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He studied the color-printed photographs of the siblings. Attractive young people, both of them. The resemblance was striking. The girl, Caroline, studied art at Evergreen State College, and worked as an artist’s model for the drawing classes. Posing naked in front of crowds of degenerate artists, the wanton little slut. He wondered if she would be as appetizing naked as her voluptuous older sister. He was looking forward to making the comparison. Caroline seemed more delicate and waiflike than her older sister, but had the same big, startled green eyes. As did the brother, Joshua, who studied mechanical engineering at University of Washington, and worked at an electronics store at a nearby mall. Both of them within easy reach. Good. Very good.
He chided himself inwardly. He really did not have the leisure to indulge in dangerous games like this. He had important business to conduct during his stay here. Vast sums of money to be made. If the Cattrells had come from a large, connected family who would have raised a fuss at their disappearance, he would have found an alternate way of unloading his vindictive impulses.
But they were a gaggle of wretched orphans with no money, no status, no powerful friends. They answered only to each other. Perfect.
Ah, how he enjoyed staging elaborate games of emotional torture. It took art to make the punishment fit the crime so perfectly, and he was a consummate artist. And speaking of punishment. He turned to Pavel, who was skulking by the door as if poised for escape. He gestured the man closer with an imperious wave of his hand.
“I have a job for you, Pavel,” he said.
“To collect the brother and sister?” Pavel guessed hastily. “I’ll leave immediately. I’ll need to take at least two men—”
“No, not yet. Not quite yet,” Zhoglo cut in, impatiently.
Pavel’s eyes dilated in alarm. “What then, Vor?”
“I think it is now time for you to visit your dear friend. Ludmilla,” Zhoglo said, slowly and deliberately. “You will be offering her a very lucrative contract. To provide sexual entertainment for myself and incidentally, for my employees, during our sojourn here in Seattle.”
“Vor, I do not believe that Ludmilla had any connection—”
“Then you are a fool. Fools should stay silent, and listen.”
Pavel flinched and subsided, like a whipped dog. Zhoglo resumed his light, musing tone. “You will go to Ludmilla. By now, our enemy will have arranged to be watching and listening. This is good. You will speak to Ludmilla privately, at great length. You will speak of very large sums of money. Of ongoing contracts. Greedy, self-interested whore that she is, she will put her fear aside in hope of profit. She will offer you liquor, and you will indulge—to the point of inebriation or at least the appearance of it. You will confide in her what happened. How the Vor is so angry with you, so cruel to you. She will be horrified. She will try to comfort you. Perhaps, out of fear, or guilt, she will even fuck you.”
Pavel’s eyes were squeezed tightly shut. “Vor, I do not wish to—”
“What you wish, Pavel, is of less than no interest to me,” he said. “The woman must be, what, in her fifties? Is she attractive?”
“Late forties,” Pavel said tonelessly. “And yes. She is attractive enough.”
“Ah, good.” Zhoglo gave him an encouraging slap on the back. “Fuck her, then. It will relax you. You are too tense, my friend. Keep in mind, you must stay with her as long as possible, to give our enemies time to organize themselves. So they can follow you back here.”
“Here?” Pavel’s eyes goggled. “But Vor, no one knows that you are here. Is that safe? If I—”
“Safe? No. Nothing that I do is safe,” Zhoglo scoffed. “I did not earn fifty billion dollars being safe, my dear Pavel. Safe bores me. Boredom makes me testy.”
“But…but the police—”
“The police will give me no trouble. I have an understanding with them. They are not the ones who stabbed me in the back, Pavel. I wish to know who did. I wish to eliminate my enemy.”
“Yes, of course, but—”
“And I want Solokov,” Zhoglo went on, almost dreamily. “I want him to watch what I do to the pretty Rebecca. Just as she will watch what I do to her precious little brother and sister. It is all about watching, you see, Pavel. They watch Ludmilla and you. They watch us. We, in turn, watch them watching us. And we push them around the game board as we see fit. You see, eh? How this game is played?”
Pavel looked miserable. “Yes, Vor,” he muttered.
But Zhoglo wasn’t finished with his flight of fancy. “This is the part of the fight where the two opponents circle each other, study each other, looking for weaknesses. It’s stimulating. And ah, yes, Pavel—on the subject of stimulation, you being the expert whore-goer among us, do you have any other source of beautiful call girls in this city besides that traitorous bitch Ludmilla?”
Pavel looked perplexed. “Yes, Vor. Several. But I thought—I thought you wanted your enemies to follow—”
“I do. That has nothing to do with this,” the Vor sighed. “This is a separate matter. Not for their ears. Find me a girl. Extremely beautiful. Blonde, if possible. Fresh and innocent looking. Under twenty. Intelligent enough to play an amusing charade for us.”
Pavel cleared his throat, nodded. “Yes, Vor. I know just the girl.”
Zhoglo gave him an approving smile. “I thought you might. Get her for me immediately.” His face took on an expression of mock sadness. “Poor Marya. Does she know of her worthless husband’s weakness?”
Pavel swallowed. “Ah, no, Vor.”
“Not that I have anything against whores, of course. My own mother was a whore, or so I was told. And oh, yes. That reminds me. Speaking of mothers and whores, Mikhail, would you set up another videocall? There was something I wanted to show you. Were you aware that your wife was trying to desert you, Pavel? With Misha? She had gotten almost as far as Cracow when my men caught up with her and brought her back.”
