“Thank you, Don Lauro,” I say, and everything clicks together. Now it makes sense. I want to call Alek, but I hear the door open at the end of the hall and the whoosh of the air filter. There's no time left.
As soon as the light from the private room pours into the hallway, I make my way to the end. Two of Stosh’s captains brush past me, and even though I don't look at them directly I can see their expressions. They’re surprised I'm here.
That only confirms what I thought.
As I enter the room, my eyes automatically sweep the surfaces for obvious signs of bugs or cameras. It's pointless, I know. Of course this room is bugged in some way, but I can't help but look out of habit. It seems like everybody is on on the surveillance game these days.
I close the door behind me and it makes a soft click. Stosh sits back in his leather club chair, bringing the fat cigar up to his smiling face. His grin is too wide, and I think I can see the tip of his tongue behind the spaces between his front teeth.
“Are you surprised to see me?”
Stosh shrugs one shoulder. “Of course not. Leon told me you were coming. There was some… Difficulty, I gather?”
“And does that surprise you?” I ask him directly as I sit in the chair across from him. I put both my hands on the armrests where he can see them, but when he gestures at the humidor on the table I shake my head. I don't want to be smoking right now.
“Does it surprise me?” he repeats slowly. His tongue comes out between his teeth and runs along his bottom lip, wetting it. He's enjoying this way too much. “Nothing surprises me anymore,” he says philosophically.
I pause for a moment, trying to assemble what I want to say to him. Really, I wish Alek was here. He's the one with all the words. It suddenly occurs to me that maybe I should just shoot him. That's my usual course of action. In fact, he may be thinking that's what I'm going to try to do anyway.
His dead, wolfish eyes flicker subtly toward my hands, apparently looking for signs of violence. Stupid. When I decide to shoot him, he's not going to see it coming until it's too late.
“So, explain to me what happened,” he says slowly. A huge cloud of smoke circles his head. “Were you able to finish the job Leon gave you?”
“Yes, I think that Balki has been properly reeducated.”
Stosh nods, then takes a drag on the cigar, popping his lips together.
“And? There's more?”
“Didn't you see it on the cameras, Stosh?” I ask him. His eyebrows go up at the outside corners and his eyes sparkle with amusement.
“Ah, the cameras. Well, as you remember, you blacked them out, yes?”
That's what I suspected. The cameras in the shop were Stosh’s. Or, somehow he has access to them. Cameras, always the cameras. Which means he knew Marco was there.
Which means he knew it was a trap. I try to continue talking like this is all right, like I don’t know he set me up to kill me.
“Oh yes, I remember now,” I say. “I did black out the cameras. So then you didn't see it?”
“Sadly, no. And those being older models, there is no audio either. It's a pity. That was probably one of the rare opportunities I might've had to watch the invisible man in action, eh? I'm sorry I missed it.”
I force my fingers not to dig into the arms of the club chair. It's everything I can do not to simply leap across the room and snap his neck like a chicken bone. Does he know what he's admitting to me? Is he so arrogant that he'll simply admit to sending me into a trap?
But the answer is probably simpler than that. He probably just assumes I'm stupid.
“Why was Marco Barakov there?” I say. I'm tired of dancing around. Alek would probably have done this differently, probably have drawn information out of him bit by bit like pulling threads, so slowly and sneakily that Stosh would never have noticed.
But I'm not Alek.
“Oh, Marco… Marco…” Stosh mumbles. His upper lip twitches into a subtle snarl. “Yes, that was an unfortunate surprise…”
“You were surprised?”
“Of course I was surprised, Roman. What else would I be?”
“Stosh, how long you been in this neighborhood?” I ask him.
He scowls at my disrespect. “Roman, I'm sorry but I need to ask you to please finish your story. Once you've made your report, then we can talk about other things, compare histories. But first, I need to understand what happened at Balki's shop, please.”
I push myself forward slightly in my chair and watch with relish as he leans back the same amount. It's good that he's frightened of me. Very good.
“When I arrived at Balki’s, I closed the door, blacked out the cameras, and attempted to start a conversation with Balki. Marco entered from the back room with a piece. He shot me. So I ended him.”