Nikki hesitated. As they’d been talking, details of the Kovak case came back to her. The terrible injuries that Kelsey James had sustained, leaving his face unrecognizable, even to his own family. What Johnson’s friend had done was the act of an animal, a savage beast. No ‘decent man’ could have done that, not under any circumstances. And Kovak’s record had shown a history of racially motivated incidents, with a string of alleged assaults on black victims dating back years, well before his wife’s death.
‘I’m sorry,’ she looked down at her hands. ‘I can’t do what you’re asking.’
‘Hmmm. I thought you might say that.’ To her surprise, Johnson sounded disappointed rather than furious. ‘Well, in that case, I guess I can’t share the FBI file on your husband’s mistress I just got me a copy of. Pregnant mistress, I should say. Something else you decided in your wisdom not to share with us. Ah well. That’s too bad.’
Dropping a twenty on the table, he stood up to leave.
‘Wait!’ Nikki called after him.
He kept walking.
‘Detective Johnson! Hold on, please.’
He stopped and turned, smiling.
‘What happened, Doc?’ he asked mockingly. ‘Things suddenly get a little grayer, did they?’
He’d got her over a barrel and they both knew it. Nikki didn’t know whether to be angry or to laugh. In the end, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she chose the latter.
‘All right,’ she said. ‘You win. I’ll come to the parole hearing.’
‘And put in a good word for him? An unequivocal good word?’
It was wrong. But everybody had their price. The truth was Nikki would have sold her soul to know who Lenka Gordievski really was, and how she’d gotten her claws into Doug.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Now, please, show me what you have.’
Ten minutes later, a desolate Nikki looked up at Mick Johnson.
‘This doesn’t tell me anything.’
While she’d been reading the file on Lenka, he’d ordered himself a second stack of pancakes from the still-peeved waitress, and was two thirds of the way through them when Nikki spoke.
‘I’d say it tells you plenty,’ he said, dabbing syrup from the sides of his mouth with a napkin and swallowing his current mouthful. ‘Lenka was the go-between who helped Luis Rodriguez import his initial batches of Krokodil from Moscow. She’d changed her name to Gordievski five years earlier, after she turned state’s witness on one of the St Petersburg cartels. That’s why your friend Williams couldn’t find any history. Before that she went by Natalia Driskov.’
‘I don’t care about her name!’ Nikki said, exasperated. ‘I care about her relationship with my husband.’
‘It’s all connected, honey,’ said Johnson, not unkindly. ‘Lenka introduced Rodriguez to her network of suppliers and drug runners back in Russia. She was already living in LA and familiar with the networks on the ground here. I’m guessing she was well compensated, but that was always a dangerous game to play. The Russian gangs wouldn’t have appreciated anyone bringing one of the Mexican cartels onto their turf.’
‘So you think the Russians murdered her?’ asked Nikki. ‘By tampering with the computer on Doug’s car? He was collateral damage, is that what you’re saying?’
Johnson shrugged. ‘You’ve read the report, same as I have. Yes, I think your husband was definitely collateral damage. But I don’t believe the Russians were behind that crash. I’d say it was Rodriguez.’
Nikki frowned, confused.
‘But … if Lenka worked for Rodriguez …?’
‘She’d outlived her usefulness,’ said Johnson. ‘Like Willie Baden. And you saw with your own eyes what happened to him.’
Nikki shivered.
‘By the beginning of last year, Rodriguez’s crew already owned the Krok market on the West Coast,’ said Johnson. ‘With Goodman’s help, he’d effectively driven the Russians out and he was producing his own shit, down in Mexico City. He already had huge facilities down there for processing coke. Charlotte Clancy found out about those years ago, which was why she got whacked. All Luis had to do was re-fit that operation, turn it into giant Krok labs. After that he didn’t need Lenka any more. You wanna know what my theory is, about her and your husband?’
‘Sure,’ Nikki said wearily.
‘I think this woman knew she was on borrowed time with Rodriguez. So she tried to make herself useful to him in other ways. That was where your old man came in. She offered to get close to him, in hopes of pumping him for information about you and your patients. She had Haddon Defoe introduce the two of them, and the thing went from there. After all, by that point you were treating Carter Berkeley, one of his key money men in LA and witness to Charlotte Clancy’s murder. I reckon the affair with your husband was Lenka’s last-ditch attempt to keep herself relevant to Rodriguez. Relevant and alive. Not such a great plan, as it turned out.’
Nikki gazed blankly out of the window. So it was my fault? Lenka targeted Doug to get at me? After what felt like an age, she turned back to look at Johnson.