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Authors: Estelle Ryan

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BOOK: 2 The Dante Connection
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“Do you think it will come back to you?” Manny asked. “Maybe if you do one of those weird in-your-head things where you rock and moan?”

“I moan?”

“What Manny is asking with such a horrid lack of finesse is if you could possibly get that memory back.” Colin glared at Manny.

As a matter of fact, the only person not glaring at Manny was Francine. She was looking at me, waiting for my answer.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe. I don’t want to lose time on it though. There are more than enough other loose ends I want to look into. I would rather try to figure out what these guys’ next step will be.”

“But you will try to remember.” It could have been a request, but Manny made it sound like an order.

I did not appreciate his tone and ignored him. “Francine, how much have you managed to find out about Kubanov?”

Manny turned his irritation on Francine. “You’re investigating Kubanov? Why? How?”

“I asked her to find out whatever she could about Kubanov,” I said. “Yesterday before you came here we were talking about Kubanov’s role in this. Since there is indication that this is revenge for something that happened to someone’s child, I thought it might be a good idea to find out if Kubanov has any children.”

Manny made a disapproving noise and looked at Francine, his top lip curled. “So? Did you find anything with your law-breaking ways?”

“Oh, I found out a lot of things.” The searing tone in Francine’s voice warned me. Manny must have also realised something was amiss. He leaned a fraction away from her as she continued. “I found out that you divorced your third wife seven years ago. She’s now happily married to a man you worked with for fifteen years. That one must have really stung.”

Manny was red in his face, his lips tight, his nostrils flared.

“Wait, wait.” Francine rested a manicured fingernail on Manny’s collar. “Before you huff and puff and blow my little house down, let me finish. I also know every bank account you have, how much money is in each, that you have a Malaga gelato fetish and that you ordered a new Fossil watch on Amazon a week ago. The doorman of your apartment building signed for it, by the way. It will be waiting for you when you get home.”

Her expression changed to sensual, but I saw the anger hidden behind it. She played with his collar, her voice sing-song. “The coup of all coups was to know how old you are. Forty-eight to be exact. Really, Manny. A man in the prime of his life should take better care of himself. You’re still young and possibly virile.”

It was quiet in my apartment. At first Manny had bristled with instant anger, but
quickly suppressed it. He was paying close attention to Francine in a way I would if I believed someone was about to unknowingly reveal something of utmost importance.

“Little girl, you don’t want to enter a pissing contest with me,” he said in a quiet voice. His smile was lazy, but his eyes revealed the depth of his anger. “You might be able to freeze my bank accounts, but I can easily have you up for treason. You do good work, but a few of the governments you charm into believing they have your exclusive loyalty won’t appreciate knowing that they’ve been sharing you.”

Francine lost some of her colour.

“Yes.” Manny nodded at her as if she had asked a question. “I know about you, more than you would like me to. And no, I have not told anyone.”

“How do you know this?” Francine looked worried and interested.

A series of micro-expressions on Manny’s face had me sitting up. Manny was even more astute than I had credited him. “He didn’t know. He’s been watching you and must have come to some conclusion. That last statement was a test and you confirmed his suspicions.”

Francine blinked at me before leaning closer to Manny. Her tone was still hot, her eyes cold. “People so easily underestimate me. Underestimate the power I have the moment I sit behind a computer. Don’t ever speak to me as if I am lower than you, Manfred Christopher Millard. I can handle, and I actually enjoy, your sarcasm and sharp tones. But treating all of us as if you are on much higher moral ground than us? I will no longer stand for that. Despite your attempts at running background checks on all of us, there is much you don’t know.”

I marvelled at the nonverbal communication happening around the table. None of them had any understanding of exactly how much information they were giving each other with their micro-expressions and their postures.

From where I was sitting, the nonverbal communication was unmistakable. Francine had made it clear that Manny had overstepped a line. He, on the other hand, was giving that warning and the other veiled threats from Francine serious consideration.

He nodded his head slowly as if he had come to some realisation. “I apologise.”

“Now those are magical words to a girl.” This time Francine’s smile was wide and genuine. “I can spill all kinds of secrets when a man as old-school and macho as you utter those two words.”

“How about telling him only about Kubanov?” Colin’s tone carried a subtle warning.

“Ah, of course.” She sat back in her chair, relaxed. “I know some people who know some people. None of them and none of my other sources could dig up any kids that Kubanov might have had. Not one child was ever registered with him as the father and there were never any rumours about a love child somewhere either. There is always a margin of error, but I’m convinced that he doesn’t have any children.

“His mother on the other hand had a few kids. Kubanov is the oldest of five. Three sisters and one brother. Between him and the second child is a nine-year age difference. Quite significant if you take into account that he comes from a poor family in a small village in rural Russia. Kids were often born one right after the other.”

“None of our investigation ever found out who his biological father is,” Manny said. “Do you know?”

“Only rumours,” Francine answered. “Apparently one of the top officials in that area used sex as payment to speed up connecting electricity to a house or heating or water. Basic amenities. Fifty years ago corruption in Russia was even worse than it is today. One man, Roman Lebedev, was one of the worst corrupt officials. He extracted payment from Kubanov’s mother for giving written permission to have electricity connected to her family home. The payment resulted in the birth of Kubanov.

“His mother was staying with her parents and two sisters. They were shamed by her pregnancy and child and tried to marry her off. Unfortunately for them it took seven years to find a volunteer. She married a much older farmer who needed a housekeeper and extra hands on the farm. Life was hard for them and the first two girls died before either of them reached their first birthday. The third daughter survived, but died ten years ago in a bus accident. The youngest was another boy.”

“Kubanov has a younger brother? We never found out about this.” Manny sat up. “Who is he? Where is he?”

“I’m working on that at the moment. While the mother was pregnant with the youngest, the farmer died a violent death. He was attacked and brutally murdered. There were rumours that Kubanov had killed his stepfather for all the abuse, but it was never investigated or verified. Shortly after the farmer’s death, Kubanov joined the military and started his illustrious career. There is a nineteen-year age difference between him and the youngest brother.”

“How do you know this?” Manny asked. His tone held no censure this time, only curiosity.

“People who know people. These are people I’ve met online in all sorts of situations. And no, not all of them are criminals. A lot of them are gamers, some of them IT specialists and of course some of them hackers. There are also networks of people all over the internet that you can ask all sorts of questions. If you’re in the right network, you can get good answers.”

“Ask your questions so that we can find out about this brother,” Manny said. “After the Piros forgery case, I investigated Kubanov and found out a lot about Kubanov, but never this.”

“Maybe because his mother never registered the brother as her child. This just shows how one can game a system.” Francine rolled her eyes. “Most likely through bribery or more sex, the mother managed to register Kubanov’s brother as the son of her five-year-old daughter.”

“What? How the hell is that even possible?” Vinnie asked.

“Corruption. I don’t know the reasoning behind this, but Kubanov’s younger brother is legally registered as his sister’s son, his nephew.”

“Twisted,” Colin said. “On all kinds of levels.”

“Is his mother still alive?” I asked.

“Nope. She died fifteen years ago. Suicide.”

Silence settled around the table. I thought of the man who had started as the unwanted product of a bribe. The man who now was one of the most influential people in Russia. He was widely respected for his philanthropic works. He was also widely suspected of many criminal activities, none of which had ever been proven. Was it his origins that had shaped his life into the ruthlessness it was now? Like people with similar backgrounds, it was most likely a combination of his impoverished, abusive childhood, his fight to survive through that and his military training that had formed his psyche.

We could never discount the addictive nature of power. People like Kubanov who had been victimised often turned into bullies whenever they had their first taste of power. I would dare to posit that his first taste came in the military, maybe when he received his first rank. That was when the hunger for more power, even absolute power, would have driven him to reach the upper echelons as soon as possible. At any cost.

And with power, all kinds of complications usually followed. That he had become a brutal criminal mastermind did not surprise me at all. That he now focussed his unhealthy mind on me most definitely did come as a surprise. Finding anomalies in data, analysing potential fraudsters’ body language had never seemed life-threatening to me. I had been naive.

The distant jingling of my smartphone’s ringtone pulled me out of my thoughts. I gave an irritated sigh and pulled my phone out of my handbag hanging on the back of my chair. The number registered on the screen was unfamiliar. I swiped to answer. “Hello?”

“Good evening, Doctor Lenard.” It was a man’s voice. Deep, cultured with a hint of an Eastern European accent. I had only ever heard that voice in person once. Six months ago. Bits of disjointed information rushed to connect. I knew who the impostor was. My free hand gripped the table as adrenaline pumped through my system. He sounded so close. “Tomasz Kubanov here. How are you on this fine afternoon?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter TWENTY

 

 

 

Cold darkness threatened to take over my consciousness. The very man we had been talking about, the man I strongly suspected was a psychopath was on the other side of this phone call. I looked desperately at Colin, for what I didn’t know. He responded immediately by uncurling my fingers from the table and holding my hand between both of his.

“Genevieve, are you there?” Kubanov pronounced my name in the way I hated. The French pronunciation of my name usually sounded wrong and annoyed me. Coming from this man, it sounded sick, perverted. It nauseated me.

“What do you want?” My voice was much stronger and more stable than my current emotional state. Colin tightened his hands around mine. I looked at him and mouthed ‘Kubanov’, in answer to the question written all over his face. His eyes flashed open in shock. He turned to Francine and started whispering to her. I didn’t pay attention to them. Kubanov had started speaking again and I needed to pay attention. I closed my eyes and isolated my concentration to mentally record every word and nuance.

“Have you missed me, Genevieve? I can’t say that I’ve missed you. It’s not possible to miss you when you’ve been with me every single day since last summer. I even dream about you.”

“Why this obsession with me? Why target me?”

“Oh Genevieve, how could you not know?” His voice was playful. “A girl as bright as you must surely have some theories.”

He had just confirmed our speculation that he was behind this. I didn’t want to converse with him. I pulled the phone away from my ear to disconnect, but Colin stopped me. When I frowned at his frantic hand signals, he pulled my note pad closer and started writing. If it weren’t for the disconcerting phone call I was trying to deal with, I would have been incensed with the defacing of my note pad. I gave Colin a quick disapproving look, and read his slanted handwriting asking me to keep Kubanov on the line so that Francine could trace him.

I wriggled in my chair, closed my eyes again and put the phone back against my ear. “Is this your unsubtle way of asking my hypotheses on why you are targeting me?”

He laughed. “Yes, please.”

Just because I was not ready for this conversation did not mean that I lacked the theoretical know-how on handling such situations. It didn’t come naturally to me like it did to Phillip, but years of training and observation served to empower me. I loosened my shoulders and relaxed against the back of the chair. Against my nature, I was about to start a game.

“There are numerous reasons, most of which I have discounted,” I said.

“Oh, please tell me those reasons. It would be fun to hear them.” If I had been watching him on my monitors I was sure he would have been rubbing his hands together.

“I’m definitely not a random target. This is also not borne of passion, it is too well planned.”

“Thank you.” He sounded sincere. “I’m glad you can appreciate the genius behind it all.”

I physically bit down on my tongue to not refute his definition of genius. Instead I concentrated on the reasons why criminals resorted to violence. “You are not doing this for gain, out of jealousy or out of some ideological conviction. I have nothing you want, you don’t feel a sense of ownership nor do you have any ideological convictions that I might have offended.”

“Brilliant! Although I have to disagree with you on one point. You do have something I want. Your expertise.”

“Which you will never have access to. You know this, covet it, but accepted the perceived loss.”

“You delight me, Genevieve.” His approval made my stomach turn. I did, however, know that I was on the right path with this conversation. I had his attention and if I could draw him into a conversation, he might reveal some essential information.

“I’m also not your competition, so you don’t need to eliminate me. That leaves us with only a few other options.”

“What are those?” He was genuinely curious.

“I will tell you if you will tell me how you got this number. There are only a handful of people I have ever given this number to. Only someone exceptionally good could’ve found my number.”

When the line continued to stay silent for five long seconds, I thought that I might have miscalculated my move. “You are indeed a difficult person to access. In today’s online world, your presence is so minimal that I had to call in help. Only your little Brazilian-mix friend is better than my guy. Or not. But that’s besides the point. He was able to track your number down. As I’m sitting here, I’m looking at a little blip on my computer. You are in your flat at the moment.”

Colin’s hand tightened over mine when I stiffened. I breathed deeply and forced myself to relax. “You are right. I’m sitting at my dining room table.”

“Is your whole little band of misfits with you? Those puppies that follow you everywhere?” He chuckled. “Give Mister Millard my regards. He was most entertaining a few months ago with his little investigation into my life.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?”

“You are much more interesting to talk to, Genevieve. Those puppies are far beneath the likes of us. They’re boring.” He swallowed the last words as if he regretted saying what he had. “Finish telling me about your hypotheses.”

“There is another possible reason for what you are doing. The lust of killing, of watching others suffer. I think that applies to you.”

“Did little Colin tell on me? Bad, bad boy.”

I tried to ignore my fear. There was one more reason that motivated people like Kubanov, but I didn’t want to reveal too much to him. I was playing a game and I had a strategy. “I think that you are like a big cat, enjoying the hunt, enjoying playing with your prey. For some obscure reason you have set your sights on me. You are enjoying playing games with me. It might even serve as an aphrodisiac for you. You are having fun. I think you are bored with your everyday life and decided to play a real-life type of chess.”

In his laughter I heard not only amusement, but also triumph. I almost raised both my fists in victory. A rare moment indeed for me to have convinced a man such as Kubanov that I knew less than I truly did.

“Ah, Genevieve, you are a worthy opponent. Worthy. You are like cream to my already superior cup of coffee. I hope you enjoy my gift.”

“Your gift?” No sooner had I asked the question than my doorbell rang. I heard chairs scrape on the floor and fast footsteps, mostly likely Manny and Vinnie rushing to the front door. I didn’t open my eyes to look. “I am sure I will appreciate the symbolism in your gift.”

“It was a pleasure speaking to you, my lovely.” And without another word, he disconnected the call.

The loud voices from the front door couldn’t even get me to open my eyes. I needed a moment to process what had just happened, a moment for my mind to analyse.

“Jenny?” Colin squeezed my hand lightly.

I opened my eyes and was pleased that I had not gotten lost in my head. Manny and Vinnie were still at the front door, their bodies blocking me from seeing who they were arguing with.

“Are you okay?” Francine asked. She was sitting across from us, her hands frozen above the laptop’s keyboard.

“I’m fine. You look pale. What is wrong?”

“I traced his call. He is here in Strasbourg.”

“He knew I was in my apartment.”

“Your GPS is either on, or they activated it.”

“Did you do that with his phone? Do you know where he is?”

“He must have been using a supremely old mobile phone. One without GPS. I could only locate the nearest tower his phone connected to. I couldn’t get his coordinates.”

“Where is that bastard?” Manny stormed towards us, looking at Francine. “Do you have his address? The response team is here, ready to go get him.”

“Sorry, Manny. I don’t have his coordinates.” Francine did not look well. I wondered if it was some residual pain from her attack.

The realisation dawned on me with a great force. “You know the hacker who helped Kubanov.”

“What?” Manny’s voice was too loud. He looked down at his shoes and breathed a few times loudly through flared nostrils. We were quiet. He looked up, zoomed in on Francine and lifted a bandaged hand. “Let me speak to the response team. I’ll be back in three minutes, then you can tell me all about this hacker. Bloody hell.”

We watched him walk to the door, passing Vinnie on the way.

“Those guys have far too much ammo on them.” He sat down next to Francine. “Manny told them that there is no danger here, but they still came storming in with their guns, extra ammo stuffed in pockets all over their uniforms. I like these guys. Why are y’all so quiet? Francine, why are you so pale? Are you okay, honey?”

Vinnie’s voice softened from the excited tone as he looked at Francine. The hushed conversation had ended at my front door and Manny closed it. He saw me frowning and turned back to lock the five locks. He joined us at the table, sitting down on the other side of Francine.

“Okay, now tell me what the fuck that was all about.”

“Manny, you have to be more specific with your question,” I said. “Are you asking me? Are you asking Francine? What do–”

“Why don’t you start, missy? Tell me why Tomasz fucking Kubanov phoned you.”

“To gloat,” I said. “He is playing a game and he thinks that he has out-planned, out-manoeuvred us. He wants me to know that he is responsible for what has been happening. And he wants to know for himself what I know and don’t know.”

“Why the hell does he have such a hard-on for you?”

I flinched. “I am convinced that his motives are not sexual in nature at all.”

“Millard is obviously not thinking of his language, Jenny. What he means is why is Kubanov focussing on you.”

Only when Colin spoke did I realise that my hand was still in his. I pulled it back and rested both hands on my lap. “You heard what I told him. I believe that this game he is playing is very stimulating for him.”

“Eeuw.” A shudder went through Francine’s body. “That is sick.”

“Kubanov is a highly sophisticated criminal. His kind of intelligence is often found with psychopaths. His behaviour does bear resemblance of that too. On top of that, he sees himself as vastly superior to everyone else.” I smiled, proud of my deception skills. “He didn’t expect me to turn the game on him.”

There was silence around the table. Manny dropped his chin and stared wide-eyed at me.

Colin’s eyes relaxed with a smile. “Did you lie to him, Jenny?”

“No,” I said. “I just didn’t tell him the whole truth.”

“A lie by omission is still a lie, Doc.” Manny straightened. There was respect in his eyes. “Good on you, Doc. Good on you. Now tell us how you gamed him.”

“Firstly, I didn’t tell him that I knew he was at both bomb scenes.”

“He was?” Manny was raising his voice again.

“Yes, he was the man in both videos that I thought I had recognised. I’m just angry with myself for not putting it all together earlier.”

Colin waved my anger away. “At least we know that he is here and that he is playing an active role in this whole game. Is there a secondly?”

I nodded. “I told him all the reasons I thought he might be pursuing me. He thinks that I think it is because he enjoys playing games. That he wants to win and that I am the perfect competitor. A worthy opponent, he had said. I believe that is true. But that is only a bonus for him. I didn’t tell him the true reason I believe he is doing this.”

“So why is he doing this?” Vinnie asked.

“I believe that it is what we had talked about earlier. Revenge. People want to exact revenge mostly for three reasons. The last reason is betrayal. I’m mentioning this first, because I don’t believe it to be relevant here. The second reason is identity. If someone’s identity is threatened or harmed, they want to get back at the person who presented that threat or caused that harm.”

“And you harmed Kubanov’s identity, his reputation, of being an invisible, invincible crime lord. You brought his illegal activities out in the open last summer.” Colin’s voice was tight. He was remembering.

The cognitive dissonance I experienced was very uncomfortable. I was pleased that I had exposed Kubanov’s murderous art forgery syndicate. But I hated that my actions might have played a role in the trauma Colin had suffered at Kubanov’s hands.

“You made him look bad and now he wants revenge for that,” Colin continued. “What is the first reason for revenge?”

“Equity,” I said. “This is where those Bible verses are appropriate. An eye for an eye. I had taken away from Kubanov’s reputation, he wants to take away from mine. I had taken away from his business, he wants to take away from mine.”

“How would he do that?” Vinnie asked.

“A man like him would have studied me, knowing that I don’t care about my reputation or material things.” Fear constricted my throat muscles, turning my voice softer and much more tense. “He knows about the people in my life. He mentioned Francine, Manny and Colin. I’m sure he knows that Vinnie is also here. That would be his way of getting to me. That and attempting to reach his end goal before I can figure it out. That would make me look foolish and would give him immense pleasure.

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