The Nameless Ones by John Connolly

Chapter LIII

Zorya and Zivco Ilić sat with the Vuksans, the drapes closed against the dark. On the table before them was a picture of the Dutchman, Hendricksen.

‘Could he be one of those who killed Aleksej in Paris?’ said Spiridon.

‘No,’ said Ilić. ‘I checked his hotel reservation. He was in Vienna when Aleksej died, but he may be working for the same people.’

‘Then why is he still breathing?’

‘The timing wasn’t right,’ said Zorya.

‘We didn’t know enough about him to act without caution,’ Ilić added, exchanging a look with Zorya. Under the present circumstances, it didn’t seem wise to tell the Vuksans that they had decided not to target Hendricksen because Zorya had experienced a premonition of danger.

Ilić noticed that Radovan appeared distracted.

‘Is there something we should know?’ said Ilić.

‘Gavrilo Dražeta and his wife are dead,’ said Radovan.

‘How?’

‘Their throats were cut.’

‘By whom?’

‘Does it matter?’ said Radovan. ‘It probably didn’t even matter to them. A cut throat is a cut throat. But if I had to guess, I’d say it was the Turks.’

‘What could Gavrilo have told them about us?’ said Ilić. ‘He didn’t know where we were going, did he?’

Radovan was quiet for a time. When he finally opened his mouth, he did so only to lie.

‘No,’ said Radovan, ‘Gavrilo didn’t know anything.’

Zorya and Ilić departed, leaving the brothers alone.

‘Why didn’t you tell him the truth about Gavrilo?’ said Spiridon.

‘Because the odds are already against us, and Zivco has an instinct for self-preservation that may outweigh even his loyalty to you. If he feels we’re without hope, he could decide to cut his losses and run, and we need him. Also, if he’s located by our enemies, what he knows could endanger us. We have to keep him close.’

‘You shouldn’t have shared anything with Gavrilo,’ said Spiridon. ‘It was a mistake.’

‘How could I have anticipated what would happen in Paris?’ said Radovan. ‘As far as we were concerned, our only worry was Belgrade, and it wouldn’t have dared permit action against Gavrilo, not even if it meant laying hands on us. Gavrilo had too many old friends back home, all of them with long memories.’

Spiridon’s eyes went vacant for a moment. Radovan thought he might be remembering a time when he had more friends, at home and elsewhere.

‘How do you want to proceed?’ said Spiridon.

‘Zorya and Zivco will speak with the Dutchman, and then we’ll know more.’

‘And Frend?’ said Spiridon. Zorya had told him that she believed the lawyer to be wavering.

‘He’s looking for a way out,’ said Radovan, ‘for all of us.’

In the apartment above his office, Frend listened for a moment more before hanging up the phone. He poured himself a drink. His hands were shaking. Eight of the Vuksans’ accounts had been emptied entirely, and the funds transferred to accounts in Belgrade. Five more had been frozen on the orders of Interpol’s Financial Crimes Unit. Four minor accounts remained undiscovered, and Frend had taken steps to close them and move the money, but the action was too little, too late.

The Vuksans had just been pauperized.