“And I believe he was also an investor. He would have demanded some kind of financial stake. That is his way.”
Murphy let out a breath. “No wonder Jetta is so suspicious of the Russians.”
Rens waved a hand. “Jetta has never liked Oleg. He once tried to seduce her. That never goes well.”
“She’s a very direct woman.”
“That she is. But back to Livia. There were cases of Elixir found—some by Jean Desmarais and an associate—but others went missing. The formula was out. Rumors abounded.”
“You think Oleg took over after Livia? That he’s behind all this?”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“I don’t either.” Rens sipped his beer. “But I cannot tell you why.”
Murphy leaned over the table. “What do you know, Rens?”
“Know?” The vampire shrugged. “Nothing. Suspect? Many things.”
“Such as?”
“I believe Oleg took the missing cases.”
“To do what? You said he wanted nothing to do with Livia. From what I know about him, he would have no interest in this drug.”
“But those cases were still his blood. And Oleg does not share his blood lightly. He had one mate—many years ago—and it was a nightmare, from what I’ve heard. He probably killed her. I imagine he only donated the blood because he thought he could make a substantial amount of money from the investment.”
Murphy said, “But then Livia’s scheme fell apart, and he discovered the truth.”
“Indeed,” Rens said. “He might not have done anything with it, but he would want the remainder of the Elixir under his control. In his mind, that drug was his.”
“That makes sense,” Murphy said. “What about distributors? Could any of them have had stock in transit that Vecchio and his allies were unaware of? Livia’s shipping interests were taken over by the new leadership in Rome.”
“Conti is not involved in this,” Rens said. “And neither were her previous distributors.”
“Why not?” The answer occurred to Murphy before Rens had a chance to answer. “Of course. It’s moving over water.”
“If Livia’s sales pitch had been successful,” Rens said, “then she would have no need to conceal the distribution of Elixir. She would have moved it by truck, along with her cosmetics. Possibly to the same vendors, even. But her sales pitch failed. So now whoever is making this must move it covertly.”
“And make it covertly.”
“But the ingredients are particular. Some of them are only grown commercially in southeastern Europe. That was the reason she chose Bulgaria.”
Murphy said, “Bulgaria pays some kind of tribute to Athens, doesn’t it?”
Rens shrugged. “In that part of the world, everyone pays some kind of tribute to Athens. It is… symbolic. They have little power.”
“What did Livia think of the council?”
“They were rivals, of course. But not only rivals.”
“Explain.”
Rens cocked his head. “Livia was mated to an ancient. She still saw the court at Athens as the most legitimate in Europe. She wouldn’t have worked in Bulgaria without their approval.”
“But Bulgaria isn’t on the Mediterranean.”
“No,” Rens said. “It has ports on the Black Sea—”
“And we come back to the Russians.”
“Yes.” Rens paused to drink his beer. “But I do not think the Russians are behind this.”
“Neither do I.” Murphy frowned. “But why not? Oleg had access to the initial production. Probably some investment in it. He has the money to fund it. Little to no scruples. And he would be able to move it out of the region without question. So why don’t I think he is behind all this?”
Rens’s eyes were calculating. “How much do you know about Oleg?”
“Personally? Not much. We’ve only met once.”
“You should ask your woman,” Rens said. “She knows more.”
Murphy froze. “Do you think so?”
“I’d gamble she knows the Russian better than most, not that either one would admit it.”
What was the Dutchman trying to say? Murphy schooled his features carefully, taking a long drink of his beer. It was bitter, and not only because of the hops.
“I’ll ask.” Murphy glanced at the clock on the wall. It was getting close to dawn, and he still needed to resolve things with Anne. “Will you be at the meeting on Friday?”
“I will. I look forward to annoying Leonor some more.” Rens sipped his own beer, his long ascetic face a careful mask, though Murphy could have sworn he saw laughter in the vampire’s eyes. “She only plays ignorant for Jean’s sake, you know?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Those two… they should really fuck and be done with it. They’ve been at each other’s throats for fifty years.”
Murphy rose to leave. “I think I’ll head back to Mayfair. Can my driver take you anywhere?”
“No thank you.” An enigmatic smile touched his lips. “Make sure to ask about Oleg. I believe your woman would have an… interesting perspective on the Russian.”
“I will.” Murphy walked to the hostess and gave her his driver’s number. Ozzie would need a few minutes to pull the car around.