We thank Britta, pay our bill, and pile into the SUV. Tito Googles for reports. There are none. It’s all very strange.
“We need the police report. That’ll tell us what the fuck,” Aleksio says. We look up the precinct roster and study the names of local cops. We email them to Konstantin, the old hit man who saved Aleksio. Aleksio thinks Konstantin might have a connection.
“It is public information, right?” I say. “We ask for it.”
“Yeah, it’s public, and we could ask,” Aleksio says, “but I’m guessing they’ll make us file for it—a Freedom of Information request. And what if the officials here are connected to Lazarus’s people? Lazarus had meth operations up here for a while—he could have eyes and ears here. He doesn’t have this lead on Kiro, and I want to keep it that way. If we could bribe somebody, that’s nice and quiet.”
Konstantin gets right back to us—he doesn’t have connections to the police here, but he thinks Lazarus does for sure.
“We could do a takeover of the police station,” I say.
Aleksio snorts. “We could, but…” He thinks about it a while.
“It would be easy. They would have nothing but a few clerks in a police station out here. Right? Easy to take.”
Aleksio considers this. “Yeah, but if we didn’t get what we wanted, Lazarus would definitely look hard at this place. And he has the reach to find things faster.”
“And it’s robbing a police station,” Tito says. “There’s that.”
I snort. “You Americans.”
Tito laughs. “Dude.”
“No, this feels like a time to go sure and slow and smart,” Aleksio says. “For Kiro.”
Aleksio has a plan—one of the investigators we use writes history books, loves his dusty records. “We’re going to send him up like he’s writing a book on the area and have him file for several things at once, not single out the cabin incident. We’ll have him file for every big incident report of this area for the year so they won’t be alerted to that specifically. It’ll take a few days, maybe a week, before they let him go to the county courthouse and examine the records, but it’s safest. Safest for Kiro.”
“Unless Lazarus has this lead.”
“I don’t see how.” Aleksio makes the call and gets the P.I. right on it.
We’re silent for much of the drive home, all of us thinking about that cage. Kiro in that cage. Midway back to Chicago, Aleksio starts talking about the money-laundering heist. Another way we have to hurt Lazarus.
It feels good. I want very much to hurt Lazarus right now. If I can’t watch Tanechka or rescue Kiro, I want to fight Lazarus.
Aleksio thinks they run their dirty cash through a restaurant supply warehouse on the South Side.
I turn to him. “Say the word, brat. We could attack there as soon as we land. Make it bloody. Divert their attention.”
“Tempting,” Aleksio says. “But let’s do the recon first.”
I sit back, fighting the urge to take out my phone and check on Tanechka. I remind myself that Aleksio needs to see that I am not obsessed. I remind myself I’m recording the feeds at home, that I will see everything when I get back. I’ll watch Tanechka and review the feeds of the other girls. Catching up on the feeds can be confusing and time-consuming when you’re trying to watch them live at the same time, but I’ve done it.
After we land, Aleksio decides that he needs my help with recon of the warehouse. I know what he’s doing—keeping me from watching Tanechka.
Fine. I go with him.
We drive by the restaurant supply warehouse owned by Lazarus. This is a run-down part of town. Many buildings vacant. Many windows broken. I take note of the entrances and sightlines all around.
Most interesting is the warehouse right next door to it. It has a broken chimney on top. A broken chimney is a good place for a man to hide while he studies Lazarus’s money-laundering operations.
A sign over the door of this warehouse with a broken chimney says “Brenner Industries.” Aleksio looks on Google and tells us Brenner is imported textiles. We head around to a door marked “Deliveries Only” and ring the bell. A security guard opens the door. He is a retired man.
Aleksio and I don’t bother drawing on this retired man; we just push our way in.
The man raises his hands. He knows what it is, what we are. The place smells of chemicals they use to keep the cloth free of moths and other vermin.
Aleksio says, “This is either your worst day ever or your best day ever. Which do you want?”
“Best day,” the man says warily.
Aleksio makes the deal with him. This retired man agrees to let one of our men go up and hide in the chimney and stake out Lazarus’s warehouse. He and Aleksio discuss how they will get the other guard who works there to play along.
This retired man sees that it can be a good day for them both. They’ll both be paid. The warehouse they protect will not be harmed.
Chapter Five
Tanechka