Tracer, page 11
After three rings, a bored female voice said, ‘Motel Neuvo Cortez.’
Korso identified himself as Detective Jimenez from the Comandancia de Policia Villa Fontana, and said he wanted to speak with the manager immediately.
‘Un momento,’ she said. There was a sharp clang as she put the phone down.
Less than a minute later, a male voice said, ‘¿Cómo puedo ayudarlo, Detective?’
Korso said he could help by answering a few questions.
Natasha returned five minutes later, carrying a paper bag bearing the 7-Eleven logo. She got in the driver’s seat and set the bag on the central partition. Reaching in, she handed Korso a styrofoam cup, and pulled out one for herself.
‘Thanks,’ he said.
‘There’s also a chicken sandwich and a BLT in there. The BLT is mine.’ She removed the plastic cover from her cup, the coffee aroma immediately filling the car interior. ‘So now you can tell me what you found.’
Korso took a sip from his cup. ‘Well, I had a rewarding conversation with Senor Orantes, the manager of the Motel Neuvo Cortez, in Tijuana. And after consulting his records, he confirmed that Joel Adamson did stay at his establishment on the nights of 14th and 15th of February.’
‘Which we already knew.’
‘But once I pressed him, he also informed me that an American named Michael Papsidera also stayed there on those same two nights. He told me they had rooms on the same floor, and that they each checked out within minutes of each other.’
‘Michael Papsidera,’ she said. ‘Mickey.’
‘More than likely. Senor Orantes didn’t see him and Adamson together, but he did remember this Papsidera as a short, bullish man with a heavy brow. Not a conventionally handsome man, in other words.’
‘Or plain ugly, according to the dancer,’ Natasha said, nodding slowly. ‘So now we have a name. Or do we have more than that?’
‘We also have an address. Or at least the one they took from his driver’s licence: twenty-seven Cornell Avenue, Amarillo, Texas.’
‘Texas. Good.’ Natasha took her sandwich from the bag, opened the triangular packaging. ‘Very good. How far is that from here?’
‘About three hundred and forty miles northwest of our current location. I just checked. It’s about a five-hour journey by car. Faster by jet, obviously.’
‘Hmm. Flying would save two, maybe three, hours. But then we lose the firearms we just obtained.’
‘There is that,’ he said. ‘There’s no telling what we might come up against, though. And as much as we need to save time, I vote we drive.’
‘I was not aware this was a democracy,’ she said, inserting the keys in the ignition. ‘Fortunately enough, I agree with you. We drive.’
Seventeen
69 hours, 48 minutes and counting…
‘I could have killed you anytime in the last three hours,’ Korso said.
He was behind the wheel, and had been for those three hours, having switched with Natasha in Wichita Falls. They’d passed the Amarillo city limits sign on US-287 a few miles back, and traffic was beginning to thicken slightly as they entered the city proper. The sky was overcast, with dusk closing in.
Natasha had her elbow against the door, hand supporting her chin as she watched the scenery go by. If you could call it that. She turned her head slightly to look at him.
‘Is that so?’ she said.
He nodded. ‘One in the back of the skull while you were looking out that window, then a shallow grave behind any one of the derelict-looking farmhouses we passed along the way. No effort at all. And nobody would ever find you.’
‘I feel very lucky to be alive. What stopped you?’
‘For one thing, I’m not a psychopath. For another, I really don’t want a man like Nikolic hunting me down for the rest of my natural life. And finally, I told you before that this case had piqued my interest. I take it you now believe me.’
She yawned. ‘Please remind me why we’re having this conversation.’
‘I’m making a point that you don’t seem too bothered about my being armed now.’
‘Why should I be?’
‘“I won’t hesitate to kill you if I have to”. I believe those were your exact words to me, back in Bermuda. And a threat like that really hinges on only one of us carrying a weapon. Namely, you. Or is it that I’m sensing an element of trust entering into our relationship?’
‘Maybe that’s it.’ She started to rub her earlobe, then stopped herself. ‘After all, you could have simply walked away at the 7-Eleven, but you stayed. I learned long ago that trust is never to be taken for granted, that it must be earned over time. So it is with us.’
‘And is that how it is with you and Sardoca?’
She turned back to the window. ‘That’s a different kind of relationship altogether.’
‘Or between you and Nikolic?’
She gave a deep sigh. ‘There is no me and Nik… Mr Nikolic. I told you before he rarely deals directly with underlings such as myself.’
‘Oh, that’s right, you did. I forgot.’
Korso smiled to himself. He’d catch her out sooner or later. He already had one or two theories rattling around his head. Very interesting ones, too.
‘While we’re on the subject of Sardoca,’ he said, ‘aren’t you supposed to keep him updated at regular intervals, and assure him I’m toeing the line?’
‘If you must know, I called him in the 7-Eleven while I was waiting for the coffee. And also at various other times when you were out of earshot. Would you like to know what he said to me?’
‘My interest doesn’t run that far. I stopped caring what Sardoca thought or said a long time ago.’
She turned her face to him again. ‘You mean back when you worked together?’
‘We never did. I worked alone, even back then. However, I am interested in how he found and recruited you. It shows a level of insight I never imagined he possessed.’
‘I must be hearing things. That actually did sound like a compliment.’
‘Anything’s possible. So what branch of the military were you before? Army? Navy? Special forces?’
She tilted her head. ‘One or the other. There’s little difference between any of them. I was trained to kill at an early age. I found I was good at it. My country made use of my abilities to their best advantage, until I eventually became surplus to requirements and moved on. What more needs to be said?’
‘And which country is your country?’
‘You mean you don’t know? I thought you knew everything.’
‘Well, I know your accent is East European, but that covers a fairly wide area. If I had to guess, I’d say either Romanian or Bulgarian.’ He paused a moment. ‘Probably the former.’
She did that half-smile again. ‘And you’d be correct. What gave me away?’
‘Those large almond-shaped eyes, for a start. They’re a common trait amongst your people. But mostly, I’ve noticed you pronounce your Ds and Ts by touching your teeth with your tongue, instead of the roof of your mouth.’
‘I see. And is that a tell?’
‘To me, it is.’
‘Interesting. So languages are a hobby of yours?’
‘More like a general interest. It also gives me a slight edge in my line of work, where I often have to deal with a wide variety of nationalities. So back to my original question. Did Sardoca recruit you, or did you approach him?’
‘Maybe it was a little of both,’ she said in a bored tone. ‘What difference does it make?’
It might make all the difference, he thought. But he gave a shrug and said nothing.
They passed a large showroom-cum-warehouse selling building materials on their right. The building covered almost two blocks. More depots and businesses for machine parts passed by on the left. Also a few auto dealerships, mostly used vehicles. Very quickly, general stores and diners started appearing with more frequency. Traffic grew steadily heavier.
Natasha grabbed her phone from the dash and activated her GPS app. After a few moments spent enlarging and minimising the screen, she said, ‘We’re close now. Just over four kilometres to Papsidera’s place.’
‘Miles, not kilometres. America still uses the imperial system.’
‘Good for America. However, my GPS app is attuned to the metric system like the rest of the civilised world. Just keep on this road and turn left when I tell you.’
‘Yes, sir,’ he said.
They found the address they wanted less than ten minutes later. Located downtown, 27 Cornell Avenue wasn’t what either of them had expected.
It was a narrow, single-storey, stucco building with Westside Electronic Repairs in large block letters above a set of closed shutters. There was a steel mail slot just to the right of them. A large vacant lot that was doubling as a makeshift parking area was its neighbour on the left, while the building on the other side was home to Alamo Jack’s, a tattoo parlour. It was still open, from the looks of it. At least, the lights were on inside.
‘I’ll circle the block,’ Korso said.
After the body-art place, there was a vape store called CryoVape, also still open. A large supermarket took up the rest of the block. Korso turned left at the intersection and spotted an access road at the rear of that store, presumably for deliveries and such. He carried on at a slow crawl, passing two discount stores and a few vacant-looking office buildings before ending up where he started.
‘No other access from the front except through those shutters,’ Natasha said, checking Google Maps on her phone. ‘But the satellite view shows that the road we pass at the next turn leads to the rear entrances of all three businesses, not just the food market. And there are also further spaces for parking. Maybe Papsidera actually lives there.’
‘There’s probably an apartment at the back. Let’s ask.’ Korso pulled in outside Alamo Jack’s. He killed the engine and turned to Natasha. ‘That is to say, you ask.’
‘Why me?’
‘Basic psychology. People are generally more open with women than men. Especially attractive ones. Just try not to kill anyone while you’re in there.’
‘I’ll restrain myself… somehow,’ she said with a straight face, and got out of the car.
Korso watched her pull open the front door and enter the shop. Natasha might well be very attractive, but he’d been on this earth far too long to let looks affect his judgement. He was far more concerned with the current task facing them, as well as figuring out ways to deal with Sardoca’s inevitable double-cross once, or if, they were successful in recovering the shipment. Whatever Sardoca’s other shortcomings, he was no fool. He had to know that using Korso was a one-time-only deal.
Sardoca was like a kid who’d trapped a scorpion in a glass jar, laughing to himself as it tried to escape its fate. He knew if he ever set the scorpion free, it would come back and sting him. So, better to simply kill it once he’d had his fun.
Or even better, get someone else to do it.
Like his boss, Nikolic. A long, drawn-out, painful death for Korso would definitely appeal to the sadist in Sardoca. But if he didn’t want to go quite that far, Natasha could just as easily be assigned the task. Maybe she already had been. She certainly had the resolve to do whatever she felt was necessary. Korso had no idea what Sardoca’s instructions to her were, but he very much doubted they were beneficial to him.
So, plenty to think about, and plan against. But he was good at planning ahead. He always had been. That’s why he was still walking around, when so many of his contemporaries had fallen to dust by the wayside. Sardoca being one of the few exceptions. But maybe not for too much longer.
It was five minutes later when Natasha exited the shop. She walked round to the Chevy’s passenger side and got back in.
‘Anything useful?’ Korso asked.
‘Not much,’ she said, scratching her neck. ‘The owner – who’s called Jackie, by the way – was busy tattooing a man’s shoulder, so there were many pauses in the conversation. But she told me that next door has been shuttered for a week now, and that she has seen no sign of Papsidera in that time.’
‘Does she usually see him around?’
‘Once or twice a week, she said. They’re civil, without being friends. Apparently, the owner of the vape store is on much closer terms with him, and might know more. She also confirmed that the building has a small apartment at the back, which is where Papsidera lives.’
‘Or lived. Did she say anything else?’
‘Only that my love life would be much improved if I let her design a dream catcher tattoo for my back. I thanked her, but declined.’
‘Maybe it would.’
‘Would what?’
‘Improve your love life.’
She said nothing.
‘So not a tattoo person then.’
‘I have no opinion on them, one way or the other. You?’
‘I prefer anonymity. The last thing I need on my body is something people will remember.’
He was studying the small row of shops with narrowed eyes, absently tapping the wheel with his fingers.
‘Why are we waiting?’ she asked. ‘You have your lockpick tools. Let’s go.’
‘These are business premises,’ he said, ‘and business premises generally have security alarms. Papsidera’s sure to have one at the front entrance, and possibly another at the back. And the lock itself is likely to be more complex than a simple pin tumbler mechanism, thereby making my snapgun useless. I’m thinking another approach might be in order.’
She frowned. ‘What approach do you have in mind?’
‘The official kind.’
Eighteen
69 hours, 34 minutes and counting…
Korso opened the door to CryoVape and allowed Natasha to enter first. He followed her inside and stood there, looking around the small store with a bored, disdainful expression on his face.
The interior layout was fairly similar to that of a standard drugstore, but with added vibrancy. Three large glass display cases along the left contained a variety of multi-coloured pipes, e-cigarettes, e-cigars, carrying cases, starter kits and other paraphernalia. The shelves lining the walls on each side were crammed with e-liquids of every flavour and colour. The room smelled vaguely of incense, although Korso saw nothing burning. Facing the entrance was a long sales counter, behind which a young, long-haired Asian man sat, doing something on a laptop. There were no other customers.
The man looked up at them both, and smiled. ‘Help you, guys?’
Natasha walked over to him while Korso stayed near the door. They had planned it that way, as though he was covering the entrance. He’d also instructed Natasha to make sure her belt holster with the Sig was visible.
‘Homeland Security,’ she said in an officious tone. She pulled a wallet from her back pocket and flashed it at him briefly before putting it back again. All he’d seen was her international driving licence, but it looked official and that was what counted.
‘Hey, I’m clean.’ He raised both hands, still smiling. ‘Honest.’
Natasha just glared at him. He soon stopped smiling, and lowered his hands.
‘Your name is Isaac Varma, correct?’
‘That’s right. What’s the problem?’
‘Let us ask the questions. You know Michael Papsidera, the owner of the repair shop two doors down?’
‘Mickey? Sure, I know him a little.’
‘From what we’ve been told,’ Korso said, inspecting the glass display, ‘you know him more than just a little.’
‘What do you mean? Told by who?’
‘Funny how they never know what we mean,’ Korso said.
‘Isn’t it,’ Natasha said. ‘You see, Mr Varma, we’ve had Papsidera’s premises under surveillance for quite a while, yet he’s failed to show up for over a week and that worries us. We’d very much like to know his current whereabouts. Maybe you can help us with that.’
‘How would I know where he is? It ain’t like we’re best buddies or anything. All we do is look out for each other every now and then.’
‘You hear that, Sakowicz?’ Korso said, still not looking up. ‘They’re not pals after all. Looks like our intel is all wrong.’
‘And you have absolutely no idea where he’s gone,’ Natasha said. ‘Is that what you’re telling us?’
‘Not a clue. Look, why would I lie? I don’t understand any of this. What’s Mickey done, anyway?’
Korso gave a world-weary sigh. ‘You’re wasting your time, Sakowicz. He’s not going to play ball. Let’s just take him downtown with us. If we can’t get a line on Papsidera’s whereabouts, at least we can produce one of his known associates for Tanner to talk to. That’ll keep him off our back for a few days, at least.’
‘Hey, wait a minute,’ Varma said, clearly alarmed now. ‘I’m no associate of anyone’s. I’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t just take me in without a good reason.’
‘You’d be amazed at what Homeland Security can and can’t do, Mr Varma,’ Natasha said. ‘Especially when it involves suspected domestic terrorists. But to be honest, I could do without the additional paperwork that bringing you in would cause. You said you and Papsidera help each other out. Does that mean you have keys to each other’s premises?’
‘That’s right.’ Varma nodded his head eagerly. ‘Whenever I have to leave town on business, Mickey lets himself in and feeds my parrot, makes sure everything’s okay. I live out the back, see. And if he’s away for long periods, I do the same for him, making sure his security alarm’s still active, and that there’s no burst water pipes or anything like that. Except he never gave me any warning he was leaving this time.’
Natasha turned back to Korso. ‘What do you think? Maybe we’ll find something at his place. Some clue he left behind. And if a good citizen lets us in with a key, it’s not like we’ve broken any rules.’
‘Up to you.’ Korso gave an elaborate shrug. ‘You know what I’d do.’
Natasha turned back to Varma. ‘Where are these keys?’
