Dead in a Week (Forensic Instincts 7)

“I understand,” Jozef responded to Ellie’s translation, meeting Philip’s eye with an awareness that said he did. “Just so you know, Ðakovo isn’t large. You’ll get to the farmhouses you’re looking for in twenty minutes. Once you figure out your target location, Ivan will drive you to Osijek to collect your rental. You’ll be back in position soon after.”

Philip nodded, waiting while Jozef made his requests to Ivan and Helena.

“What is it they’re looking for?” Ivan asked.

“Neither you or I need to concern ourselves with that,” Jozef assured him.

Ivan’s dark brows rose. “And the reason you can’t do this yourself is because you might be recognized in this particular section of abandoned farmhouses.”

A quick nod. “You’re very shrewd, my friend. I’m asking you to be a host and a guide. What this couple is looking for and why they want it is their business, not ours. We’ll be well paid for our help.”

“You’ll want this arrangement to remain private,” Ivan said. “That will be a problem. Everyone here knows everyone else. Newcomers, especially ones who look like tourists, are instantly recognized as such.”

Clearly, Jozef had thought that one through in advance. “You’re right that no one can know why they’re here. So if anyone asks, the woman is your cousin from Germany, visiting with her British husband.”

Ivan glanced from Philip to Ellie and back again. “I suppose that would work.”

“Do whatever is necessary to make them fit in.”

“We will. And you’ll stay in contact?”

“Of course.”

Jozef turned to Ellie and Philip, intentionally dropping his voice so only they could hear as he did. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed, I’ve gotten the information I need to narrow down the search for you. Two farmhouses. Both Sallaku’s safe houses. Like all the farmhouses in the area, they have roughly the same layout.” He took a folded sheet of paper out of his pocket, then paused. “You have something for me?”

Ellie passed along Jozef ’s pointed demand—one that Philip had already figured out, given the expectant look on Jozef ’s face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out twenty one-hundred-dollar bills, subtly tucking them into Jozef ’s hand. Sifting through them long enough to determine the amount, Jozef ’s eyes glittered with approval and he handed over the folded page.

“I drew you a diagram to ease your way, including the points where you can get in and out. Doors are rarely locked. And the people inside get lazy and relaxed. Use that to your advantage. I hope you find the girl and kill everyone in Zarik Sallaku’s family.”

Philip took the diagram without responding to Jozef ’s words. He skimmed the layout, which was simple and straightforward—a one-story building containing a kitchen with an attached dining area, two or three bedrooms, and a single bathroom. A front door and a back door. No side entrances. Pretty much what he’d expected.

“Thank you for this,” he said.

“You can thank me when you’ve avenged my nephew’s death.”

* * *

Forty-five minutes after Jozef had driven away, Ivan’s sedan backed off the patch of concrete and into the street. Helena sat beside him, with Philip and Ellie in the back. To the average onlooker, they appeared to be two couples, out for a ride.

With the Flegos’ assistance, Philip and Ellie had changed clothes to modify their appearance. Gone were Philip’s silk shirt, designer sports coat, and Patek Philippe watch. Now, along with his tight-fitting dark-wash jeans, he wore a modest cotton button-down shirt and equally modest sports jacket beneath a plain wool overcoat and a matching scarf wrapped around his neck for warmth. He carried a long, black canvas duffel bag containing Jozef ’s hand-drawn maps of the farms in the area and his own surveillance gear. And Ellie wore a cotton blouse with her jeans, together with a similar wool coat and multicolored print scarf that was pulled down just enough to show off her Croatian silver filigreed earrings. They might not fool the locals, but at least they didn’t stick out like sore thumbs.

Ivan drove for a short while, then veered left off the main road. Immediately, the road transformed into a rutted dirt path, making the ride bumpy and rough. The suburban houses disappeared, replaced by acres of undeveloped land—endless stretches of green with patches of snow, punctuated by brown underbrush and leafless trees made naked by winter. Watching intently, Philip spotted more than one neglected farmhouse, set far back from the road. Their exteriors were rotted, their shutters were hanging, and their windows were cracked and falling apart.

He reached for his bag, ready to grab his binoculars and begin his surveillance the moment Ivan stopped. The Audi A4 sedan had enough windows to give him multiple angles from which to view the buildings and any visible occupants. His job right now was to find the precise farmhouse he was seeking and scope it out. After that, he’d return to do static recon at the site.

To his surprise, Ivan stopped at none of the passing farmhouses. He just continued along, ignoring the structures entirely, never slowing down or even glancing around.

Philip remained quiet. But he eased forward on his seat, keeping his hand on his duffle bag, studying everything they passed.

A minute later, Ivan made another left-hand turn, saying the last thing Philip wanted to hear Ellie translate but knew he couldn’t argue with.

“Before we go on, I want to show you something. I’m a proud Croatian, and I want you to see the best of Ðakovo before I show you the worst.”

As he spoke, a cluster of buildings appeared—not a tiny farmhouse like the one Jozef had drawn, and certainly not a replica of the ramshackle buildings they’d just passed—but a veritable compound that covered both sides of the road. On one side was the main house and a large barn, surrounded by multi-acres, with a dirt driveway on which several parked cars stood. Inside the barn’s open door, Philip could see a good-sized silver tank, clearly a storage tank of some sort.

On the other side of the road, a Claas tractor roared along, pulling agricultural machinery in its wake. Men in work pants, winter jackets, and baseball caps called out to one another as they made their way about—some of them weaving their way through pens where cows were grazing and others walking in and out of adjacent outbuildings, at least one of those buildings giving the appearance of an additional barn or stable. There were women working, too, and children—some young ones who stayed close to their mothers’ sides, others older and working right along with the adults. And three dogs—the size and shape of sheepdogs but with fur that was jet-black, curly, and silky-looking—who were literally herding people along.