The Boy Who Stole From the Dead (39 page)

“What happened to the bat?” Johnny said. “The bat you took to Hart Island?”

“I was actually hiding in the dumpster. I needed both hands to get out. To go up and over the top. There was no way I could have moved as fast as I needed to and gotten the bat out. I forgot all about it and left it there.” Bobby took a deep breath and exhaled.

Johnny reflected on what he had just heard for a moment. “So you didn’t have a date with Iryna.”

“No.”

“And that’s why your only call from prison was to her. To tell her to back up your story you were meeting in the Meatpacking District on a date.”

“Yes. To hide the part about Hart Island, for fear someone connected to Valentine from Russia would come after Nadia.”

“Why would you be concerned about that? How did you know Valentine wasn’t just acting on his own?”

“I didn’t. But when you grow up in Ukraine, you understand that powerful men work in packs. There’s never just one of them. They’re all tied together, and they all have connections to the government. So I had to be careful and assume the worst. I had to assume someone else might come after me and my family. And Nadia’s all the family I have.”

The kid sounded sincere. His comments, heartfelt. “I’m going to do my best to keep your real identity a secret,” Johnny said. “Nadia’s been digging into Valentine’s background. If she found any evidence that he was a nutcase, a reckless guy with a history of violence, that’ll help. Where’s the letter you got when you landed on Hart Island?”

“In the Long Island Sound.”

“Good. Let’s review the truth, or our best guess of what it was, and then what we’re going to tell the district attorney. Truth first. Valentine saw your picture or video on the Internet. Probably the Gáborik race in Lasker Park. He went to the hockey game to see you in person. He probably followed you before and knew Iryna was your girlfriend, or maybe he figured it out from Facebook. Maybe he hadn’t talked to his father yet, didn’t have the orders to avenge his mother’s death. He just went to the hockey game angry and lost his cool. Then maybe he spoke with his father on his deathbed. Maybe not. Either way, he accepted responsibility to kill you. Then things got serious. Events occurred the way you described.

“The district attorney doesn’t need to know any of that. All he needs to know is that Valentine hit on Iryna, she told him to take a hike, and he got pissed off. She said number four was her boyfriend, and he confronted you after the game. Why? Because he had that kind of personality. He called you from London and said he would hurt your loved ones if you didn’t agree to meet. You met outside his apartment. He pulled a knife, things got ugly. That part is true, mind you. We won’t get into any of the rest unless it becomes necessary. I’ll bet his boat rentals were cash transactions. He might have had to show ID but there’s no credit card record. No one’s going to find out about them unless they go to the docks looking for them.”

“Will they send me home?”

Johnny detected a strange note of reluctance. “Let’s see what Nadia found out about Valentine. Maybe she learned some things that will help convince the DA he had a volatile personality. You do want to go home, don’t you?”

Bobby dropped his chin. Stared at the floor for a moment. “I don’t deserve to go home. I killed that woman. She was a good person. Not like the other hunters. She wanted to help us. It’s my fault she’s dead. I deserve to go to jail.”

His comment caught Johnny off guard. All this time he’d thought the kid had remained mute strictly to protect Nadia. In fact, his motives were more complex.

“It was an accident,” Johnny said. “Her husband and friends were shooting at you and your girl. The woman was pointing a rifle at you. You did what you had to do. Nothing that happened was your fault. Do you understand me?”

Bobby continued looking at the floor.

“And let me tell you something else. Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

Bobby looked up at Johnny. Guilt shone in his eyes.

“You may be the smartest guy in this room or any other, but that doesn’t mean you’re the wisest. Wisdom comes from suffering. Take it from someone who’s experienced and seen his share. It’s easy to forgive other people because you have no control over their actions. The hardest thing is to forgive yourself because you have control over your actions. You must forgive yourself right now for what you think you did. If you don’t, you’ll be miserable the rest of your life, and you’ll make everyone else miserable, too.”

Bobby thought about this for a moment. Then he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Thanks,” he said. “Thanks for everything.”

“Don’t mention it, kid.”

“How is Nadia? Where is Nadia?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Is she okay?”

“I hope so.” Johnny cleared his throat. “Listen. I have to shift gears for a second. Your freedom is my main focus, I promise you, but Nadia told me to ask and if I don’t she’ll be upset with me.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows.

“The locket,” Johnny said.

The emotion drained from Bobby’s face.

“Nadia got some intelligence in Ukraine that suggests there might be more to it than you all originally thought.” Johnny studied the kid’s expression but he remained inscrutable. “That make any sense to you?”

He kept a straight face.

“Because if it does, and it’s with your personal possessions, it would be good to know ahead of time before you get released.” Johnny considered telling him Victor Bodnar might try to steal it from him, but didn’t want to alarm him yet.

Bobby thought about it for a moment. “Yes, and yes.”

“Yes there might be more to it, and yes it’s in an envelope with your personal possessions?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Then we may have a little bit of a problem—”

“Victor Bodnar.”

Johnny’s jaw dropped. He studied the kid again but he was giving him nothing now. He was his father’s son once again.

“How did you know?” Johnny said.

“Iryna.” Bobby shrugged. “She told me everything without saying a word.”

CHAPTER 56

M
ARKO GOT BEHIND
the wheel. Nadia navigated from memory. She’d travelled on one of the scavenger trails last year in an old Soviet military supply truck.

An alarm sounded once they crossed the main road onto the path that led to the trail. Nadia guessed it was the fire alarm at the power plant. There had to be a fire truck on the premises. Nadia saw flames in the side view mirror coming from the direction of the
babushka
’s house.

Marko drove twenty miles through the woods. They didn’t encounter the driver or the other hunters. They’d abandoned their posts per the General’s instructions. The trail was wide and well-worn by truck tires. Marko spun the wheel to avoid trenches, eased the throttle when the trail wound around trees. The SUV’s suspension absorbed dips, bumps, and sudden turns. They emerged out of the forest on the main road to Chornobyl three miles past the checkpoint. From there it took them a little over an hour to get to Kyiv.

The navigation system was in Russian. It included a directory of destinations. Nadia programmed it to take them to the Intercontinental Hotel. When they got there, they circled the property and parked two blocks away. Wiped down their fingerprints out of paranoia, took Nadia’s luggage, and walked to the hotel. They got one room with two double beds so they could protect each other. Although the General and the rawboned man from Lviv were dead, they assumed they might be at risk out of sheer prudence.

It was 12:07 a.m. by the time Marko posted the do not disturb sign on the door. Nadia checked her e-mail. Obon’s assistant had forwarded the picture of the Zaroff Seven. It was a black and white photo of six men and a woman standing around a large bear. Nadia recognized the General and the rawboned man from Lviv. They looked twenty years younger. Beside them stood Valentin, his hair darker and face fuller. An attractive woman pressed against him, undoubtedly his first wife. Nadia didn’t recognize the remaining three men. Although the General had told her Simeon Simeonovich wasn’t one of them, she still felt relieved he wasn’t in the picture.

New York was seven hours behind. That made it 5:07 p.m. Nadia called Obon and thanked him for the e-mail.

“The other three men are similar in stature to Valentine,” Obon said. “They’re all junior oligarchs, all still alive.”

He read their names to Nadia. She wrote them down but they meant nothing to her. Afterward, she thanked him and hung up. She told Marko what she’d learned.

“The General told us he took this responsibility on himself,” Marko said. “Didn’t sound like the other three were in on it at all.”

“Agreed,” Nadia said.

“And it’ll take some time for them to find out what happened. We should be able to get out of the country.”

“But even if we do, bottom line is there are three more guys out there, who may or may not care about revenge.”

Marko shrugged. “It’s not neat and tidy, is it?”

“No it is not.”

“Life rarely is.”

Nadia called Johnny. She got voice mail but he returned her call immediately. They exchanged updates. Between the two of them, they knew everything now, Nadia thought. Except for one thing.

“What about the locket?” Nadia said.

“He found some markings under the gilding. He thought it might be chemical compounds of some sort.”

“Who else knows?”

“No one.”

“Not even Iryna?”

“He says no.”

“Do you believe him?”

“He told you he’d never lie, didn’t he?”

“Johnny. Do you believe him?”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, without hesitation. “I believe him. Iryna doesn’t know anything. She’s not a concern. When are you coming back to New York?”

“New York. I used to think of it as the rat race. Now it’s sanctuary. I miss it so.”

“It misses you.”

She told him she’d call back with flight information as soon as she had it. After hanging up, she took a shower and fell asleep while Marko watched local news to see if there was a report on the fire in Chornobyl.

At 7:00 a.m. she dialed the cell phone number Simeon Simeonovich had given her. Perhaps he could expedite their departure from the country.

“You didn’t call the office,” he said. “You called my personal cell phone. I don’t say this often. I’m flattered.”

“That makes two of us since you gave me the number in the first place.”

“I’m pleased to hear your voice. Did your trip to Lviv reach a satisfactory conclusion?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

“Good. And did you discover something that might help you with the boy’s case?”

“Yes. I’m optimistic.”

“Outstanding. Then to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“I need to leave Kyiv this morning. I was hoping you might put in a call and ease the way with Immigration.”

Simeonovich paused. “The Orel Group simplifies entry and exit to and from the Independent States for its contractors. Unfortunately, your assignment ended. So it would be inconsistent with our corporate policy for the Orel Group to act on your behalf.”

“Of course.” Nadia cringed. “I shouldn’t have asked. It was unprofessional.”

“But if there were prospects for us to do business again soon, that might change matters.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I’m always considering acquisitions. I’ve been looking at a small coal company in the U.S. The stock has gotten killed. I’m scheduled to be in New York City next week. Would you be interested in discussing it over dinner?”

“I’d have to check my schedule but I might be available.”

“I may need help with the menu.”

“That could possibly be arranged, too.”

“Call my assistant with your flight information. She’ll arrange VIP.” He softened his voice. “Until the day we meet again.”

“Yes,” Nadia said, savoring that familiar electric current over the phone. “Until that day.”

After she hung up, she saw Marko staring at her, head propped up on a pillow.

“Are you going to be dating a Russian guy?” he said.

“No. I’m not dating anyone. I’m going to have a business dinner with him. That’s all.”

“Didn’t sound like business to me. You realize if he steps out of line I may have to kick some ass.”

“Of course.”

He nodded, satisfied. Then turned serious. “And if I didn’t say it, thanks.”

“For what?”

“For coming back for me. You’re a good sister.”

He’d never said anything like that to her. Ever. If she thought about it any more, she feared she’d show her emotions, which was unthinkable. She burst into motion and started packing.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “It was a purely selfish act. If you’re gone, who’s going to protect me?”

“You got that right, Nancy Drew.”

CHAPTER 57