The Boy Who Glowed in the Dark (25 page)

The cemetery man and his protégé opened the casket. Nadia took a breath and stepped forward.

A human skeleton rested inside.

“Broad pelvis, narrow collarbone, small frontal and temporal bones,” Simmy said. “Looks like a woman to me. And there’s evidence of a break in the left fibula.”

Nadia saw the broken bone below the knee. It brought back memories. She’d stabilized a broken tibia for a distressed hiker on the Appalachian Trail during a three-day Ukrainian Girl Scout survival test. Both bones belonged to strangers she’d never met. The difference was this one would never heal.

She appraised Simmy with a fresh perspective. “Did you work in a morgue?”

“No. My platoon stumbled on a mass grave in Siberia when I was in the Army. I watched and listened when the forensic technicians came. So much for your theory. There lies a woman. There lies Eva Vovk.”

Nadia stared at the skeleton. How could she be sure it belonged to Eva? Nadia wished she had more time to investigate further.

A voice startled her from behind.

“You’re right on the first count,” the cemetery man said, “but wrong on the second.”

Simmy regarded him with curiosity. “How so?”

“A girl definitely lies there, but she is not Eva Vovk.”

“Why do you say that?” Nadia said.

“Because this girl speaks to me. I told you. When I tend to her lot.”

Simmy gave Nadia another skeptical glance.

Nadia said, “And what does she say?”

“That she has finally found peace now that she is alone.”

Nadia waited for him to follow up, but he didn’t add anything. “And?” she said.

The cemetery man shrugged. “And nothing. That’s all the proof you need the girl is not Eva Vovk.”

Simmy looked amused and confused. “How is that?”

“Eva Vovk. Her last name means wolf. Wolves travel in packs. No wolf would ever say she was at peace now that she was alone. A wolf would only find peace with others like her. I’m not educated like you two and I may just move dirt for a living, but this I guarantee you. That is not the body of Eva Vovk.”

CHAPTER 35

N
ADIA AND
S
IMMY
completed their business at the cemetery in twenty minutes. They were back on the road to Kyiv by 1:55 p.m. That left them two hours until Nadia’ self-imposed deadline for her plane to depart for Vladivostok.

“Not only will my driver make up time on the ground,” Simmy said, “my pilot will make up time in the air.”

He excused himself while he called his assistant to get briefed on what had transpired since he’d last talked to her half an hour ago. Such was the life of an oligarch. He ran a multi-billion-dollar empire. He demanded performance and held his employees accountable. He didn’t micromanage them but he stayed informed so that he understood the business. Charities, pension funds, other businesses depended on him. Nadia had worked for such men in New York City. They were consumed with their work. In Nadia’s experience, such men had to maintain an exhilarating pace for fear of coming to rest and realizing the magnitude of their unhappiness in their lives.

Simmy finished his call and hung up.

“I’m not convinced it’s Eva’s body in the casket,” Nadia said.

Simmy appeared distracted. “Pardon? Oh. Yes. I see. Would you like to spend the night so you can talk to the recently departed and ask her yourself?”

“Very funny. Dr. Arkady and Eva’s uncle were relevant in the Soviet era. A scientist and a hockey star. If they weren’t powerful, they were at least well-connected. Maybe they maintained their connections. Maybe one of them knew someone that could have provided him with a similar-looking corpse. Or sold him one. Maybe they were able to stage a burial with an actual body, someone who died of an accident or natural causes, perhaps another orphan or a homeless girl. It wouldn’t be too hard to break a fibula, either, to make the illusion even more convincing.”

“You’ve been watching too much American television.”

“I barely watch any television. But I’ll admit that the bit about the wolf not wanting to rest alone did resonate with me.”

“Oh that’s much more comforting.” Simmy sighed. “Are you pleased with what you were able to discover under such difficult time constraints?”

“Yes. Denys Melnik was hugely helpful. We know it’s the Zaroff Seven who’ve been one step ahead of us. They think there’s a formula, and they’ll kill to get it. They killed his mother and she was the last person alive with knowledge of whether Dr. Arkady completed the formula. You’d have to believe the answer is yes. She sent them to Japan for a reason. We also know he made the locket Bobby wears around his neck. Denys Melnik had a copy, and so does Genesis II. The question is, if it is Eva’s remains in the casket, who is Bobby following? And who is Genesis II?”

“The answers may be in Siberia, and the road through Siberia will begin in Vladivostok.”

Nadia checked her watch out of sheer instinct. Simmy laughed and shook his head, as though she were a cynical being who simply refused to believe one of life’s simplest truths, that the oligarch always got what he wanted, that nothing could interfere with this agenda.

Except for the government that ran the country where his plane happened to be waiting for him.

When they arrived at Boryspil Airport, they sailed through a special immigration line for VIPs and boarded Simmy’s plane at 4:07. Only seven minutes past her deadline. Nadia was beyond impressed. Her thoughts turned to Bobby as she prepared for the plane to taxi down the runway for takeoff.

But it never left its gate. Fifteen minutes later Simmy asked the pilot for a reason behind the delay. The pilot said it had to be routine. Nadia remained calm despite the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. With each passing minute, the odds of meeting Bobby’s ferry at the dock diminished. Still, she clung to hope. Pessimism never won the debate, the horse race, or the war.

When the pilot killed the engine, she knew her hope was misplaced.

The pilot joined them in the cabin, a grim expression on his face. “This runway is closed for an hour.”

“Then move us to another runway,” Simmy said. “What’s the problem?”

“No planes are allowed to move.”

Simmy hadn’t bothered to secure his seat belt. He snapped to his feet. “Said who?”

“Air traffic control, obviously. VIP government departure. Probably the prime minister. Or the president. The VIP runway goes on lockdown. Standard procedure. They don’t give advance warning for security reasons.”

A few choice words of profanity escaped Simmy’s lips. He wheeled to the back of the plane where four of his men were playing cards. He eyed the one who’d made the arrangements with the cemetery man.

“Get me the MVS,” Simmy said.

“Is it wise to ask the Minister of Internal Affairs for a favor when you know he’s not going to be able to grant it?” the man said. “Given one of his superiors is on his way to the airport to catch a plane right now?”

Simmy’s voice rose a few decibels for the first time. “Do I pay you to ask me questions?”

“Yes, boss. You do.”

“I do, don’t I?” Simmy said. “I also pay you to think. There’s got to be something we can do.”

Watching Simmy become animated for the first time ever had the opposite effect on Nadia. If he was upset, there was no need for her to stress. In fact, her optimal course of action was to help keep Simmy calm to ensure his fury didn’t cause him to enrage some airport official and result in an even longer delay.

Nadia patted his seat cushion with her palm. “Come sit with me and tell me tales of Siberia. A wise man once taught me patience is like virtue. You need it when you want it the least.”

Simmy looked prepared to shed his dress shirt, don his cape, and fly to Vladivostok after dropping a bomb on the traffic control tower first. He thought for a moment. By the time he sat down beside Nadia, he’d returned to his stoic self.

“Who was the wise man who taught you this?” Simmy said.

Nadia remembered the first time she saw Victor Bodnar in his apartment, looking like an old cigar that could never be extinguished. “No one important,” she said. “Just an old thief.”

Simmy took Nadia’s hand and squeezed it. Lines sprang to his face as he looked her in the eyes.

“My pilot will try to make up the time, but if we’re late I will make this up to you. I have friends in Siberia. It is a vast place but a boy from America cannot go unnoticed. He cannot survive without the help of others.”

He’s not a boy from America,
Nadia thought,
and he knows people in the region.
People who might help him.

Nadia squeezed Simmy’s hand back. “There’s nothing for you to make up. Bobby is resilient, and he’ll call me on my cell phone as soon as he gets the chance. Besides, worst case, how late can we possibly be? It’s not like he’ll have a day’s head start. More like an hour or two, at most, right?”

Simmy nodded, but it seemed more an obligatory gesture than sincere agreement. He released Nadia’s hand.

Nadia smiled, but deep down she didn’t believe a word she’d just said. Vladivostok was in Siberia, and Siberia was the home of
gulags
where many of her Ukrainian ancestors had perished for anti-Soviet behavior such as speaking Ukrainian or writing poetry.

It always was and would be a place where people disappeared forever.

CHAPTER 36

T
HE FERRY ARRIVED
in Vladivostok on Sunday morning. The car dealer stood beside Bobby at the front of the line to disembark.

“I know you have to take care of your car inventory,” Bobby said. “Here’s what we should do. I’ll give you my address, and I’ll go on ahead and prepare your money. Then when you’re done . . .”

The car dealer looked incredulous.

“No, no,” Bobby said. “That’s ridiculous, right?”

The car dealer laughed. It was the scratchy growl of a lifetime smoker.

“It makes it sound like I’m trying to ditch you,” Bobby said. “And I’m not.” Bobby stood quiet for a moment, and then became mildly animated as though a great idea had occurred to him. “You know what’s better? I’ll stay with you. How about that? You have to process your car inventory, right? Get your documents straightened out with the authorities. I’ll stay with you until you’re finished, and then we’ll go to my place together.” Bobby pretended to be enthusiastic by sealing his suggestion with a nod and a smile.

“Sure,” the car dealer said. “That’s a great plan. It gives you the opportunity to make your escape during all the chaos. Nice try, boy.” He slapped Bobby on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about my cars. My colleagues will take care of my cars. You and I are going to do what best friends do. They stick together and enjoy a cold beverage after an exhausting trip. We’re going to pass through immigration. I will go first. You will be behind me. Soon as you give me my money, I’m going to buy you that beer.”

Bobby dropped his head and raised it just as quickly. It was a flash of dismay, something he’d perfected in front of the mirror for those instances when he had to inadvertently reveal he’d been duped. As though he’d let his emotions slip and only a practiced eye could have noticed it. He saw the car dealer’s lip turn up a smidge. He thought Bobby was disappointed. The car dealer thought he’d gotten the better of him. It was the exact reaction Bobby was trying to provoke.

By positioning himself at the front of the line, Bobby knew the driver and Eva were somewhere behind him. The density of the crowd prevented him from turning around and trying to spot them. There was no place to hide, too big a risk the driver might see him. The only risk to his plan was that he would be delayed at immigration, and the driver and Eva would sail through via a different line.

After the ferry docked, the passengers made their way off the gangplank into the building. Signs instructed the passengers to form two lines. The lines to the far left were for Russian citizens. The ones to the right were for foreign nationals. The twelve people ahead of Bobby and the car dealer headed straight toward the local line. The car dealer put his hand on Bobby’s back and nudged him to the left to become the thirteenth. Bobby stepped to the right, slipped away from his touch, and bared his American passport.