“Do you have any idea who might have hired her, or who wanted to kill Jack?” Adara asked.
“The only reason why I agreed to meet with you, and allow you to interview her, was to find the answers to both of those questions. My office has limited resources, and unfortunately, we’ve reached a dead end.”
Or you’re trying to find out what we know because you’re on the same payroll as her,Dom thought.And if you are, Detective Oblak, your life is at risk now, too.
But trying to guess Oblak’s motives was a losing game. Dom decided to throw the dice.
“Have you ever heard of the Iron Syndicate?” Dom asked.
Oblak shook his head. “No. What is it?”
Dom was pretty good at catching people lying. But so were most cops. Which was why cops were harder to catch at lying than just about anybody else, even other cops. Maybe Oblak knew more than he was letting on, but there was no way to tell from his body language.
“We don’t know much. It’s an international criminal enterprise. There’s a very weak link between Iliescu and that organization. A friend-of-a-friend kind of thing.”
“I can call my intelligence unit and put in an inquiry. Why would this Iron Syndicate want to kill Jack Ryan?”
“That’s what we came here to ask her about.” Dom looked at the corpse. “And she ain’t talking.”
“My advice to you, then, is to retrace her steps. She told us she had come from Trieste, which we have since confirmed. I can get you her address there.” Oblak pulled up his phone to forward it.
“I don’t want to step on any Italian toes,” Dom said. Italian cops were as touchy as anybody else about outsiders intruding on their turf.
Oblak shrugged. “The coroner is driving up from Ljubljana. That means he won’t be performing the autopsy until later this afternoon. Legally, I’m not required to issue a notice of death to the Italian government until the cause of death is confirmed. Depending on the bloodwork, that might be as late as tomorrow morning.”
Dom’s phone dinged. He checked it. Iliescu’s Trieste address. If they left now, they could be there within the hour. Plenty of time to snoop around the place before the Italian police would even know they’d been there.
Interesting.
“That’s awfully generous of you, Detective.”
“Consider it a professional courtesy.”
Yeah, or a setup,Dom thought. He was glad that Gavin had issued them untraceable phones, since Oblak had his number.
“I’ve handed out a few ‘professional courtesies’ myself over the years. I usually attach a string or two.”
“You want to know my motive? I’ll make it simple. I’m a patriot. I love my country as much as you love yours. Slovenia has survived countless occupations since the time of the Caesars, and yet we are still here. We know who we are. One people, one language.” He glanced back at the corpse. “Now that we’re part of the EU, our borders are open, and anyone can cross them, including our enemies, and I’m powerless to stop it.Worse, I don’t have the authority to cross those same borders and prevent it. It’s a one-way street, and I don’t care for it.”
“So you’re using us to do your dirty work.”
Oblak smiled. “One courtesy begets another. So my ‘string’ is that if you find out anything about this Iron Syndicate or this woman’s connection to it, I want to be informed.”
“Fair enough. And maybe you’ll let us know about the cause of death, and the time you call it in to the Italians.”
“Fair enough.”
Dom extended his hand. So did Adara. They shook. “We’ll be in touch, Detective.”
“And tell your large friend in the van to mind his speed limit. We’re much more strict about that sort of thing in Slovenia than they are in Italy.”
Dom hid his surprise. He didn’t think they’d been under surveillance.
—
That’s a good start,Dom thought, as he climbed into the van.
Or maybe Oblak was just handing them over to his Iron Syndicate connection in Italy, waiting to find a way to throw them off the trail, or worse.