Authors: Michael Genelin
The man Jana had shot, who was likely to die, had been identified by his passport. He was an American. This did not make the colonel feel any better. American diplomats were notorious for demanding quick explanations, and Trokan was in no mood to deal with their complaints. On the other hand, the incredibly vast computerized records the Americans kept should yield quick information as to his identity.
After reading a summary Jana had prepared, Trokan suggested that they provide a bodyguard for her. Jana turned the suggestion down. He next urged her to take a vacation out of the country. She had too much work, she explained; besides, the case was now coming together. And they had the injured man in the hospital to interview. That would mean more information. Ten minutes later, Trokan received a call from the police officer stationed at the ICU. The American had died.
Trokan mumbled a few incoherent syllables under his breath, then told Jana to go home until he informed her that she could come back to work. Trokan had some explaining to do to the minister, and it would be better if she was beyond reach.
She walked back to her office, passing Seges, who looked altogether too smug. The word must have swept through the office that she had been involved in a shooting, and he seemed to think Jana was in trouble. Jana imagined unpleasant things happening to him, then grabbed her bag and drove home.
J
arov was sitting on the front steps of her house, ostensibly unconcerned as to whether the neighbor across the street noticed that he was watching her. Jana was too tired to reprimand him. She carried her bag inside the house, dumped it on her bed, then went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of coffee. Jarov followed her.
“I needed some sun, so I thought a little tanning session on the front porch would be nice.” His expression told Jana he was putting her on. “Don’t you think I look better when I’m not so pale?”
This was not the rough-edged Jarov that Jana knew. She put the coffeepot down and stared at him. No question, the man was teasing her.
“Okay, game over,” she said. The Cheshire-cat look on his face confirmed her perceptions. He had new information. “I suppose I get Twenty Questions. If the listening devices are still in this house, you’re not worried about them. Which gives me the answer to the question I haven’t asked: the miscreants who bugged my home came by last night and took their equipment out of the house across the street.”
Jana went on without waiting for a response from Jarov. “You followed them when they left. You know where they stored everything. Which means you have information as to their vehicle, the place where they stored the materials, and maybe, if you followed them farther, as to where they’re staying. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been sitting on the steps.”
Jana was enjoying herself for the first time today. “I guess I’ve already won our game. Do you want coffee?”
Jarov’s jaw fell somewhere around his ankles.
Jana made enough coffee for both of them.
“They must also have removed the listening devices from this house. I was out of town, so they felt they could come and go freely.” She finished preparing the coffee and then took two cups from the cupboard. “Which finally brings me to a question you should be able to answer: Where did you hide when they came into the house?”
“The closet in the bedroom.” He reddened slightly, the recollection of hiding in a woman’s bedroom closet discomfiting him. “I had no alternative,” he tried to explain. “Otherwise I might have given everything away.”
“Everything,” she agreed, smiling at his embarrassment. “And where did they go?”
“To a business on Obchodná.”
“Were there two men in the car?”
“Yes.”
“Did one of them have his face or head bandaged?”
Jarov realized that Jana was emphasizing that he had long ago lost their Twenty Questions game.
“Yes.”
Jana knew the name of the business.
“The store has a sign in front that advertises ‘Antiques from the Golden Ages,’ correct?”
Jarov couldn’t keep his admiration from showing.
“Were you following me while I was following them?” he asked.
“I was in Vienna. You know that.” Jana had to fight the temptation to continue the game, then decided to take pity on him. “A man involved in the case is named Giles. Another suspect is Spis, his bodyguard. Giles owns Golden Antiques.”
Jana poured coffee for both of them, trying to sort out the confusing details. There had to be two groups. One had tried to kill her that morning. The other belonged to Giles. Otherwise, why would he have bugged her house? Then there were the killings of the smugglers. No question, the key to the entire mess was the nature of the items being smuggled.
Ivan Boryda was working on the Slovak fission program with the IAEA. Could they be into smuggling parts of atomic weapons, shopping them to various countries? It would be an incredibly lucrative business. Every nation in the world that did not have atomic weapons wanted them. But these packages that were being smuggled were not heavy, nor extraordinarily big. Jana shook her head, trying to clear the fantasies out. This one was too complex and too farfetched. She dismissed the notion.
“Can I go?” Jarov inquired. “I’ve been up all night.”
“Have you talked to the woman across the street?”
“Not yet. No time.”
“Go home and sleep for a few hours. Then get a statement from her. She will lie at first. If you push her, she will break. Watch out for her husband; he likes to fight. My guess is that they paid her money, which she has kept in the house so the tax man won’t get a chunk. Confiscate it. And find a photograph of Giles and Spis at the station and have her identify them.”
Jarov left just as the phone rang. Jana answered it, thankful that the listening devices had been removed. It was Daniela.
“Hello, Grandma Jana.”
After the tension Jana had been subjected to, the day was swiftly redeemed by a simple telephone call.
“Daniela, it’s lovely to hear from you. Are you in Switzerland?”
“Yes. We’re still in Geneva.”
“Has Grandma Mimi let you call me?”
“Oh, no. She’s still mad at you. I just decided to call.”
Jana felt some of her joy drain away. If and when Mimi found out about the call she would blame Jana, further straining their relationship. Since there was nothing Jana could do about it, she decided to continue her conversation with Daniela and enjoy the moment.
“I’m sorry she’s still angry. I’m not angry at Grandma Mimi.”
“I know, Grandma Jana. I just wanted to tell you how much I liked going to see where Charlie lived.”
“Even if the statue was not like him?”
“It was like him enough.”
“I’m glad. I hoped you were not too frightened by what happened.”
“I felt sorry for the man who was hurt.”
“So did I.”
“I called for another reason, Grandma.”
“What’s the other reason, Daniela?”
“I think we’re leaving here.”
Were they going back to the United States already? It felt wrong. The family had not been in Geneva as long as Jana understood they’d planned to stay. Daniela’s grandfather could not have completed his work. Daniela was also in school there. Why would they take her away from her studies at this time?
“I had hoped to see you before you went, Daniela. I’m disappointed.”
“I wanted to see you also, Grandma Jana.”
If she could talk to Mimi again, maybe Jana could persuade her to let her see her grandchild before they actually left.
“Maybe I will be able to see you before you go.”
“We’re leaving today. We’re in a big rush.”
A rush suggested a crisis.
“Is everyone okay? Was anyone in the family hurt? Was there an accident?”
“I think it had to do with what happened the day before yesterday, at school.”
“What happened at school, Daniela?”
“A man and a woman came to pick me up. They said they were from Grandma Mimi, and that Grandma had been hurt, so they had been sent to get me. But the school wouldn’t let me go. The school told Grandma Mimi, and she was upset.”
A chill went through Jana.
They
had gone after her granddaughter. There was no doubt as to why they had tried to take Daniela. It was to get at Jana, a way to stop her from going forward. Maybe their failure to get Daniela had impelled them to try to kill her today.
“Is Grandma Mimi there with you?”
“In my bedroom, packing for me.”
“Daniela, I want you to bring Grandma Mimi to the phone so I can talk to her.”
“She’ll be mad that I called you.”
“She’ll be mad at me, not you. It’s important, Daniela. Tell her I told you that it’s absolutely imperative that I talk to her.”
“What does imperative mean?”
“It means she has to come at once.”
“Okay, Grandma Jana.”
There was a thump as the phone was laid on a table. A minute later, the receiver was picked up.
“You were not to call here! Why are you calling?” was Mimi’s opening salvo. “I don’t want you to talk to or see Daniela. Do you hear me?” There was a note of hysteria in Mimi’s voice.
“I heard about the attempt to take Daniela from school. It may happen again. Leaving Geneva may not stop attempts to take her. You have to guard her very closely, at least until you hear from me. Do you understand what I just said?”
There was a frightened silence on the other end of the phone. Then a faint “yes” came through the receiver. “It’s connected to what happened to that man in Vevey, isn’t it?”
“Yes, more of the same,” Jana confirmed.
“Who are they?”
“Criminals.”
Again there was silence that lasted so long, Jana thought Mimi had walked away. Then there was a sigh on the other end of the line.
“We’re going back to America.”
Jana’s voice took on additional urgency. “That may not be enough, Mimi. You have to place a guard on her; the administrators at her school in the States must be made aware of the problem. We can only relax when these people are stopped. And, they can only be stopped here, by me. Do you understand, Mimi?”
There was no audible response, just faint breathing.
“It’ll be over soon, if that’s any help,” Jana assured her. “But you can’t ease up on your precautions until I call and tell you. So please say you understand. She’s my grandchild as well as yours.”
This silence was even longer. Then Mimi pulled herself together. “I understand!”
“I’ll call!” Jana emphasized. “Please tell Daniela that I love her. And I’m as sorry as I can be that this happened. I never conceived of the possibility that anyone would go so far as to try to harm my grandchild. Thank you, Mimi.”
Jana hung up.
Nothing was as it should be.
Things had taken a turn for the worse.
J
ana was in a deep sleep, dreaming that a group of ferocious bears with huge claws and giant teeth were chasing her across an ice-covered lake where there was no place to hide, when the persistent banging on her bedroom window woke her up. She slipped her gun from under her pillow, went to the window, and tried to awaken fully before she slid the drape aside. When she did, Trokan’s face popped into view. Jana opened the window.
“You sleep like a dead woman,” he said. “I’ve been trying to rouse you for five minutes.”
Snow fell around Trokan. His cap was already covered, and the wind kicked up flurries. Although he was in full winter uniform, he had to slap himself to keep warm.
“What are you doing out there?”
“Attempting to get a Slovak commander of police to do her job. So if the sleeping princess would get dressed and meet me outside, ready for duty, I would appreciate it. Wear your uniform.”
He stepped away from the window and out of Jana’s vision. She brushed her teeth, tried in vain to fix her hair, hurriedly dressed in the warmest clothes she could fit under her uniform, and was out the door and inside Trokan’s car within minutes. The driving snowflakes obscured the windshield even though the wipers were going at top speed.
“Asking me to come out on a night like this is beyond the call of duty. Why didn’t you just telephone?”
“The last I heard, your phones were being tapped. I have to be sure that our activities aren’t monitored.”
“They took out the bugs while I was in Vienna.”
“Good for them. Please tell me, then, why is the bug in my office still active?”
“I would say that there are a lot of people who want to know what we’re doing.”
“Which is why I came to your house rather than telephoning you. Who knows where the listening devices are?” He rapped the steering wheel with the palm of his hand in anger. “How do you figure out who is on which side these days? The police are the ones who are supposed to be doing the eavesdropping. They’re not meant to be the objects of surveillance. This is crazy-making.”
“Even crazier when my colonel comes to pick me up in the middle of the night in a snowstorm, then doesn’t tell me why or where we’re going.”
“We’re going to the hospital to interview the American you shot.”
Jana eyed Trokan cautiously. “Colonel Trokan, I was in your office when you learned that the American had
died.
”
Trokan broke into a sly smile. “I set up that call. Whoever’s listening thinks the thug is dead. If he’s dead, he can’t talk. Therefore, they have no reason to kill him. Hence, Trokan and Matinova will have some quiet time with the gentleman who tried to end your career. If they are bold enough to infiltrate our office, get into our jail and help a prisoner escape, and also to try to kill a commander of police in broad daylight, then they would think nothing of eliminating this man.” He kissed the back of his hand in mock appreciation of himself. “Oh, Trokan, you sly devil. When you’re gone, will there ever be anyone else like you?”
He reached into the back seat, grabbed a folder, and dropped it in Jana’s lap.
“Courtesy of the USA’s marvelous system of record-keeping.”
Jana began going through the papers in the file as Trokan chattered on.
“They identified him through their tattoo database. Can you believe they have voluminous records of people’s tattoos? He turns out to be a longtime criminal. The usual: a swamp creature, predisposed to violence, involved in organized crime. His only conviction was for passing counterfeit money which had been printed in Korea. The Korean counterfeits show that he has some international connection.”
“If the money was printed in Korea, they would need a means to smuggle the money into other countries.”
“You think this ring is smuggling counterfeit money into countries around the world?”
“Maybe. The packages were described as of various sizes, which might mean differing amounts in each shipment, or else different goods. I think we must ask the patient what’s inside those packages. You asked me to wear my uniform. Do you have a strategy in mind?”
“It’s a biological necessity for every officer who has reached my exalted position in the police to be sneaky, underhanded, cunning, and devious. I’ve been thinking about this all day, which means it will be extremely underhanded. The man you shot never went past elementary school. All he knows is what he’s learned on television in the United States. This means, to him, it will be credible that in places like Slovakia we routinely execute people.”
“He thinks we may kill him, so we play on his survival instinct?”
“Correct.”
“Am I the good police officer or the bad one? It’s always a challenge to be the good one.”
“I don’t speak English well enough to be the good police officer. There’s another factor: when a woman is sympathetic, they think it’s sincere. No one ever trusts men.”
“I wonder why.”
Jana reviewed the folder, which contained the man’s history. He had spent his entire life preying on the weak and innocent. If there was a heaven and a hell, when he died he would go directly to hell. There’d be no mourning; there’d be no tears. Everyone would breathe easier. He was the type of man who would be sent to kidnap her granddaughter. And if they didn’t like Jana’s reaction to the kidnapping, he would be one of those delegated to kill the little girl, and he’d do it without hesitation.
Jana’s anger at the man grew as they got closer. He was an abomination on the earth. If they tried to play good cop/bad cop, he would see right through their ploy. Any threat to him had to be real. Jana had to convey that she was prepared to act. And then she had to act.
It took nearly the rest of the journey to the hospital for Jana to convince Trokan that his plan wouldn’t work. When she had finally convinced him, she called ahead, giving one of the officers stationed at the hospital detailed instructions. As they walked toward the hospital room, the two waiting uniformed officers saluted. There was an empty wheelchair next to them.
“You’re sure this is what you want to do?” Trokan asked.
“I’m sure. It will be the only thing he’ll respond to.”
“It can go very wrong. Be careful, Janka.”
“Sometimes more than care is needed.”
Jana entered the room by herself. Trokan stayed outside to instruct the officers on exactly what was expected of them.
The man lay in bed, shackled to the metal frame. He eyed Jana as she checked his chart. Her shot had caught him in the collarbone, breaking it; ricocheted down, miraculously missing the lung; and broken a rib. Fortunately for him, the bullet had remained intact. It had been easily extracted.
The man’s eyes followed her. The anesthetic from the operation had worn off. He was aware of where he was and certainly aware that Jana was a police officer.
She sat in a chair near the head of the bed.
“You’re very lucky,” she told the man in English. “The bullet should have killed you.” Jana had brought a folder with her. She consulted it, then asked, “Your name is Adonis?”
“Whatever you want to call me.”
“And you have nothing to say?”
“Not a thing.”
“You’re sure?”
He didn’t answer.
“If you have nothing to say to me, then there’s no reason to keep you alive.”
Jana looked the man over. “Adonis, I need to get some information from you so we know what to do . . . after this is over. Your next of kin? We generally cremate.” She pulled out her notebook. “I don’t need much. We know almost everything else about you.”
“Whoever shot me got the wrong man.”
“Then why did you have a gun? And why did you fire?”
“Who said I fired a gun?”
“I did. I was a witness.”
Adonis looked at her more closely but still did not recognize her.
“You’re a bad shot,” Jana said. “You failed. There is no room for failure in your job. All sides want to kill you now.”
“I don’t know anything about ‘sides.’”
“There’s only a short time before you’re executed. We would like to know where we should send the remains. Of course, I’d also like to know details surrounding the attempt to kill me.”
He laughed. “Next you tell me I’m going to be taken down to the cellar, tied to a chair, and shot once in the back of the head. Piss off.”
Jana smiled without humor.
“In this country, when a police officer is shot at, there is always retribution.”
The man stared at her, not quite comprehending.
“I’ve been delegated to kill you. You’re looking in the face of death. My face. I assure you, you’ll soon be dead.”
The man stared at her, unblinking, expressionless.
“My name is Jana Matinova. You tried to murder me.”
Jana could see his reaction. Adonis’s expression changed: he realized he was alone in a room with the woman he’d tried to kill.
“I talked to my granddaughter yesterday. You, or your people, tried to abduct her. I cannot ever allow that to happen again. A message has to be sent. Payment has to be exacted.”
The man pressed himself back against his pillow, trying to get away from her.
“I sentenced you to death as soon as I heard you had survived.”
“I’m gonna just lie here,” Adonis said. “I’m not gonna say a word.”
Jana sat and watched him.
“There’s no reason for you to stay,” he muttered. “Get the fuck away from me. I’m not looking at you any longer, bitch.” He turned his face away. As soon as he did so, Jana knocked on the door to the room. The door opened, and the two police officers rolled the wheelchair in. They walked over to Adonis and one of them pulled the I.V. line from his arm. Adonis let out a yelp of surprise and pain.
“What the hell are you guys doing? Get the fuck away from me!”
They unfastened the shackles, dragged the man from the bed, and dropped him into the wheelchair.
His cast impeded his movements as Adonis struggled. One of the officers held him down while the other took a roll of heavy duct tape and wrapped it around him, strapping his arms and legs to the chair while he cursed them, trying to break away.
When the officers were through, they looked at Jana. She took the roll of tape from them and faced the man in the wheelchair.
“I’m a patient in a hospital,” he said, as if that would dissuade her.
“And I’m an executioner. This is your last chance to tell me what I need to know.”
“Fuck you,” Adonis said, and Jana taped his mouth shut. She nodded to the two officers, who wheeled Adonis, still struggling, out of the room. Jana followed them. Outside, Trokan looked worried.
“You still want to carry on, Jana?”
“No question, Colonel.”
Trokan waited as she and her men took the prisoner to the elevator and descended to the basement, then walked to the end of a long, water-stained cement corridor, stopping when they reached a large rusted metal door. One of them unlocked the door; the other wheeled Adonis into the room. Jana took a last glance down the corridor to make sure no one was following, then stepped into the huge, empty, darkened room. The police officers walked out, closing the iron door behind them with a loud
clang.
The man in the wheelchair was beginning to sweat. It was time to ratchet up the pressure even more. Jana ripped the tape from Adonis’s mouth.
He tried to spit at her.
Jana smiled, took a step back, and pulled out her gun.
He began screaming. She waited for a few moments, until he had worn down.
“No one can hear you,” she informed him. “They had orders to go back up to the hospital area. They were only too glad to obey. They know what is going to happen. No one wants to witness an execution.” Jana snapped the safety off, then levered a shell into the chamber of her gun, cocking it.
Adonis stared at the gun.
“This is not right,” he got out.
“Why is it not ‘right’?”
“I haven’t had a trial.”
“Of course you did. I was the judge; you were found guilty. Now I’m going to kill you.” He began to shake. “You can still stop me. All you have to do is answer my questions.” She paused. “However, I would urge you to keep silent.”
He gaped at her, not quite understanding.
“I
want
to kill you. If you don’t talk, I’m empowered to put a bullet in you. I would like nothing better. So, what do you want me to do, kill you or not?”
He continued to stare at her.
“Not convinced?”
She walked around behind him.
“What . . . the fuck . . . are you doing?” he stammered out.
“Taking aim. I’m not going to put a bullet in your head with the first shot. For what you people almost did to my granddaughter, you’ve earned a slow death.” She hesitated, then considered the words she’d just spoken. It was for the sake of her grandchild’s future. She fired. The bullet struck the muscle near the juncture of his neck and shoulder.
He screamed. “I’m shot! Jesus, you shot me!”
“Of course I shot you. I told you I would.” Jana stepped closer to view the wound.
“Bullets do terrible damage. If I were to remove the tape now, you wouldn’t be able to use your right arm.” She prodded his shoulder with the gun barrel. He groaned. “Ah, it hurts. Good. Pain teaches us. The next one will be on your other side. Then, a bullet to the head.”
“For god’s sake, don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me.”
She took a few steps back and recocked the gun. The
click
of the hammer sounded very loud.
“Prepare yourself, Adonis.”
The man pleaded with her. He would talk, he blurted out. Anything, if she did not shoot.
Jana let him go on for a moment. Then she uncocked her gun and walked around to confront him.
“A good decision, Adonis.” She looked down at him. They both knew her threat had been genuine.
“You will be arrested for shooting me.” His eyes showed the depth of his malice.
Jana shook her head. “I think not. I shot you, from behind, when you tried to escape from custody. That’s always a good story, isn’t it? My boss will accept that. So will yours . . . maybe.”
Jana put her gun back in its holster. She wouldn’t need it any more.