Page 31 of Maxim

Bandstand. 8 PM. Margana.

This is the first time I’ve heard from her since we met and she gave me the USB drive. I’ve been through everything on the drive and while the emails clearly show something is going on, everything is in vague terms. It’s nothing that would stand up in court. Even the email addresses are throwaway ones.

The mayor is a sleazy asshole, but his associates are clearly smart enough not to use their actual names. Maybe a tech genius could hack into the emails and find out more, but I don’t have access to resources like that.

I have Micky, but he’s already way too involved. I can’t ask him to hack a private email address. It’s the kind of shit that would get him arrested. Auntie Lucia would lose it if Micky was locked up for cybercrimes. There’s no way I’m doing that to her - or him.

Until I have more concrete evidence to back up my suspicions, the story has stalled. It’s annoying but I’ll just have to keep digging.

Maybe Margana has something more for me this evening.

Chapter twenty-one

Nat

This late in the day, the park is quiet. A few people walk dogs in there or use it as a cut-through to the main street where many of the popular bars are, but by the time I reach the bandstand, I’m all alone.

I sit down on the same bench as last time. I’m a few minutes early, so there’s no sign of Margana, or whoever she is. Although I know she works for the mayor, I have no clue in what capacity. She’s not said and I haven’t asked.

Ten minutes crawl by as the sky gets darker. Lights located at intervals illuminate the pathways, but it’s getting dark. I’m not normally afraid of the dark but I feel like a sitting duck.

A lone female, all alone in a deserted park.

It’s a classic horror movie trope.

OK, so perhaps this is a bad idea. Have I been lured here for a reason?

Just as I’m about to say fuck it and leave, Margana appears. Like last time, she’s wrapped up in a coat and her hair is hidden under a headscarf. She looks like any other forgettable middle-aged woman. Even down to the sensible flats on her feet.

“I was just about to go,” I comment as she sits down beside me, her eyes flicking around the park nervously.

“Sorry, I thought I was being followed, so I took a longer route.”

“Followed?” The skin on the back of my neck prickles uncomfortably. I peer into the ever-deepening shadows beyond the bandstand, but there’s nothing there. “By who?”

Margana grips her small bag tightly, her knuckles white. She’s so tense I’m concerned she might snap like a brittle twig.

“I think the mayor knows I downloaded his emails. He’s been watching me more closely than usual.”

“Does your job not give you access to his emails?”

“Work ones, yes, but he left his laptop open one lunchtime and I accessed his private email account. I downloaded as many as I could.”

Her small frame hunches over like she’s trying to make herself invisible.

“Can you leave town? Go somewhere safe?” I don’t want anything to happen to her. No story is worth someone’s life.

“No. Nowhere is safe from him. He has a long reach.” It’s a cool evening but sweat soaks my underarms. From what Micky has found out about the mayor’s friend, Anatoly Uriov, I know she’s right.

“We shouldn’t meet again,” I tell her. “It’s not safe for either of us. Stick to email.”

“I know, but I needed to give you this.” She dips her hand in her pocket and retrieves another small USB drive. “I managed to download some more emails before he got suspicious. That’s all I can do. He doesn’t let me go in his office alone now.”

“Thank you.” I squeeze her hand as she passes me the drive. For a brief moment, she looks up. Her eyes are green. She must have been very beautiful once; I can see it in her delicate bone structure.

Now, though, she just looks exhausted, as if working for the mayor has nibbled away at her soul, leaving a desiccated shell behind.

“Make him pay, Natalya,” she says, her voice so low I can barely make out the words.

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