“And now we’re stuck with her.” Dylan shook his head angrily.
“Master, please, this girl desperately needs your help.”
“No. This is out of my league. That girl needs to be in a psych ward. I can’t help someone like her. All I’ll be doing is exposing myself when they come looking for her. And you can be sure her face will be on every television and newspaper.”
“No.” Mary shook her head. “Brian wouldn’t want that to happen, because then…”
“Brian won’t want anything, because he’s dead, along with some woman.”
Mary’s mouth fell open. “The blood on her clothes… She killed them?”
“With a hatchet, after she’d chopped off the head of a kitten. That’s your fucking innocent psychopath in there.”
“No.” Mary shook her head. “She didn’t kill the kitten. She told me about her kitten and how the bad man and woman had killed it in front of her.”
“Well, she certainly got her revenge. And now we’re going to take her back, dump her in the closest town and let the authorities deal with her.”
“Master, I think that would probably be the worst thing you could do.”
Dylan peered at her. “And why is that?”
“Because it’s certain that she will mention both you and me. I may have accidentally introduced myself.”
It was becoming harder not to put his hands around her neck. Dylan breathed deeply, trying to keep calm. “Alright, but how serious will they take her when she’s starts telling them she’s an eight year old girl named Tammy?”
Mary frowned thoughtfully. “It’s probably not a coincidence that she’s chosen that age. From what I understand about psychological abuse, a victim can regress to an age where they last felt safe. That wound on her ankle suggests to me that her suffering was ongoing, and from what you’ve told me, I now know that she wasn’t a party to this whole deception. Good lord, maybe that’s why she chose eight years.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Mary. What deception?”
“You must have seen it.” Mary stared at him. “There must have been other evidence at that house to suggest that she was imprisoned or hidden away somehow.”
Dylan frowned. “There was a pit in the shed, where I found the kitten. From what I observed, I believe she may have been down there for some time.”
“Oh, dear god.” Mary suddenly grabbed his arms. “Eight years. She’s been in that pit for eight years.”
“How the hell would you know that?”
She looked at him helplessly. “Because that’s when she went missing, Master, on their honeymoon. It happened off this very coast.”
“What?”
“They were aboard Brian’s boat and Ashley fell overboard and her body was never recovered. As far as the world is aware, Ashley Tait has been dead for eight years.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rimutaka Prison, New Zealand, December 2013
A metal panel slid back and a guard peered into the cell. “Eddie, you have a visitor.”
Eddie Utkin looked up from his book and stared cynically at the face filling the square aperture. “Let me guess. The warden has given me a whore for Christmas.”
The guard chuckled as he opened the door. “Would you even know what to do with a whore anymore, Eddie?”
“I’m fifty-seven,” he growled, getting up from his bunk and removing his glasses. “Not a hundred and seven, and twelve years is a long time to be without a woman.”
The guard looked ready to say something amusing, but shook his head. For an older man and a few inches over six feet, Eddie was still intimidating, possessing a lean, muscled body. His bearded face was deeply lined and wrinkled, but his grey hair was abundant and long, held back in a ponytail. Like many of the inmates, he was heavily tattooed.
“So are you joking about this visitor, or what?” Eddie asked.
“No joke, Eddie. You’ve finally got one after all these years.”
“Who is it?”
“Some foreign lawyer,” the guard shrugged. “Apparently, there’s family matters he wishes to discuss.”
Eddie stared at the guard and quietly allowed him to put handcuffs on and lead him out of his cell. The guard continued to talk cheerfully as he led him along the corridor, past the other cells. “So, you getting excited?”
When he got no reply, he glanced at his prisoner and smirked at his sombre expression. “Don’t go getting all emotional, Eddie. I’m sure everything’s okay. We’re going to put you in the interview room, give you some quality time and let you have a little privacy.”
Eddie remained silent. Upon entering the small room, he was sat at a metal table and was surprised as the handcuffs were removed. Looking around, he couldn’t see a single camera and his skin began to prickle.
He frowned at the guard. “Is this going to hurt much?”
The guard laughed. “Always suspicious, eh, Eddie? You’ve been locked up way too long. As far as I know, it’s just family business.”
“You don’t know my family.”
“Well, this fellow doesn’t look very dangerous to me. Good looking, friendly with a big fat wallet.” He patted Eddie’s shoulder and laughed. “And it’ll be good for you, having your own kind here.”
“My own kind?”
“Yeah, you know, Russian or whatever you are. Well, his name sounds Russian, and he’s got that whole accent thing going on like you. Anyway, I’ll leave you to your guest.”
The guard left the room, but Eddie remained seated, staring at the door. It was several minutes later when another guard entered, and was followed by a tall, blonde and attractive man, dressed in an expensive suit and carrying a manila folder. He shook hands with the guard and closed the door after him.
Eddie watched as the man grinned and approached. He looked to be in his mid-thirties and there was something familiar about him.
“Uncle Eddie, it is good to see you again. It’s been some years.”
Eddie stayed seated and stared at him. “Who are you?”
“Yuri, Uncle,” the man replied. “I was six when you saw me last, at my father’s funeral.”
His answer took Eddie’s breath away, as he slowly rose to his feet. “Yuri?”
There was a shine in Yuri’s eyes as he stared back. “May I greet you, Uncle?”
Eddie nodded, the emotion swelling in his chest as the younger man hugged him strongly, laying a kiss on each cheek. They held each for a while, before Eddie stepped back and peered at him.
“How the fuck did you find me?”
“There’s a lot we can change about ourselves, Uncle, but tattoos aren’t so easy to hide. A few years ago, one of my older men did a short stint in here. He recognised some of your tattoos, particularly the one of a knife put there by my father, and the snake twisted around your arm, a boa constrictor, I believe.”
He turned back, glaring at Yuri. “And it’s taken you this long to contact me?”
“My apologies, Uncle,” he smiled. “I’m a businessman, and it doesn’t look good to be seen in these places. Besides, you went to great lengths to leave your heritage and family behind you.”
“With good reason,” Eddie added firmly.
“Of course. And we were very pleased to learn that you are alive, having believed you long dead. We thought a reunion would be better served once you were out, which is only a month away, I believe.”
Eddie nodded, as he sat down. “So what are you doing here now?”
“Family business, Uncle.”
“Maybe this is not the best place to discuss any business.”
“We can speak freely,” Yuri assured him in Russian. “Your keepers have been well compensated for our privacy, but if it helps to ease your fears, we will speak in our own language.”
Eddie grinned and replied back in Russian. “So you have power as well as money. Your father would be proud.”
“Maybe not. The majority of my dealings are done legitimately and, like you, I no
longer have our family name. I am now Yuri Nikolaev.”
“There is no shame in that,” Eddie shrugged. “Even before I left our homeland, the name of Ivanchenko was despised and feared. There was always someone wanting to kill us or arrest us.”
“And in one night, there was barely any of us left. You were the only one who survived the assassination, and then you ran.”
Eddie stared at him. “If you’re looking for any remorse from me, you’re wasting your time. Or is it something else you’re looking for?”
“No, Uncle,” Yuri smiled. “You were one man against a ruthless killer. I’ve heard the stories and I don’t blame you for running, but what if I told you this man is still alive and living right here in New Zealand?”
“I’d say it was time to move countries.” Eddie studied him, looking for any sign that he was joking.
“That won’t be easy with your conviction, Uncle, unless you want to be deported back to Russia. I don’t recommend it. New Zealand has a far more productive climate.”
“So what is the purpose of this visit? Have you come to say goodbye, Yuri?”
“No, Uncle,” he smiled. “I’ve come to tell you that you are not alone and you have a family waiting for when you get out. Do you remember my sister?”
“Asya,” Eddie replied. “She was a baby when your father died.”
Yuri reached into his pocket, brought out a photograph and set it down in front of Eddie. “And now she’s a woman, beautiful, smart and tough.”
Eddie picked up the photo and saw an attractive young blonde in army fatigues.
“That was taken ten years ago,” Yuri explained. “She’s long been finished with the army, and photos of her aren’t easy to come by anymore, not since she took up more covert employment at home. She’s fluent in several languages and has had several assignments with the FSB and foreign intelligence, intercepting communications through phones and computers. Several weeks ago, she was alerted to a photo that had been circulating the internet. Someone had posted an image of a man that had become somewhat popular among the women in our country. There was particular mention of his so called sexy eyes. When Asya saw the photo, she was reminded of others she had come by, several years ago, of a man in hospital, bearing our father’s symbols on his body.”
Yuri opened his manila folder, rotated it and pushed it towards Eddie. “We are hoping you might recognise him.”
Eddie slowly lowered his eyes and stared at a face he had never expected to see again. The man was older but there was no mistaking his eyes. “Yes, I knew him. Jahn Zaleski and he was a friend of your father’s.”
Yuri smirked. “His friend, or his assassin? According to the reports that night, a man of similar description was seen watching the destruction of Papa’s hotel. Some of the whores said that he had got them to leave the hotel before it blew up. What do you think, Uncle? Did this man murder my father and your brothers?”
Eddie stared at the photo. “That was thirty years ago. Jahn was about eighteen then, but was he capable? Absolutely. He could make a bomb out of anything, a few household products and a few bits of wire, but he was in the army at that time.”
“Which would have given him access to more than just a few household products and wire. Was there enmity between him and Papa?”
“Your father loved him like a son, but they had many differences of opinions, especially when it came to women. Your father didn’t care how his retributions were carried out, but Jahn wouldn’t allow women and children to be harmed. Anyway, even if it was him, what makes you believe he is still in New Zealand?”
Yuri took two more photos and placed them in front of Eddie. He pointed to the first. “This one was taken in 1999 and we can see it is the same man. This other one, it’s harder to be certain, but it was taken only two months ago by a woman who believes it is the same man in all of them. The man she seeks is called Dylan Tyler.”
“What woman?”
“A lawyer, Adele Easton, who is facing charges of fraud and attempted murder. From what we understand, she’s attempting to make a defence citing Zaleski as having produced false evidence against her, or something like that. We have been keeping a close eye on her efforts in finding him, but at the moment she has a problem which we want to solve for her.”
“What problem?”
“Are you familiar with a fellow inmate named Barry Underhill?”
Eddie smirked angrily. “Yeah, I know him, not as intimately as some as the younger men.”
“We’d like for him not to bother anyone again. Would this be something you could do?”
“With my release so close?” Eddie shrugged. “Yeah, why not? It will be my parting gift to my friends in here.”
“He has a contact on the outside, a woman, holding evidence for him. It is likely that she visits him.”
Eddie nodded. “I’ll find out. So what is this Adele Easton to do with Zaleski?”
“Nothing of importance, except in her determination to find him. When that photo was posted to the internet, Asya made contact and it was Adele who replied, allowing us access to her computer.”
“Which does what?”
Yuri chuckled. “It does a lot, Uncle. It’s like being right there with her, seeing what she sees, allowing us access to all her files and emails…”
“I’ll believe you,” Eddie scowled. “I don’t understand any of this technology bullshit.”
“But Asya does,” Yuri grinned. “And this technology bullshit will help us find our man.”
“Asya could only be what… thirty or so? Why is she so set on finding Zaleski, when she should be having babies and living a proper life?”
Yuri frowned. “Things got bad after you left, Uncle. Without the protection of our father, or any of the men of our family, our lives became extremely unpleasant, especially for Asya. She was seven years old when she saw our mother raped and murdered by someone who had a problem with our family. I was away studying at the time. After that we had to go live with Aunt Klara and Semyon.”
“Pavel’s wife and son. Where are they now?”
“Aunt Klara took another husband, Alexei Nikolaev, an old man and a prominent member of the Politburo. Semyon eventually followed him into inner circles of the Kremlin and we both adopted his surname. Asya refused to be anything other than Ivanchenko for many years, until she realised how much it could hurt her.”
“It was a respected name once,” Eddie said. “Until too many people became terrified of it. Your father’s answer was to build an even bigger and more terrifying regime, until it all ended in one night. Now it is best for all of us if it fades into obscurity.”
“Asya doesn’t see it that way,” Yuri said. “She even keeps her original driver’s licence, the last official documentation of her name as Asya Ivanchenko. She swears it will be her name again one day. I didn’t understand her dedication until she found the man who had killed our mother. She showed me photos of his mutilated body and told me how his death had been drawn out over a few days, during which time she killed his wife and children in front of him.”
Eddie breathed deeply. “She’s her father’s daughter alright.”
“She is,” Yuri nodded. “And you will see her in a month or so.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Eddie smiled. “Just don’t let Zaleski become aware of you.”
“And that’s why we need Adele Easton, but he’s one man, Uncle. Admittedly, an elusive one, but still, just a man.”
“Underestimating him would be your first mistake.” Eddie leaned towards him. “When you think you know who you’re dealing with, think again. This man alone has taken out an entire syndicate. Don’t alert him to what you’re doing and whatever you do, don’t get him angry. You wouldn’t like him when he gets angry.”
Yuri laughed. “I am not afraid of this man.”
“That would be your second mistake. I’m warning you, Yuri, stay vigilant.”
“We will, Uncle, we will.” Yuri grinned and got to his
feet. “So we can count on Adele Easton’s problem being solved?”
“I said I would.”
“Thank you, Uncle, and don’t worry. If he begins to suspect anything, it will be Adele he goes after. He won’t be aware of our existence until the trap has closed on him, and then it will be much too late.”
“And I suppose Asya will be dealing with him personally.”
“She has already made that perfectly clear.”
Eddie got up and gripped Yuri’s hand and embraced him. “It is good to see you, Yuri.”
“And you, too, Uncle, and we will look forward to your release, but tell me, what got you put in here?”
“Stupidity. I was drunk and half asleep at a bar one night. Three men decided to lift my wallet and I objected… violently. I pleaded guilty to their manslaughter.”
Yuri chuckled. “We were a powerful family once. Maybe Asya is right and we will make it so again one day.”
When he was gone, Eddie took his seat again and sighed deeply. The guard returned, grinning as he put the cuffs back on.
“So all good news, Eddie?”
“I’m not so sure, Frank,” Eddie replied. “Some things should be left alone, but if you poke a sleeping bear, then you’d better be prepared for it to roar.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Wellington, New Year’s Eve, 2013
By nine thirty, Brendan was still sitting in his car in a city car park as they’d instructed. It was bad enough the setting was reminiscent of unpleasant events, but with them being half an hour late, his mood was declining rapidly. He checked again that he was out of view of the security cameras, and then looked at his face in the rear view mirror.
Without his beard, and sporting a new haircut, he felt like a different man. The crisp feeling of a new shirt, jacket and trousers helped with that, though the new shoes were still stiff and pinching. It amused him that he wanted to look good for a whore and hoped the sentiment would be returned.
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