14
Tom detoured past the bridge in Vic’s Audi. Thinking time. Michael Bublé was singing Feeling Good on the radio. They’d got his number; then again, that was easily done.
It’s unlikely they want to meet me to discuss Natasha’s last words, he deliberated. Is Vlad motivated by money, family, revenge, or s*x? He’ll want two of those four. He had no idea who he was meeting. After all, any immigrant with a bit of bravado, one good suit, and an accent could call themselves mafia. But in three minutes’ time he would know who he was dealing with.
He pulled up to the valet parking area of the Four Seasons Hotel and headed swiftly to the lobby. He spotted two men sitting together in the empty lounge area of the lobby, each drinking coffee and reading a newspaper in Arabic. One man was bald, the
