Red Reaper - Soldiers of Fortune [book one]

Chapter TWENTY NINE

Konstantin Ivanov

I consider my well groomed reflection in the two way-mirror of the interrogation room, reaching up to casually brush my hair back neatly into place, showing no sign of stress or concern as I wait.. Unbothered by the Arctic temperature of the AC, I completely ignore the two incompetent dickheads as they strut into the small space, taking up the chairs opposite me as they unfold their papers on the desk..

Unblinking with passive patience, I fold my hands in front of me on the metal surface of the tabletop and prepare for a second round of their questions..

"We already know yeh' were in the vicinity of the hit and it's only a matter of time before we get our hands on the weapon.. We'll have a warrant to search yer' property before the end of the day.. So why don't yeh' cut this shit and level with us, Ivanov.. Tell us how Wren Andrews wound up on yer' radar.." There are a number of facts I am able to gleam from Brody Donovan and his half cocked accusations.. Firstly, they still haven't found the cremated remains of the ghost gun which means they don't yet know what the weapon was or the post from which Wren Andrews was targeted.. Additionally, given the explosive nature of the ammo I used to obliterate man's skull, it will likely prove a difficult, time consuming task for whoever has to calculate a ballistic report..

Secondly, if my home is not ransacked by end of business hours today it is unlikely their request for a warrant has been granted on the grounds of lacking evidence.. Not that a search of my apartment would yield them a victorious result, I do not keep unregistered arms in my home.. I'm not a fucking idiot..

And thirdly, the police have not been able to find a single thread that connects me to Wren Anderson and they never will.. I had not met the man, I'd never spoken to nor had any form of contact with him.. Lucky is the one degree of separation we had shared, but that alone is not enough for bets to be hedged upon prosecution.. I have always known this..

There is no tangible motive that would convince a jury I am guilty of this crime..

Really what I have come to learn since the second voluntarily set foot into the precinct just over an hour ago, is that these two Detectives know sweet fuck all..

"I already tell you, Detective, I do not know thiz man.. Lazt night I take my girlfriend to see ballet, we watch 'ze show, we go to restaurant, we go to docks, that iz all.." I casually brush the wrinkles from the sleeves of my designer suit jacket before lifting my bored gaze to watch the blatant jealousy tighten Brody's jaw.. The man fucking hates me, and I find it sadistically satisfying to witness his seething rage..

"So then tell us again.. What did you do after leaving the theatre?" His knuckles ball into fists on the table top as he growls his questions through gritted..

"Ah, I do not kiss and tell, my friend.." I smirk a smug grin that only serves to enrage my interrogator.. "Are you sure thiz iz vury relevant, Detective? Or iz it much more about something else? A tiny matter of dissatisfaction with my explanationz, perhapz? Do I not speak clearly, or iz it that I do not say what it iz you wish to hear?"

My taunts bring a rise of redness up his throat to colour his cheeks and darken his eyes.. "Answer the fucking question, Russkiy!"

"Vury well.. We go to Tea-Room to eat a little, drink Vodka and share dessert.. We go to docks and watch 'ze boats.. We have vury nice time together.." I hum as I check the time on the diamond studded face of my gold watch.. "I am sure she will tell you thiz.. Mizz O'Cléirigh iz never dissatisfied in my company, Detective.."

"You piece of shit--" His left eye twitches in irritation at my implied meaning.. "Did you fuck her?"

Diago cuts in with a sharp cough and puts a warning hand over Brody's shoulder.. "Whoa, man.. You need to chill out.."

"Da.. Lizten to your comrade, Brody.. Chill out.." I chuckle darkly and mimic the nonsense American slang 'chill out' with a sly smile..

"Russkiy-fucking-cunt.." Brody huffs, mumbling his discontent while jerking up out of his seat to stomp around the room.. With the Irishman relegated to a back up role, Diago leans forward and takes over, playing his part of 'good cop' very well..

Ah, but I have seen this act before..

"Look, I'm gonna level with you Ivanov, your girl-- she's not corroborating your story, so you might as well make it easy on yourself.." Diago attempts to bait me with an easy manner and a sympathetic tone.. "Tell us what you know and maybe we can put in a good word with the DA's office and you can cut yourself a deal.."

"Ah, you see, I think 'zat you are full of much shit, Detective, it fallz from your mouth to smear acorss 'zat smug fucking face.." I push up to my feet and the two lawmen look at each other in frustration, out of tactics and out of time.. "I also think 'zat Mizz O'Cléirigh iz vury much corroborating what it iz I say.. Otherwize, I would not be so free to leave.. Which I think I will do now.."

"Fucker--" Brody grumbles beneath his breath..

"Unlezz you wish to arrest me?" I hold out my hands, wrists together, surrendering myself.. But neither makes a move to cuff me.. Of course not, they have no grounds.. "Nyet?"

"Yeah Yeah.. Get the fuck outta here Ivanov.." Brody waves his hand towards the door, sick of my mocking presence.. "Just don'ee think about leavin' town.. We'll be seein' yeh' again, real soon.."

"And I am vury much looking forward to it, Detective Donovan.." I chuckle with a curt bow of my head and a wave of my hand before striding out of the room, leaving them behind to fumble through the rest of their investigation..