‘Georgia, I think.’
For a moment, the unexpected answer sent Ryker’s brain whirring. Georgia. Ex-Soviet state. A lot of its culture, including that of its mafia, shared many similarities with Russia. More than that, though, Georgia was where Anna Abayev, just a teenage girl, had first killed. The pieces of the jigsaw hadn’t yet fully fitted, but they were coming closer together.
Ryker brought himself back on track. ‘You’ve noticed Sergei’s tattoos?’
‘On his hands? Yeah, I guess.’ Eva shrugged.
‘And on the rest of him?’
‘I’ve never seen the rest of him.’ Eva scowled. ‘Why? Have you?’
‘No. And I don’t need to. Have you heard of the Vory? Thieves in law?’
‘Of course I have.’
‘And what do you know?’
‘That they’re mostly make-believe. People create scare stories that make the Vory out to be these all-powerful beings who rule the world. Most of the real Vory are in prison. That’s where the Vor culture started and that’s where they’ll stay the rest of their lives. They’re a bunch of lowlifes. A prison gang. The ones on the outside are mostly petty criminals who want to be like the Vory they read about in the papers and see on TV shows.’
Ryker agreed with every word she’d said. The organised criminal underworld, rising in prominence in Russia in the early twentieth century, had been virtually exterminated following the 1917 Russian revolution. The secret police of Stalin’s government shunted criminals and political opposition alike into the many forced labour camps. The Vory and their anti-authority culture was born in the gulags and crept into the outside world as the years went by.
Following the break-up of the Soviet Union, organised crime, led by the Vory, was once again able to infiltrate every aspect of society. Including the government. But many Vory were still fiercely opposed to all elements of government authority. They were the ones who fled Russia, taking their money and their criminal culture with them.
Ryker would have betted his life that Sergei was one such Vor. And if he was there in Andalusia, working as a babysitter for Kozlov, it meant Kozlov was somehow connected to that world too. But Kozlov didn’t strike Ryker as a leader of the mafia. Probably just a money spinner. There would be others in the mix somewhere. The big fish.
‘You think Sergei is a Vor?’ Eva said with what Ryker determined to be fake incredulity.
‘I don’t think it, Eva. I know it.’
‘What, because of a couple of tattoos on his hands?’
‘No, not just that.’
The drinks came, and Eva took a large swig of her wine. Ryker picked up his cup and inhaled. The scent of the thick, treacly black coffee sent a wave of clarity through his brain.
‘And what about my father?’ Eva said. ‘You’re saying you think he’s a Vor?’
‘Not at all. In fact I’m certain he’s not. But I do believe he’s got himself mixed up with them, one way or another.’ Ryker sipped the coffee. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘Let me put it like this. If what you’re saying, these accusations, if they’re true, shouldn’t you stay away rather than pry? The Vory are very dangerous people, are they not?’
Ryker scoffed. ‘Seriously? That’s your answer. Some lame threat. What, is Sergei going to take me out the back for a beating? Perhaps you’ve misunderstood exactly who I am, Eva.’
Her cheeks blushed red. This wasn’t the cock-sure woman he’d seen before, which only further confirmed his growing suspicions.
‘You didn’t answer my first question,’ Ryker said, to keep the pressure on. He wanted to see her reaction when cornered. ‘How long has your father worked for them?’
‘I’m not saying another thing about it,’ Eva snapped. ‘This is crazy. You’re crazy.’
Eva downed the remainder of her glass of wine and got to her feet. Ryker smiled at having rattled her.
‘Sit down,’ he said. ‘Come on. I’m sorry. Why don’t we talk about something else. Your grandma? This village? Your charity work. How you live in a billionaire’s mansion and drive hundred-grand cars but hate material things.’
For a second it looked as though Eva was about to explode. He could see she wanted to take charge of the situation, to be the one to hold the power. But virtually all of her power came from her looks and her charm, and her ability to use those traits against unwitting men. Ryker wasn’t going to fall for that, no matter how strong her allure. She was lost in the situation she now found herself in and it was clear she knew it.
‘I think I’m done here. Bye, James.’
‘My car’s at your house,’ Ryker said, not moving from his seat.
‘Then you can find your own way back there to collect it.’
‘Daddy wouldn’t be pleased if he came home to find it there, would he? To know that you’d gone out with me.’
‘Fine. Come with us. Get your car then go.’
Ryker smiled. ‘Thanks.’
They walked the short distance back to the SUV. Sergei was leaning against the driver’s door and smoking a cigarette, his face passive as ever. He looked up when he spotted Eva and Ryker heading over.
‘Come on,’ Eva said to him in Spanish. ‘It’s time to go.’
Sergei looked surprised at them being back so soon but still didn’t say a word.
The sun was setting as they headed back down to the coast. Despite the silence in the car, Eva seemed to warm up again as the awkwardness from the conversation in the bar dissipated. She tapped away on her phone for a few minutes then finally looked up at Ryker and smiled. It came across as warm and pleasant. But Ryker didn’t buy it. She was planning something.
‘Sergei,’ Eva said. ‘My friend here told me he thinks you’re a Vor. Can you believe that?’
She spoke in Russian. Perhaps she thought she was being cute. Or clever. Or snide. Or all three. Clearly she’d not reckoned on Ryker speaking Russian fluently. He’d worked in Russia and the ex-Soviet states countless times in his long JIA career, and it was by far his most comfortable foreign language.
Sergei said nothing, just glanced at Ryker in the rear-view mirror then back to the road.
‘He says he’s going to have you arrested. Sent to the gulag,’ Eva continued, smiling. ‘What do you think you should do to a man like that?’