Cano had not been promoted to the position of Skender’s head of security just because he was as ruthless as he was intelligent. Cano also displayed qualities of initiative whereas other subordin -ates were afraid to make any decision without first clearing it with the master. Allowing a level of free thinking from an indiv -idual within the ranks had its dangers but Skender appreciated its advantages and in any case Cano had proved his loyalty as well as an intuitive understanding of Skender’s methods over the years. It was the greatest single display of trust that Skender had bestowed on any individual but he was aware that such traumatic events as losing an eye and a brother in one afternoon and then to have the killer walk free might put a strain on Cano’s single-minded dedication to Skender. He would wait and see how things developed.
‘I think we have already found him,’ Cano said.
‘You have him?’ Skender asked curiously. A small warning bell went off in his head.
‘No,’ Cano said. ‘Not yet.’
Skender could not have cared less about the death of Cano’s brother or the loss of his eye. He was more concerned with the possible wider consequences of the recent deaths. He was confident of the position he had carved out for himself with the Federal government by turning in some old enemies, providing carefully selected snippets of information on some weapons-supply networks used by terrorists and dangling a big carrot in front of them with the promise of delivering up an al-Qaeda leader. But the stupid killing of the Englishwoman and then the deaths of Bufi and Ardian were problems he could do without.
If Ardian had not been Dren’s brother Skender would have had him and his moronic sidekick Bufi executed after they had killed the Englishwoman. It would have been a lesson to others. But if he had killed Ardian he would have had to kill Cano too since he would then have become an enemy. Skender had made that one concession to Cano but he would not allow another. Cano was possibly signing his own death warrant by pursuing his brother’s killer. Skender wondered if Cano understood that. Or was his anger and depression so great that he could think of nothing else but retribution?
‘You say you only think you know who was responsible?’ Skender asked.
‘Yes, but I will make sure.’
‘And do you think you know who he works for?’
‘I think he is working alone.’
‘Alone?’
‘You have seen him. At the district attorney’s office in Santa Monica. He was the man at the bottom of the stairs who attacked Vlen.’
Skender shook his head as if he did not remember although he had a vague image of the man in his head.
‘He was in the restaurant when Ardian was killed,’ Cano went on. ‘He ran off seconds before the explosion. He’s an Englishman. A secretary in the DA’s office remembered an Englishman asking about an English woman’s death in Venice a week ago. And one of our cops, Draper, down at the Santa Monica Police Depart -ment, described the same guy asking about the case.’
Skender remembered the Englishman who had telephoned him. ‘This cop, Draper, he told this Englishman it was Ardian and Leka?’
‘No. He told him nothing.’
‘Then how’d he find out?’
‘I don’t know.’
Skender thought on that for a moment as he stared into Cano’s eyes. The Englishman had no doubt got Skender’s phone number from the same source who had given him the names. That had to be a pretty high-up source. ‘Why do you think he isn’t connected to anyone?’
‘This was a revenge killing.’
‘How would he know it was your brother who killed that Englishwoman if he’s not connected with someone who would know?’
‘I’ve no idea. But he ain’t business. He don’t even live in this country. He came over because the Englishwoman was killed and the next thing is Bufi gets taken out and then my brother.’
‘And so he just happens to find out and marches into the Santa Monica courts, through a dozen cops, kills Bufi in his cell, escapes, then kills your brother right in front of you – and you think he’s just an ordin ary guy.’
‘Okay, so maybe he’s got talent. My point is, he’s not connected to us. This wasn’t about business. Look, boss, I know how sensitive things are right now. I’m not about to do anything stupid. Let me find out who he is, then I’ll come to you with what I’ve got.’
‘You know where he is?’
‘No, but I have an idea how to find out. I want this guy, boss. I’ve never asked you for anything before, but I’m asking now. It’s the Kanun of our fis. It’s the Kanun.’
Skender walked away and stood looking into space while Cano watched him. Skender’s immediate impulse was to have Cano killed as soon as possible and end it there. But deep down he knew only too well the meaning of retribution for wrongs committed against one’s family. The Kanun was a set of norms that constituted the Albanian syndicate’s common law, a code that had been in place for centuries and was used by all the fis or tribes. It was the blood-bond that held the Albanians together and made them so much more dangerously different from other nationalities in the same business. Skender could not ignore it for it was in his own blood.
Strangely, while listening to Cano, especially the part about his new nemesis being an Englishman, Skender had been reminded of his own youth, for it was a man from that country who had been responsible for the destruction of his entire family. Skender was from the Geg tribe who occupied the mountainous regions of Northern Albania. Unlike most of his current peers, Skender’s family had not been linked to crime but were strongly political. They’d been followers of Zog, the ousted King of the Albanians.
When Mussolini invaded Albania in 1939 the King had fled to England. Geg chieftains, one of whom was Skender’s father, organised an anti-communist royalist group and in 1952, a few years after Skender was born, the King, whose son Skender was named after, joined a plot organised by the US and Britain to help the loyalists overthrow the Albanian communist government that had by then taken power.
Hundreds of Albanian émigrés and refugees were recruited, many by Skender’s father, and infiltrated back into Albania for the coming fight. However, the plot was revealed to the commun -ists by the infamous British double agent Kim Philby. Practically every Albanian infiltrator and many of the Geg tribe, including Skender’s parents, were brutally murdered.
Skender was barely six years old on the morning when the killers came to his village. There had been no warning. No one was to escape death, no matter what their sex or age. Skender remembered waking up to the noise of screams and gunfire. He climbed out of the bed he shared with his older brother and two sisters and ran to the window to see what was happening. The first sight he saw was the woman who lived across the road being dragged outside with her three children after her husband had already been shot. Skender watched in horror as they were killed by a combination of rifle fire and sword thrusts.
Seconds later the front door to his own house was kicked open and more gunfire erupted. They killed Skender’s mother first and as his father rushed out of the back room with his gun raised he was cut down by a volley of fire from several government soldiers. Then came the sound of someone running up the stairs. Skender reacted instinctively. He jumped up onto the windowsill and pulled himself over it. As he hung on to the window frame the bedroom door burst open and shots rang out. A bullet smashed through the window and Skender let go to land hard on the small roof along the front of the house before rolling off and hitting the dirt road.