Meanwhile, on the more blatantly criminal side, Kiš had close ties to Simo Stajić, the dominant figure in the Kosovan underworld. Stajić had graduated from car theft to extortion, loan sharking, money laundering, and the smuggling of fuel, cigarettes, and drugs. He enjoyed free rein in Kosovo, untroubled by police interference, thanks to his reputation as a protector of minority Serbian rights in the disputed region. He was ruthless where Kiš was restrained, and crazy where Kiš was practical. Effectively, Stajić was a dog on a chain, which Kiš could unclip at any time. Now, it seemed, Kiš was seeking to expand and consolidate his influence, aided by Stajić. It was Radovan’s view that Stajić had in all likelihood designed and planted the bomb responsible for reducing Nikola Musulin to fragments of meat and bone, in collaboration with Matija Kiš and with the blessing, tacit or otherwise, of a cabal within the SPP.

Radovan had shared none of this with his brother. He did not want Spiridon to call in whatever favors he had left in an effort to punish Kiš or, God forbid, Stajić by targeting some of their people. Instead, overtures would have to be made to these two men, which was why Anton Frend would soon be traveling – albeit reluctantly – to Belgrade in order to find a solution satisfactory to all parties involved.

But Zorya’s talk of hunters was troubling. Perhaps Kiš and Stajić had decided that negotiations with the Vuksans were likely to be more trouble than they were worth, and it would be better to cut the head off the snake than allow it to slide into the dark, from where it might strike at some future date.

‘The hunters are not Serbian,’ said Zorya.

‘What, then?’ said Spiridon.

‘The dead girl had an American accent.’

Spiridon looked to his brother, who shrugged.

‘De Jaager dealt with the Americans,’ said Radovan, ‘but then he dealt with everyone. The Americans would have no more reason than others to take his death personally.’

‘One of the men I saw was black,’ said Zorya.

‘Ah,’ said Spiridon. ‘Could this be Louis, the one the legat identified as Andrej’s killer?’

He looked to his brother for confirmation.

‘Perhaps,’ said Radovan. He was reluctant to accept Zorya’s warning unconditionally, but he was not so foolish as to dismiss it entirely. After all, she had been correct in the past. Her instincts, supernaturally gifted or not, were good.

‘If he wants to make a personal matter of it, so be it,’ said Spiridon. ‘Let him come.’

‘It’s a further complication we could do without,’ said Radovan, ‘especially when we are vulnerable.’

‘Don’t use that word,’ said Spiridon. ‘To speak it is to make it so.’

‘To ignore reality is worse. Whatever action we choose to take, we first need to confirm this man’s identity. If we do not know who he is, how can we cope with the threat he poses?’