The guard squatted down beside him. Seeing the grimace the guard made gave Maks a

measure of satisfaction, but that was all he was destined to receive in the way of solace.

“I have money,” Maks gasped weakly. “It’s buried in a safe place where no one will

find it. If you get me out of here, I’ll lead you to it. You can have half. That’s over half a million American dollars.”

This only made the guard angry. He struck Maks hard on his ear, making sparks fly

behind his eyes. His head rang with a pain that in anyone else would have been

unendurable. “Do you think I’m like you? That I have no loyalty?” He spat into Maks’s

face.

“Poor Maks, you made a grave error killing this boy. People like Pyotr Zilber never

forget. And they have the means to move heaven and earth to get what they want.”

“All right,” Maks whispered, “you can have it all. More than a million dollars.”

“Pyotr Zilber wants you dead, Maks. I came here to tell you that. And to kill you.” His

expression changed subtly. “But first.”

He extended Maks’s left arm, trod on the wrist, pinning it securely against the rough

concrete. He then produced a pair of thick-bladed pruning shears.

This procedure roused Maks from his pain-induced lethargy. “What are you doing?”

The guard grasped Maks’s thumb, on the back of which was a tattoo of a skull,

mirroring the larger one on his chest. It was a symbol of Maks’s exalted status in his

murderous profession.

“Besides wanting you to know the identity of the man who ordered your death, Pyotr

Zilber requires proof of your demise, Maks.”

The guard settled the shears at the base of Maks’s thumb, then he squeezed the handles

together. Maks made a gurgling sound, not unlike that of a baby.

As a butcher would, the guard wrapped the thumb in a square of waxed paper, snapped

a rubber band around it, then sealed it in a plastic bag.

“Who are you?” Maks managed to get out.

“My name is Arkadin,” the guard said. He opened his shirt, revealing a pair of

candlestick tattoos on his chest. “Or, in your case, Death.”

With a movement full of grace Arkadin broke Maks’s neck.

Crisp Alpine sunlight lit up Campione d’Italia, a tiny exquisite Italian enclave of two-

thirds of a square mile nestled within the clockwork-perfect setting of Switzerland.

Owing to its prime position on the eastern edge of Lake Lugano, it was both stupendously

picturesque and an excellent place to be domiciled. Like Monaco, it was a tax haven for

wealthy individuals who owned magnificent villas and gambled away idle hours at the

Casino di Campione. Money and valuables could be stored in Swiss banks, with their

justly famous reputation for discreet service, completely shielded from international law

enforcement’s prying eyes.

It was this little-known, idyllic setting that Pyotr Zilber chose for the first face-to-face meeting with Leonid Arkadin. He had contacted Arkadin through an intermediary, for

various security reasons opting not to contact the contract killer directly. From an early

age Pyotr had learned that there was no such thing as being too security-minded. There

was a heavy burden of responsibility being born into a family with secrets.

From his lofty perch on the overlook just off Via Totone, Pyotr had a breathtaking

panorama of the red-brown tile roofs of the chalets and apartment houses, the palm-lined

squares of the town, the cerulean waters of the lake, the mountains, their shoulders

mantled with capes of mist. The distant drone of powerboats, leaving frothy scimitars of

white wake, came to him intermittently while he sat in his gray BMW. In truth, part of his

mind was already on his imminent trip. Having gotten the stolen document, he had sent it

on the long journey along his network to its ultimate end.

Being here excited him in the most extraordinary way. His anticipation of what was to

come, of the accolades he would receive, especially from his father, sent an electric

charge through him. He was on the brink of an unimaginable victory. Arkadin had called

him from the Moscow airport to tell him that the operation had been successful, that he

had in his possession the physical proof Pyotr required.

He had taken a risk going after Maks, but the man had murdered Pyotr’s brother. Was

he supposed to turn his cheek and forget the affront? He knew better than anyone his

father’s stern dictum to keep to the shadows, to remain hidden, but he thought this one act of vengeance was worth the risk. Besides, he’d handled the matter via intermediaries, the

way he knew his father would have.

Hearing the deep growl of a car engine, he turned, saw a dark blue Mercedes come up

the rise toward the overlook.

The only real risk he was taking was going to happen right now, and that, he knew,

couldn’t be helped. If Leonid Arkadin was able to infiltrate Colony 13 in Nizhny Tagil

and kill Borya Maks, he was the man for the next job Pyotr had in mind. One his father

should have taken care of years ago. Now he had a chance to finish what his father was

too timid to attempt. To the bold belonged the spoils. The document he’d procured was

proof positive that the time for caution was at an end.

The Mercedes drew to a stop beside his BMW, a man with light hair and even lighter

eyes emerging with the fluidity of a tiger. He was not a particularly large man, he wasn’t

overmuscled like many of the Russian grupperovka personnel; nevertheless something

inside him radiated a quiet menace Pyotr found impressive. From a very young age Pyotr

had been exposed to dangerous men. At the age of eleven he had killed a man who had

threatened his mother. He hadn’t hesitated in the slightest. If he had, his mother would

have died that afternoon in the Azerbaijani bazaar at the hands of the knife-wielding

assassin. That assassin, as well as others over the years, had been sent by Semion

Icoupov, Pyotr’s father’s implacable nemesis, the man who at this moment was safely

ensconced in his villa on Viale Marco Campione, not a mile from where Pyotr and

Leonid Arkadin now stood.

The two men did not greet each other, did not address each other by name. Arkadin

took out the stainless-steel briefcase Pyotr had sent him. Pyotr reached for its twin inside the BMW. The exchange was made on the hood of the Mercedes. The men put the cases

down side by side, unlocked them. Arkadin’s contained Maks’s severed thumb, wrapped

and bagged. Pyotr’s contained thirty thousand dollars in diamonds, the only currency

Arkadin accepted as payment.

Arkadin waited patiently. As Pyotr unwrapped the thumb he stared out at the lake,

perhaps wishing he were on one of the powerboats slicing a path away from land. Maks’s

thumb had withered slightly on the journey from Russia. A certain odor emanated from it,

which was not unfamiliar to Pyotr Zilber. He’d buried his share of family and

compatriots. He turned so the sunlight struck the tattoo, produced a small magnifying

glass through which he peered at the marking.

At length, he put the glass away. “Did he prove difficult?”

Arkadin turned back to face him. For a moment he stared implacably into Pyotr’s eyes.

“Not especially.”

Pyotr nodded. He threw the thumb over the side of the overlook, tossed the empty case

after it. Arkadin, taking this to be the conclusion of their deal, reached for the packet

filled with diamonds. Opening it, he took out a jeweler’s loupe, plucked a diamond at

random, examined it with an expert’s aplomb.

When he nodded, satisfied as to the clarity and color, Pyotr said, “How would you like