She limped out of the stall to the mirror and ran her fingers through her hair, flattened by the disguise. From her inside pocket Katla took a pair of yellow sunglasses that changed the shape of her face. She limped from the lavatory and noticed the Chinese thug moving slowly toward the exit. He didn’t pass through the revolving door, but took the elevator down to the garage.
Katla went outside through the revolving door and crossed the street to the Oosterpark gate. The exit of the parking garage was at ’s-Gravesandeplein. She straddled a black Ducati Multistrada she’d borrowed from the dealer for a day and took up a position that allowed her to see the driver of any car leaving the garage, folded her cane and stowed it inside her jacket.
A black Lexus SUV came up the ramp to street level. They didn’t have much imagination in their choice of vehicles. Katla waited until the Lexus turned left and headed in the direction of Wibautstraat before she turned the Ducati around and took up pursuit.
-o-
Nicky glanced up at the door of the restaurant when it opened, his hand on his nine millimeter, as usual when someone entered outside opening hours. Bernie entered, holding his arms crossed in front of him and opening the door with his elbows. Nicky nudged Lau, as Bernie approached them on trembling legs. Lau glanced up briefly, but turned his attention back to his sudoku puzzle.
Nicky studied Bernie’s disheveled appearance. “What the fuck happened to you?”
Bernie swallowed. “I met Eric’s killer.”
That got Lau’s attention. His lizard gaze flitted over Bernie’s face and dropped to the hands he cradled to his chest, before he turned to Nicky. “Upstairs.”
Nicky got up, grabbed Bernie by the back of his jacket and pushed him through the kitchen, where the cook and his helpers skittered out of their path. Pushing against his back, Nicky forced Bernie to climb the steep stairs. Bernie had to use his wrists to support himself, angling his broken fingers to the inside to protect them.
When they reached the landing, Lau slipped past them and knocked on the door. The lock clicked and Zhang told them to come in. Bernie seemed to shrink under Zhang’s intimidating gaze. He told them about the spectre and showed his arm, the letters LOKI scratched in his skin.
Lau studied the welts up close. “Did you come straight from the hospital?”
“Why do you ask?”
Lau took Bernie’s hand and pressed his thumb on his index finger, grinding the broken bones together. Bernie cried out and Nicky cuffed him around the head. “Don’t make so much noise, you wimp. These welt are at least an hour old. The OLVG is less than fifteen minutes away. Where did you go?”
“Home,” Bernie cried. “Please, please. I went home to change.”
“Let me get this straight,” Lau said, tapping his thumb on the fracture. “You have two broken fingers, but you give priority to changing your clothes?”
“I pissed myself, okay?”
Lau shook his head. “Get this piece of shit to a hospital, Nicky. And make up a story.”
Nicky cuffed him around the head again. “Get up.”
Bernie went ahead. Nicky followed him down the stairs again. “You’re such an idiot, Bernie. Seriously, if Zhang wasn’t your uncle, I wouldn’t be taking you to a hospital.”
In the car Bernie had difficulty putting his seatbelt on, but Nicky just waited, impatiently tapping the steering wheel. When he finally managed, wincing with the pain, Nicky pulled away and took the IJ-tunnel to the A10 ring road.
Bernie mumbled something and Nicky turned down the radio. “What did you say?”
“I’m not an idiot,” Bernie said. “You wouldn’t have done any better.”
“Against a man in a dress? Christ, you’re pathetic.”
“Burqa. Not a dress. And this guy was like a ghost.”
“You didn’t even try to pistol-whip the motherfucker. You just bend over so he could stick his hand up your ass and make you his sock puppet.”
Bernie leant back his head. “Fuck you, Nicky.”
Without taking his eyes from the road, Nicky backhanded him in the face. The way you slapped a woman. Bernie started crying like one, gulping his air, his breathing jagged. “I thought I was going to die,” he wailed. “Don’t you get that? The fucker jammed his fucking thumb in my neck and threatened to turn me into a vegetable.”
“Yes, I get that, you fucking fag,” Nicky hissed. “Now stop the goddamn wailing and man the fuck up, before I take you into the woods and put a bullet in the back of your head.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Bernie hissed. “My uncle—”
“Your uncle would be glad to see the last of your mongrel ass. He curses your mother every day for fucking a Gwai Lo and disgracing his family. Your mother blackmailed him into giving you a chance to show your worth.”
Bernie sat up as if stung. “Liar.”
Nicky grabbed his left ear and twisted it. “Don’t you ever call me a liar, you two-faced son of a whore. Shut up and think up a story for the hospital. And it better not be something that gets back to us.”
He released the reddening ear and focused on driving. Bernie shut up and stared out the window. They drove through the Coentunnel and entered the busiest stretch of motorway in the Netherlands, the A10 West. Congested to the point of gridlock, the A10 West took southbound commuters towards Schiphol and the Hague. The first part, right after the tunnel, was two lanes, with heavy construction in the middle where a fly-over was being constructed. The gridlock began where the two lanes became three lanes, just past Sloterdijk Station, where the office towers dispensed commuters into the traffic artery. Nicky wasn’t in a hurry, so he rode the left lane patiently, ambling along in second gear, feathering the clutch.
Motorcycles rumbled past, weaving through the lanes of stuck cars. A motorcyclist paused on the Lexus passenger side and knocked on the window, pointing at the rear of the car. Nicky hit a switch and the passenger window whispered down. The motorcyclist pushed up his mirrored visor. Under the helmet he wore a balaclava, showing only his twinkling blue eyes as he tossed a gun with something strapped to the barrel into Bernie’s lap.
“From Loki!”
Bernie yelped, bucked in his seat, and the package rolled from his lap onto the floor.
Loud hissing filled the car. In one movement Nicky undid his seatbelt, opened his door and rolled out of the Lexus. A muffled bang sounded and Bernie screamed as smoke billowed from the open window and door of the Lexus. Cars stopped and honked as Nicky landed on all fours, scraping his hands on the wet asphalt while the Lexus moved a few feet and stalled. He scrambled to the concrete divider and got to his feet, vaulted the railing and dropped between the barriers. With his hand on the butt of his nine millimeter, Nicky looked back at his car, but the smoke pouring out of the Lexus obscured his view. The motorcyclist was gone, as expected. He vaulted the second barrier, landing on the opposite carriageway next to the gridlocked northbound traffic and managed to cross three lanes and two exit lanes unscathed to the shoulder. He ran along the shoulder down the off-ramp of exit S103 and came out on the Haarlemmerweg where he quickly went into side streets, keeping an eye out for motorcycles as he fished his cell phone from his pocket.
Zhang answered on the second ring and Nicky told him what had happened. In the distance he heard sirens, and a few minutes later the sound of a helicopter circling overhead. When he was finished, Zhang was silent, then said, “What colour was the smoke?”
“Thick and white,” Nicky said. “Probably a flash-bang or teargas, but I didn’t stick around. It wasn’t a lethal attack, I think, although I have no idea how Bernie is doing.”
“You did well. Any information on the motorcyclist?”
“A pro, that’s all I can say. And obviously linked to Loki, as I said.”
“Lau will pick you up. What’s the plate number of the Lexus?”
Nicky gave him the number and Zhang said, “I’ll have Feng hack the system and report it stolen.”
“What about Bernie?”
<
br /> “We’ll deal with that when it comes up. This Loki is becoming a regular nuisance. We’ll talk later.”
HOSPITAL
Less than an hour later they were gathered at Gene Zhang’s office. Lau, Nicky, Zhang himself and the Cho Hai. Ri Lang was tall and taciturn, but when he spoke people paid attention. An important quality in a mediator.
“I think Sieltjes hired Loki to disrupt our plans,” Nicky said. “I don’t think this has to do with the competition.”
“I think you’re right, but I need to be sure.”
“The motorcyclist was not Chinese, his eyes were blue. And Bernie’s attacker in the hospital had blue eyes too.”
Lau lit another cigarette and said, “Same person?”
“I have no idea. Blue eyes are pretty common here.”
“He is putting us in the spotlight,” Zhang said. “The police interviewed me on that dead taxi driver already.”
“No man is an island,” Ri said. “But to stop Loki, we need to find out what he is.”
“A killer.” Lau shrugged. “Obviously.”
Ri looked at Lau. “He killed Eric and Thooft, but not Bernie. So obviously there’s more to him than just killing.”
“So what do you think?” Zhang leant back in his chair. “What is Loki?”
“He’s sending us a message,” Nicky said. “Loki can get to us, anywhere.”
“We need to understand his motivation,” Ri spoke softly. “Did Sieltjes hire Loki? If so, was his loyalty bought with money or is there another principle involved?”
“Principle?” Lau said. “Can you be a little less vague?”
Ri sighed. “Love, power, fun. If Loki is involved for financial gain, he might be swayed by money, but if he’s in love with this Sieltjes woman, he won’t be swayed. So his motivation is important in dictating our counter strategy.”
“How do we figure out his motivation?”
“Why did he kill Thooft?” Zhang said. “To protect Sieltjes. And to leave our business card to implicate us.”
“Which almost worked,” Nicky said. “If I hadn’t given Thooft an old business card…”
Zhang pursed his lips. “Even a new card would’ve been circumstantial evidence, since the killer planted the card in Thooft’s mouth.”
Ri nodded. “The message was not for the police, but for us.”
“Anyway,” Lau said. “He didn’t kill Eric to protect Sieltjes.”
“Maybe he was assessing our strength. And to take one of our amulets, to identify his opposition.”
“He must’ve come by water,” Nicky said. “I interviewed the guards, but he didn’t enter through the gate and there was no breach in the fence.”
“The fog helped too,” Lau said. “Eric wasn’t that easy to surprise.”
The phone on the desk rang and Zhang answered, listened for a minute, thanked the caller and put down the phone.
“Bernie’s at AMC. Second degree burns on his legs and a broken arm from tumbling from the Lexus. The fire was extinguished by other motorists.”
Nicky lit a cigarette. “And the gun strapped to the incendiary device? It looked like Bernie’s.”
Zhang shook his head. “I have no idea. I’ll probably be questioned by the police again, I’ll find out then.”
“Bernie will also be questioned,” Lau said. “What will we do about that?”
“I’ll leave that up to you,” Zhang said. “Make sure he doesn’t become a liability.”
Lau nodded. “Free hand?”
Zhang nodded and looked away. Lau motioned at Nicky to follow him and they left the office.
-o-
A police officer stood by the nurses station of the burn unit, when Bernie was wheeled in after receiving casts for his hands and his elbow fracture. The nurse pushing his wheel chair spoke briefly with the policeman and proceeded to take Bernie to a six-bed ward. The police officer remained at the nurses station, speaking to the nurse on duty, while Nicky watched through the open sliding door how the other nurse put Bernie’s swaddled legs in traction. She looked at her watch, jotted something in the stats hanging at the foot of his bed and left the ward.
Wearing a white lab coat two sizes too large over his leather jacket, Nicky walked into the ward and pulled the curtains around Bernie’s bed.
“Hey, Nicky,” Bernie mumbled. “Where did you go?”
“I’m sorry I had to leave you, Bernie. Did the police give you a hard time?”
“They tried, but I was in pain. The ambulance took me away. They’ll come by later.”
Nicky couldn’t believe his luck.
“Are you still in pain?”
“No,” Bernie rubbed the back of his head against his pillow. “Sedated. I burned my legs, Nicky.”
“Yes, you should’ve tossed the package back out the window.”
“Was Loki,” Bernie mumbled. “Cold blue eyes.”
“Wait,” Nicky said. “Your pillow is sliding.”
He pulled the pillow from behind his back and fluffed it, then put it over Bernie’s face and leaned on the bed with his full weight. Bernie bucked and screamed into the pillow, but Nicky whacked him in the groin, the pain accelerating his exhalations. He lost consciousness pretty quick and Nicky felt his neck. No pulse.
Nicky slipped from the bed and pulled Bernie forward, put the pillow back in position and leaned Bernie back, positioning him so he looked asleep. He left the curtains around the bed and checked the hallway before he left the ward, making sure to keep his back to the policeman chatting up the nurse at the nurses station.
He breathed a sigh of relief as soon as he entered the stairwell and moved down two flights of stairs. Balling up the white coat, Nicky entered the first floor corridor, tossed the coat under a stretcher and took the elevator down to the ground floor. A minute later he walked out without the alarm being raised.
After he passed CCTV security cameras, Nicky signalled Lau, who picked him up at the curb.
“Is he dead?”
“Of course. Bernie hadn’t spoken to the police yet, so I think we’re in the clear.”
Lau smiled. “I like to be sure. I want to visit my psychic again, but this time without witnesses.”
“If that’s your way to be sure.”
Lau glared at him.
“What?” Nicky held up his hands. “You know how I think about her, Elder Brother.”
“One day,” Lau said. “One day, you’ll find there’s more to this world than what can be measured by science.”
-o-
Nicky and Lau waited in the shadows, noticing how the man at the door refused the next customer. Nicky looked at his watch. A blond woman had been the last to enter, the waiting room held about five people, ten minutes each. He pulled up his collar against the rain and said, “Are you sure you want to do this, Elder Brother?”
“I need to know,” Lau said, lighting another cigarette. “Only two more weeks until the next new moon.”
Nicky shrugged. “She will just pour more poison in your ear.”
“I knew a psychic in Macao.” Lau kept the cigarette in his palm to hide the glowing tip. “She gave me her address.”
“They’re all part of the same union?”
“The real ones know each other.”
Nicky chuckled. “The Psychic Connection?”
The man at the door went inside, but came outside a moment later and crossed the street, heading straight in their direction. He halted before them and said, “My mistress wishes for you to join her now.”
Lau stepped out of the shadows and crossed the street and Nicky followed, the man trailing in their wake. The living room was empty.
“We sent everybody home through the back door.” The man spoke behind them, a gun in his hand. “Your guns, please. My mistress does not relish being abducted or other people getting caught in the crossfire.”
“Well, well.” Nicky fished his nine millimeter from under his jacket. “Maybe she really has psychic abilities.”
&nb
sp; “I knew you doubted me.” The psychic stood in the doorway, leaning on her cane. She followed Nicky’s gaze and said, “I had to sacrifice my limbs and my looks for my gift, but I feel it was a small price to pay.”
She turned to Lau. “I’m disappointed in you. I thought you were a true believer. I knew you were surrounded by cynics, but I expected you to show more mettle.”
Lau appeared chastened. “I’m really sorry.”
She turned away before he finished speaking, and wobbled away through the narrow corridor to the room where she did her readings. Lau sighed and followed the psychic. Nicky glanced over his shoulder at the placid face of the psychic’s helper, and followed Lau into the corridor. The psychic sat at her usual table and motioned for Lau to sit down before her. He put his hands down at the table and she put her hands on top of his. The withered claw that used to be her right hand rested on top of his left hand, opening and closing like some primordial beast gasping for air.
Her good eye was fixed on Lau’s face. “Part of my prediction has come true and caused you to doubt my integrity.” Lau opened his mouth, but she shook her head. “It wasn’t a question. My sole connection to the dark that circles you is the connection you made.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded. “You’re a man of violence, simple and direct. Like a soldier, following orders. You’re good at it, because you like it. Cruelty is in your nature and you relish the fear you strike in the hearts of others.”
“True.”
“You challenged the dark because your fear didn’t warn you. Dormant for so many years, your fear is awake now. Too late to help you now. The dark is much more skilled at cruelty and violence than you are.”
“So, is there anything I can do?”
“I told you. Change your life. Your attempts to thwart Death only feeds its appetite.”
Peccadillo - A Katla Novel (Amsterdam Assassin Series Book 2) Page 18