Chapters (99)
- About the Author
- Also by John Connolly
- THE NAMELESS ONES
- John Connolly
- Dedication
- Contents
- Author’s Note
- I
- Chapter I
- Chapter II
- Chapter III
- Chapter IV
- Chapter V
- Chapter VI
- Chapter VII
- Chapter VIII
- Chapter IX
- Chapter X
- Chapter XI
- Chapter XII
- Chapter XIII
- Chapter XIV
- Chapter XV
- Chapter XVI
- Chapter XVII
- Chapter XVIII
- Chapter XIX
- Chapter XX
- Chapter XXI
- Chapter XXII
- Chapter XXIII
- Chapter XXIV
- Chapter XXV
- Chapter XXVI
- Chapter XXVII
- Chapter XXVIII
- Chapter XXIX
- Chapter XXX
- Chapter XXXI
- Chapter XXXII
- Chapter XXXIII
- II
- Chapter XXXIV
- Chapter XXXV
- Chapter XXXVI
- Chapter XXXVII
- Chapter XXXVIII
- Chapter XXXIX
- Chapter XL
- Chapter XLI
- Chapter XLII
- Chapter XLIII
- Chapter XLIV
- Chapter XLV
- Chapter XLVI
- Chapter XLVII
- Chapter XLVIII
- III
- Chapter XLIX
- Chapter L
- Chapter LI
- Chapter LII
- Chapter LIII
- Chapter LIV
- Chapter LV
- Chapter LVI
- Chapter LVII
- Chapter LVIII
- Chapter LIX
- Chapter LX
- Chapter LXI
- Chapter LXII
- Chapter LXIII
- Chapter LXIV
- Chapter LXV
- Chapter LXVI
- Chapter LXVII
- IV
- Chapter LXVIII
- Chapter LXIX
- Chapter LXX
- Chapter LXXI
- Chapter LXXII
- Chapter LXXIII
- Chapter LXXIV
- Chapter LXXV
- Chapter LXXVI
- Chapter LXXVII
- Chapter LXXVIII
- Chapter LXXIX
- Chapter LXXX
- Chapter LXXXI
- Chapter LXXXII
- Chapter LXXXIII
- Chapter LXXXIV
- Chapter LXXXV
- Chapter LXXXVI
- Chapter LXXXVII
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Although Mina had packed hurriedly, there was no mess in the bedroom, and only his own possessions now remained conspicuous. It was very like her to be able to excise so efficiently any obvious evidence of her existence. When eventually the divorce was finalized, and their severance complete, it would be as though she had never played a part in his history. They might meet at Pia’s wedding, he supposed, assuming Pia ever found time to marry, and he was invited to the ceremony. Otherwise, Frend believed that he and Mina might never be found in each other’s presence again until one of them died and the other stood dry-eyed in the church as some version of a life was recalled for the benefit of the congregation.
His cell phone rang. For a moment he hoped it might be Mina calling, but the number was withheld. He answered it anyway to distract him from his thoughts.
‘Lawyer Frend,’ said the voice in his ear. ‘This is Matija Kiš.’
Frend moved to the window, keeping to one side of it, and used a finger to lift the drape, half expecting to see Kiš or Simo Stajić standing by the gate, but the street was empty.
‘Yes?’ said Frend.
‘You left Belgrade very suddenly.’
‘I was concerned for my well-being.’
‘I don’t blame you. In fact, I admire your courage for being willing to come to Belgrade in the first place. Few lawyers would choose to jeopardize their lives for their clients. In that sense, I concede, you are a credit to your profession. May I be honest with you?’
‘I would welcome it,’ said Frend.
‘With regard to your clients, my colleague and I have encountered a difference of opinion on how to proceed. In part, it comes down to our contrasting natures. Simo is impulsive, and prone to seeking terminal solutions. He acts first and thinks after. Sometimes, I fear he does not think at all. Do you understand?’
Kiš’s problem, Frend reflected, was that he had been born a decade too late. There was a time when someone so obviously mired in criminality would still have been electable in Serbia – in fact, in any number of territories that were once part of the Soviet bloc – but such was no longer the case and now he had to work through others. Nevertheless, he had a politician’s tongue and was careful to avoid saying anything over the phone that might impact negatively upon him in a court of law.
‘I have experienced no difficulty in following you so far,’ said Frend.