‘A meeting between whom?’
‘Between the child and … someone else. The villa was the meeting place.’
‘Someone else, you say? And who might this someone else be?’
‘A man in a custom-made suit, too heavy for his age, no doubt a husband and father. A man of stature who thinks he’s above the law. A power-hungry man without morals.’
‘The mind boggles, Mr Kovalev. I ask you about the identity of the man who was supposed to be meeting the boy and you quote Reader’s Digest to me.’
‘Because I’m trying to explain something to you, detective. We’re talking about a man who’s so power hungry that he’s crossed boundaries that you and I didn’t even know existed. A man who’s discovered power as the ultimate form of pleasure. There’s no greater pleasure for this man than having control over the life of a helpless child.’
There was a sinister silence in the interrogation room.
‘Who is he?’ Calvino asked in a hoarse voice.
‘Before I tell you that, I’d prefer to tell you about what took place before the meeting, if you don’t mind.’
Calvino looked astonished, rubbed his face and then snarled at him.
‘I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t we schedule a break, take a holiday. Saunter along a boulevard, lounge on the beach, ponder our sins and when we’ve all had a good rest and got ourselves a nice suntan, filled our bellies with good food and emptied all the wine cellars, we’ll get back to this.’ Meanwhile, he pulled photos out of a folder and slammed them one by one on the table. ‘Or we review the chronology of events,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I suspect we’ll get some names that way.’
Sasha looked at the photos. They showed numbered locations in and around the villa, a close-up of a bloodstained earring and a child’s slipper partially concealed by undergrowth.
‘Shots were fired both inside and outside the villa,’ Calvino said. ‘Bullet casings, blood and drag marks were found at both locations. Can you tell me what happened, or is that something else you want to get back to later? After the summer recess?’
Sasha stared stoically at Calvino and relived the moment he’d followed the boy and his guard into the villa. With his gun drawn but without a plan. To begin with, everything had gone fairly smoothly. He’d screwed on the silencer, waited until the boy was out of his field of fire and then pulled the trigger.
‘I went inside, detective, and I eliminated the first man.’
‘And then what?’
‘Then I took the boy outside.’
‘What went wrong?’
‘Everything. I used my silencer, but the man outside must have heard something. He was waiting for me. The bullet grazed my chest.’
‘You weren’t wearing a bullet-proof vest, for a change?’
Sasha sighed. The sarcasm was too much for him right now.
‘What about the boy?’
‘He ran into the woods. I told him to.’
‘And this all happened before the man, whose identity you still won’t reveal, arrived on the scene, I presume?’
‘During the altercation I saw his car approaching. He made a U-turn at once. He was gone by the time I’d taken out the second guy. That’s when I heard the bang.’ Sasha fell silent and took a few deep breaths. ‘It doesn’t matter how small or skinny a body is, even hitting a hare on a road produces a hell of a lot of noise. I knew it was the boy.’
‘Did you go and check?’
‘I walked into the woods, down the hill, towards the road. I must have been halfway when I heard another car brake, followed by a dull thud. As I approached the road, I saw a woman frantically yelling into her mobile phone as she got out of the car she’d crashed into a tree. The boy lay motionless on the road.’
‘Why didn’t you go to him?’
‘I thought he was dead.’
Calvino looked at him, stunned. ‘What happened next?’
Sasha was silent. He was searching for words to describe the moment, but none came. There were probably no words for what he’d felt seeing the boy lying there.
‘Let me help you,’ Calvino said, and Sasha saw that the detective meant it this time. ‘There was a dead man inside the villa, a dead man outside, and now there was a dead child on the road as well. You knew that before long there’d be police cars and an ambulance on the scene. All you managed to do within that short space of time was eradicate as many traces as possible in and around the villa. Am I warm?’
Sasha nodded. He’d dragged both men into the station wagon, had driven it to the clearing, unscrewed the number plates, doused the car in a jerry can of petrol and set it alight. The fire-spitting station wagon had illuminated the first part of his route back.
A second series of photos followed, which Calvino slapped on the table like before. Sasha saw the burnt-out shell of the station wagon. And then the pictures from the local cabinet of horrors: two charred corpses on the pathologist’s chrome slab.
‘Based on the casings found outside the villa, the autopsy has established a match with the calibre bullet in the sternum of the one of the bodies from the burnt-out station wagon.’
‘Impressive job, detective.’
‘But the circle isn’t complete until we compare the casings with the type of gun you were carrying this evening.’
Sasha couldn’t help it; he tried to applaud with his cuffed hands.
Calvino regarded him impassively. ‘But there’s one thing I still don’t get, Mr Kovalev. To what in God’s name do I owe your willing cooperation?’
Sasha produced a faint smile. ‘I tried to save a child and in the process killed two men to whom a human life means nothing more than a stack of banknotes. What’s the point of keeping that a secret?’
‘Sure,’ Calvino said. ‘Just like you don’t need to keep the identity of the man the boy was intended for a secret.’
‘As I said, I’m happy to give it to you. But I think we’d better formalize our mutual interests first.’
‘I didn’t realize we had any.’
‘More than you think. I don’t just have one name for you, I have several. And I’ve got information. Valuable information.’
‘How valuable?’
‘By Dutch standards, enough to bring down your government. By international standards, enough to raise serious questions about a billion-dollar empire. So, valuable enough, I should think.’
‘How do I know you’re not bluffing?’ Calvino asked.
‘The organization I work for must know I’m here by now, and no doubt they’ll be aware of the reason. Needless to say, they won’t be pleased with my actions. Especially not when they realize I’m thinking of airing some of their dirty laundry. Since tonight, I’m living on borrowed time, Detective Calvino. I’m not exactly in a position to bluff.’
‘What do you want in return for all this info?’
‘An international witness protection programme.’
For the first time, Diva, still sitting in the corner, uttered a guttural sound – like a fuse being blown.
‘Mr Kovalev,’ Calvino said, outwardly unmoved, ‘even if we managed to get you into such a programme, you’re still our suspect, and you still have to be tried and punished for your crimes.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ Sasha said. ‘But when the Public Prosecutor hears what I’ve got to say, his demands will drop even faster than the price of the euro.’
‘If your information is that valuable, Mr Kovalev, you’re going to have to come up with more than you just gave me. You see, I’ve got to convince certain people of the need to offer you witness protection. I can only do that if I’ve got concrete information, not a vague promise you can bring down our government. Plenty of people in this country think they can do the same.’
‘I can tell you who my boss is and how corrupt his global empire is.’
‘So which boss and which company are we talking about, Mr Kovalev?’
‘Valentin Lavrov, CEO of AtlasNet.’
‘Go on.’
‘I can tell you which Dutch businessmen and politicians have been bribed by my boss.’
‘Names, please.’
‘Armin Lazonder.’
‘Explain.’
‘The New Golden Age Project is a large-scale money-laundering scheme operated by Lavrov in exchange for concessions to build Europe’s largest gas storage facility. Nicolas Anglade stumbled across it during his investigation and now he’s dead.’
‘Anglade killed himself.’
‘That’s what we’ve all read in the paper and seen on television, sure. But the thing about killing yourself, as the words suggest, is you have a big hand in it. In Anglade’s case, it was mostly others who were involved.’
‘And you’ve got proof of that?’
‘Of course I’ve got proof. And, by the way, I thought you wanted to know who the boy was intended for?’
‘Who?’ Calvino asked, beginning to run out of patience. ‘Who was it?’
Sasha said the name.
Calvino looked at him as if he saw water burn.
2
Marouan had done his best to keep a low profile all through the interrogation. By exerting an immense amount of effort, he’d managed to restrain his anger. But his desire for revenge ran deep. He knew better, but couldn’t stop wishing for a miracle: a sudden fit of madness that would incapacitate Kovalev for life, acute heart failure or a fatal epileptic seizure. And if all this wishful thinking didn’t help, he would pin his last hope on the Hand of God. Because Marouan, a weak man who’d made an error of judgement, had failed to kill Kovalev on the motorway.
Then again, given the creative slant of Kovalev’s ‘openhearted’ story, there probably wasn’t an inkling of hope. With his testimony, Kovalev had portrayed himself as a tireless crime-fighter. It was an epic tale verging on the heroic. Criminal sees the light! Shoots down two human traffickers to rescue a defenceless child from their clutches.
Besides, his story indicated he was willing to cooperate. He masterfully played his joker; revealed he was in possession of valuable information. The whole interrogation was nothing more than a crash course in ‘how to kiss ass to get into witness protection’.
And Calvino fell for it hook, line and sinker.
Marouan was only a stone’s throw away from being unmasked as the compulsive gambler he was. Thanks to years of financial support from top criminal Kovalev, he’d led a double life in which he’d deliberately misled his colleagues and superiors.
No way that was happening: not over his dead body!
‘I’ve been paying close attention, Cal,’ Marouan volunteered, after they’d stopped the recorder and gone out into the corridor to digest what they’d just heard. ‘One of us needs to, right?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The bastard is fucking with us. Kovalev’s lying through his teeth, trying to make us believe he’s got important information to save his own skin. But he doesn’t have anything. He’s only pretending. Stalling for time.’
Calvino stared at him.
‘Do you two know each other?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The way you look at each other. And you talk about him like you’ve known him forever.’
‘What are you getting at?’
‘On the motorway tonight you immediately addressed him in English.’
‘He’s Russian, goddamn it.’
‘How did you know that? Was he waving a Russian flag?’
‘Did you hear what I just said? That man’s fucking us where we breathe. And if my ears don’t deceive me, he’s already convinced you that your partner is a liar.’
‘Why did you call him a “Fucking Rasputin”?’
‘I aimed and fired. He should have stayed dead.’
There was an awkward silence. Joshua gave him a probing look.
‘Why did you want him dead so badly?’
Marouan was shitting himself. He had to be careful about what he said to Calvino.
‘You’re twisting my words, Cal. Don’t! I shot him in the chest. It happened in a split second.’
‘We’ll come back to this, okay?’
‘Come back to what? We’ve got a guy in custody who tried to gun down an ambulance driver and you’ve been completely taken in by him. Let’s talk about that!’
‘Give me one good reason, Diba, just one, why this man isn’t a valuable witness? Given what he’s told us about the shooting at the villa, the station wagon: it all fits. Then there’s also his connection to AtlasNet, as well as what he knows about Anglade’s suicide. If it’s all true, the Minister of Economic Affairs will soon have to step down. And yes, Kovalev is still a suspect, but as far as I see it, also a key witness.’
‘Do you hear yourself, Cal? “If it’s all true.” I’m telling you it isn’t. It’s a bullshit story. Told by a ruthless criminal who’s totally taken with a small Afghan boy. What is this, a Disney film?’
‘As soon as we get Tomasoa’s approval, we’ll hand our Russian friend over to the Special Witness Team. Whether he’s talking crap or not.’
Calvino stomped off, stopped abruptly and turned.
‘Do you want me to sort this out alone?’
‘Go ahead. I’ll stay here. I don’t really trust the guy.’
‘Whatever works for you.’
Joshua Calvino proceeded down the corridor. Marouan watched him go and then returned to the interrogation room, where he asked the policeman present to go get some coffee. Once the policeman had left, Marouan closed the door and went and stood across from Kovalev, who had a sinister look on his face.
‘You shitting in your pants yet, Diva?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Because of what’s going to happen if I start spilling the beans? Or are you hoping I’ll spare you? Is that it? Remind me why I should, given you tried to kill me?’
Marouan went to the table and leaned forward.
‘Because I’m your only way out, that’s why.’
Marouan reached into his pocket, took out the handcuff key and waved it in front of Kovalev’s face, like an altar boy swinging an incense burner during High Mass.
‘We’ll make it look like a struggle.’
Kovalev stared. First in disbelief, but that disbelief quickly turned to anger.
‘I was going to go away with the boy, remember? Vanish into thin air. Then you would’ve been rid of me. And vice versa. We were supposed to improvise, you and me. Our last performance. And the solo was yours. Did you forget that, asshole? You were going to shine again with that trigger-happy hitman from Moscow, who I offered up on a silver platter. But no, you let him get away! He shoots a cop and you let him get away!’
Marouan felt the blood draining from his face. He hurled the key into a corner and grasped the edge of the table. Kovalev raged on.
‘I’ll tell you what you are, Diva. You’re a dog, a flee-ridden stray who doesn’t recognize a bone when it’s being tossed right at him. You thought you’d kill me. I’m going to make sure you’re flushed through the sewer like the pile of shit you are. You disloyal mongrel!’
Marouan was amazed at the slowness with which he – despite his festering rage – approached Kovalev on the other side of the table. As he did so, he suddenly saw something in Kovalev’s eyes that he’d never seen in all those years.
Fear.
Fear of death, to be exact.
Marouan saw that Kovalev knew all too well what was awaiting him in this locked interrogation room.
3
‘What a mess,’ said a visibly stressed Tomasoa as he sat down and nobly tried not to jump to his feet immediately. Calvino had never seen his boss so agitated.
‘We’re going to have to hand over the case to the National Crime Agency. They have a special team for at-risk witnesses. They’ll do the follow-up interrogations. It’s out of our hands.’
‘But why can’t we do it ourselves, chief?’ Joshua could hardly contain his frustration.
‘Did you
hear me say that we can’t? We’re simply no longer allowed. Their team will thoroughly investigate everything Kovalev comes up with. Painstaking work that you and I aren’t cut out for, believe me. Only once they’ve finished checking all the filth that our Russian friend spews up will they put a deal on the table. Until then we’re on the sidelines watching. Not only good things come in threes, Calvino, also the bad ones. We almost lost a colleague, we let the perpetrator escape from the hospital, and now we have to hand over our suspect as a key witness. I’ve had better days.’
‘There’s probably more, chief,’ Joshua said hesitantly.
‘More misery, Calvino?’
‘Something that’s been bothering me for a while.’
‘If this is about emotions, you’re better off somewhere else. You know I’m not much of a shoulder to cry on.’
‘I have a feeling that Diba knows him.’
‘Who?’
‘Kovalev. The way the two interact with each other without saying a word. They know each other. I’m sure.’
Tomasoa didn’t reply. He stood up, slowly, much too slowly for him, and went to the window. He stood there, not moving a muscle, his hands in his pockets.
‘Do you know what you’re starting, Calvino?’ he finally said.
‘I think so.’
‘And you’re absolutely sure this isn’t personal?’
‘Of course it’s personal, chief. I’ve admired the guy for years, always wanted to work with him. But somewhere something went wrong. And every day I see it getting worse. Tonight was the last straw. I’m sick and tired of covering for him.’
Tomasoa turned. Joshua saw the deep lines in his face, his almost leering frown.
‘Facts, Calvino? Besides being disappointed in your partner, do you have any facts?’
‘Diba knocked on my door late last night and said he knew with one hundred per cent certainty that an attack on the boy was imminent. When he wouldn’t tell me who’d given him the info, I knew something was seriously wrong. After all, why keep your source a secret from your partner? During Kovalev’s interrogation I suddenly got my answer. Oddly enough, without even asking.’
Tomasoa listened without interrupting and gestured with a simple hand motion for Joshua to continue.
Butterfly on the Storm Page 38