Invisible Murder

ÁNDOR WAS STARING so hard at the can dangling between them that his eyes were starting to water. He kept his breathing slow and deliberate, focusing on holding the handle horizontal, completely horizontal, with no wobbling. Afterward he realized that the whole time it took to raise the can into the van and lower it down into the concrete pipe, he hadn’t heard a single sound other than that of his own heartbeat. All his concentration, all his senses, were focused on that one, simple task.

“Nice,” Tommi said waving the pistol. “Now the pavers.”

They were perfectly standard garden pavers, sixty by sixty centimeters. Sándor couldn’t grip the thick, rough edge of the square, concrete slabs with his injured hand, but he was forced to use it for support and balance. There was no way Nina would be able to lift the pavers alone. She looked like she was holding herself upright through sheer will power.

They moved the two slabs into place on top of the pipe section. Tommi inspected their work and apparently found it satisfactory. At any rate, he gave Sándor a pat of comaraderie on the shoulder with his gloved hand.

“Cool,” he said. “Now you two hop in there, and keep it company. How do you say ‘car’ in Hungarian?”

The Finn’s strange interest in Hungarian vocabulary no longer surprised Sándor. “Autó,” he said in a monotone.

Tommi lit up behind the see-through plastic of his mask. “Hey,” he said. “That’s the same in Finnish. So it’s true after all.”

“What is?” Frederik said irritated. “What’s true?”

“That Finnish and Hungarian are related. The Finno-Ugric language family and all that stuff.”

Frederik glanced at the cement pipe in the back of the van. “You don’t think you could concentrate just a little on what’s important here?”

“There’s nothing wrong with expanding your horizons.”

“For fuck’s sake, Tommi. The word ‘auto’ doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with Finnish or Hungarian. It’s from Latin. Get those two into the van so we can get going.”

Tommi squinted. “You heard what the man said. Get in!”

The gun was pointed vaguely in their direction, but there was nothing vague about the look on the Finn’s face. It radiated a clear-as-glass intensity even through the cheap plastic of the face mask. Nina clambered in without protest and shot Sándor a look that clearly said: No drama. Don’t risk my daughter’s life.

He wasn’t so sure anymore that obedience and a low profile were their best survival strategy, but he didn’t see any other options. The rear doors slammed shut with a hollow claaaang, and a moment later the van started moving.

“Where are we going?” Sándor asked Nina. “Do you know?”

She shook her head. He could only just see her. Not much light made it in through the small window between the back of the van and the driver’s cabin.

“I heard the address,” she said. “I just don’t know where it is. Somewhere in Copenhagen, I think.”

“To meet with some filthy rich sicko who wants to buy radioactive material,” he said, not quite able to take his eyes off the makeshift cement container hiding the poisonous shit that had killed Tamás. “Nina, can we let them do it? How many people are going to end up dying the way Tamás did?”

She lowered her head so he could only see her dark hair. “Ida” was all she said. “I can’t think about anything else or anybody else.”

The van rattled its way up over some small obstacle, turned sharply to the right, and continued more smoothly. They were heading toward the city.