Adrian went back to drying his hair. “My sister’s entire life since the age of fifteen was about protecting me. She was more of a mother than my mother ever was.”
Gavra unbuttoned his shirt. “I need a shower, too.”
“Water’s hot,” Adrian said as he unfolded the newspaper and began to read.
Under the water, he worked again through all the details of the sister who had protected her brother since the age of fifteen. He pictured young Adrian and his pretty sister living in a clapboard house full of fear and pain.
“Listen to this,” Adrian said from the other side of the curtain.
“What?”
He read from the newspaper. “Last Saturday’s speech at the Interpol International Conference on Crime and Cooperation in Istanbul by Swedish delegate Roland Adelsvard continues to send ripples through the international arena. Adelsvard accused Soviet Bloc countries of funding terrorist cells throughout Western Europe and America in order to disrupt the functions of democratic nations. Of particular focus was General Secretary Tomiak Pankov of-” He stopped. “Are you listening?”
“Yeah,” said Gavra as the water cooled over his skin. When Adrian continued reading, though, he stopped listening. The Swede was talking about what everyone in the Ministry knew but chose not to discuss, because no one wanted to know. Room 305. Disruption Services.
“Amazing, huh?” said Adrian.
“Yeah,” Gavra repeated.
By the time he turned off the water and wrapped the hotel towel around himself, something had occurred to him. He dripped all over the carpet when he came out to find Adrian stretched out under the sheets, the paper turned to the sports page. Gavra said, “It was you.”
“What was me?”
“Your parents. They didn’t kill themselves, did they? You did it, and your sister spent her life protecting you.”
Adrian raised himself on his elbows and cocked his head. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Adrian slid back down, sighed, and spoke to the ceiling. “At first, she believed she had done it. She really did. She believed that she had influenced me to kill them. Unconsciously or consciously, it didn’t matter. But that’s not true. I did what I felt was necessary. And she did what she thought was necessary as well. She allowed herself to be taken away. A saint, like I keep telling you.”
“But you were…what? Eleven?”
“Thirteen.”
“And you…?”
“They had passed out in the backyard, okay? Passed out drunk. I just made it look like they’d done it to themselves.”
Gavra sat on the bed beside Adrian’s feet. “You hid it from me.”
“I was supposed to hide it. For the moment, at least. I really wish you hadn’t figured it out.”
“Why not?”
Adrian shrugged at the ceiling lamp. “I must have said too much. You weren’t supposed to find out.”
“Why?”
He sat up, staring past Gavra at the mirror on the wall. “But I didn’t say too much.” He looked at Gavra, his features twisted. “That was a guess, wasn’t it?”
“A hunch.”
“I can’t believe it,” he said, frowning. “She was wrong. Which means…” He started rubbing his ear. “The plane.”
Gavra stood again. He wished this man-this childhood murderer-would make sense. “What about the plane?”
Adrian peered at his reflection. “It’s possible…possible, mind you…that she made a mistake on the plane. I’d never considered that. Which would explain why it…”
“Blew up.”
Adrian nodded. “Do you see what I mean? There’s so much for her to keep track of. So many people, variables…so many unforeseen chance events. The brain isn’t wired for that.” He lay down again. “And now this. Our parents. You were not supposed to find out yet. We were supposed to have more time.”
This was enough. Gavra climbed on the bed and pinned Adrian down. Their faces were very close. “Stop speaking in riddles.”
“Kiss me first.”
Gavra did so. “Now tell me why I shouldn’t know about your parents. What difference does it make now? You’re not going to jail for it.”
Adrian cleared his throat. “Because, my dear, I am a murderer. And that knowledge will change everything for you. Not yet, no, but soon. The love you feel for me-and if she was right, it is love-will crumble.” He paused. “Before this moment, I was elusive, a mystery to you. But that allure will start to fade, and you’ll begin to wonder why you’ve thrown away your life, and your good career, for a simple butcher like me.” He swallowed, blinking. “You’ll think back. You’ll start to imagine me, as a child, murdering my parents. And you have a good imagination. You’ll wonder what kind of creature could do such a thing and then live his life as if nothing had happened. I won’t be a mystery anymore; I’ll be a monster.” He swallowed again, a sound like choking, then whispered, “And then, my dear, you’ll do what you were ordered to do by Brano Sev. You’ll kill me.”
“No,” said Gavra, because that was unimaginable. He kissed Adrian’s forehead. “I’d never kill you.”
Adrian smiled. “We can hope she’s wrong about that, too, can’t we?”
They kissed, and neither was surprised when Gavra’s tears dripped onto Adrian’s cheeks.
“It’s all right,” said Zrinka’s brother. “Really it is. By that time we’ll have had a good run, such a good run. You’ll have enough memories to last you a lifetime. Because in the end, a life doesn’t require so many, does it?”
Zrinka
The details. The details. If only I’d let that fat guard rape me, then we wouldn’t be here. But my reaction was a reflex, as with any woman, and I told Petrov that I knew about Sasha, that we all knew that he had fondled his son years ago. He believed no one knew about that. But I did. I know everything.
That’s not pride talking.
As Jirair walks me to the cockpit I work back over the details. I’ve called the hotel and Adrian, yes, I’ve told him everything. That side is taken care of. If he follows the instructions- if — then my brother will be free. He’ll be liberated. And Gavra will remember that he once loved a beautiful man who slipped away in the night. Like names on a list, I can see them all so clearly that it cannot be wrong. Peter Husak, the easiest of all to control-the liars always are-will lie dead in his hotel. A kind of liberation as well. He will get what he deserves from the person he deserves it from-Katja Drdova-and in the process save my brother. She will save herself as well.
And this militiaman, Libarid-a good choice. A frightened man will do nothing, will sit and remain calm and make no trouble because he wants his own liberation too much. He wants the peace of solitude and many many women. But the hatred-the family history in Turkey-how did I not see that? No, it won’t change a thing. He’s just right, so at the cockpit door I give him a smile and mouth It’s okay, just to let him know he’s the right one for me.
And we’re inside.
“What is this?” says Emin in his own language, turning from the radio and ending contact with the ground.
Oh, the fear is everywhere. Emin is covered in it, poor man. This will sicken him. This act. Afterward he will no longer trust himself, and he will land smoothly at Ataturk International and give himself and his men up. After a childhood like his, and then killing a woman like me, everything will be undermined. I hate myself, he will say, just
