A Hard Woman to Kill by Alex Howard

Author:Alex Howard [Howard, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Crime, Mystery & Detective, General
ISBN: 9781784971090
Google: jRyEjgEACAAJ
Publisher: Head of Zeus
Published: 2016-04-06T16:00:00+00:00

19

Arkady Belanov’s mobile rang. It was Dimitri.

‘Mitya has the policeman under control now,’ said Arkady to Myasnikov. ‘What do you want doing with him?’ He knew, but he wanted confirmation.

Myasnikov raised surprised eyebrows. ‘I thought we’d agreed we’d take him to that warehouse in Slough. I certainly don’t want him here and the farm isn’t ready yet. We’re still waiting for the Yusopovs. I want this place to look as innocent as possible just in case his colleagues come looking for him.’

He shook his head at the stupidity of his subordinates.

‘And remind all the girls here of what will happen to them if they speak to the police. You did film cutting off that scum’s head.’ Arkady nodded. Myasnikov said, ‘Show them that. When we kill the policeman, record that too. Let them know no one is above my law.’

Arkady picked up his landline phone and issued the relevant instructions to the Yusopov twins. They’d pick up Dimitri and the girl and drive them and Enver to the trading estate.

‘And the girl, Arkasha?’ asked Dimitri, still on the mobile. Arkady looked at Myasnikov. Myasnikov considered the question; it was a pleasing one. He felt like the emperor in a Roman amphitheatre. He had the power of life or death. Thumbs up or thumbs down. It was a great feeling, known only to a select few.

‘Is she trouble?’ he asked. Arkady relayed the question. Dimitri, a few miles away on the other side of Oxford, looked at the hunched figure of Chantal, sitting on the bed staring bleakly into space, meekly awaiting whatever fate had in store for her.

‘No.’

Thumbs up then, thought Myasnikov. The emperor had exercised his power. In the Circus Maximus the crowds cheered, applauding his magnanimity. Soon, however, they would see his other side. They needed to question Enver before they got rid of him; they’d let her watch. After that there would be no doubt that she would do what she was told, and he could take her to Moscow and sell her. She was near the airport; they might as well make use of it. He’d fly her to Poland and drive her in that way, save messing around with visas. He knew people at a border crossing there; it would be easy.

She would have novelty value, a genuine British whore. Nobody liked the British, so the chance to defile at least one of them would make her very marketable. After she’d seen what they would do to the policeman she would beg to serve them.

A shame for the politseyskiy that when the quietus came he wouldn’t be allowed the luxury of what the defeated and condemned-to-die gladiator used to do, to wrap his face in his cloak to hide his death agony.

Although when the time came, the politseyskiy would be begging for death, that was for sure. He would oversee it personally. He didn’t like getting his hands dirty, but he liked to watch.

Another barrel for the policeman, then make arrangements for their disposal. So much to do in such a limited time.

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