The Mafia Trilogy (48 page)

“So you are actually married?”

It was the first time Arkady cracked a full smile.

“Yes.”

“I kill liars. You know that, Darwin. I kill them in this room. It’s easy. I ask questions and when I catch the first lie I shoot them in the knee. Shortly after, the next knee. Three strikes, you’re out. Bullet in the forehead.” He raised the gun and tapped his temple. “The fish rots from the head first.”

Darwin almost held his stomach to keep what little he had in there. The thought that Arkady knew something more and caught him in a lie made him feel it was over that quick. He wanted to shift in his seat, but didn’t. He wanted to run at Arkady and strangle the life out of him, but didn’t. He sat and waited for a bullet.

“But so far, everything you have said makes sense. I checked you out and saw a real marriage license. I’m impressed with the lengths you will go to create a cover. Not many people could take down two Cosa Nostra bosses and live. The families around here want your head. There are other families in the old country who want you dead.”

“That’s why I want to work for you. The fear that my name instills adds to your strength.” A cool sweat broke out all over Darwin’s body.

Arkady stood from the corner of the table and started pacing. “We’ll get to that. But first I want to ask you a series of questions and I want the most honest answers you can give me. Are we clear?”

“Yes.”

Arkady walked around behind Darwin. “I want you to picture a cube in the desert.”

“What do you mean, a cube?”

“Any cube. It can be made of anything. You picture it. Later I will want as many details as you can offer about the cube. Do it now.”

Darwin had no idea where this was going but he understood that it was some kind of test. Passing the test could mean the difference between walking out of the room on his own two feet or being taken out in a body bag.

“Next, I want you to picture a ladder,” Arkady said. “I want to know what it’s made of and where the ladder is in relation to the cube.”

Darwin’s knee bounced and he stopped it for fear of looking nervous. He wanted to wipe the sweat from his brow but chose not to.

“Are you ready?” Arkady asked, still standing behind him.

Darwin nodded.

“Okay, two more things. Picture a horse. I want to know the kind it is, where it is, and what it’s doing at the moment.”

Darwin did and waited for the last item.

The Russian gangster stepped around to Darwin’s right and looked down at him. “Are you ready for one more?”

“Yes. Go ahead.”

“Picture a storm. Tell me everything you can about this storm. Where is it? How far are you from it? What kind of storm is it? Got it?”

Darwin nodded.

“Okay, I’m going to let a few people in to hear your answers.”

Arkady opened the door and half a dozen Russians stepped into the room.

This is it. I’m doomed. I have no idea what the fuck is happening. How the hell can a cube and a horse have anything to do with laundering money and running drugs? What the fuck is happening here?

He remained stone-faced as the men formed a semi circle around the desk. The only man who stayed slightly behind him was Dolph. He leaned against the closed doors and folded his meaty arms.

I’m fucking done. Please, God, have someone waiting for me on the other side. Make it quick and painless.

He studied their faces, wondering if one of them could be undercover FBI like Carson had told him. Maybe more than one of the men in the room worked for the feds. Would that matter if Arkady lifted his weapon and shot him in the face?

Probably not.

“Now, tell me about the cube first. Your answers will reveal something about you that only we will know. If we like your answers, you live. If we don’t like your answers, you die. What the answers reveal is absolute truth without you knowing how. It may sound confusing, but this is how we operate. Are we clear?”

Darwin nodded, afraid to use his voice. What answers would be right? What did he mean when he said that they would know something about his answers? Was this a form of strategy like in chess or was it psychology class?

“Start by telling us about your cube,” Arkady said.

“I pictured a large cube. One made of hardened steel and impenetrable. Nothing can hurt it, mark it or destroy it. Like a cockroach after a nuclear war, the cube would keep on sitting in the desert, the sun reflecting off its surface.”

Heads turned, eyebrows raised. A couple of the men nodded to one another.

“Very good,” Arkady said. “The cube represents you.”

“Me? How so?”

“The cube is a look into your self-esteem, how you feel about yourself. What you just told us is that you’re unbeatable, unbreakable. You’re as strong as steel and even after the war, you will be the last man standing, untouched. I like that.”

Darwin was shocked. He had no idea how they linked the cube to him but he was happy his description was good.

“The ladder,” Arkady said. “Tell us about your ladder.”

“It’s strong too, but not as strong as the cube. Its metal frame can be bent with enough pressure.”

“Where do you see the ladder in relation to the cube?”

He hoped this wasn’t a trick. He thought fast and decided on what to say.

“The ladder is lying down under the cube. It’s stuck and unless the cube is moved, or decides to move, the ladder isn’t going anywhere.”

More nods. He knew this answer worked also. Two for two.

But what the hell does the ladder represent? Is it a phallic symbol?

“The ladder represents law enforcement and how you feel about them. What you just told us is that they are not a threat to you—at least you don’t see it that way. You’re on top of them, as in the cube sitting on the ladder. The rungs are made of metal, but they can be bent, which leads to how you can get them to do what you want when you want, like in the help you’ve received using the FBI. Brilliant, actually.”

“How do you know all these things and what they represent?”

“This is an examination of sorts prepared by a German psychologist for us to begin the process of initiation. If you pass this successfully, you go to the next level. That is something we’ll discuss another time. First, we must finish with the horse and the storm. Tell us about your horse.”

Arkady pulled back the action on his weapon to chamber a round. He checked to see the selector was off safe and lowered the weapon to his side.

That really fucking helps. No pressure. Now what the hell do I say?

The tension mounted on his system, his heart rate increased. There was no way he could get past the amount of men in the room. Weapons bulged under shirts and in pockets of every man in the semi-circle. Arkady had just readied his gun and Dolph guarded the door. Everything seemed to weigh on the horse answer.

What the fuck could be so important about a horse?

He decided to put the tough act on display.

“The horse I pictured is dead. Completely dead and rotting. It was an ugly thing. I had to kill it because of how ugly it was. Fucking horse. Who would want one?”

Arkady lifted his weapon, looked at Darwin over the top of it and flipped the safety back on. He set the gun on the table by his side and clapped his hands three times.

“Bravo. That is amazing.” He turned to the men around him and addressed them. “See how accurate this shit is?” He met Darwin’s eyes. “The horse represents love in a couple of forms. Mostly it is supposed to deal with the one love in your life, but it can also deal with how you feel about love if you’re single. Since your horse is dead, that confirms to us Rosina is dead. You said you had to kill your horse and we know you shot Rosina. But did you know,” Arkady waved his finger at Darwin, “you’re the first person ever to say their horse is dead? Of all the men we have done this on, the horse always described the woman they were in love with and how much they loved her. Amazing,” he said, shaking his head. “That was the biggest test. Now, tell us about the storm. Where is it in relation to the cube and what kind of storm is it?”

“The storm is so far from the cube that I can barely see it. It’s like four winds from different areas have joined together to form a wicked tornado. I can see it in the distance but it doesn’t pose a threat to me. Even if it came my way, nothing fucks with the cube. There’s no tornado big enough to even move the cube. I don’t fear it.”

“The storm tells us how you feel about problems in your life such as law enforcement. It also tells us how close they are to you. We’ve caught two guys working undercover with the storm as they said that it was over their heads, raining down on them. According to what you just said, the law is so far away, you can barely see them and even if they came at you, it’ll mean nothing because you’re the motherfucking cube.”

Arkady turned and pointed at each man in the room. After a moment, each man nodded at Arkady. Darwin had no idea what that meant, only that it was probably a good thing.

Dolph opened the door and stepped out, followed by the rest of the men. Arkady stopped at the door and waved at Darwin.

“Come on. I’ll give you a tour of our warehouse while the men set up the initiation rites. You’re going to like what we have in store for you.”

Darwin got up from the chair, happy that Arkady had already turned away and didn’t notice his knees almost give out. He had no idea how he managed to pass their test, but it looked like they really liked his answers.

He wondered when his heart would calm down. Before walking out of the room he looked back and saw the telltale sweaty moisture on the seat he’d been sitting on.

Glad that’s only sweat, and not piss too.

He followed Arkady along the raised metal walkway and then down the stairs. They turned a corner and started down another hall with doors on either side. Music blared from two rooms on the left with doors shut. On the right, the rooms had no doors.

Arkady stopped in front of the first room and stepped just inside the door.

“Take a look at what we have here,” he said, his face giving off no emotion.

Darwin entered the room and saw an apparatus of some kind. It was covered in a red and black liquid. It looked like someone had painted the whole unit in a haphazard way, dripping the darkened paint on the floor around the base of the unit. There were small white cubes scattered on the floor at the base as well as what looked like hair.

Darwin recoiled and then thought better of it. He could not allow Arkady to see him flinch. He’d made it this far.

“What is that thing?” Darwin asked.

“That’s a Judas Cradle.”

It looked like a regular wooden stool from any bar, but there wasn’t a seat. Instead, there was a cone-like pyramid with a sharp looking tip. From where Darwin stood—and he swore to himself he wouldn’t step closer—the top appeared to be metal with four sharpened edges coming to the pinnacle that formed the tip of a large dart.

It wasn’t paint that covered the surface. It was blood. Chains were suspended above the unit with weights and different pulleys that, at first glance, Darwin couldn’t make sense of.

“It looks pretty dirty …” Darwin broke off before his voice caught in his throat. The sharp tip of the cone caused a disturbance in him. He suddenly felt like he had to vomit again.

“We never clean it,” Arkady said.

Darwin frowned, but didn’t say a word.

“Four days ago we found an informant amongst our ranks. He was stripped of his clothes and placed in those chains above the Judas Cradle. Then, with the support of gravity and his own body weight, he was eased down onto the top of the cone, strategically, until the steel tip entered his asshole.” Arkady chuckled, his smile widening. “Man, did that guy scream.”

Darwin had heard enough. He was sure stomach enzymes would cover Arkady’s head in seconds if he continued.

“The blades on the top of the cone are so sharp that as the man is lowered, he gets opened from the anus and spread as wide as the base. When it’s over you could place a large watermelon or pumpkin in the corpse without touching the edges of the hole in his ass. The informant was literally torn apart from his rectum up to his neck. Amazing, isn’t it?”

Darwin felt seriously ill. He worried that if Arkady caught on, he would be the next Judas Cradle victim. He stepped back in the shadow of the door, made to trip and stubbed his toe hard against the door to have something else to focus on. The pain was sharp and did its job. Anger fueled him as the pain coursed up his leg.

He turned to Arkady, his face placid, and asked, “What are the white cubes on the floor at the base?” His voice remained solid.

“The guy screamed and begged to be taken off. We told him we would stop. At that point, the damage from the first foot of the blades inserted in his ass was enough that after surgery, he’d be able to shit again the normal way within a month. But he had to do something for us.”