He had just murdered an accomplice to countless crimes in the middle of his kitchen. But how easily could Morrison connect Igor to the mob? He said himself that he had little on Igor. There were rumours about his being a drug dealer for the Russians, but no real paper trail existed. Igor wasn’t going to be enough for Morrison, not like this. I needed more. All I had to go on was the missing money. The money would lead me to someone bigger than Igor. When they dealt with him, I would have something to trade Morrison that would connect all of the pieces. Igor sobbed, bent over the counter. He went on like that for five minutes. When he was finished, he dried his eyes on his sleeve and looked at Tatiana. “Stupid junkie,” he said. “Look where your mouth got you.” He walked away from the body, sat at the kitchen table, dialled a number into his cell phone, and waited. “I need to see you,”
