Maxwell shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. That’s not our problem.”
“Suicide or not, Rumi washed for the Russians.” I began piecing everything together. “He dies, they’re looking for who did it, but most importantly, they need their money cleaned. They go to Darryl because his name is all over the records.”
“I told you not to do that.” Xavier coughed into his hand.
“If I didn’t have Darryl connected to the businesses, Rumi would’ve bothered him or worse.”
And then Xavier went into what we liked to call his preacher mode. “Darryl didn’t have to fucking work for Rumi in the first place, and you damn sure didn’t have to clean up his messes. You should have stayed out of the whole situation with Darryl and Rumi years ago, but you can’t because you like to be the big sister to the rescue. And now look at where you are? You thought you’d created a solution back in the day, but what you did was build a trap around you.”
“Thanks for the positivity, X, but I need answers, not advice that I won’t listen to anyway.”
“Stubborn.” He took another puff of his joint.
“If he put cameras in there, I can’t turn them off, but I at least want to know where they are.”
Smoke left Xavier’s lips. “The easiest way to detect hidden cameras is checking around the place carefully. An inch-by-inch search to find the obvious ones. Those men were in and out your place in less than ten minutes, which meant they probably put the cameras in everyday devices—smoke detectors, electrical outlets, stuffed teddy bears, edge of table tops, shelves. Listen as you walk through the place. Some hidden motion-sensing surveillance cameras make an almost inaudible buzz when in use.”
Max chimed in. “Definitely don’t make it obvious that you’re looking. Pretend to clean up or something.”
I nodded.
Xavier continued, “When I used to install shit like this for most guys, they never really loaded up the perp’s bedroom or bathroom with cameras. Most wanted a focus on the living room. People do business in there. Meet with police and rival gangs in there. That’s what these Russians are watching you for, making sure your ass doesn’t get stupid and try to get help.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “You’re right. Last time the Chinese didn’t put anything in my bathroom or bedroom. That makes sense.”
“Bathroom causes problems for surveillance. Your place has a small one too. Shower steam could fuck it up. If they put something there, it’s in the door knob.” Xavier made the sign of a cross. “If that knob hole now looks like a tiny cross opening in the center, there’s a camera there.”
I wrote everything down in my head.
“For the bedroom, turn off the lights.” Xavier tapped the ash off his joint. “I used to install night vision security cameras for that shady hotel on Merker Street. Back in the day, when the owner like to have shit on people. Some creepy hotel managers still put a camera in their customers’ rooms.”
“That’s fucking crazy.” Maxell frowned.
“People are crazy.” Xavier turned back to me. “Either way, all you do is turn off the lights, most hidden security cameras have red or green LEDs. The LEDs will blink or shine, when in low-light conditions.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Xavier glared at me. “Leave this whole situation alone.”
“What do you want me to do? Darryl’s my brother, I love him. I take care of him. Anybody who can’t get that shouldn’t be fucking with me.”
Xavier rolled his eyes. “I don’t invite you all to my happy abode. You two come over here bringing mess my way.”
Max raised his hands. “Okay. Okay. Let’s stay on track, guys.”
I stirred. “I don’t like them watching me. I want to do what we did with the Chinese and put a bug on the top guy—”
“Are you fucking crazy?” Max asked. “You want to track the leader.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “He seems like the type to come into a person’s place without knocking. The last thing I need is him sitting in my kitchen one morning when I wake up.”
Xavier finished his joint. “That shit would be dangerous, if he ever found out.”
“Then, we make sure he doesn’t find out.” I looked at Max. “Have you found anything on Kazimir?”
“Shit. Have I found anything on him?” Max laughed. “The motherfucker’s reputation proceeds him. People call him the Russian Lion. I did a search and several FBI sites came up. He’s considered the number seven most dangerous person in the world.”
Fear hit my heart, but I pushed it away. “Well, at least he’s not number one.”
“He’s suspected of heading Bratva which is involved in anything you can think of—diamond and arms dealing, credit card fraud, cyber-crime, drugs, prostitution. Anything you can think of, his group does it.”
“Group.” Xavier laughed. “You make it sound like a club of dainty women. It’s the fucking Russian mafia. They have no qualms about murdering people. If they have to kill you, they kill you.”
Max continued, “He’s not even supposed to be in America. There’s a huge reward for any sighting or information on him, which is not an option for us because I bet he has FBI agents on his payroll—”
“And probably the NYPD,” Xavier added. “There’s no way Rumi committed suicide. The bastard loved himself too much. Sounds like dirty cops in the mix, covering shit up.”
Max began to pace by the brick wall. “I think it’s a good time to get out of here. We saved up some money. Let’s just leave New York.”
Max always wants to run. Scaredy cat.
It had taken him a month to walk through the tunnels without jumping at rats and screaming in fear. It was a whole year before he would even walk through them by himself, and even now he wasn’t excited about taking them.
I shook my head. “We saved up twenty thousand. That’s not shit for us to live on forever. Where are we going? We’ve never left New York. And what are you going to do, be a bag boy at a grocery store? Our skills aren’t résumé-worthy. And besides, they have Darryl. I’m not leaving New York without Darryl.”
“Darryl put himself into this shit.” Xavier put the tiny burnt out joint in his pocket. “Why don’t you let him get himself out.”
Maxwell said nothing.
“We don’t know if Darryl put himself in this or not, and it doesn’t matter,” I said. “He’s my brother. I’ll protect him to the end.”
“I’m glad he’s your brother because I’m not in this.” Xavier rose from the steps and turned to go back inside his bus. “You both let me know how it works out, if you don’t end up dead.”
“X, I need you, please.”
He kept his back to me. “What do you need?”
“Just a little tracker job.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Max said. “If this Russian is hiding from the FBI and fucking Interpol, he would probably not appreciate someone tracking him.”
“He started it,” I said. “He probably has surveillance over my place. People probably went all in my apartment and touched my things. I just want to put something on him to keep track of where he is until this is done.”