The brothers had heard these stories, and counseled their nephew to take action. The fact that he had not done so might have contributed to his death, although it was unlikely that any response from Nikola would have prevented it. Spiridon’s intended return had damned him.

‘He was a figurehead,’ said Spiridon, ‘a straw man. But he was ours.’

‘Such a public killing,’ said Dražeta, ‘must have been sanctioned at a very high level.’

‘Nevertheless,’ said Radovan, ‘I doubt they expected the entire restaurant to be brought down on him. Someone will have received a rap on the knuckles.’

‘With a blade,’ said Dražeta, and they smiled.

‘Have you been approached by Belgrade?’ said Spiridon, and he asked the question so mildly that there could be no mistaking his meaning.

‘Not recently,’ said Dražeta.

‘But in the past?’

‘Yes. I have always refused to become involved in contemporary ventures.’

‘You’re involved now,’ said Radovan.

‘I would never refuse you – or your brother,’ he added, in deference to Spiridon.

‘We’re grateful,’ said Radovan, and they toasted one another again.

‘So where will you go?’ said Dražeta.

‘I don’t know,’ said Radovan. ‘We have to open a dialogue, but without exposing ourselves. We want to be close to home, but not so close that they can strike at us. It’s difficult.’

‘They’ll be watching for you,’ Dražeta agreed. ‘But Romania is a possibility.’

At points, the Danube narrowed to as little as 150 meters between Romania and Serbia. It was easy to move people between the two countries.

‘No,’ said Radovan, ‘relations between Bucharest and Belgrade are too good right now. If we’re found on Romanian soil, we’ll be handed over without a second thought.’

‘Hungary?’

‘Fucking Orbán has Belgrade in his pocket.’

Dražeta did not even bother suggesting Bulgaria. The Serbs had long moved narcotics through Sofia, but conflict with the Bulgarians over the lucrative Balkan route was ongoing. If the Vuksans were not immediately targeted by their own kind, the Bulgarians would be happy to do the job for them.

Dražeta noticed that Spiridon Vuksan was not contributing.

‘You’re quiet, ćale,’ he said, using the Serbian term of affection meaning ‘papa’. During his time in uniform, Spiridon had liked to believe that his men viewed him as a father figure. No one had ever worked up the courage to disabuse him of this notion.

It was Radovan who answered.

‘My brother does not like skulking,’ he said. ‘It is against his nature. He believes we should return with our flag raised, like Peter the Liberator.’

‘The longer we hide,’ said Spiridon, ‘the weaker we appear.’

‘The longer we hide,’ said Radovan, ‘the longer we live.’

Spiridon drained the brandy.

‘My brother is an old woman,’ he said to Dražeta, ‘and the only battles he fights are with his purse. I’m going to bed.’