Mafia Trilogy 03 - The Scythe (4 page)

As John said, what could the cops do? The restaurant was probably legit. The guests inside would order food, eat, and leave. Everything looked as normal as it should be, but Darwin wouldn’t become complacent.

Yuri had to expect trouble if he was harboring Rosina Kostas. She was supposed to be in Florida, tucked away in a safe house, but that safe house was recently attacked and a federal agent was killed and another shot.

Darwin stopped across the street from the restaurant.

Wouldn’t the cops want to talk to Rosina? Get a statement of what happened in Florida?

Why would John say there was nothing the authorities could do?

Unless Rosina wasn’t here and this was all a ruse.

Could John have sold me to the Russians?

Doubt stopped him. He reached back and touched the brass knuckles in his pocket for reassurance. It had been almost two weeks since he’d had to fight. He couldn’t keep risking his life. It made him think of the stitches in his scalp which started to itch.

Won’t they be pissed that I walked out of the hospital?

He smiled as he slipped the brass knuckles on his right hand. It felt good, bolstering his resolve.

He was ready.

He stepped out of the shadows. Two Toronto police officers walked along Queen Street toward Yonge. They would pass the Russian restaurant before Darwin got there.

He waited.

They got closer. To his surprise, they stopped, opened the door of the restaurant and walked inside The Russian Quartet.

“Thank you, God. That’s perfect.”

No one would touch him with cops inside the joint.

He waited for vehicles to pass and hobbled across the road, his legs feeling much better. He just hoped he wasn’t too early and Yuri wasn’t there yet. One of Yuri’s men might recognize Darwin. Would Yuri show up with Rosina if that happened? Probably not.

What does Yuri Pavel look like anyway?
He chastised himself for not asking John such a simple question.

He made it to the window and stopped to peek in past the small white curtain on the inside. The place looked like any other restaurant. A waiter served an older couple halfway down by the end of the bar. Darwin counted ten people, plus the two cops and the waiter. Couples occupied three tables. Three other tables had single men ranging in age from early twenties to fifties. The one in his fifties faced the front of the restaurant reading a newspaper. The bartender was talking to the police officers. They laughed. It looked like one of the cops told a joke.

Near the back was a small stage with speakers and a small drum set arranged in the middle for the performers.

Rosina was nowhere in sight.

She could be in the bathroom, but he doubted it. If Yuri was the man sitting alone reading the newspaper—he actually looked Russian—it was clear he hadn’t come with any sort of security.

Everyone had a plate of food. The waiter walked through a door that appeared to lead into the kitchen. Everything looked absolutely normal, although Darwin had no idea what a traditional Russian restaurant was supposed to look like.

He checked to see if anyone approached on the sidewalk. It was empty but for two men on the other side of the street walking away from him.

Back in the restaurant, one of the cops had disappeared.

Darwin decided to go in, walk toward the back and take a seat in the corner. He would order something small and wait. And watch.

If John’s source was correct, Yuri Pavel would enter the restaurant at any time with Rosina, and Darwin would make his move.

Whatever that is.

The door chimed as Darwin entered the restaurant. The bartender looked his way and nodded, then turned back to the cop.

Darwin wondered if the cops were looking for him. Would John have told anyone where he was heading?

Too late now.

He moved through the tables, past the bar and the cop, making sure the brass knuckles remained hidden behind him, and kept moving toward the back. One of the couples looked up at him as he passed, but no one’s eyes lingered.

The Russian-looking-newspaper-reading old man didn’t stop reading.

At the back, he sat facing the front of the restaurant.

Before the waiter could come to his table, the other cop exited the bathroom, met his partner at the bar and together they headed for the front door.

Good, they’re not here for me.

At the front, the men moved apart. One of them turned off the sign and pulled down thick black shades over the window.

What the hell is this?

Everyone in the restaurant got up and walked toward the front.

What the fuck is going on?

He broke into a full-body sweat.

The couple closest to his table had left their plates piled high, beverages full.

Adrenaline flooded his system. His stomach dropped and his hands shook. He clenched his already sweaty palm tighter on the brass knuckles.

The only person still sitting was the old Russian man, his back to Darwin. The fork clinked against the plate and he continued to eat.

When the shades were pulled down on all the windows, one of the cops locked the front door.

Darwin couldn’t make it past the dozen people congregated near the front if he ran. He hadn’t seen Rosina yet. He didn’t come here expecting this.

How much of this was planned? Did John Cavendish call ahead? That sneaky feeling that John sold him out crept up again.

“It’s a Darwinian world out there, isn’t it?”

The old man set his fork down. Darwin couldn’t tell what the man was eating. The man, who Darwin assumed was Yuri, dabbed at his face with a napkin.

“Come, sit with me. It’ll be easier to talk that way.”

The crowd at the front dispersed. Most of them walked through the doors that Darwin assumed led into the kitchen. The two Toronto cops moved behind the bar where they began to take their shirts off. Both of them dressed in black turtlenecks.

They’re not cops …

“Darwin. Don’t make me ask you again.”

He looked at the back of the man’s head. He had picked his fork up and was now digging into his food again.

Paralysis kept Darwin rooted to the chair. He didn’t want to move until he saw Rosina. He had no idea what to do now.

One of the fake cops walked out from behind the bar. As he did, he pulled a hairpiece off his head and smiled at Darwin. His sleeves were rolled up, displaying an array of tattoos. Darwin recognized him instantly.

Miklos.

The man who attacked Darwin after Darwin had knocked one of Arkady’s soldiers that day in the warehouse.

Miklos was Arkady’s crazy bare-knuckle fighter. Where was Arkady, then? He had to be close.

Miklos approached. “Nice to see you again, Darwin.” He cleared his throat. “Yuri never asks twice for anyone. That is going to cost you.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “We didn’t get to finish what we started in the warehouse.”

Darwin stood and bumped the small table aside with his thigh. It moved a foot and then settled. Miklos stepped even closer, crowding Darwin. He was imposing, exuding violence. Miklos craned his neck sideways, cracked it, flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles too. Then he hopped from his left foot to right and back again.

Before Miklos could take the first punch, Darwin swung his arm up and connected with Miklos’ cheek, the brass knuckles slamming home on solid bone.

The violence oozing off Miklos dropped by half as his skin split and squirted blood. He stepped back and touched his cheek, his eyes wide in surprise. Darwin took the moment to advance and hit him again.

Miklos lost his balance and fell backwards over a table. Darwin pounced, punching him over and over, letting all the pent-up rage out.

Arms grabbed Darwin from behind and lifted him off. He struggled but they held firm. At least three men secured him and lifted him to his feet.

Miklos stayed still on the floor, his face a bloody mess of flesh and ruined bone. Darwin caught a glimpse before he was hauled away and thrust toward Yuri’s table. The brass knuckles were ripped from his bloody hand as the men walked him around Yuri and then turned him to face the man.

Yuri raised his face, still chewing. He set his newspaper on the table by his plate and gestured with his fork at the empty chair. The men pushed Darwin down and let go.

Darwin adjusted himself, righted his shirt and settled into the chair. The three men moved behind the bar. The people who Darwin had thought were patrons had all disappeared except for the three men behind the bar.

Yuri looked back at his plate of pasta and dug in as if Darwin and him were old pals catching up over a bite.

Darwin rubbed his knuckles. Everything was intact. He touched the stitches in his head and was happy to discover they hadn’t popped.

“We have business to discuss,” Yuri said.

Darwin shook his head. “No. We don’t.”

Yuri put his fork down, dabbed at his mouth with a white napkin and leaned back in his chair. He roamed his eyes over Darwin, checking out his shoulders, his arms, and then finally, he met his eyes.

“I was expecting something a little different.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

Yuri’s mouth twitched. It looked like he wanted to smile but decided against it.

“You’ve created quite a name for yourself.”

“How much did you pay Officer Cavendish to sell me out like this? Tell me, how much am I worth?”

“That’s none of your concern. But what is of great fucking importance to you is Rosina.”

Darwin whacked the table with his fists. “Where is she?”

The men behind the bar jumped out and approached. Yuri waved them off.

“If you want to see Rosina alive, you’re going to remain calm and listen. Can you do that? Or would you like to die now?”

Darwin didn’t respond. He removed his hands from the table and placed them at his sides.

“Good.” Yuri moved his plate, setting it on the newspaper. “I have a proposition for you, but first we talk.”

“What kind of proposition?”

Yuri brought up his index finger. “First we talk.” He lowered his head and raised his eyebrows. “Understand?”

“Talk fast.”

The men moved back behind the bar.

“You have somewhere to go?”

“I haven’t killed anyone in a few weeks. I’m getting the itch.”

Yuri pulled out a small box and set it on the table. From inside the box he lifted out a fat cigar. After lighting it, he dropped the box back inside his suit jacket pocket. He puffed the cigar to life and gazed at Darwin through the smoke. “Are you threatening me?”

“No. I’m threatening those three behind the bar. Miklos and I started a fight a few weeks back. I was trying to finish it before they interrupted.”

“I know about that fight. That’s why I brought Miklos here today. I needed to see it for myself. The rumors about you could be all lies.”

“Don’t believe all that you hear. I’m newly married, looking to spend a quiet life with my wife. It’s you and your kind who keep getting in the way.”

“That is too bad.” Yuri dragged on the cigar and blew the smoke sideways. “Was it that shit Cavendish that gave you the brass knuckles?”

“Yes. My turn. Where’s my wife?”

“There are four weapons pointed at you at all times.”

“Where’s my wife?” Darwin asked again, this time louder.

“I have no idea. Probably with Arkady. He’s skipped town.”

Darwin wanted to dive across the table and jam the cigar into one of Yuri’s eyeballs.

“Then who are you?” Darwin asked. “Why are we meeting? Why are you wasting my time?”

“Because I’m the only one who can get you your wife back.”

“How’s that?”

“I want Arkady. Since I believe he has Rosina, and you want her, we have a mutual goal. Arkady won’t kill her if he thinks he can still get to you. At the same time, he won’t walk into a meeting with me. He knows I’ll have him executed for what he has done to my town.”

“Toronto’s your town?”

“Toronto has always been a city that’s too big for one family—until now. Arkady was my last problem. He has hurt the Italians badly and now the Triads. Once he’s gone, Toronto is mine.”

“And you think I want to help you?”

Yuri tapped ashes off his cigar. He gestured at one of the men by the bar. “Two vodkas.”

His attention back on Darwin, he said, “Reason number one, you don’t have a choice. Reason number two, Rosina.”