Siren of the Waters: A Jana Matinova Investigation, Vol. 2 (34 page)

She mumbled a “yes” into the phone. It was Trokan.

“What are you doing sleeping?”

“It’s normal to sleep.”

“I let you go to Nice to work on a case.”

As she spoke to Trokan, Jana began to dress. “I’m working on the case.”

“Not wearing an evening gown today?”

“I’m back to being an ugly police officer.”

“I called to welcome you home.”

“I’m not home yet.”

“A friendly reminder. The deadline remains. There will be consequences if you are not back by the time we agreed upon. The French police have also told me you are not being as cooperative as they would like.”

“I’m cooperating. They are just being French.”

“The French say a lot of odd things.”

“How are my blind cats?”

There was a long pause. Jana did not like the pause.

“Tell me,” she ordered, knowing it was bad news.

“Both dead. They died yesterday. No real reason we could see. Just died. I thought about having a veterinarian perform an autopsy, but who ever heard of an autopsy on a cat in Slovakia?”

Jana was silent, trying to absorb the blow. She had grown to love the helpless little things.

“Jana,” barked Trokan, sensing her emotion. “These things happen.”

“I wish they didn’t.”

“We’re adults. We know they do.”

“Yes. Thank you for telling me.”

“I debated whether I should or not. The truth, unfortunately, won out. What is happening there?”

Jana gave him a fairly detailed rundown of the events that had occurred over the last few days, then told him what she planned to do.

“You are sure?” Trokan muttered.

“No.”

“Then why are you going to do it?”

“All of them have surfaced. Now we need to prompt the rest of their actions.”

“You have no control over what they will do.”

“The truth is, we never do.”

“You sound angry about that fact.”

“There are things we get angry about.”

“Good. I consider anger to be a marvelous motivation for all my subordinates. Stay well.”

He hung up.

Jana had breakfast in the hotel restaurant, then went back to her room, expecting a call. An hour later, Jeremy telephoned. He was quite cheerful, the bearer of good news for Jana. Their mutual friend Moira Simmons had talked to Katka. She had been incredibly caring and sympathetic. No, Katka would not come, but wonderful Moira had persuaded his wife to let Jana see her granddaughter. Jana could visit with her for an hour in the late afternoon at La Colline du Chateau, an old park with even older ruins on the top of a small mountain overlooking the Côte d’Azur.

The thought of seeing her granddaughter lifted her depression over the cats’ deaths. Things might work out. At least she could hope they would. Now she would have to keep her end of the bargain.

Jana called the hotel business office for a messenger, then picked up the ledger, idly leafing through it. It was time to use it. Jana wrote carefully worded notes for Moira Simmons, Viktor Levitin, and Inspector Vachon. When the messenger arrived, Jana gave him the ledger with instructions to reproduce two copies, one for Moira and the other for the inspector, then handed over her three notes with explicit instructions on how to deliver them and the two copied ledgers.

The note to Moira Simmons read, “I have kept my end of the bargain.” The note to Uncle Viktor was as terse. “Moira Simmons has obtained the ledger.” The third note, to Inspector Vachon, read, “Here is the Koba ledger. You will hear more in a little while.”

Then Jana decided she had to get out of the room for a walk. The remnants of Carnival were being cleared away, the stands disassembled. The lights that had been hung in celebration were being loaded onto trucks. The Niceans were very quick to clean up their city after Carnival and to welcome a return to sobriety.

Jana watched for a moment as a large papier-mâché lion’s head was set on the street for a moment before being picked up by a crane. Part of its face had been smashed in the dismantling. There was a sad-looking, lopsided grin on the beast now. It looked so woebegone that Jana had a sudden fleeting fantasy that it was still alive, but now forlorn, desolate that its brief span of life was nearly over.

She walked on, looking toward the area by the harbor. Dark gray clouds were moving in from the sea. There would be rain, brief but heavy from the look of it. The Boulevard Jean Jaures was emptier then usual. Perhaps people had anticipated the new storm moving across the city and decided to stay indoors.

For Jana, the breeze that was sweeping in over the water was cold, though not as cold as it had been in Slovakia. The fresh air felt delicious, redolent with the smells of the Mediterranean.

Then she saw the Rolls-Royce sailing down the boulevard. From its direction, Jana assumed its destination was the Negresco. Either Uncle Viktor or Moira Simmons must be behind the dark windows, one or both thinking that they might soon own the world.

They were in for a terrible surprise.

Koba, the legend, had not lasted as long as he had by being careless. Largess was not part of the man’s makeup. He guarded the keys to his empire carefully. The ledger would not come free.

Jana eyed the dark clouds that were nearly overhead now. When it broke, the storm would be a big one.

L
ate that afternoon, idly watching the rain from her hotel-room window, Jana received a phone call from Inspector Vachon, summoning her to the Negresco. There had been another crime, and the inspector wanted her opinion. Jana took a cab from the taxi stand near her hotel, riding through the pouring rain to the Negresco. Inspector Vachon’s adjutant met her in the lobby, then accompanied her to a deluxe suite on an upper floor.

There were police, forensic personnel, and medical staff all over the huge suite. It was immediately clear that they were performing their assigned tasks in the investigation of a murder.

Jana was taken through the anteroom into the large living room. Levitin was seated in a wing chair, his tall body slumped in resignation, his face bleak. Across from him was Vachon, who looked up from his notes as Jana was led into the room.

A few meters behind the inspector was a plastic-blanket-covered body on the floor. From the foot and shoe that protruded, it was a man. No one was paying any attention to the corpse, so Jana assumed they were through with their preliminary examination. The inspector waved her to a nearby love seat.

“Coffee for Commander Matinova,” he ordered a nervous hotel employee. The man quickly fixed a small silver tray with coffee and accompaniments and brought it to her. Levitin appeared to pay no attention, staring fixedly ahead, clearly miserable.

Jana sipped at her black coffee for a moment, waiting for the inspector, who had gone back to his notes. He finally looked up.

“Viktor Levitin was murdered.”

She thought about it. “I do not think it will be a loss to the world.”

“His two bodyguards were also killed.”

“I have similar feelings about them.”

“One of them is behind me, on the floor. The other is in the bedroom with Viktor. Investigator Levitin informs me that Viktor Levitin was his uncle.”

“Not a kindly uncle.”

Vachon waved a hand, as if to say “That’s the way things are in the world.” He thought for a moment.

“The person who killed him was not kind either. Whoever murdered Viktor Levitin also cut off his testicles and stuffed them in his mouth. Judging by the bleeding from this wound, he was probably alive at the time. A rather dreadful way to die, wouldn’t you say?”

“In my experience, there is no pleasant way to die, Inspector.”

Levitin finally looked up. “He liked beating up women. He was not a man. So his balls were superfluous.”

“You didn’t like your uncle?” Vachon asked.

“Once. Not now.”

The inspector nodded. “Still and all, a bad death.” He shifted uneasily in his seat, a thoughtful look on his face. “Whoever the murderer was, I do not think I would like to meet him in a lonely place without a pistol in my hand.”

“I would suggest that you have a bullet in the chamber of the gun with the safety off and the hammer of the weapon cocked as well,” Jana interjected.

“Thank you for the good advice.” The inspector darted another glance at his notes. “I understand you and Mr. Levitin, the murdered man’s nephew, met him the other day?”

“Yes.”

“Viktor Levitin was, as you have noted, a singularly vicious man. A sadist.” To Dmitri: “Do you have any idea where Sasha Levitin, your sister, has gone? She was registered at this hotel. She checked out late last night.”

Dmitri Levitin sighed, rolling his head on his neck as if working out sore muscles. “She was in the hospital when I saw her last. I went to visit her there. She had left. There was no address or other contact information.”

Jana took another sip of her coffee, then set it aside and stood. “May I see the bodies, Inspector?”

“I always appreciate another professional’s opinion, Commander Matinova.” He pointed to the door people were going in and out of, the entry to the master bedroom.

Jana walked into the room, taking a brief moment to look around. One of the bodyguards was crumpled on the floor, his face against the wall, a pool of blood surrounding him. Viktor Levitin lay on the bed, his arms and legs tied to the bedposts, gagged. The man had been ugly in life; he was even worse in death.

Jana walked back into the living room and took her seat again, nodding to the inspector.

“Anything you care to tell me?” he asked.

“I think so. I saw a scene like this recently in the Strasbourg area. A mutilation was involved, although not this one. The killing took place in the man’s house. His bedroom, in fact. I would check with the police there. There was also another murder in that city at about the same time, a man named Tutungian. His tongue was cut out. That one is probably connected as well.”

The inspector winced. That meant two more murders he had to investigate, along with old Mrs. Lermentov’s death.

“And did you investigate those murders also, Commander Matinova?”

“I was an observer, Inspector.”

“Mr. Levitin as well?”

“Yes,” Levitin said. He straightened in his chair. “I think you should talk to Koba or Moira Simmons.”

“The murderers?”

“Or the people who ordered the murders.”

“Where can I find Moira Simmons?”

“I don’t know,” Levitin answered.

“Have you checked with the EU, Inspector?” Jana inquired. She did not mention Foch’s diary, which contained Moira’s phone number.

“I will check with them now. And also with this hotel, just in case.” He gestured at the aide who had accompanied Jana. The man went to the room phone and dialed the desk.

“I will want a complete description of this woman.”

“She worked for the EU. They will have it.”

Vachon made another few notes on his pad.

“So?” he asked the aide.

“Viktor Levitin was registered at the hotel. Ms. Simmons was never a guest. They know nothing about her. The EU personnel department will get back to us. It will take a little time.”

“I believe she has a local place,” Jana interjected.

Vachon nodded at the aide, telling the man to follow up on this information.

Jana considered telling the inspector to call Katka and Jeremy, who probably knew how to reach Simmons; then thought better of it. She could not bring them into this, not just when she was about to meet her grandchild. If the inspector still needed it, she would ask the two for Moira Simmons’s contact information, then give it to the inspector without involving them. As to her meeting with Moira, now was not the time to tell him about it. She would not say anything that might interfere with seeing Katka and little Daniela.

The inspector looked over to Levitin, the same question on his face. Levitin followed Jana’s lead.

“I have no inkling of where this lady is hiding.”

“You think she is in hiding?”

“If she has not committed these murders, I think she wouldn’t like whoever did to find her.” He slowly eased out of his chair. “I need to inform my country about my uncle’s death. Then I have to call my relatives and let them know.” He went to a corner of the room, using his cell phone to make the calls.

“Commander Matinova,” the inspector began, “I think you are a good detective, and a very nice person, but you seem to have a close affinity to murderers and their victims. Personally, for my sake, and for that of the other police in this country, I’d like you out of this business.”

“I’ll think about your suggestion, Inspector.”

“Thank you, Commander. When I get the information from the EU, I would like you to come down to the station for additional questions.”

“I will answer any and all questions you have for me, Inspector.”

His old smile flashed across his face.

“Thank you for being a professional. You’re free to go, Commander.”

Jana left. Levitin was still talking earnestly into his cell phone.

J
ana walked to the city’s old quarter on the shore of the Baie des Anges. There was an elevator at the foot of the Colline du Chateau which would have taken her to the summit of the hill, but Jana decided to climb up the long flight of steps to the top. She had come early, and the physical activity helped suppress her anxiety at the prospect of meeting her granddaughter.

As she climbed, she paused to view the harbor. This time, the fabled blue of the sea did not excite her. In her mind’s eye, the little girl looked like Katka before Jana had sent her out of Slovakia. Would she see her daughter in the little girl? Would there be love there?