‘I’ll get up there myself. To the ports. Talk to those being squeezed. Someone will know a name, or a face.’

‘But not yet.’

Zidarov smiled. ‘Not yet. First, I’ve got to put a tail on the one person I know for sure has been pulling all our strings.’ He took up the tracker again, pinned against its metal backing. ‘Udmil Terashova.’

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Going back to the mansion was a strange experience in the rain. Everything was the same, but everything was different. The asphalt glistened now, the high walls were damp and darkened. Lumens stayed on even once the sun had risen, their lights blotchy and diffuse.

Zidarov took the Luxer part way there, heading first to a groundcar hire facility run by a contact he’d used before. Once there, he swapped vehicles for a nondescript Grappia Noxus, and drove the rest of the way in that. He cruised down the long boulevards, finally drawing up on the opposite side of the street to the Terashovas’ property. He cracked the door and let a base-level scanner – a tiny thing, the size of a stone – fall to the ground. The device had been keyed to the profile of Udmil Terashova’s standard ground transport, a vast, six-wheeled bulletproof machine in black and gold driven by an armed chauffeur. He’d got the profile from the Bastion’s files, though he’d have been confident at having a shot at defining it himself – the gilded all tended to use the same kind of monstrous vehicles. Then he was driving again, heading out for the next intersection. He got back to the hire-yard and picked up the Luxer. He drove that a little further on until he could find somewhere more agreeable to wait – a disused storage yard with industrial units on three sides, no windows, no obvious activity – and pulled over. He activated the scanner, shifted back in the seat, and poured himself a hot drink.

He was prepared to linger for a long time. He had no idea how often Udmil’s transport left the mansion. He had no idea whether it always travelled with her in it, or whether it was used to ferry her back and forth routinely, and hence was empty half the time.

He thought about Milija during the wait. He hadn’t heard from her since the argument at the hab. He hoped that was due to Naxi coming around and things calming down. The lack of contact might just have been due to her work keeping her occupied. The wet season produced more injuries, which made her department busier. Naxi was something that deserved his time. He ought to have been there, for both of them.