I think about Nick's face when he reads my number in the morning. The small lift at the corner of his mouth. The way the word "good" sounds in his throat, low and warm and certain.
I think about a kitchen island and the application form.
I think about tomatoes.
Four seconds in. Six seconds out.
The drip falls. I start counting again.
Nick
The first call comes from Gregor before I've reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Viktor's townhouse is empty," he says. "Lights off. No car in the garage. His phone is going straight to voicemail. His housekeeper says she hasn't seen him since yesterday evening."
"The housekeeper. How sure are you she's telling the truth?"
"Pasha put the question to her twice. She's sixty-three, been cleaning for Viktor for eleven years. She's scared, Pakhan. She's not lying."
"Bettina?"
"Not at her apartment. Her neighbor says she left this morning with a suitcase."
A suitcase. Viktor sent his daughter away before he made his move. That tells me two things. He planned this in advance, and he knows what the consequences look like.
"Stay on the townhouse," I say. "Put a man on Bettina's building in case she comes back. Call me if anything changes."
I hang up and dial Yevgeny.
"Construction yards," I say. "Viktor has access to three of them through the shell companies. The one on Halsted, the one near the rail depot, and the lot on Archer. I need men at all three within twenty minutes."
"Already rolling on Halsted," Yevgeny says. "Sending two of mine to the depot now. Archer is further out. Forty minutes."
"Make it thirty."
"Pakhan." He pauses. The pause of a man choosing his next words with care. "Gregor told me about Alexei."
"And?"
"And nothing. Alexei made his choice. I'm making mine." The line is clean, his voice steady. No hesitation. No hedging. "Thirty minutes on Archer."
He hangs up.
Dmitri meets me in the front hall. He's been on the phone since he left the study and his jaw is tight in the way that tells me the news isn't good yet.
"Lev's on his way," he says. "Twelve minutes out."
"I don't want him in twelve minutes. I want him now."
"Kol." The name again. Dmitri holds my gaze with the particular steadiness he reserves for the moments when he needs me to hear him. "I know. But right now, Lev is the only person who was on that street this morning. We need what's in his head. We need him functional."
I understand what he's telling me. Don't break Lev the way you broke Alexei, because Lev has information that a dead man can’t give.
I press my hand flat against the wall and close my eyes for three seconds. Three seconds is all I allow. Behind my eyelids I see her face at the kitchen island this morning, damp hair pushed behind one ear, casually looking over nursing program brochures as she ate her toast.
I open my eyes.
"What about Viktor's lawyer?" I ask.
