The Suitcase

by T V Scribner

  Feeling smug, Lenny was confident the thumb drive was in the possession of the female detective, whom he had followed the other night to her boyfriend's apartment. All he had to do, was lie to Zolotov about Ivan, and figure a way to get the drive into his own hands. He felt sure it would be in his possession soon. His next chore was to communicate with Zolotov, and let him know he was still on the trail, of the thumb drive.

  With my newly formulated plan, he thought, I’ll be the one to find the drive and reach out to those interested in the information it possesses. The money will be mine! Yes, that's what I’ll do, and no one will be the wiser. If I keep telling Zolotov, I can’t find the drive, I can disappear, as soon as the reward is in my hands. He wasted no time in calling Zolotov, when he returned to his apartment, from Ivan’s.

  "What happened when you met Ivan? Did he have thumb drive?" Zolotov asked.

  "No."

  "What?” Zolotov screamed

  "Wait, just listen! I questioned him, but he wouldn't cooperate, so I had to play rough to find out what he knew. But finally," Lenny said smugly. “he gave me the name of the person who does have the drive."

  "Who has it?" Zolotov asked.

  "It's that female detective!"

  "What about Ivan?"

  "Well, boss—I mean Mr. Z—since Ivan knew too much, I made sure he wouldn't be available to talk. He was gonna go to the authorities, man! I had to!" Lenny wheedled.

  "You fool! What have you done now?" Zolotov shouted, "The cops will be nosing around again!” Once more, the phone disconnected.

  "Whatever!” Lenny said. He shrugged, and put his phone in his back pocket. He was hungry. He hadn't had dinner, so he left his apartment and headed towards his favorite, scuzzy pizza place, but in his opinion, they did have really great pizza—nice and cheesy—it was his favorite food.

  CHAPTER 23

  Russia

  Tazvoshenko reached the warehouse where the communication center of his organization was located. It was imperative for him to contact Zolotov, after the urgent coded message he'd just received over night. He proceeded to the communications room and made the early morning secure call, to Zolotov, in Minnesota.

  Brainerd Zolotov’s phone rang just after midnight, and woke him out of his sleep. He involuntarily cringed, because it could be only one person. "Yes,” he answered coolly. It was early morning for Tazvoshenko, in Russia, but middle of the night, for Zolotov. However, Tazvoshenko was not concerned with the time.

  "What is happening," Tazvoshenko demanded, "where are my coordinates?"

  "Comrade, I've been expecting your call." Zolotov said, and sat bolt upright in bed. Trying to sound self-assured and wide awake, he continued, "Let me explain why I send urgent message to you. I have bad news. The thumb drive, with coordinates, fell into wrong hands, and I, Zolotov, have alerted my men to use all our resources to locate it! We will have it soon, then I will immediately...." He never finished his sentence.

  Tazvoshenko interrupted, ”What do you mean, fallen into wrong hands!” He was livid, and called Zolotov a variety of names. After his cursing and sputtering, he managed to regain his composure long enough, to inquire how and why, something of this magnitude occurred!

  "Let me explain," Zolotov squeaked out.

  "Yes, please explain to me now! I must know how something derails years of effort, and places my organization in peril. How could this happen? You Idiot! People have already paid big money to me, and will hunt to kill all of us—and not in a merciful way—if I don’t deliver!” Slowly, in his most menacing voice, he added, “These people are ruthless! Do you understand?"

  Zolotov, sweating profusely, had no chance to utter a word during the tirade, and stuttered a moment, until he found his voice again, "I, I...understand your concern..." he began, but his voice sounded strained and weak, and he was unable to continue.

  Tazvoshenko began another tirade, and finally declared Zolotov anathema to him. "You understand my concern? Bah! You trivialize and refer to this, as a concern? I must know what happened—please continue!” He made every effort to gain control of himself again, so he could listen.

  Zolotov threw his bed covers back, and began pacing back and forth, "Kamorov, stole thumb drive before I transmit information. He was murdered. The drive disappears into hands of others, but…we close in on perpetrator!"

  Livid, upon hearing how ineptly his top man, with his bunch of buffoons, had handled something of such importance, Tazvoshenko responded, "Stop at nothing to retrieve it,” he growled, then conveyed his plans for the next several days. “Make sure you organize the group of men I transferred to Brainerd area, during last six months, for the retrieval of the chemodan!”

  "Yes, yes, we will be ready," Zolotov nervously assured him.

  "Now,” he cleared his throat, "who is person taking our thumb drive?"

  "We think is Kamorov's friend, Ivan Belenski," Zolotov said, using the information Lenny fed him.

  "Aha! Where is this Ivan? He must give you thumb drive!"

  How to tell him? Zolotov thought, then said, "He did not have thumb drive, but do not worry, we took care of him. He will talk to no one, and now my man knows who really has thumb drive—female detective with Pinecrest Police Department has it. We will retrieve it!"

  Tazvoshenko couldn’t believe his ears, and calmly said. “What is name of this detective?”

  “Her name is Paisley Ingles.” There was no sound from the Russia side of the conversation. Zolotov waited quietly.

  “Who is this Ivan’s murderer? Find out and kill him too—no loose ends!" Tazvoshenko finally demanded. “Now, send men to encampment. Ready them for retrieval. You will need information on thumb drive! We will send another, let me know when it arrives. Do not lose this time, if you value your life!"

  "Yes, yes, of course I will!”

  “You must be prepared for execution of mission.”

  “Yes, we are preparing.” Zolotov decided it best to leave out the information about Kamorov, attempting to contact Feds about the thumb drive, for a big cash-out, since Kamorov was murdered before he followed through with his plan! If Tazvoshenko knew, he would be even angrier, and he was angry enough, already!

  When the call ended, Tazvoshenko decided to take things into his own hands, and made several calls to his men stationed in Minnesota, to kidnap this female detective, and do whatever they needed to do, to wring the whereabouts of the jump drive, out of her.

  Meanwhile Zolotov dressed and left the house, and though it was not quite one in the morning, it would take time to reach his contact’s cabin. The contact had been helping them scope out the area in the Iron Range, as to where their camps should be based, to find Tazvoshenko’s chemodan.

  "There is much for you to do tomorrow!" Tazvoshenko's words rang in Zolotov's head, as he arrived back in Brainerd, from his early morning mission. It was mid-morning, as he pulled up to his house, with his mission accomplished. The man was dead and would tell no tails. Now he must turn his attention to the preparations. Zolotov's orders, were to prepare. It was time to assemble the men, who were sent from Russia, to areas of Minnesota in the vicinity of Brainerd, and Crosby/Ironton.

  When Zolotov placed the call, to his second in command, Nicholas Illich, it rang five times, before he picked up and said, "Dobroye utro."

  "Good morning,” Zolotov responded. "I just spoke with our leader in Russia, and he said is time to prepare. I will explain to you, but not over phone, we must meet."

  "When and where?" Illich asked.

  Zolotov thought for a moment, "Make it usual place…we will eat. Be there at five—alone." The call was ended.

  Storm clouds gathered all morning, and later in the afternoon after Zolotov napped, the weather finally produced a steady rain. Zolotov gathered his important papers, shoved them into a large manila folder and wrapped it in a plastic bag to keep it dry, then left for his meeting. As he drove, he watched in his rear view mirror, to make sure he no one followed. He couldn't be sure anym
ore, now that he knew a detective in the Police Department had the thumb drive!

  Arriving in a nearby town, he parked in the small lot of a little family owned restaurant, named Little Russia, which served great homemade Russian food. Zolotov held clandestine meetings here on other occasions, because of its discreet atmosphere. He jogged through the rain to the entrance, entered and glanced around to see if Illich had arrived. There were only a few local farmers having their evening meal, so he took a seat in the back corner to wait. He slid into a booth and shortly thereafter, Illich entered and joined him.

  After exchanging greetings, they both ordered. Illich ordered borscht, and Zolotov ordered stroganoff, the house special, along with a bowl of pickled cucumbers and a plate of stuffed eggs for appetizers. "Vodka?" He asked, and Illich nodded. Moments later, the diminutive Russian woman brought their food and drink, then paid them no attention, as she went about wiping tables and taking care of other diners.

  The two men proceeded to eat in silence. When the meal was over, Zolotov said, "I spoke with Tazvoshenko, he wants us to set up designated site for operation, soon as possible." He paused to sip his vodka, then continued, “Our men must be contacted and divided into teams. You will put one team in charge of assembling trucks, one for SUV's, vans and armored vehicles, and another team for trucks needed to haul supplies, equipment, and men to site."

  Leaning back in his chair, Illich asked, "Do we know where the site is?"

  Illich, did not have a strong Russian accent like Zolotov, who answered, "We have general area selected for encampment." Zolotov belched, then leaned forward and folded his arms on the table, adding "Tazvoshenko will send exact coordinates...have Nestor Popov, plot covert directions to draw least attention to staging area. He must make maps and give copies to drivers."

  "Okay, what else?"

  "What about scientists, Nogorsky and Edonov? I trust they arrive?" Zolotov asked.

  "Yes, they arrived a week ago and all their equipment is organized in their van. They are ready." Illich watched Zolotov open his manila folder and shove papers towards him.

  Zolotov glanced over his shoulder, to see if anyone was paying attention. No one was. In a lowered voice, he said, "Here, look at these."

  Illich picked up the sheaf of papers containing lists of items to be assembled from the various warehouses, where supplies had been stocked and stored, over the last months. After looking over a few pages, Illich said, "This is very detailed, it will be easy to do." He took ten minutes more to glance over the rest of the papers, then looked up at Zolotov. "Okay, I’ll put this in motion."

  "We must be ready to leave late tomorrow, so we can set up camp, ready to execute mission, soon as Tazvoshenko gives order. You do this, Illich?"

  Illich put the papers back in the envelope, and answered, "Of course."

  Zolotov took money from his wallet and put it on the table to cover the meal, "Most men will stay at site. You, Lev, several others and I, will be last to arrive. Make no mistakes with these orders," he menaced, “because one word from Tazvoshenko, and Viktor or Oleg, Tazvoshenko's men who come here as observers, will not have problem offing us. Do not doubt! Tazvoshenko's long arm stretches from Russia, to Minnesota!"

  "Understood." Illich felt duly warned and involuntarily shuddered, as he inserted the envelope back in the plastic bag, and rose from the table to leave.

  Zolotov stayed back for a moment giving Illich time to drive away, before he exited the restaurant. The following morning, Zolotov, in a rotten mood, dressed and went downstairs for his morning espresso. His men arrived at the appointed time, and he urged them towards a waiting van and growled, "Get in! We go to meet with others. I want to arrive before rest of men."

  Seeing Zolotov's dark countenance, his men scurried to grab their weapons, and tossed their gear in the vehicles, in readiness to leave for their rendezvous with the rest of the men and equipment. Several hours later, they pulled up to a large warehouse, hidden in the woods, northeast of town, where they spent the day going over plans, assembling equipment and gathering supplies needed for the journey ahead. When all the men were ready, and the transports were lined up, it was quite an assemblage.

  Zolotov gathered everyone into a clearing to explain their mission, "You are going to prearranged location to set up working camp, and wait for confirmation of coordinates. We set up so all is ready, when last information is delivered."

  There was murmuring amongst the men, and one of them called out, "When do we leave?"

  Ignoring this man, Zolotov said, "Tazvoshenko will exact retribution should we fail. Commander Nicholas, will arrive later, and I will follow when I receive final orders. You leave now!”

  With that admonition, the men took their places in the vehicles, and a parade of transports, vans, SUVs, and trailer beds filled with large equipment rolled by, headed for the back roads to their new location to set up and wait until further notice. Zolotov, Lev and their driver took their SUV and headed back to town.

  CHAPTER 24

  Friday, May 19, 2017

  Pinecrest

  Friday morning, traffic was heavier than usual, as Paisley followed Boone's car. They stopped to grab donuts and coffee at a gas station, and exiting their cars, Paisley looked up at the blanket of dark, menacing clouds, covering the sky. It was already misting rain, heralding a Minnesota storm. By the time, they hurried back to their cars, mist had turned into a heavy rain, creating puddles everywhere in the parking lot.

  Rain slowed the traffic, and when they arrived at the precinct, and parked she said, "Looks like we're in for it..the rest of today and tomorrow, at least, according to my weather app. Did you hear the thunder and lightning last night?"

  "A time or two, but I was so tired, I slept through the worst."

  "Glad I wore my boots, and heavy coat!” With her head down, she pulled up her hood, as they ran the rest of the way, to the precinct entrance.

  Once inside, they went their separate ways, after agreeing to meet just before lunch, to talk over new developments on their case, and coordinate new facts. Paisley’s’ main objective for the morning, was to show the picture of Kamorov's tattoo to Millie, but when she entered the office, Millie hadn't arrived yet, so she removed the photo of the tattoo from her briefcase, and readied herself to pounce.

  Just then, the door opened and Millie bustled in. "Ha! I've been waiting for you,” Paisley said. "As soon as you get organized, I have something I want you to see,” she said excitedly.

  "Sure?" Millie looked at her with curiosity, as she put her purse down and hung her wet jacket on the coat tree, "Whew! That’s some storm! Now, whatcha got?" She walked around her own desk and stood next to Paisley, perching on the corner of her desk, with her arms folded.

  "Look at this!" Paisley laid the photocopy of the tattoo flat on the desk, smoothing it with her hands, then said, "Have you ever seen this tattoo?"

  Millie, taken aback for a moment, asked, "Is that a corpse's arm?"

  "Yes."

  Millie leaned over the desk and stared, "Hmmm...."

  She couldn't stand the suspense and said, "So—does this tattoo resemble the one on the arm of the guy, who came into the office looking for what he called, a thumb drive?"

  "Yes, yes, like the one I saw. Sorry, it through me off for a minute to see a dead man's arm!"

  "I knew it! Thanks, Millie," and she rushed out of the office, photocopy in hand, and headed for Boone's office.

  Disappointed, to discover Boone wasn't there, she left a sticky note on his desk, requesting him to call her as soon as he returned. Where could he be? Deflated, she headed back to her office, stopping by the lab to find out if forensics had finished with Kamorov's computer. Again, she was put off. All they told her, was the fingerprints they tested so far, belonged to Kamorov, but there were still more tests to be run.

  "Okay, but please let me know, as soon as you're through...I'll be in my office."

  "You weren't gone very long," Millie chided, when Paisley wal
ked in, "however a call came in a couple of minutes ago, and it went to voicemail. You might want to listen to it, before getting started on something else. By the way, how are things going, Pais since...the break-in?" Millie hadn’t wanted to bring up the subject too soon, and upset her.

  "Pretty good, all things considered.”

  "It's so awful! Did you stay at your house last night?" Millie asked, while sorting papers to file.

  Putting her elbows on her desk, Paisley clasped her hands, and answered, "No, I stayed at Boone's again. I was talked into it, because he thought it was still too dangerous, to go back to the farm house."

  Millie produced a mischievous grin and said, "Well, how exciting! I think he likes you, Pais!"

  "C'mon, Millie! It's not like that!" She laughed at the expression on Millie's face. "Quit trying to play cupid! We're two people working on a murder case, and that's all."

  "I'm just sayin' Pais," and with a guileless facial expression, started typing one of her reports

  "Thanks, Millie," she grinned and added, "but there's no there, there,” adding, "I'm gonna listen to the message now," and with a business-like glance at Millie, hit play-back to hear her message.

  It was Boone. ”Grab your rain gear and meet me in the precinct garage immediately!"

  Curious, Paisley called back and said, "Be right there, what's up?"

  "There's been another murder," he said, and gave her a couple of details.

  "Are you okay?" Millie said with concern, when she saw the shocked look on her face.

  "I'm fine, but I have to go with Detective Boone right now—there's been another murder, and you'll never guess who!"

  "Not another one!" Millie put her hands on her cheeks and her jaw dropped in surprise. "So, who is it, Pais?"

  "One of Kamorov's friends!"

  Boone was in the precinct parking lot waiting for her, as she rushed out, and hopped in the car. When they were on their way, she asked, “Where was the body discovered?"