“I’ll stay here and get things ready in the basement for our guest,” Jamie says.
He looks so eager that I almost remind him to go easy but then think better of it. This Sizemore prick tried to kidnap Constance. Jamie is a true sadist. He’ll enjoy the work, and he’ll make sure our special guest is ready to tell me everything he knows about his mother. Getting Sizemore to roll on Irina is going to take some creative persuasion, and Jamie is just the man for the job.
“That sounds good,” I tell him instead. “Grab some plates, then, gentlemen, and let’s eat. I’ll make a plate for Constance and set it in the microwave. Leonard, do we still have any of that fruit?”
“Yeah, the strawberries and cantaloupe are in the fridge. Don’t mess with the watermelon, though. Trenton cut a hole in it last night and poured a bottle of Stoli into the damned thing.”
“Thought it might be a nice little party favor once we settle this score with Irina,” he responds with a shrug. “Didn’t mean to fuck up your melon,” he adds by way of apology.
I wave him off with a laugh. “I’m sure it’ll be delicious. Maybe we’ll even share a bite with this Sizemore kid later before we settle accounts with him. A man ought to have a last drink. Now, eat up gentlemen. We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”
We’ve all been on the road for about fifteen minutes when my phone rings. I check the caller ID and am not surprised to see Salvatore Bianchi’s name pop up. “Salvatore. I hope things are going better for you this morning. Have you heard something about your son?” I greet him while motioning for Trenton to turn down the radio. Constance leans over and tries to listen in on his reply.
“Maximo, good morning. I have heard nothing, nothing at all. Irina last contacted me just after my Gregory was taken. I’ve tried to call back to his phone to speak to her, to try to negotiate, but I get nothing but his voicemail. I’m calling you now because I see on the news that someone made a move in my territory last night, against this group of bikers calling themselves the Gargoyles. One of my men collects payment from them, allowing them to access my markets. I’m hopeful that this intrusion into my holdings was related to the search for my son.”
“It is, Salvatore,” I confirm. “I believe Irina is using this biker gang as her hired muscle. Specifically, I had one of their members picked up, a man named Jacob Sizemore. I found out that he’s Irina Volkov’s son, and Kirill Volkov’s younger brother from another father. I’m on my way to collect him now.”
“That is excellent, Maximo, very good. I would’ve preferred you came to me first before taking action in my territory, but…”
“You have to understand that I don’t know who I can trust, Salvatore. I couldn’t run the risk of telling you and having this Sizemore boy get tipped off ahead of time.”
“I understand,” Salvatore says with a sigh. “And I will forgive the intrusion. If these men were involved in the capture of my Gregory, I will burn out the rest of their organization myself. But tell me, during this raid to capture Sizemore, was there any sign of my son?”
“Not to my knowledge. But we now have some leverage against Irina. As soon as I find out how to contact her, I’ll try to arrange for an exchange, her son for yours. To that end, please give me Gregory’s number. If Irina is holding his phone, I may be able to reach her that way.”
Salvatore recites a phone number, which I repeat back to him as Constance types it into a note on her phone. She gives me a nod to confirm she has it, then I tell Salvatore, “I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything. Keep a good thought, Salvatore. We’ll get your boy home.”
“I pray it to be so. If you’re successful in helping me with this, Maximo, my family will owe yours a debt. Thank you again for your help.”
“Let me know right away if you hear anything else, all right?”
“I will, Maximo. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, Salvatore,” I reply before disconnecting the call.
“Well, what do you think?” Constance asks me. “Should we try to call Gregory’s phone and reach out to Irina right now?”
“Not yet,” I decide. “I need more than just her contact information,” I add as I pull up a number to send a text. “Remember Sergei Ivankov? The Bratva elder who first warned me about Irina?” When Constance nods, I tell her, “I’m going to reach out to him for a bit more information.
Sergei, this is Maximo again,I type.Irina’s son, Jacob, is now my guest. I need a way to contact her if she wishes to retrieve him. Also, I need a current picture of her. I trust that you’ll provide me these details so we might resolve this unpleasantness.
I show the message to Constance, who nods again before I hit send. “It’s bothered me that I wouldn’t know her if she walked up to me on the street,” she says. “I didn’t think about reaching out to the Bratva to get a photo of her. Do you think you can trust them to help?”
“Trust them? Absolutely not. I think that Sergei will do this, at least, since it costs him nothing and may help resolve what he has to perceive as a loose end. We’ll see.” I sigh as I pat her knee.
The rest of our ride is uneventful. Just before noon, Joey guides the black Ford Expedition we’re riding into the underground parking lot below the Savage Kings’ clubhouse. It’s an impressive old building; five stories set above a parking garage filled with classic and modern motorcycles, as well as a sprinkling of sports cars and more mundane vehicles. Joey carefully navigates the narrow lanes until he finds a parking space near the elevator. Tony pulls into a spot nearby a minute later. I nod to him and the man riding with him, a member of Jamie’s crew named Chris.
“See? You didn’t have any trouble finding the place, did you?” I ask Tony as we meet up at the elevator.
“Nah. Chris was a good navigator,” Tony replies as he jerks his thumb at the man behind him. “I don’t do so good with the maps, but he was able to describe the directions to me without me having to screw with the phone.”
“Jamie says me and Tony are going to pick up somebody and take them back to the estate for you. You got any, eh…special instructions for him?” Chris asks as the elevator dings open.
“Don’t kill him,” I answer with a shrug. “Otherwise, just make sure he’s ready to tell me everything he knows about Irina Volkov, and where she’s hiding.”
“Easy enough,” Chris agrees.
“This is a big building for a biker gang,” Constance says as all six of us cram into the elevator. It wouldn’t have been crowded, except for Tony’s bulk pushing the rest of us back towards the rear. “Which floor do we even go to?”
