Stolen Souls

29

STRAZDAS SAT QUITE still while he waited for Rainey to return. He closed his eyes and listened to the blood in his ears. It did not drown out the voice of his mother’s hate. A movement of air and the hissing of expensive soles on thick carpet stirred him.

“You’ll have to be careful,” the lawyer said as he closed the door. “Anything else happens, you’ll be in the firing line.”

“It’s under control,” Strazdas said.

He did not like lawyers, but they were an essential part of doing business. Particularly at times like these.

“Under control?” Rainey snorted. “Four dead, he told me. You said to me there was only your brother and the two that did for him. Arturas, my friend, you pay well, but not well enough to stand that kind of heat.”

Strazdas said, “Then I’ll pay you more.”

“I’m not a criminal lawyer, for a start.” Rainey sat down in the armchair opposite. “Patsy Toner would’ve been your man for this sort of thing, but he’s dead now. If I were you, I’d be on the first flight back to Brussels, get out of the spotlight, lie low for a while.”

“You’re the second person to tell me that today,” Strazdas said. “But I’m staying here until the job is done.”

Rainey sat forward in his chair. “Until what job is done?” Before Strazdas could answer, he held a hand up and said, “No, don’t tell me.”

The lawyer reached into his pocket and took out a small glass vial filled with white powder. A tiny silver spoon was attached to it by a fine chain.

He asked, “Do you mind? To settle my nerves.”

Strazdas licked his lips and sniffed. “I don’t mind at all,” he said.