“Me and my cousin, Leo.”
“Was he the one at the club who helped you with the injured guy?”
“Yes, that was Leo.”
“When you say you didn’t kill Arnaud, does that mean you didn’t buy the coke from him?”
“We never bought anything from the cop.”
“But you went to Sacramento to buy coke.”
“Sometimes. To buy drugs from Danny Weiss. Not from cop.”
“Then who did Yavorsky send to meet Arnaud?”
Yavorsky’s name seemed to surprise him. Or scare him. “If you know Yavorsky, you know I cannot tell you that.” It was a cool evening, but he was starting to sweat. He wiped his forehead with the palm of his hand. “I cannot discuss this.” The guy was genuinely distraught. He started to run his hands through his hair, but stopped midway, his hands clasping his head like he was trying to prevent it from opening.
“Are you afraid of Yavorsky?” I asked.
Levko laughed, but not because he thought it was funny. “If you are not afraid of him, it is because you don’t know him. He has many powerful friends, here and in Ukraine. Bad men, like him. We, me and Leo, we have family in Ukraine. If we cross Yavorsky, he will hurt our family.”
The odd thing was, I could see he wanted to talk, to get it all out. He just wasn’t sure it was me he wanted to tell. The circumstances of his life had trapped him in a situation not at all to his liking, but he didn’t know if I was a way out of the trap, or if I would only get him more deeply ensnared.
“I know you’re in a tough spot, Levko. You don’t want to do anything that will put your family in danger. I understand that. But you’re going to have to tell us more.”
“We are not criminals,” he said again. “Leo is good man. He is studying at University to be engineer. He works part time at Satellite, as bouncer. He is big, like me, but nice guy. He is not killer. Yavorsky has someone else do his killing.”
“This someone else is who he sent to meet Arnaud?”
He looked at Mio again, who still had not moved. “She is making me very nervous.”
When he said this, Mio folded her arms across her chest, turned and leaned her back against the door of his car, then proceeded to examine one her shoes.
“Who killed Arnaud, Levko?”
“His name is Nikolai Beketov. He is ex-Soviet Army. Very bad. Very dangerous.”
“Does he live here in San Francisco?”
“No. He is gone. Back to Ukraine. He only comes to States when Yavorsky calls him.”
“Why did Yavorsky want Arnaud killed? That’s a lot of bother and expense to bring this guy all the way from Ukraine.”
“I am not positive,” he said, sighing like an exhausted bear.
“None of this will get back to Yavorsky, Levko. Just tell me what happened.”
“A year or so ago, this guy, Arnaud, he came to Satellite with picture of young girl, asking people, employees and customers, did they know her. He showed me picture. He said girl was his niece and he was trying to find her.”
“And you recognized her from somewhere?”
“Yes. Yavorsky sells young girls. Boys, too, sometimes. But mostly girls. They are taken to Mexico, then to Middle East somewhere, I think. Or maybe India. I am not sure. But sometimes they are delivered to guy here, in California. He lives in mountains, near Pollock Pines. The girl in picture, she was delivered to Pines Guy. That’s what I call him, Pines Guy.”
“How do you know? Did you and your cousin deliver her?”
“Not Leo. He knows nothing about this. I delivered girl.”
He looked like he was going to start crying. “So after Arnaud showed you the girl’s photo, what happened?”
“I told Yavorsky. I think he told Pines Guy. After that, I am not sure. Maybe Pines Guy paid Yavorsky to kill cop. Or maybe Yavorsky did it on his own. But Beketov was here, in San Francisco.”
It was all starting to make a certain twisted sense. “What about this Pines Guy?” I asked.
“I don’t know anything about him. I don’t even know his name. He is just Pines Guy. He must be rich, I think, to buy girls. And he has big house.”
“How many girls have you delivered there?” I asked.
He didn’t have to think to answer. His conscience had been keeping track. “Five.”
“Over how long a period?”
“About two years.”
“Have you ever seen any of them again, after you delivered them? Did you see any of the first girls when you delivered the later ones?”
“Never. I always make deliveries late at night. House is always dark. I only saw Pines Guy.”
Arnaud probably didn’t have any idea what happened to his niece. His snooping around just made these guys nervous enough to have him disposed of. It didn’t sound good for the girl. Levko’s head was jerking back and forth again between Mio and me.
“Levko, do you have regular days off?”
“I am off Monday and Tuesday,” he answered, as affably as if he thought I might invite him bowling.
“Good. Here’s what I’d like you to do. This coming Monday evening, the day after tomorrow, I want you to drive to Sacramento and pick me up at 9:00 p.m. at the Hyatt Regency. It’s across the street from the capitol. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes, I know.”
“We’ll take a little drive and you can show me where this Pines Guy lives.”
Levko forced his hands into his pants pockets and started shaking his head. He looked like a sullen, recalcitrant teenager. “I am sorry, but I won’t go near Pines Guy.”
“I just want you to show me where his house is. That’s all. After that, you can drive me back to Sacramento and I’ll leave you alone.”
I waited while he thought about it, but he was taking too long.
“I’m making it easy for you, Levko. This way, Yavorsky and Beketov are left out of it.”
“I will show you,” he said, after another bear sigh.
It was a
