23

Two Russians came for Kursk and bundled him into their car.

“Mother of God, Grigori Mikhailovich,” said the driver, “You stink like a Chechen shithouse. It’ll cost me a fortune to have the car cleaned.”

“Shut it, Dimitrov. I need painkillers. Strong ones. Now.”

“Of course, Grigori, whatever you say.”

They took Kursk to a cheap hotel. The owner was expecting them. He was a Russian. He would do as he was told and keep his mouth shut. Dimitrov disappeared. Ten minutes later, he returned. The owner told him Kursk was upstairs in his room, having a shower. When Dimitrov knocked, Kursk opened the door wearing nothing but a towel. His body was covered with vivid black and purple bruises, and slashed by bloody abrasions.

Dimitrov followed Kursk into the room. He held out two pills. “Demerol,” he said. “My last ones. I will get more as soon as I can.”

Kursk washed the pills down with neat vodka, wiping the back of his hand across his face when he’d finished. “Okay, now get out of here,” he said. “I need to get some rest.”

He’d been out for less than an hour when there was another knock on his door. Kursk got up and strode across the room, stark naked. He opened the door.

“I thought I told you not to fucking disturb me.”

Dimitrov held out a phone. “It’s Yuri,” he said.

There were no introductions, just a voice on the other end of the line saying, “Get on the next train to Milan. Take Dimitrov.”

Kursk rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Yeah, sure . . . why?”

“Your partner kept her mobile on. We have tracked it traveling southeast across France. It looks as though she is on a train bound for Milan. The Englishman—his name is Samuel Carver—is almost certainly with her. They were spotted dancing together at some club in Paris. Platon was there with a couple of his latest women. He called me. And I am told that this Carver is carrying a computer that may contain information I do not wish to be made public. I will make sure we have people to meet the train at every stop. If Petrova and Carver get off, they will be followed until you arrive.”

“And then?”

“And then, Kursk, you will kill Carver and get that computer.”

“What about the woman?”

“Bring her back. I will decide what happens to her.”