CHAPTER 28. FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 3, 09:30.
Maiorescu sat in his office, his chair swivelled to face the window. The sounds of traffic filtered up from below. Caramarin waited until his boss had finished on his cell. He closed the call.
"I think we should go easy for a bit, boss," said Caramarin. "The Militsia suspect we're involved with that girl's death and they're gonna be watching us for a while."
"You losing your nerve, Nicolae? You going soft on me?"
"Not at all. But we had a good thing going before we got involved with this Abkhazian crew and people smuggling. You remember I said no good would come of it."
"I'm not letting this go, capisce? That bastard tried to drop us in it. He wants war, he can have it."
"That wise? Like I say, the Militsia are gonna be all over us."
"Cost me a bit in bribes. Trouble is, gotta bit of a cash flow problem now. But the people smuggling is way too lucrative to let go. In a way, that bastard Ozgan did us a favour, opening my eyes to the possibilities."
"I don't like it, boss."
Maiorescu stubbed out his cig, then lit up another. Carried on like Caramarin hadn't spoken.
"I just need to build up my own contacts in the east, arrange for them to send us some likely girls. Then we're sorted. Easy money."
"But..."
"But in the meantime, let's take the war to Ozgan and his Abkhazians. I know you're tired. Look, here's a bit of money, why don't you take the rest of the day off. I'll catch you tomorrow."
As Caramarin left, he heard Maiorescu calling Litovchenko. There was a man who was always up for violence whatever the reason. Or without any reason.
As he crossed the hot car park to his Opel Combo, Caramarin was deep in thought. Only one possible way he could think of to stop this shit storm blowing up in all their faces. And that was doubtful. He dialled Natalya and asked her to meet him in town.
Caramarin stopped by his apartment in Moldavanka and changed into his suit. Splashed on some cologne then headed uptown. He bought some flowers and gave them to his old landlady as thanks for her alibi and any hassle she'd had from Sergeant Grodzyk.
He waited for Natalya in a rear banquette of a chic restaurant just off Prymorsky Boulevard. Heard the place was going for a Michelin star. The dark panelled back room was mostly empty; nearly all the lunchtime customers were out on the street side tables enjoying the sunshine and fresh air. Not his sort of place but it was discreet and out of the way.
Checked his cell for messages and read the local paper. Chornomorets Odessa F.C.'s latest defeat took up the back pages. The front pages were dominated by the mutilated girl's discovery last night. Photos of the warehouse and one very pixellated image of the crime scene. No name had yet been released but a gangland connection was mentioned.
There was speculation about a feud between gangs. No prizes for guessing where that information had come from. He turned to the editorial. The usual demands for the Militsia to clamp down on the gangsters ruining the city and that the crime rate was out of control. He tucked the paper away as Natalya came in.
It was like she brought the sunshine in with her. The light from the doorway shone off her blonde hair and lit up her short, white Versace dress. It was like a candle in the dim light. She lifted up her shades and smiled, then dropped them in her clutch bag.
The waiters stopped what they were doing and stared. The manager stepped up and showed her over to Caramarin's table. The man was either a chutney ferret, or just very well trained – he didn't look once down her front. Unlike every man she passed.
Caramarin stood and kissed her on the cheeks. The manager tucked in her chair and passed over her napkin. Caramarin ordered wine and looked over the menu. He ordered mussels in garlic to start. Natalya raised her eyebrows.
"Garlic? Bit of a passion killer?" she said.
"Sorry. Didn't think. But to be honest, passion's not on my mind, at the moment."
"I dressed up special for you. Look." She wriggled her boobs at him.
"You look gorgeous. Appreciate it. But I need to speak to you."
"You could try and show more enthusiasm," she pouted.
They ate their mussels. He could feel her eyes burning questions at him. He waited until there was nobody in earshot.
"Listen, I hope I'm not speaking out of turn but you need to have a word with Eugen."
"Why?" she asked. "I can't leave him for you. At least not until after he trades me in for a younger model." She smiled sadly.
"No, no, not that," he stammered. "He's looking to start a gang war, the way he's going. The Militsia guess he's involved in people smuggling now so if he starts anything there's going to be a lot of heat coming his way."
She shrugged.
Caramarin was never sure just how much Natalya knew, or suspected, about her husband's activities. Maybe she just grabbed the good things in life without worrying about where they came from. But the woman wasn't stupid. If he had any chance of heading off Maiorescu, he had to lay everything out for her.
"Did he say anything to you about the girl's body last night?"
"No! What body?"
"Keep your voice down," he whispered.
The trolley with the main course came. The chef opened the silver dome on the trolley with a flourish. A rack of lamb with potatoes and raspberry jus. The chef served it, bowed and wheeled the trolley away. The wine waiter poured burgundy into crystal glasses. Caramarin toasted Natalya.
When Caramarin was sure nobody was taking notice of them, apart from those furtive glances at Natalya's boobs, he passed her the paper.
"Sorry, what's last night's game got to do with me?"
"The front page."
She read the article, her upper lip curling with horror and disgust, showing her teeth.
"You saying that Eugen did that?"
"No, I think an Abkhazian gang killed her then tried to frame us with her murder. But Eugen's going to start a war. Fair enough, but not at the moment."
"And you want me to tell him that?"
"He's not listening to me much any more. He's more into consulting that psycho, Litovchenko, now."
Natalya shuddered.
"That man gives me the creeps," she said.
"He should."
They ate their lamb. Fully deserved a Michelin star in his opinion.
Natalya leaned forward, giving Caramarin a great view of her boobs. Her dress had slipped down slightly, revealing part of her lacy brassiere.
"Not like you. You give me the shivers.
"Nice shivers down there."