Dark Tribute--An Eve Duncan Novel

by Iris Johansen

  Jock gazed at him, weighing his words. Kaskov hadn’t changed since Jock had last seen him. Late fifties, gray-streaked dark hair, strong, fit body. Total confidence, no fear, no hesitation. “Almost isn’t good enough. If I find you’re wrong, I’ll kill you first, then go after Nikolai. I couldn’t locate him on the grounds. Did you send him away?”

  “It seemed the prudent thing to do since I knew you’d probably know he was at the hotel.”

  Jock shrugged. “It’s only a delay.” He walked toward the dining table. “I’ll find him.”

  “I know you will. You have that talent.” He pushed aside his plate and poured himself a cup of coffee. “You’re quite superb. Probably the most exceptional hunter that I’ve ever run across.” He took a sip of coffee. “And reputedly the best assassin though you haven’t let me test your abilities in that area.”

  “That was a long time ago.”

  “But it’s something that never leaves you,” he said softly. “Does it?”

  “No.” He poured himself a cup of coffee from the carafe. “Which is why you should answer me very quickly. You don’t want me to become impatient.”

  “Why not? It’s sometimes very entertaining to watch you go into orbit. Though I admit I’m not in the mood at present.” He gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit down, I need to get this over. I had trouble getting rid of Nikolai, and I don’t want him bursting in here and trying to protect me before you realize you have no reason to kill him.”

  Jock hesitated and dropped into the chair. “Convince me.”

  “I sent him to the hotel to get Cara and bring her to me.”

  “Not convincing.”

  “I’d been told that Cara might be targeted by a very nasty individual and that I needed to remove her very quickly. I sent Nikolai because she knew him and might not be afraid of him. I didn’t want to alarm her.”

  “But alarm or not, you were going to take her.”

  He nodded. “He’s very dangerous, Gavin. I needed to get her out of there.”

  “But you didn’t get her out.” His lips tightened. “Why not?”

  “Nikolai was too late. Her schedule said that she’d be in Charlotte for another night. She changed it at the last minute and went to Atlanta. By the time Nikolai found that out, he’d lost almost the entire day.” His lips twisted. “Don’t blame Nikolai. I imagine it was your fault she changed schedules. You were there in Atlanta, weren’t you?”

  “Aye.” Jock stared him directly in the eye. “I was there.”

  “But not close enough to do Cara any good?”

  “That’s also true.”

  “And now you’re blaming yourself for not being able to keep her safe. Good. It will make it all the easier for me.”

  “I don’t intend to make anything easy for you. On the contrary. Why am I here?”

  “I needed you. I have excellent men, but none on your level. You’re totally unique. How many times have I asked you to come to work for me?” He lifted his hand. “Never mind. I know that would be dangerous for both of us. I have rules, and you’re a loose cannon. But one can never be sure when circumstances will change, and I’m content to use you at present.”

  “Who took Cara if it wasn’t Nikolai? I suppose it was one of your long list of enemies who wants to strike a bargain with you?” His hand clenched on the cup in his hand. “This isn’t the first time that it’s happened. I tried to tell her it was a risk just being around you. She wouldn’t listen to me.”

  “Because she has that peculiar idea that honor still exists in this world.” He shrugged. “When we both know, it does not. But I found it very convenient when I decided she was offering me something that I wanted very much.”

  “You son of a bitch.”

  “Absolutely. But after that episode a few years ago, when Cara was nearly killed by one of the people in my circle whom I’d … offended, I made sure it would not happen again. I vetted everyone with whom I came in contact, I had any suspect individuals watched. And she was safe, Gavin.”

  “The hell she was. Then where is she?”

  “That’s what you’re here to find out.” He added quietly, “And you’ll have to do it quickly. I don’t know how much time she’s going to have. I might be able to stall for a short time, but I believe he’s erratic.”

  “I want a name.”

  “John Svardak.”

  Jock leaned forward. “Will he negotiate?”

  “Not in good faith.” He smiled faintly. “Were you planning on offering him my head if he gave you Cara?”

  “It was a possibility. Or money. I have plenty of money. If he wants more, then I’ll take some of yours.”

  “Oh, will you?”

  “Or anything else he’ll accept.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not going to be that simple. The first option would probably be his preference, but he’d want my death later rather than sooner. And he’d almost certainly kill Cara in the most painful way possible before he let it happen.” He met Jock’s eyes. “He’s quite mad. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia in a hospital in Estonia over thirty years ago. He was incarcerated in a mental hospital for almost twenty years before he escaped. He’s high-functioning and brilliant. He’d earned degrees in law and pharmaceuticals while he was in the hospital, and it was probably easy for him to disappear off the radar once he escaped. In the last ten years, he’s evidently been very busy acquiring money and making plans how to best make my existence totally miserable.”

  “Thirty years,” Jock repeated. “No one can say you don’t leave an impression on those around you. What the hell did you do to him?”

  “Nothing.” He shrugged. “Not that I wouldn’t have done a good deal to him if I’d found him. But he’d been placed in the hospital under a false name, Fedor Petrov, and he slipped through my fingers. I thought he might have committed suicide or something equally pleasant. I didn’t know he was still alive until I received the first photo.”

  “Photo?”

  Kaskov got to his feet and went to the buffet sideboard against the wall. “Five months ago I received two photos in the mail.” He took a large manila envelope from a drawer and handed it to Jock. “You might call them Before and After. The envelope was postmarked in St. Petersburg. Then the next month I received another two photos with the envelope postmarked in Ireland. Then the next month two photos postmarked in Bermuda. The last one I received was two days ago from Charlotte, North Carolina.”

  “Shit!”

  “That was my thought. Much too close to Cara’s concert event.” He was leaning back against the buffet with his arms crossed. “And after you glance through those photos, you’ll understand why I sent Nikolai to gather her up and bring her to me.”

  Jock already had the envelope open and was pulling out the photos.

  ST. PETERSBURG—KATYA TARVONA

  The first photo was of a young girl in a white blouse and black skirt, her brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was holding a violin.

  The second photo was the same young girl, her throat slit, still holding the violin with bloody hands.

  “My God,” Jock said.

  “It doesn’t get any better,” Kaskov said.

  DUBLIN—MOIRA REARDON

  Dark, curly hair, rosy cheeks, blue eyes. No more than eighteen or nineteen. She was wearing a green-plaid jacket over a white sweater. She was holding a violin.

  Second photo. Eyes wide open. Blood was pouring out of a wound in her breast and she was holding the violin frantically in front of her as if to ward off the fatal blow.

  “They’re all like this?” Jock asked hoarsely. “Same composition?”

  Kaskov nodded. “Before and After.”

  HAMILTON, BERMUDA—GILLIAN HALEY

  Tanned, sun-streaked hair, a little plump, wearing a pink sundress and sandals, holding her violin.

  Jock only glanced at the second photo. The sundress was no longer pink, it was bloodstained. But the violin was there in the forefront.
<
br />   “I don’t have a name on the last photo I received from Charlotte, North Carolina,” Kaskov said. “We’ve been doing a search, but Nikolai hasn’t been able to find any violinists missing in the area with her description.”

  “I think that I can furnish you with the name.” Jock pulled out the last photos. “Marian Napier. You should have been checking Toronto, Canada. Svardak must have snatched her there while she was hiking. Because it was in Canada, the hunt and publicity would be confined to Toronto. Evidently he was being more careful the closer he got to Cara and didn’t want to tip his hand.” He looked at the second photo. It was what he expected. Blood pouring from the woman’s wounds to saturate the violin. He felt a sudden burst of rage as he tossed the photos back at Kaskov. “But why weren’t you being careful? Violins? Young women being slaughtered. Don’t tell me you didn’t think about Cara. I could kill you.”

  “I thought about it. I told you I had her under strict protection, and the first killings were nowhere near Cara. The Bermuda death was too close, but I was already moving to take care of the situation.” He shrugged. “And you can’t kill me, you’re going to need me. You’re right, it would have struck an immediate chord with me if I hadn’t had a frame of reference other than Cara in the back of my mind. That first killing at St. Petersburg hit too close and threw me off balance. I started to look for a dead man.”

  “What? With a damn violin?”

  “He could have regarded it as a symbol. I told you he was crazy.”

  “But you didn’t tell me nearly enough about him.” He was shooting questions, “Where is he? Why does he have Cara? Do you know how I can get to him?”

  “I don’t know where he is. I might have an idea how you might get to him. I paved the way.” He paused. “Why does he have Cara? Pure revenge, I’m afraid.” He put the envelopes back in the drawer of the buffet and closed it. “My fault. I shouldn’t have stopped searching for him. But I’d eliminated the rest of them, and it was a busy time for me.” He added sardonically, “I was a young man, and I hadn’t learned the value of being thorough about tying up loose ends yet.”

  “And just who had you eliminated?”

  He silently held up his hands. Four fingers on each hand had been smashed and were now crooked and malformed. “Did you think I’d allow that to happen to me without returning in kind? I’m sure Cara told you about it. She was very upset. She loves her own music so much that she couldn’t imagine how I could bear it. But she’s so very young and soft, isn’t she?”

  “Not so soft. She did tell me that you grew up in a Gulag prison labor camp in Siberia and that you wanted to be a violinist. She said that a prison guard smashed your fingers. You told her that you could no longer play and had to go in another direction. Should I guess the name of that guard?”

  “Ivan Svardak. He was John Svardak’s father. He also had another son, Boris, and a daughter, Anna. Anna was also a violinist. Technically excellent but no magic. But she was very ambitious. We were all very ambitious in that labor camp. The bastards who ran our Gulag graciously permitted the younger prisoners to work from dawn to dusk in the mines but gave us the hope of escape if we spent any free time working in their ‘social’ program. Being a musician and sent to Moscow to a prestigious school was one of the only ways to get out.” He looked down at his fingers. “And Anna’s father was ambitious for her. Anna convinced him that I wasn’t worthy to enter the competition that might get me a little too much attention. She said that I had no technique, but I was able to evoke an emotional response that might get in her way. So Boris and Ivan took care of that for her. They cornered me in a hallway. It turned out to be a family affair. Anna was there watching to make sure they did a good job. And I remember her younger brother, John, laughing as my bones broke. It was the longest ten minutes of my life.”

  “Evidently they believed you were a threat to this Anna. You were that good?”

  “I was superb.” He added, “But I was also pragmatic. Dreams are for children. Power is for adults. So after my hands healed, I found my way to a group in the labor camp who dealt in power. I was out of the prison in a year, then I was on my way.”

  “Svardak?”

  “I’m getting there. It took me three years to rise to a position in the organization where I could allow myself to take back those ten minutes of torture in that Gulag. I went after Ivan and Boris first. Anna saw me do it and took off with brother John in tow. She disappeared from view and probably thought I’d forget. I never forget. Years later, I located her and sent a man to take care of her.”

  “But you lost John Svardak.”

  “I told you I did,” he said roughly. “I searched for years, but I couldn’t find him. Anna hid him very well in that mental hospital, and she died before she could be questioned. I lost him, and I’ll pay the price.”

  “If Cara doesn’t have to pay it for you.”

  Kaskov shook his head. “Oh, you won’t allow that.”

  “No, I won’t. It’s too bad it won’t help those other women Svardak butchered. You should have been on top of this from that first killing.”

  He shrugged. “I told you that it spiraled me back to another time, another Kaskov. As far as I knew, that first victim was murdered by a madman who was killing randomly and was no real threat to me. I didn’t know his potential.”

  “But you suspected it was Svardak.”

  “Of course I did,” he said impatiently. “The family had dominated and changed my life. I immediately started an in-depth search again. It was easier since we had a new victim and I have many political contacts these days.” His lips twisted. “Perhaps too easy. At one point, I wondered if Svardak was deliberately leaving clues to lead me to him. We found the mental hospital in Narva, Estonia, where Anna had placed him, and I was given a few lessons on what I was going to have to deal with in John Svardak. The surrounding village had a long list of missing and murdered citizens. You might be interested.”

  “Right now, my only interest is finding the son of a bitch. You said you might know a way to find him, that you’d paved the way. Who did you use to pave it?”

  “Ron Edding. One of Svardak’s men he’d hired in the Bahamas to help get him off the island after he killed Gillian Haley. It was more difficult to arrange a murder on a small island with the strict policing of Bermuda. But Edding managed to do it, and Svardak was impressed enough to hire him for his regular crew … which he told Edding was occupied at that time with doing guard duty in this area of West Virginia.”

  “And how do you know all this?”

  Kaskov’s brows lifted. “The police might not have been able to track down Svardak’s accomplices on Bermuda, but do you think Nikolai would have had problems? He knew the importance. Edding was already gone when he arrived, but Nikolai found out he had a mistress, Malia Basteau, he visited twice a week in Nassau. After in-depth questioning, Nikolai found out Edding had called her after he left Bermuda but told her that he’d have to wait until he got back to Bermuda to call her again. He must have trusted her because he was foolish enough to tell her that he was in this general area. But he said that Svardak was watching everyone, and he’d be a dead man if he found out Edding had called her.”

  “But he didn’t even have Cara then.”

  “But he might have had Marian Napier. Her body hasn’t been found. And if he’d already set up a safe place to dispose of a body, why not use it for Cara?”

  Jock could feel the tension tighten every muscle. “Why not, indeed. Can you force his mistress to call Edding back and pump him for more information about his exact location?”

  “I could, but she’s frightened now, and she’d probably make slips. You don’t want that. It would be dangerous for Cara. The best I can do is text you a photo of Edding. Why do you think I didn’t go after Svardak myself? The minute he thought I was on the hunt, he’d kill Cara. It was better to let you dispose of him.”

  “How kind of you. You’re right, I’ll find him on my own.” He t
urned toward the door. “And I’d better get started. Send those photos to Joe Quinn, will you? I’ll call him and fill him in on this location. But he needs to have the complete scenario of what’s going on with Svardak. I won’t have him kept in the dark. I might need him.”

  Kaskov nodded. “Use him if you wish. But understand I deal only with you, Gavin. But I’ll send him the photos with omissions about my previous association with Svardak and his family. He’ll get everything else.”

  “Protect yourself all you please,” he said curtly. “I don’t give a damn about what they did to you or what you did to them. All that matters is getting Cara away from him. I’ll find him. I’ll kill him. If I need you, I’ll call you.”

  “As you like.” He watched him head toward the door. “However, I believe we should discuss one other possibility. Svardak has probably been anticipating taunting me for a long time. He won’t miss the opportunity of showing off Cara and his power over her. I’ll get a call or, more likely, a Skype.” He paused. “No doubt it will be painful to watch. Should I invite you to his little party?”

  Just the thought was making the anger pound through Jock. Anger and pain. Kaskov would have known that would be his response and wasn’t above being pleased. He hadn’t liked having to send for Jock. Nor the orders Jock had been issuing since he got here. He couldn’t blame him, and it didn’t matter. He’d brought Jock here where he at least had a chance of saving Cara. “Aye, call me. But don’t let either him or Cara know I’m here watching. If it’s going to be a party, let’s have it be a surprise party.”

  He walked out of the room.

  * * *

  He had handled the situation just right, Kaskov thought. Well, as right as you could manage to handle a man as dangerous as Jock Gavin.