The Witness

representative from Child Services present while they talk to you, if your mother hasn’t arrived by that time. Your cooperation is voluntary, Liz, but—”
    “I could be held as a material witness. It won’t be necessary. I have to cooperate, I have to testify. Will you tell me if the Volkovs are Russian Mafia?”
    “What we believe and what we can prove—”
    “I want to know what you believe,” Elizabeth interrupted. “I think I should know my situation. I may be a minor, legally, but I’m not a child. I have an IQ of two hundred and ten, and excellent comprehension skills. I know I behaved foolishly, but I’m not foolish. I understand if I witnessed murders carried out on orders of what would be the
pakhan
—the boss—I’m a target. If I testify, Korotkii or one like him will do whatever can be done to stop me. Even after I testify, and particularly if my testimony leads to convictions, I’ll be a target. In retribution.”
    She paused, took a sip of Coke right from the can. Amazing.
    “I was impaired last night—this morning, more accurately. From drinking, being sick, then from shock. I didn’t fully assess the situation.But I have now. If the Volkovs are simply very bad men, a loosely formed gang of thugs and criminals, it’s a difficult situation. If they are organized crime, if they are Red Mafia, it’s much more. I want to know.”
    She watched the two deputies exchange a look.
    “Once I’m able to access a computer,” Elizabeth added, “I’ll be able to research and find the answer for myself.”
    “I bet you could,” John murmured. “We believe—hell, we know—the Volkovs are organized crime. We know they’re heavily involved in weapons and human trafficking, in computer fraud—a specialty—in protection, theft, drugs. They’re a wide-reaching organization, with considerable legitimate—or legitimate enough—interests, such as nightclubs, restaurants, strip joints and real estate. Law enforcement’s been able to peck away a bit, but the hierarchy hasn’t been touched. We know Korotkii is Sergei Volkov’s mechanic—his hit man. But we’ve never been able to pin him.”
    “He liked killing Alex. He felt great contempt for Alex. With Julie … killing Julie annoyed him. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m sorry, I can’t finish the food.”
    “It’s okay.”
    She looked down at her hands for a moment, then back up into John’s eyes. “I won’t be able to go back to Harvard. I won’t be able to go home again. If I testify, I’ll have to go into the Witness Protection Program. Isn’t that what will happen?”
    “You’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” Terry told her.
    “I always think ahead. I didn’t last night, and there was a terrible price. Would I be able to go to another university, under another name?”
    “We could make that work,” John said. “We take good care of our witnesses, Liz. You can look that up on the computer, too.”
    “I will. They don’t know who I am. I mean to say I only told Ilya my first name. He only knew Liz—and really it’s always been Elizabeth. And I … before we went to the club, I cut and dyed my hair. I don’t look like this.”
    “Like the hair,” Terry said. “It’s a good look for you.”
    “I look very different. Last night with makeup, and the dress, the hair, I looked very different than I did. Maybe there’s a way to give testimony without them finding out who I am. I know it’s a slim chance, but I’d like to try to believe that. For now, anyway.”
    Terry shifted as her cell phone beeped. She pulled it from the case on her belt. “Norton. Yeah. Copy that.”
    She replaced the phone. “They’re bringing your mom in.”
    “All right.” Rising, Elizabeth took her plate to the sink. “I’ll do the dishes.”
    “I’ll give you a hand,” John said.
    “No. If you don’t mind, I’d like a little time alone before my mother gets here.”
    “Sure.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be all right, Liz.”
    She only nodded and kept her hands busy, out of sight. So no one could see them tremble.
    By the time the plainclothes officers brought her mother to the door, she felt she had herself under control. In the sparsely furnished living room, Elizabeth got to her feet as Susan came in. One look told her the apology she’d practiced would be far from adequate.
    “For God’s sake, Elizabeth, what have you done to your hair?”
    “I …” Thrown off balance, Elizabeth