Page 44 of The Beast of Moscow

“Paid, collected, and delivered from every brigadier in the country in lots of time, as always. The accountant has also taken control of all of the accounts Nico was funneling into for the brotherhood. Which means, it’s about time for a body to wash up in the canal.”

Vaslav grunted under his breath at that, offering nothing more.

Igor knew what he had to do.

Once every bank account across the world that Nico had been using to hide the organization’s money was back under Vaslav’s control, they had no reasonable reason to hide the fact that the man was dead—and had been for a while. He’d show up in the canal, wrapped in garbage bags and duct tape, but it would be too late for anyone to take what the man had left.

It would already be gone.

Back in the hands of the man who owned it.

“Speaking of Nico,” Vaslav said, his words gravelling from the lingering pain.

“On that side of things, yeah,” the man continued, not needing further direction from his boss, “Feliks has continued his daily life and business as usual. He’s not mentioned to anyone that he’s recently had no contact with your sovietnik, and he’s gone about his days as he does.”

“Another body that needs to wash up.”

“Let me know when,” Igor replied.

“If I even want him found.”

“Well, dealer’s choice.”

“Hmm.”

“What?” Igor asked.

“How is the ballerina?”

Five seconds passed.

Vaslav counted each one.

“I was not aware I should be checking in on her,” his head of security admitted. “And with the added pile of shit from Nico, frankly, I haven’t had the time.”

He appreciated the honesty.

All the same ...

“Make time,” Vaslav uttered. “She’s useful. Look at who she is, Igor.”

“I have, and yes, her father has business with the fuck in Palermo, but—”

“If I had time to go through the information you provided about her enough to find the connections she has and how we could leverage them if needed, then so should you. You’re going to have to be better about these things. I can’t always fill in the blanks.”

“Boss?”

Why did the man sound confused?

“Did I stutter?”

“Well, no.”

Vaslav waved a finger over his head, not bothering to take the facecloth away so he could see Igor when he added, “Hell, maybe she’d even like to go to Paris—I do like to have a leg up when I can. Ask her.”

“Might that be something you should ask her yourself?”

“Except you’re going to do it for me.”