“They have a nickname for him, the Shark. Did you know this?”

“No.”

“Could they be more dramatic? The Shark. He probably made this up for himself.”

George made quote marks in the air when he said “the Shark,” and rolled his eyes.

“He is the Shark because he never stops moving, and he moves so no one can find him. This is not a loved man, even among the Serb sets.”

Pike grunted, now understanding why Rina didn’t know where to find him. So far, her descriptions of Michael Darko matched with Gregor’s.

Pike said, “He’s been using a home invasion crew to take out his competition. He used the same crew on Frank. I want to find them, and I want to find him.”

George laughed, full-bodied and deep.

“You got part of that wrong, buddy. He isn’t taking out his competition. He’s ripping off his partners. Why do you think this asshole has to keep moving?”

“You know about this?”

“Enough to keep tabs. If he wants to rip off his own business partners, good riddance. If he sends a crew to Odessa, they’ll have to deal with me.”

Pike wondered if Darko was ripping off his partners because he was returning to Europe—get some quick cash, grab his kid, go.

“The tabs you keep include his crew?”

George shrugged, no big deal.

“Bangers from Compton.”

“Jamal Johnson?”

“Never heard of him.”

“A Compton offender who’s come into recent wealth.”

“Is he a Crip?”

“I don’t know.”

“A D-Block Crip called Moon Williams runs Darko’s crew. Another dramatic name. Darko feeds him the targets. Williams splits the take.”

Pike felt a burn of excitement, as if he had taken a step closer.

“Moon Williams. You sure?”

George cupped a hand behind his ear as if he was listening.

“The KGB is everywhere. Also, Mr. Moon has been making much money recently, too. He spends it in a club owned by Odessa. Cristal champagne, the finest rock, and beautiful Russian women. He loves the Russian women. He loves to tell them what a badazz life-takin’ nigga he is.”

George burst out laughing again, an obvious glee in his eyes. For George, people like Moon Williams were here so he would always have targets.

Pike said, “Uh-huh. Does the KGB know where I can find him?”

George considered Joe for a moment, then lifted his desk phone, and punched in a number. George spoke Russian to whoever answered, and had a back-and-forth conversation that lasted several minutes. George was silent for a while in the middle of the conversation as if he had been put on hold. During that silence, he gazed at Pike with his pale blue eyes empty, never once blinking. Then he came back to life, whispered a single word in Russian, and hung up. When he looked at Pike again, he was somber.

“Jon told me you and Frank were close.”

“Yes.”