Johnny checked Clark’s badge and driver’s license, not just to verify the man’s identity, but to establish the upper hand. And to punish him for being late and to piss him off a bit, too.
Johnny’s waitress delivered his pancakes and eggs. She greeted Clark with familiarity — she called him Richie — and a complete lack of enthusiasm. Evidently he tipped like the asshole he was. She poured him a cup of coffee. Clark didn’t bother looking at the menu. He ordered his usual, two eggs over easy and the rib-eye steak on the side.
Johnny didn’t wait for Clark’s food to arrive. He slid the egg whites onto his pancakes, poured syrup over them, and dug in.
“My boss said we know each other,” Johnny said. “I can’t seem to place you. Refresh my memory.”
“Your boss lied. Or you weren’t listening. I never said I knew you. I said I knew of you.”
Cops knew criminal defense attorneys by reputation. The more successful a lawyer was in defending alleged perpetrators, the more they hated him. Until the day they needed his help, that is.
“What do you know about me?” Johnny said.
“I know you were the lawyer for the James brothers, two of the biggest scumbags ever to walk the sidewalks of Elizabeth.”
“Reformed scumbags.” The James brothers had been notorious drug dealers but had cleaned up their act. They owned and operated a chain of car washes now. Johnny glanced at Clark. The shit-eating grin still hadn’t vanished from his face. “You know, for a guy who’s staring at an indictable that might cost him his career and land him in jail for who knows how many years, you don’t seem concerned. You want to tell me your story so I can see what I’m missing?”
Clark took a sip of coffee and leaned back, spreading his arms along the top of the booth as though he didn’t have a care in the world. “Sure. I’ll tell you my story. It’s simple. I’m not worried because you’re going to be my lawyer.”
The certainty in his voice struck Johnny as offensive. Johnny gave Clark his own shit-eating grin. “You sure about that, are you?”
“Absolutely. What you’re missing is that my case is just as important to you as it is to me.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah. That’s right, counselor. You see, I know the magic word.”
Magic word. Clark’s arrogance soured the syrup on his breakfast cakes. Johnny sighed. “What’s the magic word, Richie?”
Clark broadened his grin. “The magic word is Nadia Tesla.”
CHAPTER 48
Bobby never thought about the purple streaks in Eva’s hair until the girl turned. He’d caught a glimpse of her hair countless times during the trip from Japan. He’d had ample opportunity to consider its color. It had never dawned on him that the absence of purple might be evidence the girl was not Eva. Only when he saw her face did this occur to him. The girl was not wearing purple lipstick either. And he’d never seen Eva without her lips painted her favorite color. Eva was all about purple, and to Bobby the color purple was all about Eva. In his mind, the two were inseparable.
This girl had no trace of purple about her.
And yet, his heart leapt in his chest nonetheless, for the girl he’d faithfully followed for the last three days was Eva.
Other than the absence of purple, she looked exactly the same as he remembered her, except she was totally different. Her high cheekbones seemed more drawn. Dark circles surrounded her eyes. But the creases that sprang to her forehead when she realized there was a man behind her caught Bobby’s eye. Only three years had passed since he’d seen her last, since her uncle — the Coach — had told him she’d died. And yet she looked ten years older. Not in a bad way. In a mature way. The latter observation struck fear in Bobby’s heart. Maybe she’d think he was too young for her again. She was nineteen. He was about to turn eighteen. Maybe in her eyes he’d gone back to being a kid.
The creases vanished. Her eyes came alive. They shone with intensity. Her lips curled upward. No, they weren’t just curling upward. They parted to form a rapturous smile, an uninhibited look of joy the likes of which he’d never seen from her before. She’d been the tough girl with the inscrutable expression. Now she stood before him looking like he were the person in the world she most wanted to see.
He offered her his hand.
She took it. Grabbed it as though it were the hand of her personal Moses. The man who had come to rescue her. The man she knew was coming to rescue her from the moment she’d caught a glimpse of him at Fukushima.
The Hawaii Five-O beat gathered itself for its climactic run. The horns blared. The drums pounded. Bobby felt invincible.
He turned and pulled Eva toward the stairs. The name of Moses rang in his ears.
Luo, he thought. He couldn’t leave Luo behind. He decelerated. Felt the slack in Eva’s arm as she stepped closer to him. Luo would have crossed the entrance to the media room if he thought he could do so undetected. But he didn’t, so he couldn’t. There was nothing Bobby could do to help him. If Luo was an imposter, he deserved his fate. If he was Eva’s father, he would be screaming for Bobby to run—
Bobby raced down the hallway with Eva. He pulled the stairwell door. A dim light shone under the door at the top of the stairs. The peripheral glow from the lights aimed out at the lake, he thought.
Bobby released Eva’s hand. He powered up the stairs. He heard her follow behind him. The sound of her footsteps blended with his. Perfect cadence, just like in the Zone when they scavenged for scraps of metal that could be sold on the black market. They hadn’t seen each other in three years, but they were already communicating without speaking.
The music rose to a crescendo. It was muted by the door behind them, but Bobby could still hear it as he approached the top of the stairwell.
He pushed the door open. The handrail stood twenty-five feet in front of him. Beneath it, the cliff. Below the cliff, their skates. Beyond their skates, a runway made of ice, ready for takeoff.
Bobby emerged onto the observation deck. Eva pulled up beside him. The honey scent of her hair, the sound of her breathing, the heat of her shoulder rubbing up against his, electrified him. He found the grapple hanging at the bottom of one of the iron beams.
“There,” he said.
Someone slammed the door shut behind them. Two men in suits stepped out from against the walls surrounding the door. They pointed their rifles at Bobby and Eva. Both men wore earphones. One of them took his eyes off Eva and spoke.
“I’ve got the girl on the observation deck… Yes, the observation deck… Obviously he’s an idiot because she’s with me and not in her room… And get this. I can’t believe it.” The man looked at Bobby. “She’s not alone. The boy’s here…. That’s right… I have no idea how he did it, but he got inside… just like you said he would.”
CHAPTER 49
Simmy’s driver pulled up to a square promenade at the entrance to the Swallow’s Nest. Two more armed guards awaited them.
“Milanovich?” Nadia said. “Have you heard of that name?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know him?”
“I know of him. Assuming it’s the same Milanovich.”
“What are the odds there are two Milanoviches with a mansion on Lake Baikal?”
“Low.”
“Then obviously it’s him. So who is he? Another oligarch? A former Soviet official turned capitalist?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Simmy pressed his lips together. It was a slight gesture, one that would have gone unnoticed by most people. But to a forensic securities analyst used to vetting management during rigorous interviews, and one who’d spent time with Simeon Simeonovich, it was the equivalent of a major revelation during a poker game.