“Where’s the location of the ledger?” I asked him.
He mentioned a college in the city. “I hid it in the library, where no one would think to look.”
With a calm, yet menacing tone, I growled, “You hid my ledger in a college library?”
“I swear, it’s safe,” he said, his voice laced with fear and desperation. “No one will ever think to find it there.”
“Bullshit,” Konstantin chipped in, his voice deep and raucous. “What about the people you sold it to?”
He went silent, shifting his gaze across the two of us. “I was never going to sell them the ledger. The plan was to double-cross them at the last minute.”
Silence.
“I swear on my mother’s grave.” He spat out blood. “I hid the original copy because I was going to sell them a fake one.”
After a moment of hesitation, I stretched out my hand, and Konstantin placed a pistol in my palm. Bogdan seemed to be telling the truth, but then again, he’d crossed a line.
I cocked the Glock and aimed it at his face. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow your brains out.”
“I can be of help,” he answered. “They don’t know that I’ve been caught. I can use that to our advantage.”
I thought about it for a second.
That might not be such a bad idea after all. Those sick fucks didn’t have the slightest clue that the game had changed. So, instead of killing him, I could flip the switch and have him spy on them for me.
He breathed a heavy sigh of relief after I lowered my gun.
“You will go ahead and sell them the fake ledger,” I said, staring right at him. “And foryoursake, you better pray that they buy it.”
His head dropped, his chin resting on his heaving chest. He was lucky I still found him useful; otherwise, he’d already be a corpse.
I turned to Konstantin. “Retrieve the ledger.”
He nodded.
I tucked my pistol back into my pants and walked away in silence.
***
The next morning, I was in my office, standing by the floor-to-ceiling window with a hand in my pocket. My gaze was overlooking the cityscape below as I dragged on my Cuban cigar, the smoke curling around my face.
The air was filled with the sweet aroma of brandy mixed with the scent of old paper and expensive leather.
I stood by the window, watching the sun rise over the horizon, its golden glow spreading across the concrete landscape. In the distance, the faint wail of sirens drifted through the air, a reminder that the city never truly sleeps.
The door opened behind me, and a set of familiar footsteps approached.
“Boss,” Konstantin called quietly.
I let out a puff of smoke and turned around to face him. He was holding a tablet in one hand and the ledger in the other.
“Retrieved.” He set the book on my table.
I didn’t speak a word.
“There’s something else,” he said.
My silence was his cue.