“Thank you for making the time to see me.”
“How could I not?” Uspensky said. “You are clearly a man of some influence. You have Aleksandr Ivanovich.”
Hannibal smiled and nodded. “He opens doors. I only want a few minutes. By the way, I love the name of your brokerage firm. Tell me, who are Rice, Staff and Spike?”
Uspensky smiled, regaining his seat and opening a humidor. “Those are just common words chosen at random. They are meant to send the message that the company is very American. I can see that you are a man who understands the importance of appearances. Now, is this to be a chat, an interview, or an interrogation?”
Hannibal selected one of the cigars. “Just a friendly conversation. You can help me with my current investigation. First, I’d like to make sure I’m pursuing the right man.”
He handed over the photograph he had been carrying for the last couple of days. Uspensky took it, laid it on the desk and stared down at it while clipping the end off his cigar. He lit it with a Zippo lighter and took a first puff, all the while gazing at the picture as if trying to find some inner meaning in it.
“Yes, this is my business partner, Boris Tolstaya at the center.”
“And do you know the man behind him?” Hannibal asked.
“I believe that to be Gartee Roberts, an African who I think may have worked with Boris on a project.”
Hannibal nodded and settled into the overstuffed armchair by the picture windows. “Well, that fellow you knew as Roberts is now known as Dani Gana. He was murdered recently. His widow is in hiding, in fear of the killer.”
“Obviously I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Uspensky said, his face the embodiment of innocence. “I didn’t really know this Roberts, or Gana, or whatever. In fact, I think I only met him once.”
The sweet cigar smoke reached out to Hannibal, reminding him that he was holding a similar weapon. He glanced at his cigar, but decided to tuck it into his inside jacket pocket. Not looking up, he said, “He was more Boris’s friend, I guess. I’d sure like to discuss it with him.”
Uspensky’s laugh was a raucous bellow. “Oh, I bet you would. And believe me, I wish I could help you, but I haven’t seen Boris in weeks.”
“I guess it took him a while to find Roberts,” Hannibal said. “I think Roberts may have stolen money from Boris. That would make it easy to put the murder on Boris. The thing is, once Boris found Roberts, I figured he’d come back to work.”
Uspensky stopped laughing. “I think you got that a little mixed up. Funds disappeared all right, right about the time Boris did.”
“Boris?” Hannibal sat forward, his feet sinking into the deep carpeting. “Well, that kind of makes sense. Our boy steals money that’s already been stolen, figuring the original thief, Boris, can’t go to the cops or even to the mob to report it.”
“Look here, Jones,” Uspensky said, resting both elbows on his desk. “You got Ivanovich backing you up. That makes me think you are not with the police. But it would be polite for you to confirm this.”
“I assure you I’m no kind of cop or fed. No affiliation with law enforcement of any kind.”
Uspensky nodded. “Now the question is, are you connected?”
“If you mean to some sort of criminal organization, like perhaps the Red Mafiya, I have no connections or affiliation there either. You can check me out.”
“I’m inclined to believe you,” Uspensky said. “I guess you’re here asking for information, for help. Come over here and let me school you.”
Hannibal stood and went to the front of the desk. Uspensky clutched his cigar between his teeth and spread his meaty hands on his desk to lay it all out for Hannibal.
“You see, the securities business isn’t much different from the casino business. Sometimes people bet big. Sometimes they do it on the margin, which means they actually bet, or invest, more than they have. Sometimes when they do that they lose. We have to carry that debt, and sometimes those debts can add up because of interest.”
“I’m familiar with this type of debt,” Hannibal said. “Interest can get quite high.”
Uspensky nodded. “Yeah, sometimes. And sometimes people don’t want to pay. Now Boris, he liked to keep his hands clean. He meets this Roberts guy, and this guy is smooth. So Boris has the kid handle some of the collections. He was collecting and stashing some of these funds.”
“Stashing?” Hannibal asked.
“Hey, you’re a businessman,” Uspensky said. “Nobody reports all their income to the IRS, right?”
Hannibal did, but he just nodded and smiled.
“Well, that side of the business was kind of subjective. Sometimes Boris would give the big losers a little discount if they did things for him. And sometimes he’d collect an extra percentage point from those he could squeeze it out of. And sometimes when he did that, he would do some creative bookkeeping. You getting any of this?”
“Oh my God,” Hannibal said, his face scrunching into an open-mouthed smile. “Boris was embezzling from his own business. He was stealing from you. Gana wasn’t hiding from the mob, he was just hiding from Boris. Boris is the one hiding from the mob.”
“That kind of hangs together,” Uspensky said, blowing a big cloud of smoke at the ceiling. “If you got it right, it sounds like Boris caught up with the little African thief and that means he might have my money back.”
“So, you don’t know where he is.”
“No,” Uspensky said, “but nobody can hide forever. You’re a pretty clever detective, Jones. You’d have to be to follow a trail from that old picture to me. And you got Ivanovich at your back. There could be a fat finder’s fee if you was to find my old partner and let me know where he is. He left here with a sizable sum. I’m just saying.”
“How much money are we talking about?” Hannibal asked.
“A sizable sum.”
Hannibal nodded and walked very slowly toward the door. When he wrapped his hand around the knob, Uspensky asked, “Well?”
Hannibal turned and smiled. “It’s a very tempting offer, but that would turn our friendly chat into a business conversation. And, no offense, but you’re not the kind of guy I really want to do business with.”
Once he got the car back on the Dulles Toll Road, Hannibal pushed a button to call a familiar phone number.
“Rissik.”
“Hey, Chief,” Hannibal said. “I just wanted you to know that a friend and I just paid a visit to Ivan Uspensky and are on our way home with our skins intact.”
“Really?” Hannibal could hear him leaning back in his office chair. “You learn anything useful?”
“I think the visit did shed a little more light on Dani Gana’s murder, and maybe on all three.”
“Glad to hear it,” Rissik replied. “It’s kind of late in the day for you to visit here, but stop by my office in the morning so we can compare notes. You tell me what the Russian money man says, and I’ll tell you the interesting connection my people turned up that ties Dani Gana’s death to the murder of Raisa Petrova.”
28
Sitting in his car, in the parking lot outside of Rissik’s office, Hannibal made a rare early-morning phone call. He was facing eastward, watching a thin wisp of clouds trying in vain to hide the red-tinged rays of the autumn sun. With all the windows down he enjoyed a pleasant cross breeze that carried the sweet scent of late-blooming lilacs growing nearby. The cool air against his skin brought a smile as he listened to the phone ring at the other end.
“Hello?” a somewhat impatient voice finally said.