The Upside of Death

Zach and Lovejoy. Part 27

The sheriff's department was in Flagstaff, a forty-five-minute ride in the cruiser, all in silence, Lovejoy up front and driving, Cooper beside Zach in the back. Zach clutched a water bottle the medic had handed him. He knew the cops would work their way through the interrogation procedure at the pace they preferred. Slow and thorough. The Russians, meanwhile, were taking Keera further away, to a new and unknown destination. Nothing he could do about it.

Inside, Cooper led him to a room populated with cubicles and deputies. He homed in on a cube and powered up a computer.

"I need you to prove your identification."

"They took my wallet," Zach replied. Reached around to his back pocket and found the credit card. "All I got is this."

Cooper laid it on the desk, pounded some information into the computer. "You keep this in a secret pocket or something?"

"Pretty much." He didn't add more; it'd take up interrogation time.

"Any other way of proving who you are?" Cooper asked.

"Try the Chicago Post website. They have a photo of me that goes with my byline. It's a bit dated, but it still looks like me. Minus the bruises one of those goons gave me."

"Reporter, eh?" Cooper said while he clacked at the keyboard. "Got yourself a story this time, then."

"Not by choice."

"Give me a description of the Russians."

"The driver, they call Yuri," Zach said. 'He's got a flat face and flat hair. Thin and blond."

"The hair or the body?" asked Cooper, who'd revealed a thinning top of his own when he removed his cap.

"The hair. He's slightly built but looks fit. Carries a weapon. They all do."

"What sort?"

"Dunno. The one I found in the car was a Glock. They took it off me. That's all I know."

"Fine weapon."

"If you say so. The main guy, they call Vronsky. He's the brains, and the other two don't argue with him. Tubby around the waist, shortish, with long black hair to his shoulders."

"They speak good English?"

"Vronsky and Yuri, yes, but accented. The other guy Semyon, speaks accent with a touch of English."

"Excuse me?" Cooper peered at him sideways.

"Semyon speaks little English as far as I can tell."

"What does this character look like?" Cooper resumed typing.

"Big, bald—shaved bald, I mean. Knows how to use his fists and likes to use them. I can supply a personal reference to that fact."

Cooper looked at him again. "Does that mean he's the one who hit you?"

"Yes."

Cooper back at the monitor again. "I'm assuming you gave him a reason?"

"Hey, I'm one of the victims here." What was it that made cops hate him so quickly?

"Just kidding," Cooper said, and moved his mouse around and clicked it a few times. "How do you know their names? Kidnappers don't usually introduce themselves."

Good question. "We overheard them talking. It's not hard to spot a name being used in a foreign language. It tends to get repeated a lot. They didn't try to hide much, either. Maybe they were intending to kill us anyway."