Chapter 55
“You killed my cousin.”
She had been waiting for this moment forever. Jane continued to lean against the wall. Casimir wouldn’t make her death easy with a simple bullet. He’d want it to hurt.
“Me? No. I fought him, yes. But someone else shot him. He and I had knives, not guns. I heard that August Kaminski sent someone to shoot him.”
“Liar.”
“Why would I lie? I did my best to lure you to me. You came because you know I’m smart enough to offer a proper challenge. Victor wanted that too, and I indulged him. Even though he used a child as a shield.”
Casmir sighed and lowered the gun, but he’d shoot her if she moved. “My cousin liked to kill. Always did. He murdered his own parents. They were not good people, but he took joy in ending them. As he ended my parents. Also, not good people. For so long, it’s just been him and me.”
“You look tired.” Not a lie, he did. “Why don’t you turn yourself in? Victor’s gone. And supposedly, so is August Kaminski.”
He snorted. “You believe the lies?”
“Not really. No.”
“Good. Don’t. A bomb will not take out August Kaminski.”
“Can you answer something for me? I thought you worked for August. You were his number one guy. Why did you turn against him?”
“He turned against me. Against us.” Casimir tapped his chest with his gun.
“We had a common objective. To finally take out the oligarchies ruining the world. To give back to the people. You wouldn’t understand, you Americans who have everything.
But I grew up with nothing. So did August until he made something of himself.
We had a common ground. A plan to balance the scales. ”
“So what happened?”
He watched her carefully. When she only straightened up but didn’t move from the door, he answered, “August changed. I don’t know why. His ideals became all about material things. About power, women, cars. Not the greater good.”
“But Casimir, if you were for the greater good, why let your cousin kill innocent families?”
“Innocent? Please.”
“Okay, maybe the parents were guilty of some crimes. But the kids? Your brother chopped off a boy’s feet. A girl’s tongue. He cut a woman into square pieces of flesh and bone.”
Casimir shrugged. “Sacrifices have to be made, Agent Cannon. My cousin needed to bleed others to remain operational. So I gave him toys to play with. He broke them, as he does—did.” His eyes turned bleak. “Then he focused, and we prospered.”
She tucked her hands behind her back, against her waistband. You’re safe, Casimir, relax. “What was on those drives that he stole?”
Casimir grinned. “Ah, now that is a very good question. The Collective. They have many secrets. The ones who refused to stick to our grand vision, the original vision August had? Those I let Victor kill. But August wouldn’t be persuaded. So we took the secrets. We have much use for them.”
“What secrets?”
“Blackmail. Buried treasure. Drugs and vices you can’t imagine. The wealthy think they are above it all. They are not. And now they know.”
“What about the Scotts? That I can’t figure out. You didn’t have Victor kill them.”
He scowled. “There were reasons.”
“Is that why you killed Louis Miller?”
“What?” His smile creeped her out. She’d always thought Victor the psychotic member of the duo, but perhaps Casimir had his own share of psychopathy. “I didn’t kill him. Didn’t you see the notebook left for you? He named his killer—August Kaminski.”
“I’m not stupid, Casimir. I—” Jane ducked and threw the throwing knife that had been tucked at her back.
The blade stuck in Casimir’s cheek. With a shriek, he dropped the gun and clutched his face.
He ripped the blade out as Jane rushed him, tackling him to the floor.
They rolled, but Jane had no intention of letting the larger threat subdue her.
She jammed her thumbs in his eyes. When he tried to strangle her, she ripped his hands back by his thumbs, encouraged by his cries of pain.
So much death. Matthew, all those families, the poor maid, the senator’s aide. And Casimir knew what he was doing. Victor was crazy and had “needs.” But Casimir allowed all of it.
She broke his thumbs, stood in a hurry, then heel stomped his face, breaking his nose.
His breath whistled as he feebly clutched his gun. He must have found it while she’d been hurting him.
She fought him for it, shocked to find him still so strong.
Rage and skill fueled her. She ripped the gun from him and pumped a round into him before he could stab her with a hidden blade.
“Stay down,” she ordered. “FBI, you’re under arrest.”
The knife clattered to the floor, and she shoved it away.
“Too…late…” His breathing rasped, and she realized he had a punctured lung, the round to his gut higher than she’d thought.
Behind her, the front door opened. “You got him? About time.” Raine popped a bubble and continued chewing her gum. “I’ll call the cops.”
“Thanks.”
Jane had tasked her cousin to watch her house, having anticipated that Casimir would want to kill her in her private, safe space. So much more satisfying and personal to bleed her out at home.
While Raine called 9-1-1, Jane leaned in to hear Casimir murmuring.
One of his eyes had swelled, but the other remained clear. “Better than I expected, Jane Cannon. A true queen. I’m impressed.”
His chest rattled. He closed his eyes and died.
Jane stood, not sure how to feel.
Victor’s victims had finally been avenged.
Yet the job felt incomplete.
She felt incomplete.
She stared at Casimir. What a waste of a brilliant mind, lost to hate and envy.
Anger faded, as did her satisfaction.
All that remained was a growing numbness that only the next job could fill.