Russian Roulette dh-1

by Mike Faricy

  I pulled the shades before I turned on a light, then fired up my computer and Googled Russian mafia. Two hours of reading and watching five-minute videos later, I knew more than I wanted to, none of which was good. Reviewing Peters’ handouts I learned absolutely nothing about Kerri Vucavitch or Nikki Mathias. I learned even less about Braco the Whacko. But Agent Dziedzic had managed to slip her card in there and I placed it in my wallet. Her first name was Valentina.

  I phoned Aaron the next morning, left my daily message.

  “Just checking in, anything I can help with, just let me know.”

  I phoned the Spot next, Linda answered after a half dozen rings.

  “Spot Bar and we’re open.”

  “Linda.”

  “Yes,” she said cautiously.

  “Dev Haskell, just checking in. Anyone been looking for me?”

  “Are you kidding, who needs to ruin things this early in the day?”

  “I’ll take that as a no.”

  “Wow, I don’t know if it’s a wife or girlfriend this time but they really got you spooked.”

  “Just trying to be careful is all. Don’t want anyone to get hurt, especially me.”

  “No one’s been asking. You wanna describe the guy to me? Maybe if I see him I could give you a call?”

  “Not sure who it’d be. They might have an accent, maybe a muscular guy or a good-looking blond woman.”

  “Now you’re dreaming, an accent, like what in Fargo or something?”

  “No, more like Russian.”

  “Yeah right,” she said but didn’t elaborate. “I’ll give you a jingle if anything comes up. Look, I gotta run. We got a breakfast special, shot and a beer with a second shot for free,” then hung up.

  I decided to drive over to the world’s most depressing parking lot and see who came in and out of the Moscow Deli. Not because it was necessarily a good idea but because I didn’t know what else to do.

  Chapter 52

  It was raining the following morning, not hard, but a steady drizzle. A flat gray sky that gave all the indication the rain would continue for at least the next month. I left the chair pushed up against the front door and ducked out the back, cut through my neighbors backyard to my car parked on the street. My card was stuck in the steering wheel, reminding me to check the engine. I debated for a moment, looked at the drizzle, debated a moment longer. Water dripped slowly but steadily through the bullet hole in my windshield. It had pooled up on the dash before it dripped into one of the defrost vents. I decided my luck had not been the best of late, climbed out of the car back into the rain and popped the hood.

  Other than filling the gas tank and bringing my car somewhere to have the oil changed on a quasi-regular basis I know nothing about cars. I do know enough that a plastic bag with what I assumed might be C-4 explosive wrapped around a series of wires with black electrical tape was not part of some manufacturer’s upgrade.

  I called Aaron, twice, just so he’d know it was urgent. Left the hood up and climbed back inside out of the rain. Aaron phoned back shortly.

  “What?”

  “I’ve got a situation,” I said.

  “What kind of situation?” Aaron asked calmly. He rarely, if ever, showed strain in his voice.

  “A bag of what looks like C-4 is wrapped around what I’m guessing is the starter coil of my car.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “In the car,” realizing as I said it how dumb that sounded.

  “Take the key out of the ignition and get the fuck out of the car.”

  “The key isn’t in the ignition,” I said climbing out from behind the wheel.

  “Get out of the car, Dev, and get far away from it, now. Move!”

  “Will you dial down, I didn’t…”

  “Don’t argue, just get the hell away from there.”

  “I don’t think the thing is gonna blow, Aaron, I haven’t started the engine. I’ll probably…”

  “Get away from that car, fast. That device could be on a timer, or a mercury switch activated by your weight behind the wheel or maybe there’s someone watching with a remote-control device.”

  I glanced around as I began to walk away, didn’t see anyone watching, figured Aaron’s hyper cop rant wasn’t really helping just now.

  “Look, how about you have the bomb-disposal guys quietly come out and…”

  The explosion was so loud I didn’t hear it. The force of the blast bounced me off the back of a parked van. I probably walked about thirty feet down the street as I was talking to Aaron before the bomb detonated. I was in shock, dazed, and had no recollection of anything until after the surgery.

  Chapter 53

  I woke, sort of. I was groggy, confused and in a beige recovery room. There was a blue curtain drawn around me, and I was on my stomach lying on pillows or something that seemed to lift my entire backside up in the air. I had IV’s taped to my right hand. I could move my head but it hurt to do so.

  “Can you hear me?”

  I attempted to look up. I moved my head to the right and there was a vicious stabbing pain from the back of my head. I heard a groan I didn’t recognize then slowly realized it was coming from me.

  “We have you on a pain killer for now, just lay still. Do you mind, if I have a few of our students come in?”

  I didn’t recognize the voice. It sounded distant and seemed to echo in a weird sort of way. I murmured something and closed my eyes again. When next I opened them I was looking down at four pairs of shoes, three round toes and black, the fourth pair was sort of a pearl gray with a pointed toe and a small heel. From somewhere behind me a voice droned on about buttock contusions and anal laceration, then said, “Miss Shipley, if you’d clean up here, please. Gentlemen follow me.”

  The three pairs of black shoes disappeared and the pointed toe, pearl gray pair moved closer.

  “Three years of med school and I’m wiping your ass, have a nice day, asshole,” she whispered.

  Chapter 54

  Eventually I came to, but still felt a little foggy. I was in a different beige room, still on my stomach with pillows propping my butt in the air at what felt like a forty-five degree angle.

  “You waking up?” I recognized Heidi’s voice.

  “Ughhh,” I groaned.

  “Here,” she said, holding some sort of container at an angle and directing a straw into my mouth.

  “Ughhh.”

  “The nurse said to get plenty of liquids in you. You’ve been out for the better part of the day. It’s a little after eight.”

  I sipped what I guessed was water.

  “Oh God.”

  “You’re telling me! You’re lucky to be alive, Dev. If you’d been any closer to that explosion,” her voiced cracked.

  I took another sip, if it was water it was some of the best I’d ever tasted.

  “My car, is it okay?” I asked, exhausted with the effort.

  “Your car? You can forget about that. I think it was scattered all over the street. Don’t worry about it, just rest now.”

  I did, or attempted to. I had frightening dreams. Faces exploding, wolves or something chasing me, a lot of fire all around. I was aware of being woken by nurses at least twice, both times they had me sip liquids. I think it was water but I can’t be sure. Someone gave me a hypo in the butt.

  When next I woke it was daylight, and I felt ravenous. Aaron and Heidi were arguing over a blueberry muffin from my breakfast tray.

  “See what you did, he’s awake, now neither one of us will get any. He’s not any good at sharing,” Aaron said.

  “Hey, Dev, how you feeling?” Heidi asked as she gently laid a hand on my head.

  “I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus.”

  “Not far from the truth. Someone seems to have a real hard-on for you, buddy.” Aaron said.

  “My pal Braco the Whacko?”

  “Who’s that?” Heidi asked.

  “I would guess,” Aaron replied. “Braco the Whacko is an ind
ividual we have an interest in and Dev was, well, doing some investigation.”

  “Well, he’s crazy, obviously, have you arrested him?”

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Working on it, God.”

  “Look, if it’s any consolation, Dev, the docs in surgery worked long and hard and have made you a perfect asshole,” Aaron said.

  I couldn’t quite see it, but I sensed Heidi gave him one of her patented disgusted looks then said to me, “They had all sorts of metal and plastic and stuff to dig out of your butt and head and back. It’s why you’re in this kind of goofy position, you know, with your butt up in the air and all.”

  “I suppose I could have brought a flower, you know stick it…”

  “That’s not even funny,” Heidi said, half giggling at my expense.

  “God, when can I get out of here?”

  “We’ll have to wait until they say it’s okay for you to go home. You’re going to be doing some physical therapy and…”

  “Physical therapy, on my ass! I don’t think so.”

  “Well gee, nice to know you’re prepared to be the model patient. I can hardly wait,” Heidi said.

  “Hey, I’m the one who’s lying here with his ass up in the air.”

  “See how you like it for a change,” Heidi said.

  Neither Aaron nor I had a response to that.

  Chapter 55

  I was in the hospital for another night, then Aaron gave me a lift home. I was sitting on this sort of donut-hole foam thing as he drove, with my back at an angle to the seat. I was, to say the least, uncomfortable.

  “Gee, me bringing you home from the hospital, just like old times, darling.”

  “Kiss my ass,” I said in no mood for humor.

  “Touchy, are we?”

  “It’s just such a pain in the ass, pardon the pun. Hey, in case I didn’t mention it, thanks for your help. If it wasn’t for you I might have gone up with my car.”

  “Yeah, no problem. For what it’s worth there was a switch that activated some sort of a timing device. Either your weight in the seat or possibly opening or closing the car door set the thing in motion. The idea is to make sure you’re in transit, stuck behind the wheel, then boom. I guess the good news is there wasn’t someone watching you who set it off with a remote. Small consolation.”

  “I’m here to tell the story, right now that’s good enough for me. Any ideas who?” as if I needed to ask.

  “You mean besides any woman you’ve had a relationship with in say the past twenty years? Probably Braco Alekseeva or one of his thugs spring to mind. Maybe your girlfriend Kerri? I‘d say either one is a pretty safe guess. Am I missing anyone?” Aaron asked.

  “No, but I’m missing the why part of all this. I mean it’s not like I’m the only one investigating these creeps. In fact, I was just looking for one woman, Nikki Mathias, barely on the radar screen. If Kerri Vucavitch hadn’t hired me, then gotten me drunk so I’d hop in the sack with her, I wouldn’t even be on their radar screen.”

  “There you go, we could probably get her on date rape.”

  I looked at him disbelieving.

  “Look, I’m serious. What jury would possibly have trouble believing a drop-dead gorgeous woman forced you to drink yourself silly so she could take advantage of you in your incapacitated state?”

  “Yeah, yeah, but I still don’t get what the big deal is, from their standpoint that is. And, who shot that sleaze ball Sergie Alekseeva? I mean they pull up and he gets nailed just as he’s coming out of the SUV.”

  Aaron glared at me then put his eyes back on the road.

  “I knew it, I knew you were fucking there. I just knew it.”

  Oops.

  “Actually I was leaving, had left in fact. I just saw it out of my rearview mirror.” I went on to tell Aaron the rest of the tale. Waiting outside Braco’s condo building for three days, following Kerri, chatting with her. He asked a couple of questions about who had been in the SUV with Sergie. I had no answers.

  “And that brings us to “The Butcher”. So, tell me what you know about that guy. What’s his name?”

  “Tibor Crvek. Not much actually,” I said foolishly thinking I had a chance at dodging his question.

  “How did you find out about him?”

  “I went to the Deli and he was working.”

  “What?”

  “I went to the Moscow Deli Da’nita Bell told me about the place. They have a meat counter and Tibor Crvek was working, he’s the butcher there.”

  “You mean he’s a butcher, for real, at a deli? And that’s who you told Peters about in the Task Force meeting?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Jesus, you idiot.”

  “What do you know about “The Butcher” the real guy?” I asked.

  “About just what you’d guess from the name. These clowns got a habit of enforcement. They have someone, who based on what we can determine, has a knowledge of butchering, lays out his victims like dressed beef. Tongue, kidneys, heart, hams.”

  “Hams?”

  “You get the idea. We’re not sure who it is. Could be anyone of these idiots.”

  “Could also be someone with the simple knowledge of how to field dress a deer, which covers about every third guy in Minnesota,” I added.

  “Yeah, although, how can I say it, there’s an apparent efficiency of effort in his work. The guy’s experienced.”

  “Charming.”

  “Hey, don’t blame me. You’re the one sleeping with them.”

  “God, if only I’d known.”

  “I think we’re back to you being taken advantage of.”

  Aaron pulled up in front of my place then walked me to the front door, slowly. I could move but only gingerly. I unlocked the door but it wouldn’t open.

  “Oh God, I forgot I got a chair pushed in front of the door.”

  “A chair?”

  “Yeah, little extra security.”

  “Wow, high tech. I suppose an alarm system would just be too run of the mill for a super sleuth like you.”

  We walked around to the back, I unlocked the door and stepped in. Aaron glanced at the trunk in the middle of the floor I’d shoved against the door a couple of nights back.

  “Amazing.”

  I didn’t comment.

  “You feeling okay?”

  “Yeah, all things considered. I’m thinking of lying down, on my stomach.”

  “Want me to do a walkthrough, just in case?”

  “No, thanks, but not necessary.”

  “Sure?”

  “Very.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave you to your own devices. Keep your outside lights on all night. I’ll have district run a squad car past from time to time. You know my number if you need anything, but nine-one-one will be a lot faster if it gets hot. Might want to carry some protection with you, just in case.”

  “A condom?”

  “If you think you’ll have a use for it.”

  “Aaron, I just want to say thanks. Like I said, if it wasn’t for you I might be splattered all over the street.”

  “Yeah well, you know how the city is about litter.”

  Chapter 56

  I was home no more than twenty minutes, getting a little more paranoid with every passing minute. A bomb blast will do that to you. At the half-hour mark I phoned Heidi.

  “Can I come to your house?”

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so, just wigging out a little sitting around over here alone. I need a place to camp for three or four days until I get a little more mobile. Would it be too much of an imposition?”

  “I’m on my way,” she said without the slightest bit of hesitation.

  “Call me when you’re two minutes away. I want you to pick me up on the next street over.”

  Heidi called, amazingly, just as I instructed. I left via the back door, through the neighbor’s yard, and out to the street. I was moving slowly and was just walking to the sidewalk as she p
ulled up.

  “Hop in, lover boy,” she smiled.

  “God, I don’t think I’d even be able, the lover boy part I mean,” I said tossing an overnight bag in the back before positioning my foam donut cushion and carefully climbing in. It was going to be a few days before I got to the hop-in-andout stage.

  “Wow, you are banged up, oh pardon the pun,” she giggled.

  “Well maybe I could, bang that is.”

  “That’s better, see you’re already coming around.”

  She pulled away from the curb. About fifteen feet farther on there was a large blackened area on the asphalt. Bits of chromed plastic and glass twinkled in the gutter as we drove past, remnants of my car. It was very uncomfortable to look at.

  “You okay?” she asked after we’d gone a few blocks.

  “Yeah, but I’m beginning to take this seriously. I’m gonna get the bastard that did this to me.”

  “Let’s get you better first. You up for a trip to the grocery store to get a few things?”

  “I think we better, I’m not gonna get back to normal on a diet of Oreos.”

  “Especially since I don’t intend to share my Oreos with you.”

  Heidi’s idea of a few things and my idea of necessities seemed to be at opposite ends of the spectrum. She tossed necessities like three packs of Oreos, eight ounces of maple syrup, and cherry-flavored ice cream into the cart. I, according to her, got boring things like flour, fruit, olive oil, and pasta. We left the store with six bags’ worth of a few things.

  “Man,” she said as we exited the parking lot, “I don’t think I’ve ever bought that many groceries in my life.”

  “I’m not surprised. Both of us are going to be eating well and eating healthy. I’ll have dinner ready for you when you come home the next couple of days. It’ll give me something to do, okay? Say as long as we’re in this mode, stop at the wine store, we might as well stock up.”

  I was a little slow getting dinner ready. I was in a strange kitchen for one thing and well, I was moving a little slow. I served up two salmon fillets in a brown sugar chipotle glaze with a side of angel hair pasta, just after our fresh green salad with a light balsamic vinaigrette.