Good As Gone (18 page)

“Drop it, Dabrowski,” I shouted. “Drop it and don’t move an inch.”

The lawyer’s face flushed with shock. He did as he was told, raising his hands above his head, his entire form trembling.

With the aid of my injured left arm, I rose to my feet.

“Where’s Ana?” I said.

Chapter 33

Dabrowski led Marek and me into the basement of the late Kazmer Chudzik’s lake house. The lawyer was still trembling, his voice little more than a rasp. Several times he stumbled on the creaky wooden stairs, as though he might faint. It was understandable: Dabrowski’s life had instantly turned to shit. He’d just killed the most fearsome mob boss in Poland. If Chudzik’s associates didn’t ice him in revenge, Dabrowski would spend the rest of his life in prison for murder and kidnapping, not to mention possession of hundreds of images of child pornography.

Several times on the stairs I heard the lawyer mumble, “You should have killed me, Fisk.”

In the cold, dark basement, I pulled down on a chain overhead. A single bare bulb threw light over the large space, exposing Ana, who lay clothed but motionless on a dirty mattress in the shadows. Ana’s hands and feet were bound together; a gag was stretched across her mouth. Marek ran to her as soon as he saw her. He nudged her and pleaded for her to wake as he untied her bonds. A lump formed in my throat, another in the pit of my stomach, as Marek gently slapped his sister on her pale, round cheeks.

Finally, she came awake.

Something inside me soared. We’d just met, yet looking at her, I suddenly felt as though I’d known her a lifetime. Realized her death would have killed so large a piece of me that there would have been nothing left but bones.

Marek, crying, hugged her with all his might.

Next to me, Dabrowski breathed a sigh of relief.

“
Woda
,” Ana begged as soon as Marek undid her gag.

Marek was prepared. He’d snatched a bottle of Naleczowianka from Chudzik’s fridge upstairs. Now he pulled it from his pants pocket, twisted the cap, and held it to her lips. She drank hungrily, as though she hadn’t ever tasted water before.

I wanted to run to her, throw my arms around her, but how could I deny her brother?

“Are you okay, Ana?” Marek said, once she finally pushed the water bottle away. I knew he was speaking English for my benefit and I was warmed by that fact.

“Yes,” she said, her eyes moving from him to me, then settling on Dabrowski.

She stared fiercely at Dabrowski—her boss, her mentor, her friend, her lover, her betrayer. When she started to rise from the mattress, Marek helped her up, but wouldn’t allow her to approach the lawyer.

“You bastard,” she hissed at Dabrowski. “How could you?”

“I did nothing, Ana,” he said softly. “You have to believe me.”

The shock was clearly wearing off; Dabrowski was going into professional mode. From here on out, we’d be dealing with a defense lawyer.

A sudden rage coursed through my veins and I shoved Dabrowski to the ground.

“Didn’t do anything, eh?” I said. “Upstairs you tried to spray me with an automatic.”

“I
saved
you,” he cried from his spot on the cold cement floor. “I killed Chudzik.”

“The hell you saved me. Chudzik was unarmed. If I didn’t hit the deck, I’d be full of holes right now, and you and your client would be long gone.” I stepped toward him. “But we’re not down here to put you on trial, Dabrowski. Frankly, I don’t care what happens to you once I leave this basement.”

And it was true.

“Thing is,” I said, “if you want me to leave you here alive, you’re going to tell me where I can find that little girl.”

“You are mistaken,” he cried.

I leveled my Glock at his knee. “I don’t think that I am, Dabrowski.”

“I only represented Kazmer Chudzik in a professional capacity. All I did was arrange his meeting with Talik Yilmaz and Alim Sari. I have no idea what you are talking about when you say ‘that little girl.’”

Ana stepped toward Dabrowski with a look of pure hatred in her eyes. “If you do not tell us where Lindsay Sorkin is, Mikolaj, I promise you, I will kill you myself.”

Dabrowski seemed more convinced of Ana’s threats than of the threats from the guy holding the gun on him.

“I—I—I…” he stammered, searching his mind for an answer. “I can only tell you what I overheard, Ana.”

“Make it quick,” I said.

“Then you will go?” Dabrowski said, regaining control of his voice. “Then you will all leave and I will be free to go?”

Marek stepped forward. “You son of a bi—”

Ana held a hand on her brother’s chest. “No, Marek. Mikolaj is not important now. Only the girl.”

I had to tear my eyes from the corners of her mouth, which were irritated from the gag. Had to look away from Ana’s reddened wrists or else I might have killed the lawyer on the cold cement floor on which he sat.

“Fine,” I told him. “You share with us everything you know, and if we’re satisfied that you’re telling the truth, not holding anything back, then the three of us will leave. What happens after that will be left to you.”

He considered it. But what choice did he have? At least a half-dozen men at the house were already dead, including Chudzik himself. What was one more? He had nothing to gain by keeping silent. If he talked, at least he had a chance that we’d let him live, let him go free.

“This is what I know,” he said tentatively. “Two weeks ago, Chudzik was behind bars, still awaiting his trial. He could not talk to anyone in prison, except for his lawyer. All other conversations were recorded by his jailers. So, early one morning, he called me and asked me to come in, said he needed to speak with me about something urgent. Naturally, I assumed it had to do with his case. But when I arrived, he simply gave me a telephone number and instructed me to call it. The number was to a lawyer in Berlin, a man who represented Alim Sari. The lawyer’s name was Ulrich Unger. I was to tell Unger that Alim’s uncle needed to pick up a package in Paris and deliver it to Warsaw.

“I made the call. This Unger, the lawyer in Berlin, seemed as much in the dark as I was. But he said he would deliver the message to his client and call me back later that day. When Unger called back, he said simply, ‘Send the details, and my client will tell you his price.’ I returned to the prison that evening and gave Chudzik the message. Chudzik instructed me to call the lawyer back with the details. I took out a pen, ready to scratch them down. But Chudzik ripped the pen from my hand and threw it on the floor. He said, ‘Nothing in writing!’ He told me to memorize what he said and repeat it verbatim to the lawyer in Berlin.

“Now, mind you, I had no idea what any of this meant. I thought maybe Chudzik needed someone to retrieve stolen diamonds or laundered money or drugs. I never dreamed it was a person, let alone a child. Chudzik said only this: ‘Lindsay Sorkin, six, Hotel d’Étonner,’ then he gave me a date. I confess I was curious at this point. I told Chudzik that I would rather not get involved in anything so nefarious. He told me, ‘You are already involved.’ He seemed dead serious and I became scared, but then he smiled and told me there was nothing to worry about. I figured this Lindsay Sorkin was a courier. She was to deliver six of something. Maybe six diamonds, six million laundered euros, six kilos of heroin. Anything but a girl.

“I passed the information along, and I thought that was the end of it. But Unger called me back again, late that night at my home. I was shocked; I hadn’t given him my home number. It is unlisted because of the business I am in. It frightened me that he was calling. I said, ‘What do you want? Why are you calling me?’ Unger said, ‘My client insists on five times the usual amount. He will drop the package off at Hauptbahnhof Station.’ I hung up on him. The next day, I visited Chudzik and relayed the message. I said I was done. He said, ‘Fine. Just call Unger and tell him that you agree to the price.’

“After the call, I heard nothing about it until after Chudzik’s acquittal at trial. Unger called me. His client wanted to know why I hadn’t paid. It wasn’t until then that I realized that Unger did not even know the name of my client. Unger said Alim and his uncle Talik were threatening to kill me. That I needed to come up with five million euros or I would be dead by the end of the week.

“I went to Chudzik’s office in Pruszkow. I was a mess. I yelled at him and he laughed at me. I cursed at him and he said that if I was any other man, he would kill me where I stood. I asked him what I should do. Chudzik told me to call Unger and to arrange a meeting here in Poland, at his lake house. But I don’t dare ever use his name. He said I would meet with Talik Yilmaz and negotiate a settlement.

“I was scared, but he said I would have protection. He’d hired private security for the meeting. Chudzik himself was not supposed to be here, but today he showed. He spoke with Talik and Alim for a long time. It was only today that I learned what the package was, that the Turks had had two Germans steal that little girl from her parents in Paris. Just before you arrived and all hell broke loose, I realized why Chudzik had arranged the meeting. He intended to kill Talik and Alim. And I became certain he was going to kill me as well.”

Dabrowski was lying—at least the part about not knowing what the package was until today. Just about everyone in the civilized world knew the name Lindsay Sorkin by now. He’d heard the name on television and recognized it; he’d had to. But that didn’t matter now. I wasn’t here to prosecute him. I just needed a lead on the girl.

My left arm throbbing, I leaned over and grabbed Dabrowski by his jacket, pulled him to his feet. “What was said at the meeting? Where’s Lindsay Sorkin now?”

Dabrowski dry heaved. “I swear,” he said, “I do not know. All I gathered was that Talik was upset because his two men—the Germans who kidnapped the girl—had to be killed because an American and a Berlin investigator nearly got to him and Alim. Of course, they were speaking about you and whoever accompanied you in Germany.”

“Why did Chudzik want the girl? Why specifically Lindsay Sorkin?”

“I swear I do not know. But if I had to guess, I would say that he was selling her to someone else, someone who requested her specifically. Chudzik has sold girls before. Never that young, but teenagers, even preteens, yes, I am sure.”

“Who did he sell them to?”

“Who, I do not know. Only that, geographically, they usually go the other way. They are purchased from someone in Eastern Europe, someone from Moldova or Odessa. And they are sent west to the EU or the United States.”

“What about children?” I said. “Who handles the child pornography?”

“Child pornography?”
he cried. “I have no idea.”

“Enough lies.” I threw him back to the floor and raised my Glock.

Marek said, “We saw what was on your computer in your law office, you filthy pervert.”

Ana’s eyes went wide. “What?”

“Those pictures, they have nothing to do with this girl. You must believe me. I paid for the photos. I have no idea who makes them.”

He was being truthful, I knew. At least about Lindsay Sorkin having nothing to do with the photos. Not only had she been specifically targeted but now we were talking millions of dollars. Could be that the same conspirators were involved, but we’d have to pick up the trail from where we had left it in Berlin, avoid getting too far ahead of ourselves. That’s when you get clumsy. That’s when mistakes are made.

“Who picked Lindsay Sorkin up at Hauptbahnhof Station?” I said. “Who are they and where can I find them?”

Dabrowski took a deep breath. “That I do not know. But it doesn’t matter. The girl has been passed off already.”

“To whom?” I said, my stomach turning at the thought that we had arrived too late once again. “To Chudzik’s men?”

Dabrowski shook his head. “They are not Chudzik’s men,” he said. “I do not know their identities. Only that they are not Chudzik’s men.”

“Whose men are they, then?”

Dabrowski took several more deep breaths, then looked away from me and stared up at Marek.

“They belong to Chief Inspector Aleksander Gasowski,” the lawyer said.

Chapter 34

We had Dabrowski call to set up an urgent meeting with Gasowski in Warsaw. “It has to be tonight,” Dabrowski insisted, even though this night had few hours left. Gasowski bristled but ultimately acquiesced once Dabrowski told him that his meeting with Talik had gone sideways. And that Gasowski might not get paid.

“What do we do with Mikolaj?” Ana said to me while Marek tied up Dabrowski.

“What’s there to do with him?” I said. “I suspect the Pruszkow mob will make your boss’s future their first priority. After all, he did murder their boss.”

“How will they know?”

“We’ll be sure to tell Gasowski. Perhaps pass the information along to Piotr Denys as well.”

“Who is Piotr Denys?”

“A former member of the Wołomin mafia. He helped Marek and me find this place. So he helped lead us to you.”

“And the child pornography?”

“We’ll make sure an anonymous tip gets called in before Dabrowski can make it back to his office. And we’ll make sure his arrest makes the headlines. Mikolaj Dabrowski certainly won’t have an easy time in prison, considering his offenses.”

“I would like to cut off his testicles,” Ana said.

“Yes, well. I think we’ve all seen enough carnage for one day. Besides, we need to reach Gasowski before daybreak. His men will have had a significant head start. But if we find out where they are headed, maybe we can still cut them off.”

She looked at my left arm. “This wound is bad. You need to go to hospital.”

“It can wait,” I said.

“And what about this crime scene? We cannot just leave things like this. There are bodies.”

“We have no choice,” I said. “We call it in right now and the news will make its way to Gasowski before we reach him.”

“But the authorities—”

“Once our meeting with Gasowski is over and we know everything that he knows, then it’ll be safe to call it in.”

Ana didn’t like it, but she did understand.

Marek stepped over to us. “The bastard is all tied up,” he said.