Chapter LV

Louis and Most were sitting in an old BMW X3 amid the ruins of the roofless factory, waiting patiently to take a man’s life.

It was a cold, clear night. Most was keeping the car warm in order to prevent condensation from limiting their visibility. The factory stood almost within sight of the eastern boundary of the Novákovi territory, which was as close as Most was willing to get, and closer than he would have preferred. He had parked so that the road behind them could be seen in both directions through the glassless windows of the building. A low wall cut off the property from the road, with a gap on either side wide enough to admit a truck. Most had laid a spike strip at each entrance, which would puncture the tires of any vehicle that tried to approach. Ahead of them, a dirt track cut through waste ground, ending in a small patch of woodland. If everything went awry, and their location was discovered, the spike strips would buy them enough time to make for the woods, ditch the car, and continue south on the powerful motorcycle that Most had concealed under a tarpaulin among the trees. Louis hoped it wouldn’t come to that. He disliked being a passenger at the best of times, but he particularly wished to avoid riding pillion on a motorcycle. Not many things made Louis nervous, but motorcycles were one of them, especially when they were under the control of a man who walked with a cane and admitted to not always being able to feel his right foot.

Louis checked his watch. According to Most’s source, Luca Bilbija typically spent between two and four hours at the casino each night. Given that Bilbija now had a visitor from home, Louis guessed that tonight it was likely to be closer to four – more, should Bilbija and his companion decide to seek some female entertainment. If they did, it was doubtful that they would bring the women back to the house. A man who was spending money on a police escort, and living in a secure compound, would be reluctant to imperil himself by admitting strangers to his accommodations, even girls screened by the Novákovi.

Or so Louis hoped. If Bilbija did decide to take girls home, the hit would have to be postponed. Louis and Most were not prepared to kill innocents. Mirko, the man who claimed to be Bilbija’s brother, was less of a concern; he should have chosen his acquaintances more judiciously. Whatever happened, Most’s contact would let them know just as soon as Bilbija was ready to leave the casino. He would then have to wait for his car to be brought to the main door, and for the two escort cars to arrive. Even so, the window of opportunity would be very small.