Fly Hunter: The Story of an Inquisitor - страница 48

– If necessary, I’m ready! – Aman-Jalil responded seriously.

– Ready is good! – Arif smirked.

Aman-Jalil looked Arif straight in the eyes, not averting his gaze, with devoted and serious readiness. Arif took a bottle of whiskey from his suitcase, opened it, and poured it into glasses.

– With ice or will you dilute it with water?

– To be honest with you, dear guest, I’ve never drunk this whiskey, I can’t know! – Aman-Jalil admitted honestly.

– Ice is better, throw in a couple of cubes! – advised Arif, pushing a bowl of crushed ice towards Aman-Jalil.

All these preparations foretold a long conversation. Aman-Jalil was ready for it, and Arif wasn’t in a hurry, waiting for something, sizing up, appraising… He took out a bar of Swiss chocolate, broke it into pieces, so hospitably offered it to Aman-Jalil that his legs started to feel cold.

– Well, tell me! – Arif quietly suggested.

– What do you wish to know? – Aman-Jalil agreed readily.

– How you killed Sardar Ali and the witnesses?..

Aman-Jalil’s vision darkened and his breath caught. "Death, death!" – pounded in his temples. He decided to go all-in.

– You, comrade, are obviously interested in the details?

– Not the details. Everything!… Who ordered it… well, you know everything yourself, – Arif grumbled angrily, lighting a cigar with a golden band "Havana."

– Sardar Kareem conducted his own investigation into Ahmed’s affairs, and Ahmed instructed me to deal with him. We didn’t intend to kill him, just wanted to squeeze his throat… I succeeded, you saw the photos, they’re genuine, but Sardar Kareem didn’t give up, rushed into the Emir’s palace. As you understand, if he had managed to pass the papers through Nadir to Iosif Besarionis, our one and only father and teacher, Ahmed would have been finished, and hence, me even earlier. No need to tell you, comrade, but this couldn’t be allowed. We were lucky. Nadir wasn’t home. We kept an eye on Sardar Ali all the time and got rid of him quietly: we rented rooms nearby, and in the morning, when he settled down and fell asleep, unlocked the door, chloroformed his face so he wouldn’t scream, and threw him out the window into the courtyard. A painless death, like in a dream.

– Why did you get rid of the helpers?

– One of them looked into Sardar’s papers, understood everything, he wasn’t a fool. Together with him, we had to remove three more.

– Not two? We only found two with him.

– The pilot of Ahmed’s private jet as well.

– Why him?

– We flew there as three, I flew back alone… He would have figured everything out as soon as he read the newspaper, we have universal literacy.

Arif looked intently at Aman-Jalil.

– Are we being listened to?

– No, boss, I removed all the recording equipment myself, expecting this conversation.

– Then listen carefully, your answer depends on my decision: did you destroy those papers?

– Am I crazy?

– Does Ahmed know about them?

– No!

Arif smiled for the first time.

– I wasn't wrong about you. Keep them ready, when I'm leaving, bring them to the train. You can tell Ahmed that you convinced me of his loyalty to Iosif Besarionis, dispelled all doubts, destroyed all slander and libel.

– Ahmed will be pleased!

– I think so!… Listen, how do you feel about Iosif Besarionis? Many people don't like him.

– The word of the leader is my law! His smile is a reward! If he says: "Kill your brother!" – I'll kill him.