My gut twisted. “I do not like it.”
“What?”
“The Devil is on his way? Why is he named that?”
Naveen muttered something about Allah and other things in Arabic and then he switched back to English. “Can we focus on the fact that he will finish this and get us more answers? You shut off your phone. What was I to do?”
“I was busy.”
“With the ballerina?”
“Careful, Naveen.” I leaned back in the limo seat. “See if the Devil can get the package, I want the person’s fingerprints that stole the codes. Whoever did it, Jean-Pierre or not, they need to die. I want the list of all involved.”
“Figured. I will.” Naveen coughed again. “Oh. Where is Fuego? I couldn’t find him at the airport.”
I said nothing, not wanting to have this conversation with him.
“Misha?”
“Naveen, if you saw the way Ava’s grandmother looked, when she got off the plane, you would have done the same thing.”
“You killed Fuego?” He switched back to Arabic, raising his voice.
“Fuego beat an old woman and tied her up—”
“He was my friend.”
“For barely four years. What is four years to knowing each other all our lives.”
“Four years in a war multiplies that friendship.”
I sighed. “I am sorry, Naveen.”
“You’re not.”
“I truly am.”
“Goddamn it, Misha. Fuego had a sick mother in a nursing home. Now who will take care of her?”
“I will of course.”
“You damn right you will.”
“Any other relatives?”
“He has a daughter, but he was never in her life.”
“I can still send the daughter money. Will that be good?”
“Yes, but still. Go fuck yourself, Misha.” Naveen hung up.
I stared at the phone and spoke out loud to my men. “That went better than I thought.”
None of them spoke back, having no idea what I was talking about.
I glanced out of the window. A dark loneliness came over me. It was funny how I could be in a car with three other men, and still have this sense of seclusion.
“I’m not going to the office right now.” I turned to my main guard. “Have the driver take us to the Belmont.”
He pulled out his phone and gave the orders.
I returned to wondering about Naveen.
At least, Naveen thought I killed Fuego. If he knew Maxwell had done it, he would’ve taken care of Maxwell personally. Me, he wouldn’t kill. Me, he loved like a brother. Now Naveen would be short and annoyed as we handled this nuke situation. I would have to spend several years making amends.
It’ll take time for him to forgive me.
I dialed my godfather Rolan, knowing that he could help with the nuke situation. He’d also been six of the missed calls.
Perhaps, he figured out where my father’s body is.
Rolan picked up on the first ring. “Misha?”
“Yes, batya. How are things at the castle?”
“Did you know your father has imprisoned people? Nude men were chained to the wall. The guards would not let me take them down. So I shot them.”
“And where are the prisoners now?”
“In the hospital.”
“Father caught those men raping a maid.”
“Oh.” Rolan yelled at someone in the background, “Hey you, the men that we sent in the ambulance. Yes. Them. Kill them. Make it quick.”
I guess that’s solved.
“Has my father’s body resurfaced?” I looked out the window, wondering why the limo had slowed down.
Protestors crowded the intersection. Some blocked several streets. It had to be over thousands of people.
The limo slowed to a complete stop.
Guess I’ll add the president’s name to my long list of phone calls today.
“No. Your father’s body is still missing. I wish that was the oddest thing here. Apparently, Igor did some redecorating. Did Satan assist him?”
“Father got darker, after you left. No one to tell him no.”
“Not that he listened, when I told him no.”
“True.”
“Misha, the room with mirrors. What is it?”
“You can get rid of the mirrors.”
“Good, but that is not the problem. There is some little girl and her Mama in there. I tried to have the staff give her food. They said that she will only eat red things.”
I bobbed my head. “That is Yula. She is not a little girl. She is a little person.”
“A midget?”
“You are supposed to say little person.”
“She is eating a goddamn cherry pie with a knife!”
“Rolan, calm down.”
“I’m sorry.”
I knew he was rubbing that bald head.
“This castle has me on edge,” he said. “Even if we got a thousand popes to come here and piss on the wall, it would still be unholy.”
“Would a pope’s piss cleanse any area of evil?”
“Are you making fun of me, Mikhail?”
“No, batya.” Thank God, he couldn’t see the smile on my face. “I am sorry.”
“You should be here.”
“I know. I will be there in two days.”
“Why so long?”
“I have things to do.”
Rolan cursed me out in Russian for several seconds. I remained quiet. He said he was on edge, but clearly he’d jumped off the ledge a long time ago.