Page 30 of The Shadow Friends

“You, for instance.” Jo focused hard on Ingrid. “You’re the one who never loses her cool. Who wouldn’t normally be rattled by a dead body. At least, that’s the Ingrid Slocum I know.”

“You say you know me, but do you, really? Do you know any of us?”

Jo paused. The honest answer was no, she did not, even though they had assisted her during two different investigations this past year. She had come to rely on their canny insights, had been invited to more than a few of their potluck dinners, yet these people still seemed veiled in gauze; the view was never quite in focus. Their faces were always blurred, their smiles illusory.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” said Jo.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Usually you people are banging on my door, trying to insert yourselves into my investigations. I have a dead woman in the morgue, a woman who worked hard and saved her pennies and will now never get to spend them. I’m just trying to do right by her. If there’s something you know about her murder, something that can help us find the killer, don’t you think it’s your duty to share it?”

There was a long silence. Ingrid set down her drink and said quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“About what?”

“Before we share anything with you, there are things we need to confirm first.”

Jo looked at the others. It was like staring at a blank wall. “I’m not the enemy. I’m just trying to protect my town. It’s your town too. Tell me who I’m dealing with here.”

“We can’t tell you who, because we don’t know,” said Ingrid. “But we may know what you’re dealing with.”

“Go on.”

“The symbol that’s engraved in the stiletto handle? It could be just a random decoration. Or it could be something significant. A circle with a dot inside is one of the symbols used by the Vory. A symbol that they sometimes tattoo on their bodies, as well.”

“Who are they? The Vory?”

“They’re a Russian brotherhood of professional criminals. Their roots go back a century, when they organized inside Soviet prisons to form a sort of criminal syndicate, very much like the mob. They have their own rules, their own code of conduct, their own leadership pyramid. The Vory’s criminal enterprises have expanded around the world, and they’ve sunk their claws deep into Russian businesses and government. They’re also available for anyone to hire, should you need their particular skills. In fact, Moscow’s intelligence services are using the Vory more and more to outsource certain tasks.”

“What tasks?”

“Assassination, for one,” said Ben.

“They’re killers for hire?”

“They’re discreet. They’re ruthless. And they’re officially deniable,” said Ingrid. “Moscow’s own agents have had a few humiliating failures lately. It’s led to arrests and exposure and political blowback. You don’t want the whole world knowing an assassination was officially sanctioned. So they hire the Vory to do the job.”

“You think Karen O’Brien was killed by a Russian gangster?”

“We’re only saying the circle and dot engraved on the stiletto might be Vory. It’s their symbol for a lone wolf. It means ‘Rely only on yourself.’”

Jo gave a startled laugh. “This is Maine. Do you really think a Russian hit man is skulking around in our woods?”

“You asked us what we thought,” said Ben. “We gave you an answer.”

Declan’s phone rang, and he looked down at the display. “It’s Maggie. Excuse me,” he said, and walked into the house to take the call.

“The truth is,” said Ingrid, “we’re searching for answers ourselves. If you’re willing to share, Jo, we could use more information.”

“You never share anything with me.”

“We’re not asking for a lot,” said Lloyd. “Just detailed photos of the stiletto. Close-up images of the grip and the symbol. And, if you find one, the cutler’s stamp.”

“What will you give me in return?”

“You can have everything I’ve compiled about Karen O’Brien,” said Lloyd. “Her family, her employment history, every single traffic ticket she’s ever received. You can have the entire dossier.”

“You made a dossier on her?”