‘To start with,’ I said, sitting across from Carl and Officer Marks, ‘he’s a she.’
Carl nearly spat out his coffee. Marks’s eyes widened. Clearly neither man had any idea they were dealing with a woman.
‘Are you sure?’ Carl asked.
A smile tugged at my lips. ‘I think the surgeon would not mistake that detail. She is Vesa Leka, a vaudeville transfigurator until a few months ago.’
I watched Marks’s expression closely when I said her name. It meant nothing to him. I began to think Vesa Leka might be wrong … just possibly, Marks really was what he claimed to be – a Macedonian who happened to read Serbian. The similarity of the two names could be coincidence. Yet if that was the case, would he have shot the unarmed person? He knew the person on the ground was responsible for killing his comrades. But did he make the connection to the Albanian farm family? Did he know who she was? I didn’t think so.
‘Vesa is a girl’s name,’ observed Marks without emotion.
I nodded, wishing I’d known that tidbit earlier. ‘I told them I was her cousin, so I could stay close.’
‘Good thinking,’ said Carl. ‘The locals aren’t too happy with Marks and me right now. Did you learn anything?’
I took a deep breath. ‘I sure did. Vesa Leka is out to avenge her Albanian family who was murdered back in 1912 during the war over there. That was the war that came before the Great War. Five men, all Serbian army deserters, came to their farm, raped her and her mother, and killed her whole family. She alone survived.’ I watched Marks’s face as I spoke and saw recognition flush his face. His eyes widened and he gave a soft cry. Carl mistook it for horror. I knew better. He was Stefan Markovitch. No doubts remained. I wanted to spit on him.
‘Sometimes I think war is worse hell for civilians than it is for soldiers,’ Carl said with a shake of his head. ‘Law and order is the first victim. When that disappears, the strongest man with the biggest gun gets away with doing whatever he wants to because there’s no police, no jails, no courts, no consequences.’ And his own army experience in France during the Great War was, I knew, the reason he had decided not to return to the farm but to become a cop.
I went on. ‘The five men also murdered two officers who had come looking for them. Vesa Leka learned the names of the deserters from papers one of the officers was carrying. She hadn’t come to America to search for the deserters; it just happened that she recognized one in a vaudeville audience while she was performing in New York City one day and followed him to his restaurant and shot him. His funeral led her to find the others, one by one. Her training allowed her to shoot and change her appearance so quickly that she was never caught.’
‘How did you know she was coming to San Francisco?’ Carl asked.
‘I didn’t know. I found out from Barbara Petrovitch that one of the five soldiers was living here – Paul Pavlovitch – and I came to see what I could learn from him. And to warn him, of course. Vesa Leka wormed her way into Barbara’s confidence and has been tracking our investigation all along. I had no idea she was following me. I led her straight to him. I feel like a chump.’
Carl reached over and squeezed my shoulder for reassurance. ‘So we know about four of the men she killed. Did she get the fifth too?’
‘No. She doesn’t know where he is, only his name. And she knows she won’t be able to track him down now.’
‘We heard she was going to die.’
I stole a glance at Marks. He was staring at his hands like someone who wasn’t paying attention, but I could almost see his ears stretch toward our conversation.
‘Well, that’s old news. She looked to be in pretty bad shape when she came in, but luckily, Marks’s bullets missed the main organs, and the doctor was able to repair the critical damage. She’s stronger already. I don’t pretend to understand the medical details … but now it looks like she’ll go to trial after all.’
‘And hang for four murders. Or spend the rest of her life in prison.’ Clearly, he believed the former outcome more likely.
I nodded. ‘But her testimony will come out at the trial, of course, and while she won’t be able to track down the fifth deserter, all that publicity will shine a spotlight on him. You know the newspapers in New York, St. Louis, Los Angeles, and here will play up the story like mad – she’ll become a national sensation. After all, she has a very sympathetic tale to tell. And she plans to start telling it now. The public will eat it up raw. She wants me to arrange for a reporter from the Chronicle and the Examiner to come to the hospital as soon as the sun’s up. Someone, somewhere is bound to know him.’
Carl gave this some thought before adding, ‘He may not be in this country. Hell, he may not be alive.’ I noted with some satisfaction that the man-who-might-not-be-alive was wringing his hands.
‘If he is alive, could he be tried for those murders?’ I asked, hoping to pour salt in the wound.
‘Not in America,’ said Carl. ‘There’s always a possibility that he could be arrested and shipped back to Serbia for justice there. Slim, I grant you, but a possibility. They’d probably shoot him for desertion before they bothered about any civilian deaths, though. That’s the way war works, I’m afraid.’ He sighed and checked the clock on the wall. ‘I guess there’s nothing more we can do here.’
‘You’re right. Vesa Leka isn’t going anywhere. There’s a policeman built like an icebox guarding the door to Room 7 and a night nurse keeping watch on the hall. The doctor has gone home. All the other third-floor patients seem to be asleep. Me, I’m going to faint from hunger. The nurse told me there was an all-night diner around the corner. What say we head there for some early breakfast?’
Carl considered my proposal. ‘It’ll be daylight in a few hours, and the southbound express leaves at eight. We could eat, and then go straight to the station. Marks, you and I could be home this evening.’
Marks spoke up. ‘What about our guns?’
‘The San Francisco police confiscated them,’ he said in response to my questioning look. Then he turned back to Marks. ‘They’re not going to give them back to us today, that’s for sure. They’ll probably ship them back to headquarters when they’re good and ready. We don’t need them now.’ Carl stood, stretched, and yawned. ‘You coming with us, Jessie?’
‘To the diner, but not on the train. As long as I’m in San Francisco, I think I’ll spend some time with my grandmother and come home in a day or two.’
I stood. Officer Marks remained in his wooden chair, a vacant stare in his eyes. He was, I knew, ruined. He knew it too. The thought gave me a thrill of satisfaction. His best hope now was to vanish, but would he? As soon as the newspapers got hold of Vesa Leka’s story and the additions to it that I intended to make, his respectable job with the Los Angeles police would be over. He’d have to change his name and move to another state. Maybe another country. Canada or Mexico, perhaps. Or somewhere in South America. In one sense, he’d escape justice, but he’d never land safely anywhere. He would be forever isolated, looking over his shoulder, unable to mingle with the decent Serb immigrant communities where he would be despised for having deserted their army and for killing his officers. Living alone, without family or friends or familiar surroundings, would be its own kind of verdict. And that was his best hope. There was always the chance that he could be shipped back to Serbia for trial. But I was pulling for a third ending to this sordid drama.
‘I’m more tired than hungry,’ said Marks, his eyes fixed on his shoes. ‘I’m going to the station and sleep on a bench until the train comes.’
Carl nodded. I smiled, and we left the hospital.
The all-night diner served a limited menu after midnight, but the breakfast special appealed to us both. A waitress poured us strong coffee and jotted down our order for the cook. Too tired to chatter, I cradled my coffee cup and tested various bits of opening dialogue in my head. Carl wasn’t going to like this – he was the sort of man who put a high price on honesty. I realized how much I valued his good opinion, now that I was about to lose it. He deserved the truth at the first possible moment, but I stalled, thinking it prudent to wait until our food came, and then convincing myself to get a few bites into my stomach in case the meal was interrupted. When I swallowed the last mouthful of potatoes, I knew I’d run out of excuses.
‘So, Carl,’ I said, fixing my gaze on the knot in his tie. ‘Something happened that you should know about.’ I paused for him to make a comment, but he was a man of no unnecessary words. I could feel him tense.
‘Well, okay, here it is. Everything I said about Vesa Leka wasn’t exactly true. Most things were, but not every single thing.’
Still no comment from Carl. It was time to rip the adhesive tape off with one quick motion.
‘For one thing, she knows who the fifth deserter is. He’s here in San Francisco. He followed us. His name was Stefan Markovitch. Now it’s Steve Marks.’
As I watched, Carl turned his thoughts inward. His brown eyes stared through me, unseeing, as if he’d been sitting alone at the table. He was, I knew, sifting through what I’d said, analyzing it piece by piece, the way he did everything. I knew he’d fitted enough of the puzzle pieces into place when he gave a low cry and leapt to his feet, his eyes snapped into focus.
‘He’s going to kill her. Before she has the chance to talk to the reporters. It’s the only way he can save himself. You knew who he was! What he was capable of! Why in hell did you tell him that?’
He fumbled in his wallet for money and threw two dollars on the Formica table.
‘Wait. There’s more.’
‘No time.’ He threw on his jacket and bolted toward the door, leaving me no choice but to follow. We moved so fast I was sure the waitress would take us for eat-and-run dodgers.
‘Listen,’ I gasped as I ran along side of him, our footsteps echoing eerily on the damp pavement. ‘Vesa Leka is not going to recover. The bullets tore up a couple of organs. She’s dying. Very soon. The only weapon she has left is her life. She is luring him to her room. She wants him to kill her. Then he’ll be charged with her murder. That’s how she’ll get her revenge.’
We were too late. Two police cars blocked the hospital entrance where lights blazed. Hospital staff were milling helplessly about the admitting area. Marks was nowhere to be seen.
And Vesa Leka was dead.