Cervena (16 page)

“He’s dead. Karel’s dead. Someone shot him. It says ‘execution-style.’ What the fuck had he got himself into, Sasha? Huh?” I covered his hand with mine and squeezed his fingers until he let out a hiss of pain. I released him quickly.

“I’m sorry, Joel.” He moved closer and pressed his body against my side, sliding his arm around my neck. “I know he was a jerk, but he was your friend once.”

“I shouldn’t care after what he did. But I feel like I ought to have done something. He came to me asking for help. He looked pathetic, didn’t he? Like he had no other choice.”

“Joel….” Sasha dropped to his knees and rested his hands on my thighs. “You couldn’t have helped him. He must have owed a lot of money. The same as before. Maybe you could have saved him this time, but it seems like he couldn’t stop, or didn’t want to. It wasn’t your problem. You could have lost everything to him, and that’s wrong.”

“Yeah. I know.” I leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “You’re right. What would it have achieved if I gave him money? He had the sale money from his half of the club. That wasn’t peanuts. I mean, it was a lot. If he lost that and ran up more debts—”

“Do they know who did it? Who killed him?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t read any further.” I scrolled down and skimmed over the rest of the article, but the police apparently had no leads and were investigating Karel’s recent activities in an attempt to find clues. I expected I would hear from the police myself before long, but there wasn’t much I could tell them. I didn’t know who Karel had played cards with, or what he’d been doing.

The news made me nauseous, and ruined my mood for the rest of the night. I was relieved when the bachelors and the other clubbers left. I couldn’t wait to get home, and I needed some time alone. Sasha wanted to be there for me, but I had to have my own space for a while.

“Do you mind if I go home alone tonight?” I pulled Sasha into my arms and held him close. “I’m not very good company right now.”

“I don’t mind you not being good company,” Sasha murmured against my neck.

“I know. I just have a lot to think about. I need to be on my own for a little while.” I stroked his back and brushed my lips against his ear, hoping to show him it wasn’t that I was rejecting him.

“It’s all right. I understand.” He pulled back and met my eyes. “You do know I’m here for you, though. Right?”

“Yes, I know. I love you.” I pressed my lips to his, before I drew away with a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. I love you too.”

I left him reluctantly, my dark mood descending again as soon as I climbed into a taxi.

My phone rang at noon the next day and I wasn’t surprised the police wanted to talk to me on a Sunday, given the circumstances. The officers invited themselves to my apartment, and I greeted a policeman of around my age and a young female officer. I told them everything I could—my discovery that Karel was in trouble when I returned from England, my buying him out of his share of the club, his visit to me two weeks earlier, asking me for more money, and his attempt to sell the club behind my back. I included brief details about the changes to the running of the club, but obviously avoided mentioning the prostitutes. There seemed no point in bringing that up. No one had ever complained or reported the fact, and I’d only be hurting myself to admit to it now.

“And you didn’t give him any money?” the female officer asked.

“No, I didn’t. He’d hurt me personally and professionally. I didn’t trust him, and I didn’t feel I owed him anything. I suspected he’d only use the money to gamble again.”

“Have you any idea who he played with? Did he mention any names?”

“No.” I shook my head. “The first time we discussed it he said he’d been to a casino. He met some people who organized private card games and he got in trouble with them. That’s all. He didn’t say with whom, or where, or anything like that.”

There wasn’t much more to the meeting. The officers asked me to let them know should anything else come to mind, or if I heard anything, and the policeman gave me his card. When they left I called Sasha and asked him to come over. Suddenly I needed him and couldn’t wait to have him in my arms.

Sasha spent the rest of the day with me. We barely spoke when he arrived, but when I tugged him into my arms, he extricated himself without a word and led me into my bedroom. He seemed to know what I needed, and he did everything. He removed my clothes piece by piece, stripped himself, and used his hands and mouth to drive me almost to the point of orgasm. Just as I thought I’d lose control and shoot into his mouth, he moved away, grabbed the lube, and prepared himself for me. It was only when I was inside him with his arms and legs wrapped around me that I relaxed properly and told him how much I loved him.

Later we went to the club, and Sasha headed up to his studio while I spent some time in the small office Karel had used. I’d cleared it out when he’d gone, but now I went over it with a fine-tooth comb, turning out drawers and looking through files to see if I could find any clue as to whom he’d become involved with, but there was nothing. I hadn’t really expected to find anything, but I’d wanted to be sure.

What a waste of a life. Karel had thrown away everything for his gambling addiction. He had no one to arrange his funeral or sort out his personal belongings. He’d never settled down, much like me before I’d met Sasha, but had flitted from one young man to another in an effort to convince himself he was irresistible and admired. Shaking my head, I pushed myself up from the desk and left the room.

Other than a small article in the newspaper a few days later, repeating that Karel had been murdered and was now to be buried, I heard nothing more officially. The dancers and staff at the club gossiped constantly about Karel getting himself killed over a gambling debt. I kept out of it and let them talk until they grew bored and forgot about it. Karel was gone, and there was no point dwelling on it anymore. But the Saturday after his death I was forced to confront it all over again.

I spent part of the evening propping up the bar, sampling another new cocktail Sasha had created. He and two of the other bar staff spent most of their evening making this drink, as men ordered it as if it was the only chance they’d get. The combination of liquor and tropical fruit juices was delicious, and I drank three of them myself. It was unusual for me to indulge in cocktails, and I felt pleasantly fuzzy.

“Joel Jones?” The low almost guttural voice came directly in my left ear and I startled, making my stool wobble. I turned to look at the speaker and met the eyes of a tall slender man with dark hair, an angular face, and thick lips. Frowning, I tried to recall if I’d seen him before, but he wasn’t familiar to me.

“Yes?”

“Where can we talk?”

“Do you want to tell me who you are first?” I raised my eyebrows, wishing I’d stopped at two cocktails. My words slurred a little, and if this was a new client wanting to arrange something, I needed to be on top of my game. I gestured at Sasha and mouthed “water” to him. In a second a bottle of spring water appeared on the bar in front of me, cap removed. Sasha stayed close as I gulped some, and I didn’t miss the way the stranger’s eyes darted to Sasha and then back to me.

“Friend of yours?”

“What do you want?” I countered. I waved Sasha away as a sense of unease filled me. This didn’t seem like a client; someone who might want to arrange a party night, or even book up the whole club the way a few people had in the past.

“You might not want me to tell you in front of all these nice people.”

A prickle of alarm crawled up my spine as I slid off my stool. With everything that had happened lately, I couldn’t help wondering if this man was something to do with Karel.

“Follow me.” I moved away from the bar, considering going to my office. Maybe not such a good idea. I’d be better off where I could be seen. Instead I led the way up to the private rooms. The second door was open and I stepped through, waiting for the visitor to join me before I closed the door. Now I’d be visible on the monitor in the security office and one of the men would be up here in seconds if anything should happen. I relaxed marginally and faced the man, having to look up a couple of inches to meet his eyes.

“Your friend owes my boss a sum of money.”

“Which friend? Who are you?” I pretended confusion, wanting to make him confirm we were talking about Karel.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. Call me a messenger. I refer to your friend Doubrava. Your partner.”

“Karel’s no friend of mine and we ceased to be partners some time ago. Maybe you haven’t heard, but he died two weeks ago.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “As his
partner
, my boss suggested I have a little chat with you. Doubrava left a debt of almost fifteen million korunas, including interest. In our line of work, a debt does not die with the person owing. This debt falls to the family. As Doubrava apparently has no family, the next closest person must pay. This is you.”

“That’s ridiculous! I’ve had nothing to do with Karel for the past few weeks and I certainly have no responsibility for his debts.”

“I’m afraid you do. The boss says so.”

“I don’t have fifteen million.” My mouth had gone dry and I resisted the urge to lick my lips and reveal my fear. I doubted this
messenger
would do anything to me, but I worried if I didn’t comply I’d be the next body found with a bullet in the back of its head. I could call that police officer, the one whose business card was in my office. They probably dealt with situations like this all the time. The messenger smiled thinly and raised an eyebrow. His next words indicated he’d guessed where my thoughts were headed.

“I think you can find it.” He gestured around him, indicating the club. “I wouldn’t call the police either, if I were you. I have followed you a few times this week. You’re fucking the cute Russian bartender, I believe. You look at him like he means something to you. I’m sure he’s important enough for you to keep this business to yourself. You wouldn’t want to lose him.”

My stomach turned over and my knees wobbled, no longer anything to do with the alcohol I’d consumed. I clenched my fists in an effort to stop my hands shaking, and pressed my lips together to suppress their tremble. These people meant business. It had been obvious from the moment Karel was found, but I hadn’t really thought at the time they’d come after me. Threatening Sasha scared me more than if it were me in danger.

“We’ll be in touch with details. The payment will be made electronically to an untraceable account.”

“I t-told you, I don’t have that k-kind of money.” I cursed my trembling voice, but I couldn’t help it. The messenger smiled.

“This place must be worth, what? Thirty million? Maybe more as the business it has become. You have another source of income too. Apartments, one of which you live in, correct? Be happy this little settlement won’t leave you destitute.” He opened the door. “You will receive a phone call.” With that, he walked away.

“Fuck!” I moved a step to my left and collapsed onto the chair used by customers while receiving private dances. I gripped the arms of the chair so hard my knuckles turned white, and despite the noise from the club now booming in through the open door, the chatter of my teeth was audible. I hung my head, taking deep breaths as I tried to think of a way out of this. I couldn’t call the police. That man and his “boss” wouldn’t punish me for it, because I had the money and they knew it. They’d hurt Sasha.

Chapter Eleven

I LOST
track of how long I sat there. Eventually, Gabriel came in with a customer, and I jumped to my feet.

“I’m sorry, Joel. Should I leave?” Gabriel looked up at me while his client shuffled awkwardly, glancing at the door.

“Of course not. I’ll get out of your way.” I gave the other man a brief nod and exited, closing the door behind me.

Rather than return to the bar, I made my way to my office and locked myself in. Switching on the computer, I spent some time checking over my bank accounts and working out how much money I had readily available. I had nowhere near as much as I was being asked for, but I could probably find it by borrowing against either the club or the condos. Angry and frustrated, I turned off the computer and slammed my fist onto the desk. Karel was still causing me problems from beyond the grave. Fury filled me as I considered handing over my hard-earned money to people he owed, after everything he’d already taken from me.

I opened the drawer where I’d tossed the police officer’s business card, and for a moment I almost picked up the phone and called him. But what could I tell him? All I had was a description of the messenger. I didn’t know who he was working for, where they came from, or anything else. They could be watching Sasha even now, waiting to see what I would do. Maybe the police could protect him and maybe they couldn’t. I rose from the desk and unlocked the door. There seemed to be no option for me other than to pay up.

After entering the club, I hovered in a corner and watched Sasha work. His slender body moved gracefully, stepping around Kris to grab a spare shaker, stooping to take fresh juice from the refrigerator. He flitted from one customer to another, leaning across the bar to take their orders and making the cocktails with flair and a smile on his face. My pulse quickened as he lifted both arms above his head to vigorously shake whatever he was mixing. His T-shirt rode up, exposing a narrow strip of pale flesh above the waistband of his black jeans. For a moment I wondered if they’d leave him alone if we broke up—if I made it known I didn’t care about him after all. Maybe then he’d be safe, but I couldn’t hurt him like that, with my rejection. I’d be hurting myself too, and it had been so long since I’d felt what I felt now—alive. I dismissed the idea in seconds and walked slowly to the bar.

I didn’t intend to tell Sasha what was going on. I didn’t want him to worry, and I didn’t want to run the risk of anyone else finding out. The position I was in seemed impossible. I’d seen movies with similar situations in them, and the outcome was often dire when the victim tried to deal with things the
right
way. This wasn’t a movie, but the situation was the same. If I didn’t pay, Sasha would be hurt, no matter how much I tried to prevent it. Karel’s demise left me in no doubt about that.