“I’m pleased to hear your voice. Did your trip to Lviv reach a satisfactory conclusion?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
“Good. And did you discover something that might help you with the boy’s case?”
“Yes. I’m optimistic.”
“Outstanding. Then to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
“I need to leave Kyiv this morning. I was hoping you might put in a call and ease the way with Immigration.”
Simeonovich paused. “The Orel Group simplifies entry and exit to and from the Independent States for its contractors. Unfortunately, your assignment ended. So it would be inconsistent with our corporate policy for the Orel Group to act on your behalf.”
“Of course.” Nadia cringed. “I shouldn’t have asked. It was unprofessional.”
“But if there were prospects for us to do business again soon, that might change matters.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I’m always considering acquisitions. I’ve been looking at a small coal company in the U.S. The stock has gotten killed. I’m scheduled to be in New York City next week. Would you be interested in discussing it over dinner?”
“I’d have to check my schedule but I might be available.”
“I may need help with the menu.”
“That could possibly be arranged, too.”
“Call my assistant with your flight information. She’ll arrange VIP.” He softened his voice. “Until the day we meet again.”
“Yes,” Nadia said, savoring that familiar electric current over the phone. “Until that day.”
After she hung up, she saw Marko staring at her, head propped up on a pillow.
“Are you going to be dating a Russian guy?” he said.
“No. I’m not dating anyone. I’m going to have a business dinner with him. That’s all.”
“Didn’t sound like business to me. You realize if he steps out of line I may have to kick some ass.”
“Of course.”
He nodded, satisfied. Then turned serious. “And if I didn’t say it, thanks.”
“For what?”
“For coming back for me. You’re a good sister.”
He’d never said anything like that to her. Ever. If she thought about it any more, she feared she’d show her emotions, which was unthinkable. She burst into motion and started packing.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “It was a purely selfish act. If you’re gone, who’s going to protect me?”
“You got that right, Nancy Drew.”
CHAPTER 57
THE GUN DROVE the Town Car around the same block slowly three times. Tall lamps cast circles of light at the street corners. Victor admired Johnny Tanner’s home. It was an old English style house made of stone. It even contained a turret that looked like a rook. Victor had to hand it to the lawyer. He didn’t look like a man of good taste, with his slick black suits and that horrific ponytail. But here he was, living the American dream.
“This is one of the best neighborhoods in Elizabeth,” the Ammunition said, reading from the screen of his cell phone. “It’s called Westminster.”
Victor grunted. “That’s no surprise. You see a beautiful building or taste good food in America, more often than not you can thank a foreign country. Like England.”
The Gun parked behind the house, a block away. Victor and the Ammunition walked to the front door. The Gun went to the back of the house.
The Ammunition rang the front doorbell. A curtain parted in a room to the left. He rang the doorbell again. The door swung open and Johnny Tanner appeared.
He looked shocked. He glanced quickly in each direction as though he was afraid someone would see Victor on his stoop. “What do you want?”
“You have a beautiful home,” Victor said.
“Thank you. I bought it at an auction. Why are you here?”
“I’d love to see the inside,” Victor said.
“And I’d love a summer house in Spring Lake.”
“Would you rather I talk with Nadia when she returns instead?”
Johnny let them in. Victor and the Ammunition followed him into a living room. It was filled with small furniture built in another century for smaller people. Victor saw dollar signs. He couldn’t help it. He was a thief.
“You have some beautiful things here,” he said. “I didn’t know you were a collector.”
“I’m not,” Johnny said. “This stuff came with the house.”
Victor and the Ammunition sat down on a red velvet couch. Johnny slipped into a small chair the shape of a half-circle. He wore blue jeans and sparkling white tennis shoes. Sneakers, Victor thought. In his own home. Victor cringed. No foreign country deserved thanks for such a complete lack of class. That was America’s creation.
“Since you’re here,” Johnny said, “I might as well be hospitable. You guys want coffee, tea? Something stronger? I’ve got bourbon. And vodka.”
Victor was taken aback by the offer. He studied Johnny. Noticed his hands looked red and clammy. This was not a man who lost his cool easily. Victor knew from experience. Johnny was anxious because he knew why Victor was here. He was nervous because he did indeed have the locket. Best to let the evening develop slowly. In Victor’s experience, patience was a prerequisite to a non-violent resolution. And the pursuit of non-violent resolutions was the single biggest reason he was still alive today.
“Since you’re offering,” Victor said. “Coffee will be fine.”
Johnny glanced at the Ammunition, who shook his head.
A fourth voice rang out. “I’ll have a Coke if you have one.” The Gun appeared in the hallway. “You should keep your backdoor locked. Nice neighborhood, but it’s still Elizabeth.”
“It was locked,” Johnny said.
The Gun put his hands on his hips. His sports jacket opened up to reveal a gun in his waistband. “Huh. Somehow I walked right in.”
Johnny took a deep breath and regarded the twin with a mixture of respect and concern. “I don’t have Coke. I have Diet.”
“Coca Cola Light? That’s for girls. I’ll have coffee instead.”
Victor nodded to the Ammunition. The three of them went into the kitchen. Johnny described how he’d bought the house from a bank after the former owner was sent to prison for embezzlement. Victor wanted to interrupt him but couldn’t find an opening to say a word. Johnny simply wouldn’t shut up. No surprise, Victor thought. He was a lawyer.
The water came to a boil before Johnny was finished. He fixed two coffees and a tea for himself. Victor and Johnny sat down at the kitchen table. The Timkiv twins stood, one near the hallway leading to the front door, the other blocking the way to the back door the Gun had jimmied open.
“You know why we’re here,” Victor said.
“I do?”
“Yes. I could see it in your face as soon as you opened the door.”
Johnny pretended he didn’t know what Victor was talking about. Victor stayed patient. Let him deny his accusation five times.
“One last time,” Victor said. “You know why we’re here.”
Johnny took a breath. “The locket,” he said.
“Good. Where is it?”
“You know where it is. In an envelope with Bobby’s other personal possessions waiting for his release.”
Victor sipped his coffee. It was good and strong, the way he liked it. “I don’t think so.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Then where is it?”
“Here. In your home. Or in a safe place of your own choosing.”
Johnny laughed. He sounded nervous. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Of course it is. That’s what makes it so brilliant. The boy knew he was going to meet Valentine, didn’t he? That’s my guess. He must have known his life was in danger. And he knew the locket might be priceless after all. So did he wear it the day he ended up killing Valentine in self-defense? Of course not. The last thing he wanted was for the locket to fall into someone else’s hands, or simply be lost. So he sent it to you through the mail for safekeeping instead. He knew you from his journey to America. He knows you’re the man Nadia trusts the most. In fact, he probably knew odds were high he’d either be dead or might need a lawyer. Making you an even better person to trust with his most priceless possession.”