Rogue Angel 53: Bathed in Blood (12 page)

19

Annja was still a block away when she saw the flames. Their lurid brilliance lit the night sky ahead of her, outlining the trees and houses like some kind of macabre stage show.

Her heart dropped.

She turned into the cul-de-sac where Novack lived and stopped the car right in the middle of the road, staring at the conflagration.

There were four houses on the street—two on her right, one on her left, plus the one dead ahead that was engulfed in flames. She could hear the crackling of the fire as it ran rampant across the building, like some malevolent creature.

The fire truck she’d been following joined one that was already on the scene. Both of them were pulled to the curb right in front of the house. Firefighters from the new arrival scrambled to add their hoses to the mix, while those who’d arrived earlier poured a steady stream of water onto the flames.

It didn’t seem to be doing much good.

The flames rose hungrily into the night.

Annja found a place to park and hurried toward the house.

A small crowd had gathered on the lawn of Novack’s neighbor, watching the fire silently. Annja ran over to them, calling Novack’s name, hoping she would find him standing there, unharmed. She grabbed one person after another, turning them around so she could see their faces, quickly moving to the next when she saw it wasn’t him. It took only a few seconds to realize he wasn’t there. When she didn’t find him, Annja turned and headed for the house.

She didn’t make it very far. The fire was consuming the entire structure, and the flames roared as the heat beat against her face, preventing her from getting too close. She shouted Novack’s name, barely able to hear herself.

Firemen appeared on either side of her. One draped a wet blanket over her shoulders while the other took her arm and began to pull her away from the fire, shouting in her ear that she needed to move back, that it wasn’t safe where she was.

“There’s someone inside!” she shouted, fighting against them. “You’ve got to get in there! You’ve got to get him out!”

But her pleas fell on deaf ears as they dragged her away from the blaze. She struggled at first but then gave in so they wouldn’t have to carry her. The truth was there wasn’t anything she could do anyway; if Novack was inside, he was already dead.

A paramedic appeared at her elbow. “What’s your name, miss?”

“Annja,” she replied, still staring at the flames.

“Come with me, Annja.”

She tore her gaze away and did as she was told. The paramedic was a few years younger than she was, but his voice was calm as he led her over to the back of an ambulance and helped her sit down. Now that they were away from the fire, he exchanged the wet blanket for a dry one and examined the exposed skin of her face and hands before handing her a bottle of cool water. “You don’t look like you suffered any flash burns. Drink this, though, or your throat is going to be scorched from the heat.”

He watched her as she drank, waiting until she’d finished half the bottle—and calmed down—before asking his next question.

“Do you know if there was anyone inside?”

Annja nodded. Her throat rasped as she said, “Novack. Havel Novack. It’s his house.”

The name didn’t seem to mean anything to the paramedic. His expression was the same as he asked, “How do you know he was home?”

“We spoke on the phone not ten minutes ago. He sounded anxious, as if there was a problem, so I drove over to see if I could help.”

There was a loud crash, and Annja looked over the paramedic’s shoulder to see a section of the roof collapse into the house’s interior, allowing fresh flames to leap skyward. Firemen were working frantically to contain the blaze, using multiple hoses on the burning house as well as soaking the structures on either side in an effort to keep the fire from spreading. Additional emergency vehicles were arriving even as she watched, but it was looking like a lost cause.

She realized the paramedic was speaking to her again.

“...if that’s all right.”

She shook her head, focusing her attention back on him.

“I’m sorry, I missed that.”

He watched her carefully as he repeated himself, saying, “I’m sure the police will want to hear what you have to say. Why don’t you just wait here for a few minutes, if that’s all right with you?”

Annja nodded. “Sure. Sure, I’ll wait.”

The paramedic moved off to tend to some firefighters who had gotten too close to the flames, leaving Annja to watch the scene from the back of the ambulance. She looked on, still shocked by the sudden turn of events.

There was no longer any question of backing down. They—whoever
they
were—had killed a cop to keep their secret safe, and that meant they would stop at nothing to prevent the information Novack had collected from coming to light. It must be obvious that Annja was working with Novack—the files had been in her hotel room after all—which meant the killers would be gunning for her next.

To prevent that, she needed to go on the offensive.

It wasn’t going to be easy, though, since she had no idea who she was looking for.

The cops had arrived and were forcing the spectators back, away from the property and out of reach of the flames and heat. As Annja watched them, movement caught her eye, and she turned to see a dark sedan park a short distance away.

Something about the car was familiar, but she didn’t recognize it until the driver got out.

It was Tamás.

At the sight of him, Annja’s breath caught in her throat.

Her thoughts whirled.

Who had been involved in this investigation from the very start?

Tamás.

Who had known she was talking to Novack?

Tamás.

Who had tried to discredit the former detective in her eyes, to gently nudge her away from partnering with the man?

Yep, that’s right. Tamás.

She felt a cold chill run up her spine, and she turned away so he wouldn’t see her face.

Tamás had been Novack’s superior officer. Tamás had been one of those recommending Novack’s retirement. And Tamás had been assigned to the Vass case when she’d been brought into the hospital.

Metaphorically speaking, Tamás’s fingerprints were all over this mess.

Could he be the one? Could he be the killer?

Annja didn’t know.

But one thing, at least, was clear. She didn’t want to be anywhere near the man until she had an answer.

She pulled the blanket closer around herself to help hide her features as she watched him hustle over to the scene commander and begin asking questions. Annja waited until Tamás’s back was to her, and then quickly glanced around.

No one seemed to be looking in her direction.

Easy now, nice and slow. Don’t call attention to yourself.

The ambulance was parked next to a large tree, and Annja used that to her advantage, slipping around the side of the vehicle and into the shadows cast by the branches. As soon as she was out of sight, the truck now between her and Tamás, she began walking at a brisk pace away from the scene. She was tense, expecting to hear a shout and find someone chasing after her, but she kept walking, and when she reached the end of the cul-de-sac and pursuit hadn’t materialized, she began to breathe easier. Annja took the first turn she came to, headed deeper into the neighborhood and away from the main thoroughfare where there were sure to be additional police vehicles on the way.

Novack’s voice echoed in her head as she walked.

Get the files to Radecki.

She didn’t have the files anymore, but she had a lot of the material in her head, and she was confident she could recreate enough of a timeline to tell Novack’s associate what was going on, if he wasn’t up to speed already.

She made a few more turns until she found herself alone on a side street without a car in sight. Good enough, she thought.

She pulled out her cell phone and called the police station where she’d been interviewed a few days earlier. When she reached the desk sergeant, she asked to be transferred to Officer Radecki’s line.

The phone rang a few times, and then a recorded message played in her ear. She had no idea what was being said as the message was in Slovakian, but with little other help available she took a chance and left a vague message that wouldn’t mean much to anyone but Radecki himself.

“Hi, it’s Havel’s friend. We’ve got a lot to talk about so I thought we might get together—the sooner, the better. Call me at this number.”

She didn’t bother leaving her cell number; the station’s automatic caller ID would give Radecki what he needed to reach her.

Now there was nothing to do but wait.

And walk.

20

An elderly man in a pickup truck gave Annja a ride, letting her off a few blocks away from her hotel. She thanked him with a wave and waited for him to drive out of sight before she turned and headed toward the hotel. She’d only gone a few yards, however, before her steps faltered, and then she stopped.

She couldn’t go back to her room.

If someone wanted to eliminate her, just as they’d done with Novack, the hotel would be the first place they would look. They’d already been in her room.

The hotel was a trap.

She needed somewhere new.

Simply switching to one of the nearby hotels wouldn’t work. That was the most obvious option and those pursuing her were likely to think of it, as well.

No, she needed something farther afield.

Annja pulled her phone out of her pocket and hunted down a small, isolated hotel in one of the less picturesque sides of town. She saved the address and then, after flagging down a cab, showed it to the driver.

The first cabbie refused to take her there, which told her she had just the right kind of place.

So did the second.

The third, however, was more than happy to take her money. He drove her to the requested destination without a word and hurried off as soon as she got out of the car.

Annja took one look around and thought, You’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

The hotel, a four-story affair with a blinking neon sign that was missing three letters, was sandwiched between a run-down tenement building and a deserted gas station. A few hard-looking men loitering on the steps of the tenement next door perked up at the sight of her, but she stood her ground and stared back, like a lioness protecting her kill, and the hyenas looking to scavenge the scraps got the message very quickly.

Annja went inside and got herself a room on the third floor. The elevator didn’t look all that sturdy, so she chose to take the stairs.

Her room contained only what she’d expected—a bed, a sink and a hardback chair. Nothing more and nothing less. Austere chic, she thought with a wry grin.

But good enough for now.

She chained the door behind her, then took the chair and wedged it under the doorknob. It wouldn’t keep a determined person out for very long, but even a few moments could be a precious resource in certain situations.

Satisfied with her preparations—as feeble as they were—Annja collapsed onto the bed and was asleep in moments.

* * *

A
RINGING
PHONE
jarred her awake.

She sat up abruptly, her heart pounding, and glanced at the screen on her phone.

It was 2:00 a.m.

“Hello?”

There was silence and then a male voice spoke. “This is Havel’s friend. Do you understand?”

Annja swung her legs over the side of the bed, instantly alert.

“Yes.”

“You’ve heard?”

He could only be talking about the fire, she realized. A mixture of sorrow and anger swam through her at the thought. She pushed it aside, focusing on what was being said. “Yes, I’ve heard,” she replied.

“We should talk.”

“I agree.”

“Meet me where you first met Havel in an hour. Can you do that?”

Annja frowned. The tavern in Čachtice would have closed hours ago. “It’s two in the morning. It isn’t going to be open.”

“I’ll take care of that. Just be sure you’re there on time. If you’re late, I’ll be gone.” He hung up the phone without saying anything more.

An hour.

She’d have to move quickly. Čachtice wasn’t very far away—she could make the trip in less than fifteen minutes—but finding a cab in this neighborhood at this hour was going to be tricky.

She was already dressed, so all she had to do was pull on her shoes. It occurred to her that all she had left were a few bucks, her phone and the clothes on her back. Everything else—including her camera equipment—was either locked in the safe at her first hotel or stored in the trunk of the car she’d abandoned at the scene of the fire.

It was a depressing thought, but she shrugged it off with a reminder that Radecki, the man she was going to meet, was also a cop. If anyone could get the police off her back and help her collect her belongings, never mind the rental car itself, he was the one.

She took the stairs to the lobby and banged on the bell sitting on the check-in counter until the pimply-faced kid who worked the night shift sauntered in from the back room. He looked her up and down, as if he was evaluating a piece of meat, and then licked his lips.

“You might want to ring that again,” he said in English, indicating the bell with a nod of his head. “I’m not sure I heard you the first fifty times.”

Annja ignored both his stare and his attitude.

“I need a cab. With a driver who speaks English.”

He nodded. “You need a cab. Huh. Well, good for you.”

Then he just stood there, making no move to help her.

Annja counted to five—no way she was getting to ten—and then said calmly, “Perhaps you misunderstood. I need a cab and I need you to call one for me.”

He gave her the head-to-toe look again and said, “What’s in it for me?”

It was two o’clock in the morning on a day when her hotel room had been invaded, her belongings stolen and her partner in a serial killer investigation horribly murdered for what he knew about the case. And now this punk was leering at her.

Maybe she was overtired. Maybe she was stressed over the day’s events. Maybe she’d just reached her limit when it came to idiots trying to make the world more miserable for the rest of us.

Whatever the trigger, she’d had enough.

With a cold smile, Annja stepped closer to the front desk. When her hands were hidden behind the counter, she reached into the otherwhere and drew forth her sword. Then she walked around the front desk, keeping the man in her sights. Before the desk clerk could say another word, she had him backed up against the wall, the point of the weapon pressed tightly against his bare throat.

Calmly, Annja, calmly, she reminded herself.

“I’ve had a really long day and it’s going to be even longer before it’s done. I would like you to call a cab for me. I’ve asked nicely, but you’ve chosen not to respond in the proper fashion, leaving me no choice but to be more forceful in my request.”

She pressed down ever so slightly on the hilt of the sword.

The clerk went very still, his eyes wide and locked on Annja’s face.

“Do we understand each other?” she asked, turning the blade one way and then the other.

He winced and very carefully nodded his head.

“Good. Call the cab, please.”

Annja stepped back and lowered her sword, freeing the clerk to do as she’d asked.

He turned his back to Annja and reached for the phone.

Annja released the sword back into the otherwhere.

The clerk dialed a number and spoke rapidly in Slovak when someone answered. Then he hung up.

“Done,” he said. “Ten minutes.”

“You know what’s going to happen if you called the police instead of a cab company, right?”

The clerk nodded vigorously as he reached up to rub the spot where the sword had pressed against his throat. Then he looked around frantically.

“Where did the sword go?”

Annja smiled sweetly at him. “What sword?”

“The one you were just...”

Seeing the expression in Annja’s eyes, he stopped talking.

“Ten minutes, then,” Annja said, and made a show of checking her phone for the time.

The clerk grew paler and kept a worried eye on the clock while they waited.

The cabbie was true to his word, arriving nine minutes after the call had been made. The clerk had such a look of relief on his face as the cab pulled to the curb outside that Annja couldn’t resist one final jab as she stepped out the door.

Looking back over her shoulder, she said, “Tell anyone what you’ve seen or heard today and I’ll be back to pay you a little visit. And this time I won’t be so easy on you.”

The clerk went paler still and looked as if he were about to pass out.

He won’t tell a soul, Annja thought, and left him to his own devices.

Annja got into the cab, told the driver where she wanted to go and then settled back as he pulled away from the curb and headed out of Nové Mesto.