"I doubt Arturo will be back so soon. You'll have to take Tomasso."
Her mouth dropped open. "You hardly know that man. Seriously, Tio, you have no idea if he's loyal or not. What are you thinking?" But she knew exactly what he was thinking. He didn't trust any of his men to keep their mouth shut with such an important mission. It was blackmail material. They would guess what she was up to. Luigi couldn't have that, not if he planned to take over the Porcelli family. There could be no witnesses. No one left alive who might know what Luigi had done.
All along he planned to kill Tomasso. That was why he'd been the bodyguard selected to watch over her while Luigi was feigning his illness. Luigi planned to dispose of him as well. She curled her fingers into a tighter fist. She should have seen that coming the moment Luigi assigned a new man as her personal bodyguard. He didn't want her to question his choice when he sent the man along with her on her recon of Aldo's mistress.
"He has already proven his loyalty. I think he's a good man and he'll watch your back while you put together your plan. So it is decided. You will get to work this week planning and then you will kill Aldo Porcelli and at last allow my brother to rest in peace." He sat back in his leather chair, looking very pleased. "Now tell me every detail of Cosmos's death. I want to know his every reaction, his expression, especially when he realized who you were."
Casimir drove quickly through the streets toward the building Luigi disappeared into each night. Arturo stayed there, he was certain of it. He didn't appear to leave, but stayed inside unless he walked Luigi out. The two men seemed very pleased with themselves, talking animatedly before Luigi got in his car to drive off. They laughed and slapped each other on the back or shoulder. Whatever they were up to made them both very jovial.
There were cameras set up around the building, but no one ever cleaned them off and spiderwebs covered the lenses. Casimir had to strike tonight, right now, while Luigi was Lissa's alibi. Arturo dying unexpectedly would set off alarm bells in Luigi unless they played this exactly right. He glanced at his watch. He would have only a short time to get this done before rushing to the hotel to make an appearance so when Luigi checked - and he would because he had a suspicious nature - the head of security would give him an alibi. He would make Arturo's death quick, something he didn't deserve, but there was no real time for anything else.
He used the shadows of the building to stay out of sight of the cameras as much as possible. With the amount of dirt and webs on them, even if they picked him up, they wouldn't see much. Still, he was going to make certain he removed the memory cards.
The door was locked, not coded. A big mistake, but one he wasn't surprised about. Luigi was old school. He didn't embrace technology. Even at his house, there were no real codes on anything. Luigi didn't want to memorize them.
Casimir made short work of the lock and then tested the door handle. He listened, but there was no sound at all. He'd noticed that before. Not a single sound escaped from inside. He could only surmise that the building was soundproof, which meant Luigi probably brought men he wanted interrogated to the site. He'd been fairly certain all along that Arturo wasn't alone in that building.
He opened the door cautiously, inch by inch, listening for an alarm, a noise, anything that would tell him someone waited on the other side. In all the surveillance he'd done on the building, he hadn't seen anyone else come or go other than Luigi. That meant whoever was inside with Arturo was a prisoner. That man would present a problem if he saw Casimir. He wore his older gentleman persona, but still, he didn't want a witness. Arturo's death needed to look natural.
He found himself in an entryway, a large rectangular room with low-slung couches and a couple of overstuffed chairs. An empty fish tank took up an entire corner and there were several paintings on the wall, nude couples in various sexual positions, all depicting various types of bondage.
His heart sank. He knew what this was. Luigi was reputed to run a very brisk prostitution business, providing a particular service to men or women with "unique" preferences. The women commanded high prices for their services because they catered to a very sick lot. Luigi made certain that the circle of very sick patrons returned often and that the circle kept expanding. The women had to be trained somewhere. He'd just discovered Luigi's school.
The idea nauseated him. He'd been trained in the art of sex, every deviant and perverted act possible. Every type of seduction. The lessons had been brutal, and more than once a female partner had been killed for not performing up to the instructor's standards. He knew the type of sadistic person it took to train a man or woman in the kinds of sexual technique Luigi wanted from his girls.
He checked for cameras, but there were none in the waiting room. The main working area had to be behind the closed door. He shut down all emotion. That kept him sane, it always had kept him sane. There was no room for Casimir Prakenskii. No room for fire or anger, or anything that resembled emotion. He couldn't feel for the victims. He could only exact justice as dispassionately as possible.
He stepped through the door into his own personal nightmare. The body of a once-beautiful woman, broken and bloody, hung by her wrists from cuffs attached to chains dangling from the ceiling. Blood spatter was on the wall behind her as well as in a circle around the body on the floor. Casimir knew she was already dead, just from the way the body hung. She was nude and there were hundreds of whip marks, old and new, cut deep into her flesh.
"I don't know what the hell happened, Luigi," Arturo's voice came from around the corner. "She just died. Her fuckin' eyes rolled back in her head and the next thing I know, she was dead. I don't know, maybe I took it too fast for her. She just died. I'm going to have to get rid of the body. I figured I'd take her back to her estate in a couple of hours and then throw her over the cliff after Cosmos. You know, widow jumps to her death after husband dies."
In spite of his resolve not to feel anything, the fire in his belly began to burn through the ice he'd laid over top of it. This woman was Cosmos's widow, Carlotta. Luigi and Arturo had taken her from her home and planned to force her into prostitution. There was no remorse in Arturo's voice, only disgust.
"Now? You want me to get rid of her now? I suppose it's dark enough. Yeah, I'll take her out there now and I'll be back in an hour or so. It won't take long. Yeah. I'll fucking weigh her body down so no one finds it. Don't worry. This won't be a problem."
Casimir backed out of the room and slipped back outside. There was going to be another accident at the cliff. Arturo was going to die there. He waited in his car until Luigi's bodyguard came out of the building with the body - wrapped in a blanket - over his shoulder. He dumped it in the trunk of his car, went back and locked the building before driving away.
Casimir didn't have to follow directly behind. He already knew where Arturo was going. Every mile made the fire burning in his gut grow hotter. He had training. Discipline. Control. He had it all, but he let it go. Rolling down the window, he drew the night air as deep into his lungs as possible. Lissa was facing her nightmare of an uncle, he had to face his past. The sight of that broken body and hearing Arturo talking on his phone to Luigi, clearly uncaring that he'd killed a woman, brought every memory he'd buried flooding back.
He was a trained killer. An assassin. He had taken out so many targets he'd lost track, yet he had more regard for life than Arturo, Luigi or any of his instructors ever had. He had found, over the years, that perhaps the law was in place for a reason, but some of the biggest monsters fell through the cracks. Men like him were necessary. Not good, but necessary.
He chose an alternate route to get to Cosmos's estate and parked his vehicle where he had before. Again, there were no cars on the street and no one was out walking their dog. It was always the unexpected that could sink a job faster than anything. That person that came home early or forgot something important and returned for it. He stayed in his car a few minutes, getting a feel for the neighborhood, learning the rhythm of it.
Making ce
rtain the dome light wasn't working, he stepped out of the car and moved with absolute confidence - as if he belonged - toward the back gardens where he'd entered the property before. He didn't hesitate once he was in the cover the foliage provided. He jogged toward the cliff. Coming around the shrubs, he spotted Arturo heaving the widow's body over the cliff.
Arturo turned and, without a glance around, snagged the bloody blanket and walked back to the house. Casimir had expected him to leave immediately. Instead the man clearly had something important to do in the house. He followed at a distance. Arturo left the door open. Casimir took that as an invitation, but just in case, he was even more cautious.
Arturo didn't consider that anyone might be watching him. He went straight for the study and the computer. Pulling on gloves, he turned the machine on and, while it was booting up, poured himself a drink of whiskey. He downed it quickly and poured himself a second. The death of the widow had rattled him more than he let on - that or Luigi wasn't happy she'd died.
Arturo kept his gaze fixed on the screen. Once the computer was running, he sank into a chair and began to type. Looking over his shoulder, Casimir could see it was a suicide note. The widow just couldn't live without her husband. Casimir moved in close like the phantom he was, coming out of the shadows to stand just behind the bodyguard.
"Arturo. I think we need to talk. Don't go for your gun. I'd have to shoot you, and right now, all I intend to do is talk. You make me pull the trigger and I'm aiming for your heart. In case you wonder, I don't miss."
Arturo leapt up so fast he knocked the chair over. Casimir hit him on the side of his head with the butt of his gun. Hard, uncaring if the blow killed him. Arturo crumpled like a sack of potatoes. Casimir pushed the body aside with a none-too-gentle kick from his expensive shoes and leaned in to add a few lines to the suicide note. He shut down the computer and hoisted the body to his shoulder, strode from the house and dumped the body in the trunk of his rented car.
He shouldn't do this. He should dump the bastard in the sea and let that kill him, but he couldn't stop himself. He used zip ties to bind Arturo's hands and ankles and then slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth just in case he woke on their trip back to the building where Arturo and Luigi trained women for their prostitution ring.
Casimir knew better. He was making this personal, and one didn't make any job personal. Arturo represented every one of those instructors who had beaten him bloody, or beaten his partner in front of him. One always won and one always lost. Either the man had the discipline and control to withstand the sexual assault or the woman did. Either he could arouse the woman or she could arouse him. Whatever the demand, one of the partners was severely beaten or killed. More than one of his partners had been killed.
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling bile rise, hating those memories. Hating that he'd caused such pain to the young women forced to partner him. Hating that he'd caused their deaths. Men like Arturo felt nothing for the men and women they tortured, used and discarded. He shook his head and drove back to the "school." Luigi had come to this place every evening. There was no doubt in Casimir's mind that Luigi had used the widow often and aided Arturo in her "training."
He cursed under his breath and slammed his palm against the steering wheel. He'd come here several nights in a row and sat outside. Waiting. Watching. All the while, inside, they had tortured the young woman. These men planned on killing Lissa. Her uncle would never try to keep her alive in his prostitution ring. She knew too much and she was far too dangerous.
Arturo was awake when Casimir raised the trunk lid. His eyes spat hatred and a promise of retaliation. Casimir smiled at him. "Hey. Don't look so surprised. You had to know it was coming. You're a loose end." He dragged Arturo from the trunk, not being in the least gentle, deliberately dropping him twice on the ground as if his dead weight was too much to lift.
Frown lines appeared in Arturo's forehead. He made all sorts of noises, shaking his head in denial.
"Seriously?" Casimir continued, shouldering the man. "You can't be that stupid. He's gotten rid of everyone else. That niece of his will do Aldo Porcelli, and he'll do her. You're the last thread leading back to him. With you dead, no one is going to know he murdered his own brother and the heads of the Porcelli family. He's next in line. Once he's accepted as the boss, Angeline disappears and he's the golden boy. He has it all."
He opened the door of the training hall, went through and kicked the door closed behind him. "If you're thinking, why wouldn't he kill me too? I do you and disappear. I come in for the hard jobs, and I've worked with Luigi in the past. He can't find me unless I want to be found. I like money, not women or boys or power. It's that simple. You've always been a risk because you can't resist hurting the women you get under your control. He told me all about you and after watching you with the little widow these past few days, I'd say he was right to get rid of you. You're blackmail waiting to happen."
Casimir dumped Arturo in the middle of the sticky blood where the young woman had died. Arturo tried to scoot out of the puddle, but Casimir caught his arms and yanked them up, securing the cuffs that had bound the widow to the chains. With a flick of his knife, he cut away the zip ties and pocketed them.
"It's just business to me. That's all. I get in and get out. Disappear." He yanked the tape from Arturo's mouth and replaced it with a ball gag before moving around him to the mechanism to lift the body from the floor and hang him by his wrists. "The clothes are going to have to go. You and your little friend were playing and she accidentally killed you before flinging herself off the cliffs. The cops will probably suspect her of murdering her husband, but she'll have to bear that little burden. Luigi will most likely be able to supply evidence that you and the widow were seeing each other and you both liked kink."
Arturo shook his head savagely, his body writhing, legs trying to kick out, but they were tied together at the ankles. Casimir smirked. "You don't think the cops will buy that? They will accept circumstantial evidence. It's been my experience that they accept what seems believable, and this scenario is close enough to the truth to make it look very believable."
He clamped his hands around Arturo's legs and removed his shoes and stocks, stripped off his trousers, cutting them away with his knife, uncaring that every time Arturo fought to get free, the tip of the blade sliced open skin. "Whoa, looks like Carlotta liked knife play."
Arturo shook his head adamantly, making all kinds of noises around the ball gag. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth in a steady stream. Once he had cut the clothes away from Arturo, leaving him stark naked, Casimir locked the bodyguard's ankles into the tethers and again, removed the zip ties and pocketed them. He tossed the remnants of Arturo's clothes to one side.
"The widow's vehicle, the one you've been using, is at her home, but your prints are all over it. The suicide note tells how in love she was with you. How you loved to tie each other up and flog each other, but something went wrong and you died. She burned down the building and threw herself off the cliff where you both had thrown her husband over." He made little clucking noises and shook his head. "You certainly have a lot to answer for. Luigi will be properly ashamed when all this comes to light."
Casimir casually pulled plastic overalls and a jacket from his bag and donned both items over his immaculate clothing. He picked up the whip and held it up for Arturo to see. "To make this scene believable, we'll have to make it very authentic. Don't worry, I learned at the hands of masters, although it's been years since I practiced this particular art. I'm fairly certain I can do as much justice to this art form as you did on Carlotta."
A half an hour later, Casimir exited the building. If Arturo could have screamed around his ball gag, he would have. Flames were already licking at his feet and rushing up walls, responding to the direction of a true fire element.
11
Luigi rubbed his hands together, more than pleased with the evening's event. His niece had done her job efficiently, th
e way she always did. He really regretted having to kill such a competent and resourceful tool, but he wasn't going to take any chances, not now when he was so close to his goals. He sauntered out to his car. He couldn't celebrate with the lovely widow. He didn't like that he'd lost her, but maybe this worked out better. He would see that the men he paid such good money to every week would be assigned to her tragic case. No one would ever suspect Cosmos had been killed on Luigi's order. No one. Not when the tragedy surrounding his widow would become the number one topic of gossip.
He needed a woman. He'd tried to call Arturo several times but the man hadn't picked up. Still, he'd left him a message to pick up one of the girls working for him. One that still wasn't as trained as they'd like. The fact that Arturo hadn't answered meant he had brought the girl to their little school and was working with her. By now, she would need his tender care. Arturo always commanded fear. When Luigi arrived, the girl would need gentle handling. Not gentle when it came to sex, but those little intimate gestures they misread into thinking he cared for them. Just a touch here and there, that was all it took after Arturo spent a little time with them.