White Night

Chapter 45

"You know why you're here?" The bitch cop moved toward Nikolai with her stupid walk, but she still fought like a hellcat when he went for her gun. If she'd just let him take it, they wouldn't be here now.

"Because the police have a problem with immigrants going about their business." He shrugged. His father's watch showed 11:00 a.m. Katya's play began in five hours and he would miss it because of this whore. He'd like to see her struggle underneath him...

"Your business was shooting a weapon at a police officer and a witness?" the male detective said sharply.

"You are mistaken. My gun was empty." He grinned.

"It wasn't empty. It was emptied when you shot at the men who were chasing you."

"But I didn't shoot at you, did I?"

If they were going to hold him here, away from his daughter's debut on the stage, then he would rub their noses in every question. He'd been stupid to be in the area when the ambush took place, but the cop's last-minute call didn't give them much time to react or plan, and Grensky was incapable of planning anyway. Then they were there right in front of him, the witness and the female pig. If the blond boar hadn't arrived, he would've finished them himself.

"Who was trying to kill you, Nikolai?" the bitch asked.

Who hadn't over the years? It was why White Night was so necessary, his escape from his life of servitude to the Romanos and flying bullets. This time it was the Colombians, screaming at him about the meth lab and fifty lousy G's going up in smoke.

"Who tried to kill you, Nikolai?" she repeated.

"Many people will try to destroy a successful man, Detective."

"Tell me about John Weston," she said casually.

His heart almost stopped. How had these assholes connected him to Weston?

"Who?" he said calmly.

Now he wanted her to speak. The female cop stared back at him but said nothing, so she knew nothing. He released the breath he'd been holding.

"John Weston?" the male added.

He leaned back in his chair. All you had to do with the cops was take your time. Stay quiet and make them work for weeks, chasing their tails to find nothing at all.

"No. Nothing familiar," he replied with a smile. It annoyed her, his only joy on a wasted afternoon. Katya would be changing into her costume now and asking where her daddy was.

Screw you, lady detective, for keeping me here.

"We're running ballistics on your gun. If it matches the bullets from the victims, then you're looking at twenty to life," she said confidently, but she would never match the bullets to his gun.

The door opened and his lawyer walked in. His heart stopped. Either Andreas Conti was busy, or this was the first sign that the Romanos were no longer behind him. Conti was a legend, his presence alone made cops nervous, but the pencil-thin Danny Treganno was barely a pretender.

The Romanos' second-string lawyer looked like a broom handle wrapped in expensive cloth, with tiny eyes and fish belly skin. He'd be lucky if Treganno could get him off a weapons charge, never mind murder.

"I would like to speak to my client in private," Treganno said, nervously adjusting his glasses.

Nikolai folded his arms and smiled. The detectives glanced at each other, then started to pack up their papers.

Yes, bye-bye, cops. See you soon.

The cops dragged their feet, the bitch more than usual, but finally left.

"What's going on, Nikolai?" Treganno asked as the door clicked shut.

"Cops picked me up with my gun on me. Minor weapons charge."

The pencil man looked at his papers. "It says here that they caught you shooting in the street. Who were you shooting at?"

"No one. They are mistaken. How is the Don?"

"He's good, Nikolai. He's good." Treganno shifted in his seat.

It was a lie. Treganno had probably never met the Don. Romano wouldn't waste his time on this paper pusher.

"So how long to get me out?"

"Ah. I'm afraid it's not that simple, but it should be within forty-eight hours."

Forty-eight hours...

White Night would detonate in twenty-two hours, and with it, a long, sad future stuck under an olive-skinned thumb, not to mention any need to see Celso's smug face again. He couldn't miss this chance...

"That's too bad, as I have to meet someone to set up a deal for the family tomorrow night, but they'll only meet with me."

Treganno looked up at him through his tiny glasses and ran his fingers through what was left of his hair, pathetic wisps barely covering his shiny head.

"I'll see what I can do, Nikolai."

"Hope so, chance of a lot of new business for the family."

Treganno looked slightly sick. He knew that Don Romano valued new business above lawyers' statutes and rules.

"But don't tell the Don until I know the money's coming for sure."

He knew Treganno would tell the Romanos about the meeting. Mauro would be expecting an update from the lawyer, and Treganno wouldn't risk keeping anything from him. Don Romano would know before the end of the night.

Tomorrow, he would let the location slip, and Celso would go there to "take care of business." Celso had to be there and watch him enter the building. The Don's son would be an important witness to the destruction of the surrounding blocks, confirming that Nikolai had to be dead. All balls and determined to catch Nikolai dealing outside the family, Celso would get close enough to be hit by the blast. That shiny young face rearranged with fire and shrapnel. Celso's son would never touch Katya, and Don Romano would be told through his own son's melted lips that Nikolai was dead.

Then he would be free. Galina would return to her native Russia with Katya and marry another man, arranged of course. The newlyweds would die in a car accident months later, and the Romanos would be led to believe that Katya was killed as well. Then his daughter would finally join her father under the warm tropical sun.

"Nikolai?" Treganno asked, but he was already making footprints on the beach, holding his little girl's hand.

"Yes...?" he replied slowly.

"I'll talk to the judge and see if we can move up the arraignment."

"Talk to Judge Cavanagh. He knows me."

The Romanos would get him out in time, he could count on that.