, not this. Please no. Noooo!” echoed across the yard. Olezka didn’t react at all. Borya took a deep drag on the pipe.
“If he knows anything,” Olezka said, “Semion will get it out of him.”
Borya nodded. He hoped never to know what Semion did to people. He had seen grown men turn into babies after two hours with Semion.
“I didn’t want to do this, you understand.” Olezka turned to face Borya.
Borya nodded and felt the impact of Olezka’s dark stare.
“I am sad to see it happen. You and Keal have been like sons to me. I just can’t have people stealing from me.”
“I understand, Dedushka Olezka,” Borya said. He took another drag on the pipe. “Anyone would do the same.”
The older man nodded. “Hey Borya, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling alright?” Olezka’s voice lightened.
“Anything, I’ll do anything! No!” The pitiful begging resonated through the empty rooms of the derelict building.
“Yes, I’m alright,” Borya replied. “Just tired. A lot of work lately.”
“I understand.” Olezka put a gloved hand on Borya’s forearm. “You go home and get some rest now. You don’t need to be here. I’ll come and see you later.”
“Thank you, I will,” Borya said.
Olezka turned and walked back towards the building.
Borya looked down at the place where Olezka’s gloved hand had rested. A deep red stain was now soaking into the fabric.
16
Willing herself to wake up, Allissa closed her eyes tight until the colours danced. She opened them again slowly and looked through the window of the train. Outside, the darkened countryside of West Sussex rolled past beneath the milky glow of the pre-dawn sky.
The previous night had been a late one. They’d stayed up to book flights, trains, and read all the information they could find on Minty and his supposed death. They’d received the police report from Charles which, with the help of an online translator, detailed that at 5 am, a man who was later identified as Minty Rolleston was killed in an incident at Kottbusser Tor U-Bahn station. The police were not treating the death as suspicious or unusual. The event had not even been mentioned in the local press. Maybe the death of a British ex-patriot was not particularly newsworthy.
In a few minutes, Leo would be getting off the train at Gatwick Airport, from where he would fly alone to Berlin. Allissa was continuing on to London, where she’d get a connecting train to Reading for the party this evening. Allissa blinked again. She hadn’t needed to get up this early, but something had made her want to travel with Leo. It felt like being involved.
“Go straight to the train station where it happened,” Allissa said, suppressing a yawn, “Kottbusser Tor U-Bahn.”
“That’s what I plan to do,” Leo replied without looking up from his phone.
“Then maybe to the shop. If anything looks dangerous —”
“Yes, I know,” Leo said, grinning, “I’ll wait for you. Honestly, it’s going to be fine. I’m just going to get a load of the boring groundwork done. You won’t miss any of the fun, I promise.”
Allissa forced a smile. She didn’t like the thought of Leo going on his own. She knew first-hand that their line of work was dangerous. Anything could happen in the next twenty-four hours.
Allissa tensed as a computerised voice reminded them that London Gatwick was the next stop. Sure, she wanted to reconnect with her family, but over the last few months she and Leo had done everything together. Good, bad and dangerous — they’d faced it all, side by side.
“I could just come with you now,” she blurted out. “Don’t worry about the party. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
“No,” Leo said evenly. “You’re going to the party. You need to see your family. I’ll be fine.”
“But what if —”
“I told you, nothing’s going to happen. I’ll just be doing the boring stuff until you get there.” Leo slid his hand across the table and placed it over hers. “It’s going to be fine.”
Allissa nodded against her swelling discomfort.
The computerised voice confirmed they were now approaching London Gatwick. Leo rose to his feet.
“Remember you need to keep me updated,” Allissa said. “I want to know everything.”
“I will,” Leo said, slinging his bag across his shoulder. “Remember you can watch my progress on that new app thingy too.”
They’d installed a new app on both their phones which allowed them to see each other’s location. Leo hadn’t been sure about it at first, but Allissa insisted.
As Allissa nodded, her stomach tightened further.
“I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon,” Allissa said. “I’ve got the address of the hotel, but I imagine you’ll be out by then so let me know where to meet you.”
“Don’t worry.” Leo rested his hand on Allissa’s shoulder. “I’ll get the boring stuff done today. Don’t worry about me. You need to enjoy this party.”
“I will,” Allissa lied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then, without thinking, she stood and hugged Leo tight. Leo put his arms around her too.
The train pulled to a stop and the doors buzzed. A few sleepy passengers began to move.
“You need to go,” Allissa said, breaking off the hug.
“Yep,” Leo said, stepping backwards. “See you tomorrow.”
Through the window, Allissa watched Leo pull his backpack tight and head for the exit. As the train started to move, she looked away. She would be there tomorrow. It was just a few hours. But regardless of the time, somewhere within her, a sense of deep foreboding grew unbidden.
17
Anafisa fought for breath as the man’s thick hands closed around her neck. She felt each finger tightening, constricting, extinguishing. She felt each individual muscle pushing down on her throat. She grabbed at his wrists, but they didn’t move. Beneath his cold skin, the muscles pulled tighter. She scratched at his face. One of her dazzling nails caught his shaved head. It was cold and hard, like marble.
He lengthened his arms and pushed her against the wall. She thudded to the plaster. Two paintings fell. Glass smashed across the floor. He shoved her again. Anafisa felt the last bit of air leave her lungs.
“You have two options,” he grunted in their native Russian. “I’m coming back in one week, and I’ll either be taking my money or” — his right hand released her neck and grabbed her by the wrist — “I’ll be taking one of these pretty fingers for each ten-thousand you owe me.”
Anafisa felt the floor rush up to meet her as the man let her go. She took several greedy breaths then opened her eyes.
Anafisa shot up in the bed. The sheets, tangled around her writhing body, were wet from sweat. She was breathless. She looked around. She wasn’t at home, but she was alone.
That was unusual. It was unlike Keal to get up early. Anafisa pushed herself up in the bed and let her breathing subside. She had dreamt about the man’s visit for the last four nights. She had three days to find his money.
Anafisa reached to the bedside table and picked up her handbag. Her clothes were strewn across the floor. Opening the bag, she checked the money Keal had given her last night. He had paid her well, and it hadn’t even taken that long. These gangster types were all about the show. It was all about massaging their ego. They wanted to go out and look good. Hang around in some exclusive bars, drink champagne and snort cocaine. By the time they got home, they were done after a few pumps. That was if things down there were working at all by then. Either way, it didn’t matter to Anafisa.
Anafisa exhaled and rubbed a hand across her neck. She counted the money again. She still didn’t have enough.
She would have to sell something, after all. Her thoughts ran to her gleaming Maserati Levante parked outside. She could probably cover the debt if she sold that, but then what was she supposed to drive?
When Anafisa had moved to Berlin, she had it all going for her. She had a lump sum of money from her husband’s estate, the apartment in Berlin, one in the Alps, jewellery and all the rest. She was set for life.
Where did it all go wrong?
Anafisa dropped her handbag to the bed and saw the exact reason it went wrong. It glimmered at her from the bedside table. Keal must have left it. He wouldn’t mind if she had a taste. Anafisa reached over and picked up the bag of cocaine. It was a big one, a few grams at least. Normally she would smoke it, but there was no time right now. She dove a long nail expertly into the powder and brought it up to her nose. Then she inhaled, and the beasts of addiction faded away.
