The Boy Who Stole From the Dead (32 page)

She slipped through a circular opening and emerged on a mound of grass. Rain pelted her. Nadia stayed low and looked out. The field looked familiar but the other entrance to the cave was nowhere in sight. She crept around the mound and glanced in the opposite direction.

An old Range Rover was parked a hundred yards beside the main entrance to the cave. Her guide’s car was gone. Fog obscured the Rover’s windows. Someone was inside, she thought.

Nadia sat and waited. Stuck her hands out to let the rain wash the blood away and clean her wounds. Marko had been talking. Then she’d heard the thump. And not another sound from Marko.

He was dead. He had to be dead. It was only logical, and yet she couldn’t contemplate the thought. A sense of loss paralyzed her. Marko had just reached the point in his life where he was comfortable with himself. He wasn’t drinking. He’d discovered contentment and joy. She sat there trying to imagine a life without him and couldn’t fathom it. And it was her fault. He was here on her behalf.

She sat in a quiet stupor for ten minutes until a noise rousted her. The rawboned man with the rifle emerged. She was shocked how quickly he made it out given how badly he’d been limping. Ex-military, she thought. He looked like it, and moved like it, too.

Rain pummeled him. He slipped the rifle off his shoulder and looked around. Found the Range Rover. Sealed the lid to the cave and limped over to the vehicle. He opened the passenger’s side front door and lowered his head to speak to someone inside. The driver, Nadia thought. A few seconds later he opened the rear passenger door.

Marko stepped out of the Range Rover.

He was alive. A sense of euphoria swept Nadia. It left her giddy.

He had a bandage on his head. His hands were cuffed in front of him. The man with the rifle took him by the arm and directed him to the front passenger seat. Even put his hand over Marko’s head to make sure he didn’t bump his wound on the way in.

Marko carried himself with a fearlessness that belied his situation. He even stopped to say something to the man with the rifle before climbing in the front seat.

Another pair of men must have followed the two she’d encountered, Nadia thought. Perhaps they’d gone to search the other
khatki
, or the water source on the opposite side of the Gypsum Giant. They probably had shortwave radios. As soon as they heard shooting they must have come running. From there they took Marko to the car while the other two pursued her.

The thump must have been a warning shot. Followed by a rifle butt to the head.

Marko was alive.

Nadia’s joy was short-lived. Karel. She’d put him out of her mind. The image of his head bursting open flashed before her eyes. His final words rang in her head.

Valentin. He knew the name. There was a connection between Bobby and Valentin. It involved something called the Zaroff Seven.

And one more thing. It was so unbelievable as to be laughable. But Karel hadn’t wavered in his conviction. Not for a moment.

The formula was real.

CHAPTER 45

N
ADIA WAITED FOR
the Range Rover to drive out of sight. After ten more minutes to make sure they didn’t double back, she walked five miles in the rain to the village of Strilkivtsi. Along the way, she sipped water from the bottle in her knapsack and considered her discoveries.

Karel had insisted the formula was real and was contained in the locket. But if it wasn’t on a piece of microfilm inside the compartment where was it? In a steel capsule within the body of the locket? Or was it etched somehow? That sounded more likely. The thought had never occurred to her before because the contents of the locket had proved it was all a ruse. Or so it seemed at the time. But wouldn’t that have been just like her uncle to hide it so well?

Then the painful question dawned on Nadia. Did Bobby know? Had he been lying to her the entire time? And where was the locket? In jail, she suspected, with Bobby’s other personal possessions. He never took it off his neck except to sleep.

Her thoughts turned to her brother. If her pursuers wanted Marko dead, they would have killed him in the Priest’s Grotto. But they didn’t. That meant they had a use for him. Maybe they wanted to see what he knew. More likely they wanted to use him to get to her. Nadia wasn’t sure why but that’s what her instincts told her. Alerting the authorities about his abduction could backfire. Her pursuers could change their minds and decide keeping Marko alive wasn’t worth the risk of being found. If she notified the American embassy in Kyiv they would seek help from the Ukrainian police. They had a less than sterling reputation for integrity.

No. Frightening as it was, Nadia’s optimal course of action was to wait. She had her cell phone. Marko knew her number. Soon she would get a call, and her pursuers would reveal themselves and their motives. Both were tied to Bobby’s past, Ivan Valentin, and his son’s murder. They’d begun following her as soon as she started asking questions about Valentin. She was sure of it. In the meantime, she took small comfort in knowing that Marko could take care of himself.

Nadia paid a seamstress’s son five hundred
hryvnia
to drive her from Strilkivtsi to Lviv. It was the equivalent of sixty dollars. She listened to her voice mails during the trip. One was from Johnny. There had been a break in the case against Bobby. The witness had changed his story. The victim had been carrying a rifle and a hunting knife. The witness was broke. The rifle and the knife were worth money. The latter had an ivory handle. He’d taken them both for the money. The victim was also carrying a map of Hart Island. Johnny said it was a public cemetery. Nadia vaguely remembered reading an article about the burial of homeless people on an island. It was a place one needed a permit to enter.

They arrived at the Leopolis ten minutes past noon. New York was seven hours behind. That meant it was 5:12 a.m. Too early to call a friend, she thought. Unfortunately she had no choice. She called Paul Obon, bookman and source of knowledge on all things Ukrainian. She indentified herself and apologized for calling so early.

“Who is this?” he said.

“It’s Nadia, Mr. Obon. Nadia Tesla. Your favorite customer.”

He muttered her name under his breath as though making sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Nadia? What time is it?” His voice trailed off. A second later he sounded awake. “What’s wrong? Something must be wrong.”

“No. Nothing’s wrong. But I need your help. It’s urgent.”

“Nothing’s wrong. And yet you’re calling me at home at five fifteen in the morning. Should I be frightened for you?”

Nadia considered her words. “No. You should be frightened for the other guys.”

“Oh. Oh, dear.”

“I need you to put your glasses on and get a pen and paper.”

“If I didn’t have my glasses on, I wouldn’t know what time it was. Hold on.” The bed creaked. A drawer opened and closed. He took a deep breath and exhaled. Not with exasperation but anxiety. Like a man preparing to take on a crucial assignment. “One of the detriments of bachelorhood is the absence of family. Did I ever tell you that? Now, how can I help you?”

“I need you to find out everything you can about something called the Zaroff Seven. It might be a private club or society of some kind. Ivan Valentin was a member, so it’s Russian, for sure. That’s all I know.”

“I’m getting up now. I have some reference books in the store that might be helpful. And my computer is there. I’ll call you back as soon as I have an answer.”

Afterward, still dressed in overalls with open wounds on her hands, Nadia called Johnny. He answered on the first ring.

“You’re awake,” she said.

“Always. You got my message.”

“Incredible news. Why did the witness change his story? Did he give a reason?”

“His conscience, I guess.”

“That’s incredible news.”

“What about your end?”

Nadia told him what happened at the Priest’s Grotto.

“What can I do to help you from here?” Johnny said.

“Keep your phone on. What about Bobby?”

“He said he’d tell me everything. Which should happen today. But he wanted to see Iryna first.”

Nadia thought for a moment. “He said that? That he’d tell you the truth but he wanted to see Iryna first?”

“Our boy’s in love.”

“Yeah. But he sees her all the time. It makes you wonder. The witness recants. He’s going to tell you the truth. But he wants to see her first.”

“Why? What do you think he wanted to talk to her about?”

“What if I told you the locket did possess a formula,” Nadia said. She could hear her voice trembling. “What if I told you it wasn’t inside the main compartment. What if there’s another compartment, or it’s inscribed or something like that.”

“Where did that come from?”

Nadia told him what Karel said before he was killed. “What if Bobby figured it out at some point?”

“It’s possible.”

“I wonder if that’s what he was talking to Iryna about.”

“Why would he tell her and not you?”

“Because he’s in love. And he has trust issues. We weren’t exactly getting along perfectly. Me needing to build my business. Him needing to be a teenager. The notion he told her and not me pains me to no end. I’d rather not think about it. All I’m saying is we have two agendas now.”

Johnny didn’t answer right away. It was as though she’d lost him.

“Johnny? Two agendas?”

“What? Oh. Right. Two agendas. Yes. Bobby and the locket.”

“Call me as soon as he tells you the truth.”

Nadia took a hot shower and put bandages on the cuts on her hands. Afterward she called room service. She ordered Grandmother’s mushroom broth, Carpathian chicken kebob, and
varenyky
stuffed with poppy seeds for dessert. Guilt gnawed at her conscience after she placed the order—were they even feeding Marko?—but hunger and anxiety prevailed. She drank the broth, ate half the kebob, and polished the dessert plate clean.

An hour later her phone rang. Nadia couldn’t believe Obon had found her answer so quickly. When she glanced at the number calling, however, she didn’t recognize the number.

It was the woman from the Orel Group. The one who had met her with the chauffer at Boryspil Airport.

“Mr. Simeonovich would like to know if you’re available for dinner tonight,” the woman said.

“No,” Nadia said. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m not in Kyiv. I’m in Lviv.”

“Lviv is a short helicopter ride for Mr. Simeonovich. He is twenty minutes away. He would be pleased to pick you up at your hotel at eight p.m. If that is convenient.”

“I’m afraid it’s not—”

“Mr. Simeonovich would like to present you with a check for your services. He also said something about a bonus. Would eight p.m. be convenient?”

The thought of enjoying a gourmet meal while Marko was being held captive didn’t whet her appetite. Still, Nadia thought, if her pursuers called she could excuse herself and leave right away. In the meantime, a client should be shown the proper respect and a girl had to eat.

“Yes,” she said. “Eight p.m. would be fine.”

CHAPTER 46

N
ADIA
’
S CALL SHATTERED
what little inner peace Johnny had managed to find since allowing Victor Bodnar to discover the witness’s identity. There was no doubt about Victor’s motives now. He wanted the locket. That didn’t mean he knew for certain it contained a real formula. Something might have caused him to suspect this was the case. Career criminals had instincts that way. Especially thieves.

Bobby had the locket. Bobby was in prison. The locket was in prison. To get the locket, Victor had to get Bobby out of prison. Thus the offer to help the witness remember what happened the night of the murder. Just as Johnny suspected, the old man was playing him the entire time. Help those who helped him. What a load of crap. He knew it when he heard it.

And yet he still went along with it. For obvious reasons. He wanted Bobby out, too. And as long as the witness was telling the truth—which he seemed to be—Johnny had convinced himself he was within his moral boundaries. Maybe the witness had stretched the truth a bit at Victor’s request and suggested Valentine had drawn his knife first, but that’s probably what happened. Johnny was still an ethical warrior. The underdog defending the underdog.