“Jones?”
“Yes.”
“Delete this number from your phone. I’ll wait.”
Hannibal wasn’t sure what to think, but he complied right away.
“OK,” Hannibal said. “It’s gone.” Was this a way of saying he didn’t trust Hannibal to have his private phone number. Probably. But to take his word for it that he had in fact deleted the number was also an expression of trust.
“Good. I must say this little exercise has been fun. I begin to see why you found this Dani Gana character so interesting.”
“Is he really rich?”
“Could be,” Ronzini said. “My man at the Provident Bank says he opened his account with $256,000 from an account in Morocco.”
“Morocco?” Hannibal swerved to avoid a little Mini whose driver was in a great hurry to get up on the ramp to I-395. “I suppose an Algerian might keep his money there. Of course, so might a Russian mobster. I wonder if we can find out where the money was transferred from to get into the Moroccan account.”
“Not likely,” Ronzini said. “They’re a lot like the Swiss. The Arab Bank of Morocco holds a lot of oil money and a lot of sheik money. And they are very big. Whereas some banks boast of half a billion dollars in assets, the Arab Bank paid a half billion dollars in interest over the last nine months.”
Hannibal nodded. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, that tells me where his money came from.”
“Good, because it would take you weeks or months to get any more. And it’s too late for my man at Provident to get anything else.”
“Too late?” Hannibal asked. He stopped at a light behind three other cars. “I don’t understand.”
“The account is closed,” Ronzini said. “Gana withdrew the entire balance, in cash, just before the close of business yesterday afternoon.”
Hannibal explained his latest discoveries to Ivanovich in his office over a pot of fresh coffee. He had hung up his jacket, pulled off his tie, sunglasses and gloves, and rolled up his white shirt sleeves. Ivanovich moved to the visitor’s chair, leaving the desk chair for its actual owner. Hannibal could only hope that agreeable attitude would hold as he shared all he had learned that day. Once he had filled two big mugs with his Kenyan blend he turned down the booming heavy metal Ivanovich had started and gave him a thorough report. Ivanovich sat quietly.
“So, that’s it then,” Ivanovich said at last. “He has married her and taken her off to some mysterious place. It doesn’t sound as if he has made contact with any of his old friends and from what you’ve told me, even Mrs. Petrova has no idea where they’ve gone.”
“That’s about it,” Hannibal said. “He didn’t give us much time to investigate.” He watched Ivanovich shrink a little bit. He sat with his elbows on his thighs and his head dropped forward as he stared at the floor. To maintain perspective, Hannibal tried to imagine how many people this man had killed in his criminal career. It didn’t help. Without a gun in his hand, he no longer looked like a killer. All Hannibal could see was a man in despair. But that was Ivanovich’s problem. Hannibal had his own.
“Listen, Aleksandr, I think I have done all that you asked of me that first night. I feel like I’ve kept my part of the deal. How about calling your dogs off Cindy?”
Ivanovich looked up and Hannibal returned his gaze in the most nonthreatening way he could. In the sudden stillness, the speeding guitars seemed to kick into a higher gear. He didn’t know what was going on in the mind of this very dangerous man, but he knew he couldn’t push the subject.
“There is another bottle of vodka under the desk,” Ivanovich said. Hannibal rolled his eyes and reached for the bottle. When he thumped it on the desk, Ivanovich added, “You will want to celebrate.” He pulled a very slim cell phone out of his pocket, flipped it open, and pressed a button. When someone answered, he said something Hannibal could not hope to understand. Ivanovich nodded a couple of times, said a couple more words, and then closed the phone and put it away.
“I have told them that it is finished.”
“Thank you,” Hannibal said. He understood what Ivanovich had just given up. Now he was powerless. Hannibal poured into their two glasses, stood up, and handed one to the man who was now his guest instead of his captor. Ivanovich accepted the glass and took a small sip.
“Now, unless we are to have an Old West gunfight, I must ask you for a favor instead of making demands. It will be easier for me if I can stay just a little longer, until the sun is down.”
“I can live with that,” Hannibal said, grabbing his glass from the desk. He held it up. Ivanovich stood and tapped his glass against Hannibal’s. Then both men upended their glasses, draining the liquid down their throats. Hannibal clenched his eyes tight as it went down.
“Aleksandr, I want you to know that I understand why you did what you did,” Hannibal said. “In your spot I might have tried to blackmail someone the same way. And I really am sorry that I couldn’t get enough evidence of Gana’s game, whatever it is, to maybe take it to Mrs. Petrova before he disappeared with the girl. But now you need to let it go and get back to your life.”
“My life?” Ivanovich said it with a smirk. “What life? I am a hired killer. Everyone fears me. No one…” He didn’t finish the sentence, just dropped back in the chair, looking past Hannibal. “Do you know how far this has gone? Just how damaged have I become?”
Hannibal didn’t have the answer to that one, but he could see that the scars on this man’s soul ran very deep.
“Hey listen, Aleksandr, why don’t I get something in here for us to have for dinner, one more time?” When Ivanovich smiled back at him he said, “Good. I’ll order something form the Chinese place, but first, there is one other call I have to make.”
Hannibal wasn’t sure what he intended to tell Cindy, but he knew he had to let her know that there was a reason he had gone two days with hardly any contact with her. He thought he also wanted to ask a few questions about that real estate agent with whom she had been traveling the city. He might even want to invite her over to meet the man who caused all that grief.
But as he reached for the telephone, it rang.
“Hannibal? It’s Orson Rissik.”
“Orson?” Hannibal said. “You calling to find out what I learned today? It wasn’t much that can help you.”
“That’s not it,” Rissik said. He seemed to be speaking more slowly than usual. “Did you speak to Mrs. Petrova today?”
“Chatted with her in her kitchen this afternoon,” Hannibal said.
“Well, I hope you got everything you were hoping for from her.”
Hannibal’s eyes narrowed and the hair rose on the back of his neck. “Why?”
“You just might be the last person to see her alive,” Rissik said. “Except of course for whoever shot her.”
18
Hannibal quickly suited up for business again. While he was tying his tie, Ivanovich went into the next room and returned in a nondescript sport coat.
“It was Dani Gana,” Ivanovich said while Hannibal pulled on his gloves. “He realized that he could not take Viktoriya away and leave a loose end like her mother to hunt him down one day.”
“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Hannibal said. “My police contact says I’ll be allowed to survey the crime scene because I could tell if anything was stolen. While I’m there, I might find a clue that would help me find out where Gana took off to.”
Ivanovich put a hand on Hannibal’s shoulder. “Why are you doing this? I have released you from any obligation.”
“That’s right,” Hannibal said, sliding his Oakleys into place. “And that means this is no longer about you. Now it’s about the girl. If you’re right and Gana had anything to do with this, she’s in danger. If it was a near-miss by one of his enemies, she may be in even greater danger. Either way, she probably doesn’t know her mother is dead. I need to find him and tell her what I know so she can make an informed decision about whether she wants to stay with this guy.”