Pride, page 13
I flipped on my phone and read the texts from David. Call Andy. Where are you?
I didn’t want to start arguing again. Time to find Viktor or Alan, or anyone who could help me protect Glenda and Nora by putting them away.
36
I don’t know what private investigators did in the days before free coffee shop wifi and power outlets. Sitting at home on my computer was my least favorite way to work a case. I hadn’t found a more interesting way to research, but doing it with a latte from someone who knew how to make it better than I could, and a bit of bustle from customers, was an improvement.
It also meant my car was close by if I found something to follow up on.
I needed a link between Alan and Ivan, or a connection to Viktor, whatever his real name is. This time I had Glenda’s phone and her unlock code.
I plugged in the charger and, while I waited for it to suck in enough juice to start up, did some research on the tricks and hidden apps that might be there.
One stood out. A tracker app that could be set to link two phones. Alan was just the type of guy who would stalk his wife that way.
It took a minute to find in all the downloads. Glenda didn’t organize her tools in any kind of order I recognized. A different version than the one I found online, and it wouldn’t work unless the phone was charged. But now, Alan might be looking at my location. I should take out the sim card and then give the device to Andy, or to David to pass on.
I’ve never been good at doing things simply because I should. I opened the app. If Alan came for me, I was safe here in public view. I would call for help if I even caught a glimpse of him.
It was a mutual tracking service. Glenda could have used it to locate Alan as much as he tracked her. Three phone numbers were listed. Glenda’s, Alan’s, and one I didn’t recognize. I made a note and checked his current location. Nothing current, but the history interested me. He frequented about four places at night. The same ones I found on the transactions, but apparently, he didn’t always pay a bill with his card. I looked them up to remind myself of what I’d seen before. One was the nightclub. One a residence, one I couldn’t seem to find on Google maps, and the other his home.
I had two places to check out tonight. The one Google couldn’t find was out at Lighthouse Park. That would need a team to search, and I didn’t have one. And I wouldn’t get away with giving the cops one place to look at while keeping the details of the others to myself.
I found more than I expected to find, and if Alan’s phone was off, he didn’t learn my location. Or maybe he tossed the thing. If he had, I wouldn’t be able to track him live, but history would do for now.
One thing he would need is money. I tagged his credit card and checked his bank account. No withdrawals in the last day. I was tempted to transfer the balance to Glenda’s account. She would need as much cash as possible to start her new life. I didn’t do it, because it was a big risk. If he found out, he’d know Glenda survived, and he’d be angry. His temper was enough of a threat for me to back out. She had protection, but if he didn’t learn where she was, no one would try to test it. I risked revealing Glenda’s account to Andy by moving funds, too.
I ordered another latte and sat back to think. How smart was Alan? I mean, getting involved with Russian gangs wasn’t a sign of intelligence, but as an investment adviser, he earned the credentials. No one handed those out for free. So, intelligent enough to pass exams, but I had no clue if he ever handled money for legitimate clients. His smarts concerned me more. Was it his idea to put the app on Glenda’s phone? I opened up a database and typed in the unknown number from the tracker. A Toronto area code. They didn’t have the capabilities of a smartphone, so how did the app work?
Nothing on Google, and I didn’t expect there to be, but going into the dark net is something I needed to do at home, not through an open network. I dropped it into my to-do list and asked myself again, how smart is Alan?
When he’s angry, not so much, but was the attack his idea? And did anger, craziness, or fear drive him?
I checked the history on the tracker again. Glenda told me where she thought he spent time, but that didn’t mean she knew the truth.
According to the record, he’d been in North Vancouver at a restaurant that I could look up. Maybe someone would remember him and his companion. Just dropping by was likely going to get me nowhere. I looked up the place online. Great reviews. The chef was well known. No hints of problems or links to organized crime. But Yelp didn’t have a category for drive-by shootings or drug deals. Those were in the police records, and I had an in with them.
I called David but got his voicemail. I didn’t leave a message because it’s hard to wheedle without conversation. I would try later. The information didn’t help me figure out how much Alan was being controlled, or if he was in a position to instigate anything. Although on second consideration, he must be a lackey because if he held any power, he would have sent someone else to batter his wife. Doing it himself guaranteed the cops would keep him away from her.
The phone was twenty percent charged so I pulled the plug and turned it off. As much as I didn’t want to bunker down at home, I needed to move on.
I reached to shut down my laptop and noticed the alert on Alan’s Visa card. He was spending money, and he was still in Vancouver. The charge was over on the east side. With luck, I’d make the drive in twenty minutes. I promised myself to call David again to report him if Alan was still there. If I was very lucky, he wasn’t settling up a bar bill before leaving the place.
37
I made it to the place in good time. Alan’s phone was still offline, which was all I could check in the moments at a red light. The credit card activity took more than a glance, so I decided not to risk a ticket for unsafe driving — or an accident.
The location was a restaurant that turned into more of a nightclub after nine p.m. This part of East Vancouver sat at the north end of The Drive. Still kind of funky and hipsterish, but also fading into old warehouses and commercial outlets.
The area was historically an Italian enclave. This place stood out with its Cyrillic alphabet. I took a picture and dropped it into the translate app. Yup, Russian, Sila, meaning strength. I guess we don’t use the same naming conventions as other cultures. Would I go to a restaurant called Strength? No. But what about Forza? It sounded better in Italian, so apparently some languages worked and some didn’t.
Now that I was here, I realized I had no way to slide in unrecognized. Alan knew me as an investigator, and the last time he saw me, he’d battered his wife and abandoned his child. I should have thought this through before barreling across the city. David was in a better position to do this. He could arrest Alan if I caught him in the place. But I didn’t want to wait for him to arrive, and I wasn’t going to call Andy.
Not an easy reconnaissance. Tinted windows so you couldn’t see in unless you pressed your face to the glass. Unfortunately, since the tint only went one way, everyone inside had a clear view of the street, so my actions wouldn’t fall under the definition of sneaking.
I left my car and strolled past the restaurant. If I found Alan’s car, I’d call David. If I couldn’t find it in the most obvious places, I’d risk going in.
Not in the parking lot in the alley, or any of the other business spots. Not high enough ranked to be afforded a reserved slot. Only a few other places to check; because of the warehouses, the residential streets mostly had permit parking restrictions. Not on the one where I parked, and not on the next one, or the third. I found plenty of spaces available in range, so I figured he’d gone.
I checked the records again, and no other transaction alerts.
I took a final look around as I got my mind ready to walk into what was very likely a mob restaurant. Then I noticed the five Harleys lined up at the sidewalk a block away. One of them I recognized: Guy.
I needed to get inside so he’d see me, and then leave so he would follow me and talk. I sent a small prayer out to the universe that Stick wasn’t with him and opened the door.
No Stick, but five bikes outside and only four Angels inside kept me on edge.
Guy flicked a glance my way.
I walked up to the man standing at the end of the bar. “Hi, I’m lost. Do you know where Fets is?”
He looked at me, and I watched him decide to help rather than ignore me.
“South of here. On the other side of the street,” he said.
I pulled out my phone and tapped Fets into the maps and showed it to him. “But it says it should be around here.”
He let out a breath with a groan. Like I was too stupid to live. “Look at the compass.” I turned it toward me, glared at it and laughed. “OMG, I’m sorry, I thought north was up. Got to go.”
He simply blinked at me.
I turned to catch Guy’s eye before heading back to the street.
* * *
He joined me about thirty seconds later and dragged me around the corner. “You are going to get killed.”
“For reading my GPS wrong?”
He didn’t laugh.
“You’re lucky Stick was in the can. Why are you here?”
I told him about Glenda and that I knew about Alan being in the restaurant. “I need to find him. Where did he go?”
“You mean you want to catch the head of the gang. Sure, you want Blackhouse punished, but you won’t stop with him, right? Charity, you have a cop on call. Use him.”
No point in pretending. “First, I need to get Alan off the street, so Glenda and the kid are safe. If I find some way to pull more gang members into custody, great. Just tell me what you know, and I’ll make sure you aren’t nearby when the shit hits.”
“I give up.” Guy cocked his head, listening for something. “Yeah, Blackhouse was here. He owed us for a shipment. That went through Sila’s books. He’s off to meet Viktor. I think he’s trying to keep moving so no one can catch up. He’s high, so be careful.”
A link to Viktor? “Who is this Viktor guy?”
“You’ll find out when you see him,” Guy said. “Are you tracking Blackhouse’s transactions?”
He was not good at actually giving up on me because he always followed the advice to stop with telling me what I wanted to know. “Yes.”
“This is all dangerous, Charity. I am not going to make it easy for you to get killed, because I would feel bad about it. And your boyfriend would find me.”
“He doesn’t know about you.”
He chuckled and then checked the street again. “Keep thinking that. Look. Where Blackhouse is going, he’ll spend money. He’s meeting Viktor and you’ll get a good look at him. Don’t go home because you’ll need to be mobile.”
If he told me who Viktor really was, I wouldn’t be in danger, but maybe he would. I had no idea if the information could be tracked back to him. “Okay. How long do you think I’ll be waiting?”
“He’ll probably arrive in the next ten minutes. If you can be on the road while you get the credit card info, head east.”
East was a big area and from here, I could be on the wrong side of the Fraser, and it was highway travel all the way, so no easy place to pull over to check once I started. And I would need to do that to check the credit card alert. “Okay. You sure he’ll stay long enough for me to drive there?”
“He’ll be waiting at least an hour for Viktor.”
I thanked him and went to cross the road to my car. Guy pulled me back into the alley. “Look first,” he said. “What if Stick came outside?”
He looked and then let my arm go. I rushed across the street and got in my car.
38
It was getting late and if I was going to drive east, I’d be stuck in rush hour traffic. Guy said Alan would stick around for an hour at least, but if I didn’t get his location soon, it could take longer for me to get there.
I’m not good with waiting at the best of times, and hanging around to receive the information I needed to barge into a dangerous situation stretched me to my limit. And if the notice came in the form of a transaction flag, Alan was paying, and people usually did that just before leaving.
I worried over what to do for long enough to see Guy and his pals leave Sila and rumble away. Then the lights went on outside the restaurant, bringing out the nightclub vibe.
I’d started plotting a route east that would provide a few places to stop and check messages before I crossed a river, when my phone pinged. Alan had turned his on. Thank God.
He was at another night club, in Coquitlam, a destination which wasn’t on the route I planned. Somehow, waiting gave me luck. I didn’t expect that fact to make anything easier in the future.
I headed for the Trans-Canada, praying there would be no accidents. The traffic would be heavy, but as long as the cars moved, I would make it. If I had to take an early exit, I’d be on a road with a lot of streetlights.
Luck was still with me, and I pulled up in a parking space across the way from the nightclub twenty minutes later. Not sure why a bar would open before ten p.m., but this one was. The occasional well-muscled man strolled in from the street. And a couple of them huddled in a corner smoking. This was going to be impossible if the place was full of men.
That made me think. I didn’t need to do this on my own. Well, I did want to be the one to catch Alan, but I could call for backup. I sent David a text to contact me.
Five minutes later he did. I’d had time to think about what I needed to say.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been stupid and stubborn.”
“So, you want me to call Andy for you? You should do it, Charity.”
“No, I was apologizing to you.” I’d bring Andy in when I had something for him, not before. “I’m following a lead, and it’s brought me to a nightclub. In Coquitlam. Called, Vecherinka.”
“Ivan Kuznetsov’s hangout. It’s under surveillance.”
He didn’t say the words ‘get out’ but I heard them anyway. “They are not doing a great job. Alan is inside.”
“Don’t go in until I call back,” he said. “Andy needs to hear about what’s happening, or you might be pulled out by his team.”
“Alan isn’t going to be there long,” I said. “I’m not losing him, and he’s meeting the adoption guy. I’m going in whether Andy likes it or not.”
He paused long enough that I wondered if I was on hold. I picked out background sounds, so maybe he was getting his patience together so he wouldn’t yell.
“David?”
“I’ll tell him that. Will you wait?”
“You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
He didn’t waste any of it saying goodbye. I spent my time watching the door to Vecherinka. I checked Google Translate: Party.
Two women entered alone. Both dressed for business, not partying. The club served as someone’s office, maybe Kuznetsov. A couple more men went in, five came out and the smokers finished up and headed in.
My phone rang. “What did he say?”
“He knew Alan was there. They aren’t prepared to blow the case to arrest him.”
“Do they have anything against Kuznetsov? I mean, something they are about to act on?”
“I don’t know. And I’m not going to ask. They won’t stop you, but he asked if you would record what’s going on.”
So, it’s not too dangerous for me to do that? “No. I’ll get caught. My plan is to go in and pretend to be surprised I find Alan there. I’ll stall him or follow him. Right now, he’s my only problem.”
“Will you wait for me? You need someone who can arrest the guy. Not a good idea in the club, but we can take him when he heads outside.”
“I need to do this myself,” I said. “I know I can’t arrest him, but if you come with me, they’ll peg you as a cop.”
He didn’t answer.
“Are you coming now?” I asked into the void.
“Yes. I promise I won’t get in the way of you doing your thing.”
I hated putting him in this position. He knew how much of a risk I took going into the club. He probably had more information about what went on in there than I did — no, make that he certainly did. But Alan met me as a PI, not as a cop’s girlfriend. He wouldn’t be threatened. And I could pretend I hadn’t seen what he’d done to Glenda.
“Okay,” I said. “I can’t wait for you to get here, but I’ll text you confirmation if Alan is still there. If I say something like tell Glenda he’s here, you’ll know Kuznetsov is inside too.”
I told him where I’d parked, and I loved him. The last part just popped out. I guess I was more worried about what happened than I thought.
“Love you, too. I’ll be with you in twenty,” he said. “I’m on lights and sirens most of the way.”
It was kind of sexy to have a boyfriend who could do that. And one who didn’t get all weird about what I said.
Twenty minutes. I would wait another ten before I went in, but I wasn’t sitting here until David arrived. It would help me if I only needed to bluff for a short time. I’m not sure how long I could keep the memory of Glenda’s body on the floor from pushing my temper over the top. And if Viktor did show up? Well, I’d figure out a way to have him arrested too.
39
Inside, it wasn’t what I expected. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I imagined something overly ornate; lots of gold, red velvet, and mirrors. It was done out in soft gray tones and deep blue accents. The atmosphere carried a little menace, but nothing overt.
Alan sat at a table about halfway down the dance floor, talking on his phone. He didn’t see me right away because he was turned to say something to a man who was heading to the back of the room.
A tall man, blond, built. From the back I had no idea how old.
The various groups I’d seen enter were scattered at tables, drinking and talking. No redhead of any kind. They paid no attention to me, but I’d bet my fee I was under surveillance.
I didn’t want to start arguing again. Time to find Viktor or Alan, or anyone who could help me protect Glenda and Nora by putting them away.
36
I don’t know what private investigators did in the days before free coffee shop wifi and power outlets. Sitting at home on my computer was my least favorite way to work a case. I hadn’t found a more interesting way to research, but doing it with a latte from someone who knew how to make it better than I could, and a bit of bustle from customers, was an improvement.
It also meant my car was close by if I found something to follow up on.
I needed a link between Alan and Ivan, or a connection to Viktor, whatever his real name is. This time I had Glenda’s phone and her unlock code.
I plugged in the charger and, while I waited for it to suck in enough juice to start up, did some research on the tricks and hidden apps that might be there.
One stood out. A tracker app that could be set to link two phones. Alan was just the type of guy who would stalk his wife that way.
It took a minute to find in all the downloads. Glenda didn’t organize her tools in any kind of order I recognized. A different version than the one I found online, and it wouldn’t work unless the phone was charged. But now, Alan might be looking at my location. I should take out the sim card and then give the device to Andy, or to David to pass on.
I’ve never been good at doing things simply because I should. I opened the app. If Alan came for me, I was safe here in public view. I would call for help if I even caught a glimpse of him.
It was a mutual tracking service. Glenda could have used it to locate Alan as much as he tracked her. Three phone numbers were listed. Glenda’s, Alan’s, and one I didn’t recognize. I made a note and checked his current location. Nothing current, but the history interested me. He frequented about four places at night. The same ones I found on the transactions, but apparently, he didn’t always pay a bill with his card. I looked them up to remind myself of what I’d seen before. One was the nightclub. One a residence, one I couldn’t seem to find on Google maps, and the other his home.
I had two places to check out tonight. The one Google couldn’t find was out at Lighthouse Park. That would need a team to search, and I didn’t have one. And I wouldn’t get away with giving the cops one place to look at while keeping the details of the others to myself.
I found more than I expected to find, and if Alan’s phone was off, he didn’t learn my location. Or maybe he tossed the thing. If he had, I wouldn’t be able to track him live, but history would do for now.
One thing he would need is money. I tagged his credit card and checked his bank account. No withdrawals in the last day. I was tempted to transfer the balance to Glenda’s account. She would need as much cash as possible to start her new life. I didn’t do it, because it was a big risk. If he found out, he’d know Glenda survived, and he’d be angry. His temper was enough of a threat for me to back out. She had protection, but if he didn’t learn where she was, no one would try to test it. I risked revealing Glenda’s account to Andy by moving funds, too.
I ordered another latte and sat back to think. How smart was Alan? I mean, getting involved with Russian gangs wasn’t a sign of intelligence, but as an investment adviser, he earned the credentials. No one handed those out for free. So, intelligent enough to pass exams, but I had no clue if he ever handled money for legitimate clients. His smarts concerned me more. Was it his idea to put the app on Glenda’s phone? I opened up a database and typed in the unknown number from the tracker. A Toronto area code. They didn’t have the capabilities of a smartphone, so how did the app work?
Nothing on Google, and I didn’t expect there to be, but going into the dark net is something I needed to do at home, not through an open network. I dropped it into my to-do list and asked myself again, how smart is Alan?
When he’s angry, not so much, but was the attack his idea? And did anger, craziness, or fear drive him?
I checked the history on the tracker again. Glenda told me where she thought he spent time, but that didn’t mean she knew the truth.
According to the record, he’d been in North Vancouver at a restaurant that I could look up. Maybe someone would remember him and his companion. Just dropping by was likely going to get me nowhere. I looked up the place online. Great reviews. The chef was well known. No hints of problems or links to organized crime. But Yelp didn’t have a category for drive-by shootings or drug deals. Those were in the police records, and I had an in with them.
I called David but got his voicemail. I didn’t leave a message because it’s hard to wheedle without conversation. I would try later. The information didn’t help me figure out how much Alan was being controlled, or if he was in a position to instigate anything. Although on second consideration, he must be a lackey because if he held any power, he would have sent someone else to batter his wife. Doing it himself guaranteed the cops would keep him away from her.
The phone was twenty percent charged so I pulled the plug and turned it off. As much as I didn’t want to bunker down at home, I needed to move on.
I reached to shut down my laptop and noticed the alert on Alan’s Visa card. He was spending money, and he was still in Vancouver. The charge was over on the east side. With luck, I’d make the drive in twenty minutes. I promised myself to call David again to report him if Alan was still there. If I was very lucky, he wasn’t settling up a bar bill before leaving the place.
37
I made it to the place in good time. Alan’s phone was still offline, which was all I could check in the moments at a red light. The credit card activity took more than a glance, so I decided not to risk a ticket for unsafe driving — or an accident.
The location was a restaurant that turned into more of a nightclub after nine p.m. This part of East Vancouver sat at the north end of The Drive. Still kind of funky and hipsterish, but also fading into old warehouses and commercial outlets.
The area was historically an Italian enclave. This place stood out with its Cyrillic alphabet. I took a picture and dropped it into the translate app. Yup, Russian, Sila, meaning strength. I guess we don’t use the same naming conventions as other cultures. Would I go to a restaurant called Strength? No. But what about Forza? It sounded better in Italian, so apparently some languages worked and some didn’t.
Now that I was here, I realized I had no way to slide in unrecognized. Alan knew me as an investigator, and the last time he saw me, he’d battered his wife and abandoned his child. I should have thought this through before barreling across the city. David was in a better position to do this. He could arrest Alan if I caught him in the place. But I didn’t want to wait for him to arrive, and I wasn’t going to call Andy.
Not an easy reconnaissance. Tinted windows so you couldn’t see in unless you pressed your face to the glass. Unfortunately, since the tint only went one way, everyone inside had a clear view of the street, so my actions wouldn’t fall under the definition of sneaking.
I left my car and strolled past the restaurant. If I found Alan’s car, I’d call David. If I couldn’t find it in the most obvious places, I’d risk going in.
Not in the parking lot in the alley, or any of the other business spots. Not high enough ranked to be afforded a reserved slot. Only a few other places to check; because of the warehouses, the residential streets mostly had permit parking restrictions. Not on the one where I parked, and not on the next one, or the third. I found plenty of spaces available in range, so I figured he’d gone.
I checked the records again, and no other transaction alerts.
I took a final look around as I got my mind ready to walk into what was very likely a mob restaurant. Then I noticed the five Harleys lined up at the sidewalk a block away. One of them I recognized: Guy.
I needed to get inside so he’d see me, and then leave so he would follow me and talk. I sent a small prayer out to the universe that Stick wasn’t with him and opened the door.
No Stick, but five bikes outside and only four Angels inside kept me on edge.
Guy flicked a glance my way.
I walked up to the man standing at the end of the bar. “Hi, I’m lost. Do you know where Fets is?”
He looked at me, and I watched him decide to help rather than ignore me.
“South of here. On the other side of the street,” he said.
I pulled out my phone and tapped Fets into the maps and showed it to him. “But it says it should be around here.”
He let out a breath with a groan. Like I was too stupid to live. “Look at the compass.” I turned it toward me, glared at it and laughed. “OMG, I’m sorry, I thought north was up. Got to go.”
He simply blinked at me.
I turned to catch Guy’s eye before heading back to the street.
* * *
He joined me about thirty seconds later and dragged me around the corner. “You are going to get killed.”
“For reading my GPS wrong?”
He didn’t laugh.
“You’re lucky Stick was in the can. Why are you here?”
I told him about Glenda and that I knew about Alan being in the restaurant. “I need to find him. Where did he go?”
“You mean you want to catch the head of the gang. Sure, you want Blackhouse punished, but you won’t stop with him, right? Charity, you have a cop on call. Use him.”
No point in pretending. “First, I need to get Alan off the street, so Glenda and the kid are safe. If I find some way to pull more gang members into custody, great. Just tell me what you know, and I’ll make sure you aren’t nearby when the shit hits.”
“I give up.” Guy cocked his head, listening for something. “Yeah, Blackhouse was here. He owed us for a shipment. That went through Sila’s books. He’s off to meet Viktor. I think he’s trying to keep moving so no one can catch up. He’s high, so be careful.”
A link to Viktor? “Who is this Viktor guy?”
“You’ll find out when you see him,” Guy said. “Are you tracking Blackhouse’s transactions?”
He was not good at actually giving up on me because he always followed the advice to stop with telling me what I wanted to know. “Yes.”
“This is all dangerous, Charity. I am not going to make it easy for you to get killed, because I would feel bad about it. And your boyfriend would find me.”
“He doesn’t know about you.”
He chuckled and then checked the street again. “Keep thinking that. Look. Where Blackhouse is going, he’ll spend money. He’s meeting Viktor and you’ll get a good look at him. Don’t go home because you’ll need to be mobile.”
If he told me who Viktor really was, I wouldn’t be in danger, but maybe he would. I had no idea if the information could be tracked back to him. “Okay. How long do you think I’ll be waiting?”
“He’ll probably arrive in the next ten minutes. If you can be on the road while you get the credit card info, head east.”
East was a big area and from here, I could be on the wrong side of the Fraser, and it was highway travel all the way, so no easy place to pull over to check once I started. And I would need to do that to check the credit card alert. “Okay. You sure he’ll stay long enough for me to drive there?”
“He’ll be waiting at least an hour for Viktor.”
I thanked him and went to cross the road to my car. Guy pulled me back into the alley. “Look first,” he said. “What if Stick came outside?”
He looked and then let my arm go. I rushed across the street and got in my car.
38
It was getting late and if I was going to drive east, I’d be stuck in rush hour traffic. Guy said Alan would stick around for an hour at least, but if I didn’t get his location soon, it could take longer for me to get there.
I’m not good with waiting at the best of times, and hanging around to receive the information I needed to barge into a dangerous situation stretched me to my limit. And if the notice came in the form of a transaction flag, Alan was paying, and people usually did that just before leaving.
I worried over what to do for long enough to see Guy and his pals leave Sila and rumble away. Then the lights went on outside the restaurant, bringing out the nightclub vibe.
I’d started plotting a route east that would provide a few places to stop and check messages before I crossed a river, when my phone pinged. Alan had turned his on. Thank God.
He was at another night club, in Coquitlam, a destination which wasn’t on the route I planned. Somehow, waiting gave me luck. I didn’t expect that fact to make anything easier in the future.
I headed for the Trans-Canada, praying there would be no accidents. The traffic would be heavy, but as long as the cars moved, I would make it. If I had to take an early exit, I’d be on a road with a lot of streetlights.
Luck was still with me, and I pulled up in a parking space across the way from the nightclub twenty minutes later. Not sure why a bar would open before ten p.m., but this one was. The occasional well-muscled man strolled in from the street. And a couple of them huddled in a corner smoking. This was going to be impossible if the place was full of men.
That made me think. I didn’t need to do this on my own. Well, I did want to be the one to catch Alan, but I could call for backup. I sent David a text to contact me.
Five minutes later he did. I’d had time to think about what I needed to say.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been stupid and stubborn.”
“So, you want me to call Andy for you? You should do it, Charity.”
“No, I was apologizing to you.” I’d bring Andy in when I had something for him, not before. “I’m following a lead, and it’s brought me to a nightclub. In Coquitlam. Called, Vecherinka.”
“Ivan Kuznetsov’s hangout. It’s under surveillance.”
He didn’t say the words ‘get out’ but I heard them anyway. “They are not doing a great job. Alan is inside.”
“Don’t go in until I call back,” he said. “Andy needs to hear about what’s happening, or you might be pulled out by his team.”
“Alan isn’t going to be there long,” I said. “I’m not losing him, and he’s meeting the adoption guy. I’m going in whether Andy likes it or not.”
He paused long enough that I wondered if I was on hold. I picked out background sounds, so maybe he was getting his patience together so he wouldn’t yell.
“David?”
“I’ll tell him that. Will you wait?”
“You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
He didn’t waste any of it saying goodbye. I spent my time watching the door to Vecherinka. I checked Google Translate: Party.
Two women entered alone. Both dressed for business, not partying. The club served as someone’s office, maybe Kuznetsov. A couple more men went in, five came out and the smokers finished up and headed in.
My phone rang. “What did he say?”
“He knew Alan was there. They aren’t prepared to blow the case to arrest him.”
“Do they have anything against Kuznetsov? I mean, something they are about to act on?”
“I don’t know. And I’m not going to ask. They won’t stop you, but he asked if you would record what’s going on.”
So, it’s not too dangerous for me to do that? “No. I’ll get caught. My plan is to go in and pretend to be surprised I find Alan there. I’ll stall him or follow him. Right now, he’s my only problem.”
“Will you wait for me? You need someone who can arrest the guy. Not a good idea in the club, but we can take him when he heads outside.”
“I need to do this myself,” I said. “I know I can’t arrest him, but if you come with me, they’ll peg you as a cop.”
He didn’t answer.
“Are you coming now?” I asked into the void.
“Yes. I promise I won’t get in the way of you doing your thing.”
I hated putting him in this position. He knew how much of a risk I took going into the club. He probably had more information about what went on in there than I did — no, make that he certainly did. But Alan met me as a PI, not as a cop’s girlfriend. He wouldn’t be threatened. And I could pretend I hadn’t seen what he’d done to Glenda.
“Okay,” I said. “I can’t wait for you to get here, but I’ll text you confirmation if Alan is still there. If I say something like tell Glenda he’s here, you’ll know Kuznetsov is inside too.”
I told him where I’d parked, and I loved him. The last part just popped out. I guess I was more worried about what happened than I thought.
“Love you, too. I’ll be with you in twenty,” he said. “I’m on lights and sirens most of the way.”
It was kind of sexy to have a boyfriend who could do that. And one who didn’t get all weird about what I said.
Twenty minutes. I would wait another ten before I went in, but I wasn’t sitting here until David arrived. It would help me if I only needed to bluff for a short time. I’m not sure how long I could keep the memory of Glenda’s body on the floor from pushing my temper over the top. And if Viktor did show up? Well, I’d figure out a way to have him arrested too.
39
Inside, it wasn’t what I expected. I’m a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I imagined something overly ornate; lots of gold, red velvet, and mirrors. It was done out in soft gray tones and deep blue accents. The atmosphere carried a little menace, but nothing overt.
Alan sat at a table about halfway down the dance floor, talking on his phone. He didn’t see me right away because he was turned to say something to a man who was heading to the back of the room.
A tall man, blond, built. From the back I had no idea how old.
The various groups I’d seen enter were scattered at tables, drinking and talking. No redhead of any kind. They paid no attention to me, but I’d bet my fee I was under surveillance.
