“Not yet,” Isaak says. “He might have a second one, but Chase thinks it’s more likely he’s staying low. But he’s watching it.”
I take a sip of my coffee. “I’m gonna need some help. One of the higher-ups, Denis, is running a number of different operations, so I don’t want to change that. There are a lot of different cogs outside here, so…”
“Business as usual?”
“I don’t want to make that look different. Things are already scaled back, which can’t have escaped notice, but there are always reasons for things like that,” I say. “I want to concentrate on finding these fuckers.”
“Didn’t you say there was a kid?”
I sigh. “If I trust him.”
“So do.” I can almost hear the shrug in his voice. “You’ll never know if you can or can’t if you don’t take a risk. Get him to help.”
After we hang up, I take my cup and pace the room.
Isaak’s right. Utilizing Elisei is a smart idea. Trust isn’t blind, or it shouldn’t be. I learned that bitter lesson with Melor.
I can lick my wounds and build barriers against everything, or I can learn. And as much as my natural inclination leads me to think I should have questioned the trust I placed in Melor, I know that’s pure hindsight speaking. Because I walked into a bratva handed to me by the previous pakhan. As his second, Melor’s job was to carry out his boss’s desires.
It wasn’t like I stormed in and took over.
Should I have been a little more reticent?
I don’t know.
Inside, perhaps. But that sort of thing shows. A transition of power was all it was meant to be. If Melor had been on the up and up, then any reticence from me could have had a worse effect.
Point is, there’s milk on the ground, and the only thing to do about it is to clean it up, not sit around and cry.
With Elisei, I can test the waters legitimately.
I call him and request his presence.
He doesn’t take long to respond or turn up.
“I’m trying to track Melor, gather intel on where he might be or those who know him. And I need help.”
I see it in his eyes, the light of opportunity, the eagerness to help prove himself.
“Yes, sir. I don’t mingle with him, or didn’t, but there are places you might not know about. Some of his contacts, perhaps.” He holds his breath, as though gauging if he’s overstepped.
When I don’t react, he goes on.
“We all have them, as I’m sure you know. People who might help, those who grease wheels or provide information.”
“I know how it works. If you have an idea of these people, go ahead.”
He frowns. “I’ve accompanied him on a few of the rounds. Most of us have. I can ask the others…?”
“Not yet. Just use the office in there.” I point to the open door where Melor’s office used to be. “I’ve looked on the computer, but if there’s anything, go ahead.”
As he does his job, I do other work, listening in. While he’s eager with me, he pulls the contrite soldier out of the bag for some, checking up on those who are waiting for us to collect, and being the cool, young up-and-comer in the ranks with others who are waiting for us to set up further meetings.
He makes notes, and as I reach to answer my phone, I think I may have made a good choice.
The phone call is a dead end, but I’m strangely buoyed. The air has a buzz as we work through the day, through the lunch that Svetlana serves, and through meetings I can’t avoid.
One is with Denis, who gives me an update and a nod of approval at Elisei working away. He wanders into Melor’s old office, picks up a notepad, turns, and grins at me.
