Chapter 17
An Introspective
In an upscale home in a quiet area of Seattle, Victor let himself into the house without needing a key. His cousin still refused to lock up after himself, of the mindset that no one could ever muster the temerity to invade their space.
Victor knew that leaving a home unlocked invited trouble. Even welcomed it.
Then again, perhaps that was what Casimir wanted. A new challenge to take his mind from the boring acquisitions they’d been ordered to make.
With a sigh, Victor went in search of what he considered the human machine that made the organization function as well as it did.
He found Casimir in front of the computer in the study.
Rich mahogany and hand-carved antique bookcases matched the regal desk and went well with the navy-blue paint darkening the room.
The antique books on the shelves mingled with treatises on war, financial tactics, and historical tomes about battles lost and won.
Frankly, Victor found it all incredibly boring.
He’d tried to read one of the tedious volumes while waiting on his cousin to finish business a few days ago.
Fortunately, the house had several televisions with all sorts of streaming and satellite programming, even several in his native language, which he found delightful.
He heard swearing and raised voices through the speakerphone, none of which belonged to Casimir. His cousin never swore, rarely raised his voice, and never seemed to get upset. He often grew irritated, mostly with Victor, but he never let it show except for the occasional sharpness in his tone.
Victor did his best to please Casimir. But sometimes circumstances couldn’t be avoided.
“I told you to keep a low profile, didn’t I?” The deep voice on the other end of the line sounded threatening. It made Victor uncomfortable. Something about that presence lingered long after communication with him ended.
“We have the information we need,” Casimir said calmly. “How we get it isn’t a big deal.”
“It is a big deal. The FBI and police are suddenly asking all kinds of questions about the Collective.”
“That was going to happen eventually.”
“Eventually. Not now! We could have flown under the radar longer if your psychotic cousin hadn’t gotten his rocks off slicing and dicing through whole families.”
“But not the dogs,” Victor added—unhelpfully, if his cousin’s flat expression was anything to go by. “They always say, do not kill the dog. So I do not.”
“I pay you to make problems go away,” the voice seethed. “Not to cause them.”
Casimir held up a finger when Victor would have responded.
Victor remained quiet.
Casimir sighed. “What’s done is done.”
“But it’s not. We need to finish what has been started. We can’t cool down until I have the Harte data. Once I have that, then maybe we can be finished, and your volatile cousin can savage some other children outside my city.”
Victor frowned. It wasn’t about the children. The boss should know that. Still, Victor remained quiet, warned by the look in Casimir’s pale gray eyes, eyes so like his own.
It had always pleased Victor to see how much he and his cousin looked alike. Their fathers were brothers whose children had always been close. More so once Casimir’s parents died, and he and Victor raised each other in the streets outside of Nidzica.
“I don’t think you realize what we’re doing and why,” Casimir said quietly.
“I don’t realize?” After a pause, the boss added, “Excuse me?”
“The whole reason you wanted this was to shake the status quo. To right great wrongs and show these stupid people that tyranny cannot prevail.”
The boss laughed, long and loud. “You can’t be serious? We’re in this to make money and take power. Period. Your pedantic ideologies aren’t welcome here, Casimir. Do what I tell you to do, and we won’t have a problem. Keep that dog you call family on a leash before I’m forced to put him down.”
“But—”
“And bring me the Harte files by the end of the week. Don’t make me ask a second time. No drama, no messy deaths. Just bring me the drives.”
The line went dead.
Casimir slowly disconnected and turned to stare at Victor, his eyes like ice, cold and empty. “You see what you did?”
Victor grew defensive. “I got what he wanted. Why does he care? The rich slobs deserved what they got.”
“Even the children?”
Victor frowned. “How can you say that? I saved them.” After a pause, he added, “Like I saved you.”
As expected, Casimir’s eyes clouded with memories, and Victor knew he’d won this round.
“I know you have certain…appetites, Victor. But this time, just get me the cold wallets and anything else you find in the safe from the Hartes. I’ve got the schematics for their security.
You can’t make a mess this time. We need to be very quiet about this one.
No one can know what we took except the Hartes. We know they won’t tell anyone.”
Victor shrugged.
Casimir grew quieter. Like the eye of the storm when he meant business. “No more bodies. Not from that house. Go find playthings elsewhere.”
“But you understand, cousin. You know. Yes?”
Casimir pinched the bridge of his nose.
“The parents are pigs who deserve to be butchered. But the children, I save them. And the dogs. So sweet and deserving.” Victor smiled. “I save them also, giving them new life.”
“Yes, yes. You’re everyone’s savior.”
Victor didn’t believe his cousin meant what he said. He started to get angry.
“Don’t argue. Please. It’s been a rough day.” Casimir paused. “I’m afraid our szef is not who he once promised to be. He’s lost his way, poisoned by the very capitalism he once decried as foul. This is no longer our home.”
Victor didn’t understand, exactly, but the pain on his cousin’s face alarmed him. Casimir often suffered from migraines, and the speed at which his brain could fix problems slowed. What was more troubling, though, was what Victor thought he heard.
“You want us to leave?” Their boss had a long arm and a reputation for promising both pain and punishment. Which used to please Victor, to work for someone with such clear purpose. Yet, Casimir didn’t seem to respect their boss anymore.
That was a problem.
Tentatively, which wasn’t like him, Victor asked, “You want I should kill him?” Excited at the thought, he added, “To skin him and show all the dirt beneath the clothing of lies?”
He hadn’t skinned anyone in quite a while.
“Not yet.”
That Casimir hadn’t outright told him no was encouraging. “But you’ll let me know when?”
“Yes. But I need to put a few plans in motion. The FBI is getting too close. We need to send a message.”
“Anything, cousin.” Finally. Casimir had decided to show a little backbone. He’d always been a loyal soldier. A loyal follower.
But Victor knew his cousin shouldn’t be following anyone. With a genius brain like Casimir’s, his cousin should be leading.
“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
His cousin’s smile made life worth living. “You are my blood, Victor. Always, we are family first.”
“Family first.” Victor thought longingly of the happy families he’d left around their dining tables, sharing food and togetherness.
The way a family should be. Not the way he and Casimir had been raised.
“Most importantly, we get the Harte data. No killing.”
“No, Casimir.” But the voice inside that spurred Victor to provide the salvation others called murder added, Maybe just a little killing. Someone no one would notice.
Casimir nodded. “Then we take care of a few loose ends. We need to give the FBI and the police something else to investigate. Something much closer to home.” He turned back to the computer. “Go have dinner with Papa and the others. Come back in an hour.”
Casmir would spend the next hour making plans on top of plans, lost in grand strategies.
So Victor went to join the family for dinner. He sat next to Mother and Older Brother, across from Younger Brother and close to Father, who occupied two seats. One for his head, the other for his body.
Victor had been kind enough to exsanguinate everyone in the master bathroom, letting the mess run down the drain. Only the husks of skin, desiccated muscle, and bone remained.
He shivered in the chill air, having increased the air conditioning to slow decomposition. Unfortunately, this family didn’t have a dog. He’d considered bringing Bubbles home with him after getting rid of Sherry and Old Mother, but Casimir had allergies.
So sad.
But then, family came first.
At the thought, he smiled. The boss had no idea who he was messing with if he thought he could order Casimir around and not pay the price. For so many years, his cousin had worked tirelessly to help build a new empire, content to hide in the shadows.
No matter how much August Kaminski thought he ruled the roost, Victor only ever had one boss, one szef—Casimir Bednarek.
The Rook.