He may be the elder here in terms of age and experience. But I’m a don just as much as he is. He has a fine line to walk.
The fact that he’s called me at all tells me he’s worried that the trouble brewing in the underworld is going to come to a head. He wants to be prepared.
That makes two of us.
“I could give you the answer you want to hear, Anton,” Rodion demurs. “But I’d rather be honest. Marina came to see me days before her body was discovered.”
I tense. “And?”
“She told me about the state of your marriage. She told me about the baby.”
Anger courses through me, thick and unyielding. It rivals the regret I feel when I think about the innocent life that was lost in the midst of all the chaos.
“That was an unfortunate accident, Rodion,” I say. “But… it happens. It happens all the time.”
“She blamed you.”
“I know she did,” I admit.
“Losing the child destroyed her,” Rodion continues. “I saw the look in her eyes. She was distraught.”
“Distraught enough to drive her to suicide,” I suggest. “It makes sense.”
“Does it?” Rodion ponders. “Or is it simply a convenient alibi?”
I wait for him to accuse me, but he doesn’t. He stops just short of it, trying to tamp down his anger and remain businesslike. I wonder how much longer that restraint will last.
“It is not good for our enemies to think we’re divided, Anton,” he says, breaking the pregnant silence.
“I agree.”
“We must meet soon. Hash this out.”
Hash this out. The words are significant, and I don’t miss the weight they hold. “Of course, Rodion. I think that’s a good idea. I will set something up and let you know. I want nothing more than to put all this behind us.”
He doesn’t answer immediately. When he does, he sounds wary. “Take care of yourself, Anton.”
But I can read between the lines. It is a talent I developed at an early age, when I realized that my father was a dangerous man who liked to speak in violent riddles.
Watch your back. That’s what he’s really saying to me.
The moment I hang up, Lev leans in. “Well?”
“He’s trying to act like all this trouble brewing isn’t coming from him.”
Lev scoffs. “Bull-fuckin’-shit.”
I nod. “But insofar as we can get him to the table, we need to play along with that narrative.”
“He wants to meet?” Lev asks.
“Yes.”
“And you trust that he’s not going to open fire when you show up?”
“I’m handling the meeting arrangements.”
Lev’s eyes go wide. “And he agreed to that? Well, I’ll be damned.”