“That’s very thoughtful of you. I appreciate the call. It leaves me with a bit of a problem, though.”
“I know. You said you were looking at a new company. You need an analyst. If you can wait twenty-four hours, I’ll know more about my immediate availability. I still might be back in New York by Friday. If not, I’d be happy to recommend someone else.”
“Whoever it is you have in mind, that person won’t do.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“What are the odds this person will pick up a menu and know better than I do what I want for dinner?”
Nadia always started out the conversation with business, and secretly hoped he’d twist it into flirtation. “You never know,” she said. “Someone else might do an even better job than I did in Lviv. Imagine the implications if that person were a man.”
“The implications would be that I’d leave the restaurant hungry.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’d be asking for the check right away and getting out of there as fast as I could.”
“That’s understandable. We all react to temptation in our own individual ways.”
“How dare you…” He laughed. “You are so insolent sometimes. Nobody else talks to me like that. If you were working for me on an assignment right now, I would fire you for that.”
“That would be unhealthy.”
“Why?”
“Because there’d be no one to order dinner for you and you might starve.”
“I hate when that happens.”
“What? When you starve?”
“No. When I don’t have the quickest wit in the room.”
“Shall I dumb it down for you?”
“On the contrary. But I’ll tell you what you can do for me.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell me where you’re going.”
A wave of disappointment washed over her. If only the repartee could have gone on indefinitely. But it couldn’t, and now he’d guided the conversation back to where he’d started. Her location. She was tempted to tell him. No, she realized. She wanted to tell him. She’d called to make sure he knew she might not make dinner on Friday. But she’d had a subconscious motive, too. She wanted him to know where she was. Simmy had offices all over the world, including a small one in Tokyo. Nadia had no one to rely on other than Johnny. A motivated billionaire could provide a safety net. The kind only global power and unlimited resources could buy.
Then an image of her father flashed before her, warning her that a Ukrainian should never trust a Russian.
“I’d like to tell you,” Nadia said. “But I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Simmy hesitated. “Still can’t trust the Russian, can you?”
Nadia started to protest.
“That’s okay. The oligarch doesn’t get love unless he’s giving his money away. Then the people adore him. Now. Let’s see. You’re somewhere over Canada and you’re flying for at least thirteen hours.”
“That’s assuming I told your assistant the truth. I could have made up the amount of time I was going to be in the air just to confuse you.”
“No. That wouldn’t be your style. You’re an honest person. Non-stop to Russia is only nine hours. Europe is even shorter. India is a bit longer…”
“Sometimes the fog is so heavy over San Francisco, it takes twice as long to get there.”
“Very funny. Africa is about right, but what personal business could you possibly have there? The Middle East is also the right distance. That’s a possibility. And then there’s Asia. Japan, Hong Kong, China.”
“I’ve always wanted to go on safari.”
“I’m intrigued. You know I love a good mystery.”
“I’m pleased you’re pleased.”
“I have offices in Beijing, Tokyo, and Dubai. Granted, they are small offices. Mostly consisting of two men, one local, one of mine. But my men are capable. They speak the local languages. If I can be of any assistance, you have my cell phone.”
His words carried an ominous foreboding. The last time Simmy had offered her his assistance, she’d ended up being chased by killers through the Priest’s Grotto, an underground network of gypsum caves in western Ukraine.
“I’m sure I won’t need any help, but it’s incredibly kind of you to offer.”
Nadia meant what she said, except for the first part.
She wasn’t sure of anything at all.
CHAPTER 12
Luo waited outside the Kryzhynka skating rink in the Olympic National Sports Complex in central Kyiv. The sun shone on a brisk Tuesday morning. A wind whipped Luo’s face. It was April in Kyiv, the equivalent of summer in Siberia. Normally such weather didn’t faze him in the least. This morning, however, he couldn’t get warm for some reason. Every time he tried to find a spot in the sun, some students from the Kyiv Sports Institute would gather to chat and cast a shadow on him.
He’d spoken to the detectives investigating the murder of Ksenia Melnik, the woman listed as Adam Tesla’s emergency contact. After contributing a thousand hryvnia to their retirement funds, the detectives confirmed it was a robbery-homicide. Ksenia Melnik’s son had hidden in the closet and placed an emergency call to the police from his cell phone. But the perpetrators escaped before the cops arrived, taking the woman’s cash, sterling silver tea set, and rare book collection.
After speaking with the detectives, Luo tried to meet with the dead woman’s son but he refused to let him into the apartment. Said he didn’t care to meet with any old friends of his mother. Told him to go away or he’d open the door and give him a beating he’d never forget. Luo had a mind to teach the boy some manners, but restrained himself. His sole purpose in life was never far from his mind.
The treasure. Nothing mattered except finding the treasure.
A rowdy group of six young men burst out of the Sports Complex. They carried equipment bags and hockey sticks. Luo recognized Ksenia Melnik’s son, Denys, from his picture on the Western Ukrainian Amateur Hockey League website. He was an eighteen-year-old defenseman for the Hockey Club Express. The season had ended in March. The website said that he lived with his mother in Kyiv.
Not anymore.
Luo walked up to the gang and blocked their path. Hockey was popular in Siberia and Luo had played as a teen. There were even two professional teams now. When he was growing up, the Russian version was a cerebral game with an emphasis on skills and tactics. But the North American style had influenced Russian play, and now there was a violent edge to the game.
As a result, Luo wasn’t surprised to see the young men’s faces tighten when he obstructed their path. Two of them closed their fists. Luo hadn’t even stated his business and yet they’d already revealed themselves. Physically strong, mentally weak.
He handed Denys a business card. “I’m Luo Davidov,” he said. He’d made up the last name yesterday at the printer’s shop. “I’m a scout with Donbas-2.”
Donbas-2 was a professional hockey team from Eastern Ukraine. They were the reigning champions of the Ukrainian Professional Hockey League, and a gateway to the national team, which competed in international events. Every amateur dreamed of playing for Donbas-2.
Denys took the card and stared at it as though it were a notification of a large inheritance.
“May I speak with you in private?” Luo said.
“Sure,” Denys said. He glanced at his friends with a mixture of shock and expectation. This was the moment he’d been waiting for his entire life, he seemed to be saying.
Luo led the way onto the sidewalk and around the corner toward the parking lot behind the stadium. They sat down on two empty soda crates near the rear entrance.
“We’ve been tracking your progress,” Luo said.
“You have?” Denys said.