Part 24 (1/2)
”Jesus,” Judd breathed.
Katia described meeting her father a final time, and the diagnosis of cancer. ”He said someone was taking care of him.... I think he called him Seymour.... I'll give you the contact information, but it may not be good anymore.”
Eva felt a surge of excitement.
But instead of Katia's giving instructions, there was a long pause.
In the car, Judd decided, ”I think Katia's not talking because she's writing it out for him.”
”Bad luck for us,” Eva said, frustrated.
At last Katia spoke again: ”Here's the phone number.”
A few seconds later, Pyotr asked, ”Baghdad?”
”He'd been in Baghdad for years,” she confirmed.
Katia told Pyotr what to say when he dialed the number, then the phone rang, and the couple left the room. The recording ended.
In the car, Eva and Judd were silent.
”Poor sods,” he said at last. ”At least they died fast.”
”Some consolation. Like choosing the flavor of your poison.”
He nodded. ”Pyotr may have been a master emotional manipulator, but in the end, it sure looks as if his own feelings took over. He let his guard down when they left the garage. He got them both killed.”
They drove southwest on Avenue Guema.s.sa past groves of citrus trees. The number of camels, donkeys, and carts were few. Ahead loomed the modern Marrakech-Menara International Airport.
Eva sighed. ”All we salvaged out of this mess was incomplete directions to Seymour, and no guarantee he's still in Baghdad. Are you sure you want to go back to Bosa's plane and report in?”
He glanced at her. ”Other than the usual risk of working with him, did you have something else in mind?” He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, studying her.
As she drove, she focused on the street and changed the subject. ”I didn't see another tail on the Citron while we were following it, did you?”
”No. Go on.”
”Pyotr said he was sure no one had followed them into the souk. So if no one followed them, and no one besides us followed the baggage, how did the motorcyclist know to be at the garage door, ready to kill Pyotr?” Without waiting for him to respond, she continued. ”Of course, Liza could've called the motorcyclist to alert him, but I doubt she'd betray Pyotr.”
”Your deduction?”
”Someone followed us. The only person we told what we were doing and who had reason to terminate Pyotr was the Carnivore. He knew we were waiting at their hotel. He knew our rental car was around the block. When we talked to him on the phone, he might not have been on the plane. He could've been staking out our car. What I don't understand is how we missed a motorcycle on our tail.”
”If he planted a transmitter on our car just as we did on the Citron, he would've been able to stay out of sight as he tailed us.” He hesitated. ”There's something I'm missing. A piece of logic, maybe.”
”I don't think the Carnivore lied to us about anything ... at the same time, I'm equally sure he hasn't told us the complete truth. What worries me is he may wait so long to fill us in that he'll put us in danger. Sometimes I wonder whether he considers us expendable.”
”He went to a h.e.l.l of a lot of trouble to save us from the Padre,” Judd said.
”He could've changed his mind since then.”
Judd nodded. ”Still, unless you know something I don't, the Carnivore remains our best lead.”
”Yeah, but he's about as trustworthy as a hedge fund manager with an insider tip.”
They left the car in the rental agency's lot. Gray clouds floated overhead, hiding the moon. Scanning, they hurried across the tarmac.
”The plane's engines are running,” Judd noted. ”He's eager to leave.”
They broke into a jog.
The door opened, and Alex Bosa walked out to the top of the staircase. The craft's interior light glowed around him. ”Glad you made it,” he said as they climbed the staircase. ”I've been watching for you.” It was hard to see his expression in the darkness, but his voice was as strong and authoritarian as ever. ”Is Seymour in Baghdad?”
”He was a few years ago,” Judd said. ”How in h.e.l.l did you know about Baghdad?”
”Come inside. I'll tell you.”
BURLEIGH MORGAN.
[A]ssa.s.sination remains hardly a dying inst.i.tution worldwide. Political a.s.sa.s.sination exists and has existed ever since humankind formed a body politic.
-Encyclopedia of a.s.sa.s.sinations, Carl Sifakis
60.
Aloft over North Africa Bosa hustled Judd and Eva onto the trijet, drew up the staircase, and locked the door. The accelerating growl of the engines told Judd the craft was in final preparation for takeoff.
Bosa stuck his head into the c.o.c.kpit, where Jack was in the first officer's seat with George, his copilot, beside him. ”Baghdad,” Bosa ordered.
As the aircraft rolled across the tarmac, Eva, Judd, and Bosa rushed to their seats and strapped in. Bosa was on one side of the aisle in his usual place, his iPad beside him, his collection of cuneiform pieces on a tray on his other side. Across from him, Judd and Eva turned their seats so they could see him and each other.
Once they were in the air, Bosa said, ”Tell me what you learned.” His large face seemed weary. Still, he favored them with a smile.
Eva looked Bosa in the eye. ”Why did you kill Katia Levinchev, Alex?”
He frowned. ”It wasn't me. Tell me what happened.”
”Both Krot and Katia are dead,” Judd said. He related the events in Liza Kosciuch's garage. ”No one but you knew about our rental car and that we'd bugged the Citron that was carrying Krot's and Katia's luggage to them.”
”Ah, I see,” Bosa said. ”You think I followed you.”
”I can understand wiping Krot,” Eva said. ”But you should've been careful of Katia. She wasn't part of this. She was a bystander.”
”I'm sorry about her, but I didn't do the hit,” Bosa told them. ”You've got to remember Krot had a lot of enemies, just as I do. You can't be in our business without them, and some are extremely powerful. That's just one reason I maintain tight security. I haven't told you any lies, and I'm not going to start now.”
As the plane climbed the night sky, Judd glanced thoughtfully out the window. There was something wrong with what Bosa had just said, another piece of logic missing-or maybe the same one.