Trafika Europe 2 - Polish Nocturne

No exit alarms sounded when she headed outside into the storm gales.

I stepped onto the escalator. Petri was fingering long underwear patterned with hockey sticks. I walked over to him and murmured, “Tasteless. Wouldn’t allow those in my pack. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Seem to have left the path of good children.”

Petri did not lift his eyes from the long johns but he hissed, “What the hell are you babbling about?”

“I know how you stole the stuff. That blond bird is one of your mules and junkie Virtanen is another. He’s apparently Merja Salo-Virtanen’s son. Are you in debt for Paula Salo’s gravestone? Or just looking for the good life?”

The color drained from Petri’s face. “What do you know about Paula?” He was clearly struggling not to yell.

I bent over to whisper into his ear: “Paula chose death over life.”

“Who are you? Did Jansson send you? You can see I’m sticking to our deal. Another thousand euros’ worth of cam- eras just left in Milla’s bag. The debt will be paid off by Christmas. Then Jansson can go to hell. Tell him I said so!” Petri glared at me, his eyes burning with hatred.


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