Page 60 of Sigma

“To understand you.”

A frown. “Understand me.” He says this as if chewing on the concept, as if it were an alien notion. “His name is Bruno. He was a deputy in my operation based out of Albania. He came up through the ranks—he was a runner, an errand boy. He did well, and moved up to a position of some authority. He showed himself to be trustworthy.”

“What kind of operation?”

A pause. “Opiates of various kinds. Moving it from production to distribution—he ran the warehouse where the product was sent out for distribution to the local kingpins in Asia, Russia, and a handful of African localities.”

“Drugs.”

“A cash cow for my more favored businesses.”

I snort. “Right.”

He narrows his eyes. “You judge.”

“Drugs kill people. Kids, mothers, fathers. They destroy lives.”

“They will not ever disappear from our world, Corinna. When I run the business, I do so with a minimum of violence, and we prevent sales to children. It does not make it better, but it is something.”

“So why get into it at all?”

A shake of his head. “A conversation for another time.” A wave of his hand. “You wished to know about Bruno.”

“True.”

“I placed him in charge of many others. He had authority. I paid him very well. He could not do better with a university degree and twenty years of experience in a legal sector.” A sigh. “I discovered he was skimming.”

“Stealing, you mean?”

A nod. “Complicatedly, but yes. Having his men charge more for the product than I have authorized and keeping the difference. As if I would not know.” A long, low sound, almost like a growl. “This was bad enough. But this, I could forgive. Stop stealing, do a job without the authority. Earn my trust again. I would not have had to punish him. Not through the use of pain, at least.”

I frown. “He was stealing. You wouldn’t have had him locked up and beaten for that?”

“I am not a monster, Corinna. Such things are a last resort for the worst of offenses.”

“So what was his offense that landed him in your dungeon, beaten half to death?”

“How he was using the money.”

“Which was?”

He sighs. “Girls.”

“Like, prostitutes?”

A bob of his head. “That would not be a problem for me—if he wishes to pay for his sex, it is not any business of mine, as long as it is consensual.” Another pause. “No, he wastrafficking…ingirls. Not women, but girls. He was part of a ring of detestable degenerates with a taste for children. When I discovered what he was doing, I ran my own little sting. One by one, I…dealt with…his compatriots. In this, I was not so peaceable.” His eyes met mine. “These men, I did kill.”

“But not Bruno?”

A shake of his head. “I have evidence he is part of a larger operation. He has been reluctant to speak of it, and I have been…convincing him.”

“Why not take it to the authorities?”

“Because they will be too slow, and too politic. Such evil does not deserve the justice of the legal system. They deserve slow, painful deaths, which I am all too pleased to provide. Bruno is a key to this. That day during dinner, he had finally decided he would cooperate. He coughed, and some of the blood on his lips splattered onto me. I never touched him.”

“What are you doing with him now that he’s cooperating?”

“Once I’ve gotten all of the use out of him, I will turn him in to the authorities with plenty of anonymously provided evidence of his many wrong-doings. Once he is imprisoned, his taste for children will see to his demise, and my hands will be clean of his death.”