35

Hobart and two police officers approached the entrance to Skender’s building, which had returned to some form of normality as staff continued to prepare for the big event. Hobart had taken a moment in the square to make some calls and confirm any initial contact that had been made to set wheels in motion to evacuate Skender’s business centre, set up a police cordon and bring in EOD teams. He also checked that the relevant utilities such as power, gas and water which might need to be shut down had been notified, as well as emergency services like hospitals. The two police officers had arrived in response to the alarms that had since been switched off and Hobart asked them to accompany him to the building. As he walked across the concourse he paused to look at the statue of Skender, shook his head, and carried on to the entrance.

Klodi was in charge of an enhanced search team at the main doors. When he saw Hobart and the cops approach he stepped forward to meet them.

‘Hey, officers, can I help you?’

Hobart ignored the large thug with the bandaged hand and forced smile to talk to a woman who appeared to be a senior member of the event staff. ‘Who’s in charge here? I’m talking about the catering and everything?’

‘That would be Mr Mathews,’ the woman said, look ing at Hobart and the two cops either side of him.

‘And where would I find Mr Mathews?’ Hobart asked, like a schoolteacher talking to a child.

‘He’s inside,’ she said.

‘Get him out here – now, please,’ Hobart said.

As the woman walked inside Hobart turned to face Klodi, trying hard not to show an anger that was gradually bubbling up inside him. He was expecting to receive resistance from Skender and was getting ready to meet it head on. ‘I want to see Skender.’

‘Mr Skender is a little busy right now,’ Klodi said with a cocky smile, wiping his nose with his bandaged hand. ‘We got an openin’ ceremony today.’

‘I didn’t ask to see him. I said I wanted to see him which is the same as saying I’m going to see him. Do you understand me?’ Hobart said.

‘Do you wanna hold on a moment? He could be anywhere in the building.’

‘You’ve got one minute and then I’m looking for him myself.’

Klodi moved to one side and raised his radio to his mouth. ‘Mr Vleshek. This is Klodi at the front door.’

‘What is it?’ Cano’s voice crackled over the radio.

‘That FBI guy’s down here. Says he wants to see Mr Skender.’

‘Tell him to come back in an hour when the bar’s open.’

Hobart was listening and bit his lip. He was here to kick some Albanian butt but he needed to save himself for the top man. ‘You got thirty seconds,’ Hobart said.

‘You better get down here,’ Klodi said into the radio. ‘I don’t think he’s here on a social visit.’

There was a pause, then the voice came back. ‘I’m on my way.’

‘He’s on his way,’ Klodi repeated, maintaining his smile.

A man stepped through the doors with the female event-staff member in tow and presented himself to the police officers. ‘I’m Mr Mathews, the event manager. Can I help you?’ he asked with a smile.

Hobart took out his badge and showed it to the man. ‘I’m head of the FBI in California. Does that mean anything to you?’

‘Well, yes – quite a lot,’ the man said, his smile waning a little at the edges. He was beginning to look a little nervous.

‘You’re right. It does mean a lot. I’m giving you five minutes to evacuate this building and move all your people and transport out of here. Is that clear?’

‘Five minutes?’ the man said, looking deeply perplexed.

‘If your vans aren’t out of here by –’ Hobart checked his watch ‘– twelve minutes past the hour you’ll be cited for obstruction of justice, your vehicles will be impounded and could be held for months and I doubt very much whether your business licence will be renewed. Do you understand everything I’ve just said?’

‘I do, sir,’ the man said as he turned on his heel and pushed his way back into the building.

Hobart watched him go. Then he faced Klodi who was standing between him and the front doors. ‘You’re in my way,’ he said.

Klodi stepped aside in the face of a superior power. Hobart and the officers marched in.

As they walked into the lobby beneath the massive chandelier Cano was coming down the broad stairs at the other side of the elevators. As he stepped onto the marble floor it became evident to him by the excited activities of the event staff that something was happening about which he was unaware.

‘Where’s Skender?’ Hobart asked as Cano approached.

‘What’s going on?’ Cano asked, ignoring Hobart’s question and looking past him as several event-staff personnel hurried from the ballroom and out through the main doors.

Hobart hated being ignored and this place was sorely trying his patience. But he stuck by his plan and held on to his temper, though with increasing difficulty. ‘You want to know what’s happening?’ he asked, forcing a smile. ‘I’m closing down your building, your opening ceremony, everything. And now you listen to me. You speak to me one more time like I’m the bellhop and I’ll run you downtown so fast your feet won’t touch the ground. Now take me to Skender!’ he shouted.

Cano remained cool as ice. Hobart’s efforts to impress him were as effective as hail on armour. ‘One moment,’ Cano said, holding up a finger as he took his cellphone from his pocket and stepped to one side to use it.

Hobart gritted his teeth as he looked at one of the cops. Cano spoke quietly on his phone for a few seconds before pocketing it and walking to the elevator. ‘Mr Skender will see you,’ he said as he pushed a call button.

Hobart turned his back on Cano who was just beyond earshot and talked to the cops. ‘Your chief is on his way. This is an emergency situation. We have a suspected bomb in the building. Skender’s bodyguards can stay for the time being but I want everyone else out of here. That includes security staff, administrators, janitors, cooks and busboys, everyone. Got it?’

The cops looked at each other and nodded.

‘Go to it,’ Hobart said before turning to head for the elevator. ‘Lead on, Mr Vleshek,’ he said, making a meal out of the name.

Cano walked inside and Hobart joined him. The elevator doors closed. Cano thought he could sense that Hobart was unusually confident about something, then dismissed it as one of the FBI man’s little moments of power.

The elevator arrived at the penthouse. Hobart followed Cano out, past two suited thugs who were guarding the elevator doors and along the curving corridor to the conference room where Skender was studying his model town and making notes.

Skender looked up as the glass doors opened and the two men walked in.

‘Hobart’s emptying out the building,’ Cano said.

Skender studied them both as if he had not quite heard correctly. ‘Say that again?’ he asked.

‘He’s sent the caterers away,’ Cano said.

‘Home,’ Hobart corrected him. ‘I’ve sent them home.’

Something inside Skender almost snapped as he realised the significance of the information. But he held himself in check as he looked at Hobart, reassessing the man.

‘Just in case you don’t understand my English, I’ll spell things out for you,’ Hobart said, wearing the hint of a grin. ‘Your party’s over. The opening ceremony – it isn’t going to happen. Not today at least.’

‘You want to tell me why?’ Skender asked, putting down his notepad.

‘I have reason to believe there’s a bomb in your building,’ Hobart said.

‘You do?’ Skender said, glancing at Cano.

‘That’s right. I’m not here to argue with you, Skender. I want everyone out of the building.’

‘Why do I get the feeling that you suddenly grew a pair of balls, Hobart?’ Skender asked, walking towards him. ‘You used to walk in here with your cap in your hand like some busboy and now suddenly you’re – how is it you Americans say? – walkin’ tall. What happened? Your wife give you your annual blow job last night?’

Hobart wasn’t fazed by the insult. ‘You’re right about the change. This is just the first step. I warned you about crossing the line.’

‘Warn?’ Skender said, closing on Hobart, barely holding on to his temper. ‘Is that like a weather warning, or a tough-guy warning?’

Hobart suddenly felt a pang of unease in his core as Skender moved into his space, looking more dangerous than he’d ever seen him before. Everything he knew about the man, his history of violence since his youth, appeared to be written on his face. He suddenly felt uncomfortable being this close to it.

‘So what was this line I crossed?’ Skender asked, his voice sounding more croaky as it got quieter.

‘Kidnapping, for one,’ Hobart said, feeling as if he might get the upper hand at this meeting if he showed Skender some purpose.

‘What are you talking about?’ Skender said, genuinely surprised. Then his suspicions flashed to Cano but he did not look at him.

‘Sally Penton’s kid,’ Hobart explained. ‘The woman your two boys killed, Leka and that moron Ardian,’ he said, deliberately staring at Cano, knowing that the man was furious but did not dare show it. ‘They’re the reason you have a bomb in your building,’ Hobart continued, looking back at Skender. ‘Come on. Don’t you know what’s going on in your own house? Maybe I should be talking to this guy. I bet he knows what’s going on. What do you say, Vleshek? Or should I say Cano, Ardian’s brother?’

Cano choked back his surprise. But at that moment he was more concerned about Skender who had thrown him a most dangerous look.

Skender was beginning to boil over inside. Had Hobart been able to see the danger he might have held back a bit. He had Skender on the run but did not know how tight was the corner that he was chasing the Albanian crime lord into.

Skender instantly believed Hobart about the kidnapping though he genuinely knew nothing about it. Nor did he know of the supposed bomb in his building but he believed that too. Cano had kept everything from him. Skender knew that Cano’s deviousness was rooted in fear as well as in the hope that he could resolve the problem on his own but matters had gone beyond that now.

‘The walls are closing in, Skender,’ Hobart said, unable to hide his satisfaction at seeing these two evil men in mental turmoil. ‘I’ve been waiting for you to drop the ball. It was only a matter of time.’

Suddenly Skender’s fist slammed into Hobart’s solar plexus under his heart, stopping it just for a second and knocking every ounce of wind out of him.

‘Time is what you ain’t got a lot of,’ Skender said. As Hobart toppled forward, grabbing his chest in pain, Skender took him by the throat with a gnarled peasant hand, pushed him upright against the central pillar and powered a fist into his side, cracking something. ‘You need to learn your place in this world, little man.’

Hobart’s legs buckled. As he went down Skender kneed him viciously in the face, knocking the back of his head against the pillar as his nose burst open.

‘Now tell me. How much do I give a damn?’ Skender demanded.

Hobart dropped to the floor, trembling as he tried to roll onto his side. Skender kicked him brutally in the face and as Hobart collapsed onto his front the Albanian loomed over him like a salivating wolf savouring his kill.

‘Let me tell you your future,’ Skender said. ‘My deal with the Feds goes on. I have what they want and I’m gonna deliver, from time to time. One of my new conditions is that they dump your ass. You know they will, because I’m more important to them than you are. Now I’ll tell you what else I’m gonna do, and I want you to listen carefully. Are you listening to me?’

Hobart was in a bad way but Skender callously rolled him onto his back with his foot. Blood trickled across Hobart’s face and he blinked to hold on to consciousness as Skender went in and out of focus.

‘One day,’ Skender went on, ‘a year, maybe two years from now, you’re gonna be somewhere, driving along, maybe leaving a restaurant with your fat wife and you’re gonna have an accident. Hit-and-run maybe, a mugger, whatever. The point is, you’re gonna die, Hobart. That’s an Albanian promise, my friend. I want you to spend every waking minute until that day thinking about it, knowing that it’s going to happen.’

As Hobart stared up at Skender he heard a ringing sound that seemed to go on for an age. But he was so consumed by what Skender had done and said to him that he was unable to realise it was his mobile phone. Hobart had never been so physically abused in his life and nothing had prepared him for it.

Skender sneered at the pathetic figure before turning away to rest his callous stare on Cano. ‘Where is he?’ Skender asked with a malevolence that shocked even the other Albanian.

‘He got into the building somehow—’

‘I’m talking about the kid!’ Skender yelled, his face going red as he closed on Cano.

‘The floor below,’ Cano said, wondering what his reaction would be if Skender struck him too. To hit back would mean that he would have to kill Skender, for that would be his own fate if he did not.

‘You brought him here?’ Skender growled. ‘Are you completely stupid?’

‘No one would think—’

‘You’re the only one who doesn’t think around here. Where?’

‘In the janitor’s cupboard.’

Skender wanted to kill him there and then. But this was not the time to execute a man who was obsessed with killing another who was a more immediate threat. Besides, he would expect Cano to fight back and that could be problematic. He fancied his chances against Cano, even with their age difference. Cano was brutal but he lacked Skender’s experience. Nevertheless, this was not the time. ‘How does Hobart know there’s a bomb in this building?’ he asked, turning his attention to the immediate and potentially more dangerous situation.

‘I don’t know.’

‘The Englishman?’

Cano nodded.

Skender was aware of Stratton’s abilities with explosives but the truth was that he had no concern for his own life, feeling secure in such a large structure. What angered him was the thought of even a speck of damage to his beloved new building.

‘When was he here?’

‘An hour ago.’

‘Inside the building? You’re sure of that?’

‘He nearly killed one of our people in the garage.’

Skender looked away in thought. ‘This guy will have a plan.’

‘He wants the kid,’ Cano said.

That was fairly obvious, thought Skender as he stepped towards the glass doors, pausing at them. ‘Get that creep outta here,’ he said, indicating Hobart. ‘And Cano – if that guy does anything to this building, and I mean one broken window, I’m gonna kill you myself.’

The two men stared at each other. Cano did not doubt the threat for a second.

Skender walked along the corridor behind the frosted-glass wall to the emergency exit. Cano lowered his gaze to Hobart who was trying to pull himself up, using the edge of the table. But his damaged ribs, among other things, were causing him extreme pain.

Hobart persevered and pulled himself up enough to slump awk-wardly into a chair, every breath accompanied by a burning stab inside his chest. The pain was one thing but much worse was the degradation and humiliation. He had entirely miscalculated Skender’s contempt for authority and lust for brutality.

‘You know where the elevator is,’ Cano said as he walked out of the room, too much on his own mind to care what happened to Hobart.

Hobart wanted nothing more than to get out of there but at that moment he was not sure if he could get to his feet without help, let alone out of the building. His face hurt like hell, his jaw was probably broken and God only knew how bad his ribs were. He cursed himself for being so stupid and putting himself in such a situation. He should have asked the cops to accompany him but he had been too arrogant to predict for himself what he might have warned others of. And there was yet more to come when he faced his staff and superiors. They would hold him partly to blame for his stupidity in confronting Skender alone. Without a witness Hobart was helpless.

His phone rang again but he ignored it, unsure if he could actually speak properly. He made an effort to get to his feet, wobbling slightly, fixing his stare on the doorway and staggering towards it.