\u201cSit down.\u201d A woman of about fifty with dyed brown hair and dressed in a dark suit motioned to a couple of chairs with a silver pen. \u201cMy name is Vila,\u201d she said.\u2028
\n\u201cDetective Zdravko Nestorov,\u201d said Zdravko holding out his ID. \u201cThis is Detective Pavlov.\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cAnd what can I do for you two?\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cRusim needs a drink,\u201d said Zdravko.
\n\u2028\u201cAnd what do you need, Mister Mouthpiece?\u201d\u2028
\nZdravko smiled. He was a sucker for shoot from the hip women. \u201cI need a lead.\u201d\u2028
\nVila looked over at the longhair. \u201cGet these two guys a drink.\u201d She looked back. \u201cWhat\u2019ll you be drinking?\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cRakia,\u201d the longhair suggested.
\nVila eyed up Zdravko and Rusim. \u201cRakia all round, then.\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cZdravko doesn\u2019t drink,\u201d said Rusim.\u2028
\n\u201cGood. Perfect. More for us. What kind of lead?\u201d Vila spoke with an accent Zdravko couldn\u2019t quite place.\u201d
\n\u2028\u201cWe\u2019re looking for a man named Robert Gjoeb,\u201d said Zdravko.\u2028
\n\u201cI don\u2019t know anyone called Robert Gjoeb. What kind of a name is that?\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cHungarian.\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cMaybe you should try looking in Hungary. Can\u2019t say I\u2019ve heard of him. What\u2019s he got to do with this place?\u201d
\n\u201cNothing,\u201d said Zdravko. \u201cWe came in here because we\u2019re shit out of good ideas. And there you were, right across the street staring us in the face.\u201d
\nThe longhair came back with handful of shot glasses and a bottle of rakia.\u2028
\n\u201cWe\u2019re just about closing up,\u201d said Vila. \u201cDoncho. You ever come across a Robert Gjoeb?\u201d\u2028
\nDoncho took his time, racking his brains. \u201cGjoeb,\u201d he mumbled to himself. \u201cRobert… Gjoeb…\u201d like it pleased him to be racking his yokel brains and pouring the drinks. \u201cCan\u2019t say I have,\u201d he said.\u2028 Vila put down her pen and picked up her glass. \u201cNazdrave, gentlemen!\u201d\u2028
\nDoncho handed Rusim his rakia.\u2028
\n\u201cNazdrave,\u201d said Rusim.
\n\u201cNazdrave,\u201d said Doncho. \u201cTo Robert Gjoeb!\u201d
\nSometimes low-lifes made more sense than anyone. Rusim drained his glass in one go.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho owns this business?\u201d asked Zdravko.
\n\u2028\u201cIt\u2019s complicated,\u201d said Vila.
\n\u2028\u201cHow complicated?\u201d
\n\u2028\u201cComplicated like a tree.\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cCrime is like a tree,\u201d said Rusim.
\n\u201cAnd how does that work?\u201d
\n\u201cBeats me. Old Shopi proverb.\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cA Shop?\u201d quizzed Vila.
\n\u2028\u201cSon of a Shop.\u201d\u2028
\n\u201cWell, son of a Shop, we ain\u2019t some business up a tree,\u201d said Vila.
\nDoncho refilled Rusim\u2019s glass.
\n\u201cWhat happened to the other guy?\u201d asked Zdravko looking around to the door.
\n\u2028\u201cHe\u2019s locked up and gone,\u201d said Vila. She turned back to her computer and typed something in.
\n\u201cYou got a glass of water in here?\u201d asked Zdravko already out of his chair.
\n\u201cRound the corner,\u201d said Doncho. \u201cWhat\u2019s that thing around your neck?\u201d Zdravko\u2019s pendant had somehow found its way outside his shirt.
\n\u2028\u201cI don\u2019t know. What was that thing in your holster?\u201d
\n\u201cRussian police issue.\u201d
\nZdravko stopped. \u201cThis,\u201d he said holding the pendant up to his chin, \u201cis the seven pointed star. Ancient Thracian symbol of unknown meaning.\u201d
\n\u2028\u201cThracian,\u201d repeated Doncho.\u2028
\n\u201cThracians.\u201d
\n\u201cAnd what are Thracians?\u201d
\n\u201cNo one knows,\u201d said Zdravko and went off to look for a glass of water.<\/p>\n
While Zdravko was out another round got poured.
\n\u201cYou idiot. What are Thracians?\u201d Vila turned back from the computer. \u201cEveryone knows who the Thracians were. They lived here before the Romans and Christianity and Muslims and mobile phones.\u201d
\n\u201cI\u2019m a Thracian in my own shop probably,\u201d said Doncho. \u201cDrinking with a Shop. A Shop and a cop.\u201d
\n\u201cThere\u2019s a fine line between knowledge and dizziness,\u201d said Vila.<\/p>\n
Zdravko looked in the fridge for anything other than tap water. Some kind of bubbles. Maybe ice. Both of those were likely fluoridated anyway. He took out a bottle of mineral water and poured himself a glass.
\nHe looked around the kitchen. Two sinks. A bench virtually spotless. An oven. A dishwashing machine. A tray with salt and pepper and other assorted condiments. Another bench with coffee, tea, sugar, cocoa and cookies. He bent down to take a closer look at the cookies. Beneath was a rubbish bin. On the far wall there were some inane health and safety notices. A photograph of a luxury pleasure boat hung above the fridge. “Balkus,” the caption read. Sleek and white, the yacht looked to be at least thirty metres long, moored up in a harbour three stories high.
\nThe fridge started beeping to be closed.
\n\u201cNice yacht,\u201d said Zdravko closing the door.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u201cSit down.\u201d A woman of about fifty with dyed brown hair and dressed in a dark suit motioned to a couple of chairs with a silver pen. \u201cMy name is Vila,\u201d she said.\u2028 \u201cDetective Zdravko Nestorov,\u201d said Zdravko holding out … Continue reading