Part 20 (1/2)
”I wondered if the great Stephen Dagger would ever grace my humble business,” Kubikov said with a heavy accent and a sneer that pa.s.sed for his smile. Kubikov slipped onto a seat in the chair opposite Ross in a manner much like Mo imagined a King would place himself on a throne. Big Joe stood at Kubikov's back.
”I eagerly await this time,” Kubikov continued. ”Search him.” He double snapped his fingers and in response, one of the Joes pulled Ross up from the bench to pat him down. Then they pushed Ross back onto the bench seat.
”Search bag,” Kubikov ordered.
Joe grabbed Mo's messenger bag from the bench beside her and dumped its contents on the table.
”What the fried eggs are you doing?” Mo started to stand and Little Joe-or was it Joe-forced her down with a beefy hand.
Ross started to get up as if he was about to come to her defense. She quelled him with a hand to the thigh.
”What is question? Fried eggs? Do we discuss the breakfast? I not understanding,” Kubikov said. ”The kitchen specialty, it is chicken wings. Not eggs. You wish wings?”
Mo had observed drunken patrons chewing on messy BBQ wings and licking the sauce off their fingers like they probably wanted to lick on the girls. Yuck. ”No thanks. I'm not hungry.”
Joe picked up Mo's camera and then fiddled with the controls, scanning the digital photos on the memory card. He said some words Mo didn't understand before tossing the camera down. Mo resisted the impulse to protest the rough treatment and opened her bag. She pushed the items off the edge of the table into it.
”Very cagey, Mr. Dagger,” Kubikov said. He snapped his fingers once and one Joe produced a pack of foreign looking cigarettes and a lighter. After lighting up, Kubikov's first puff produced a stream of smoke into Ross and Mo's faces.
Mo resisted the urge to remind him that the law forbid smoking in public places.
”Search her,” Kubikov snapped again.
This time Mo couldn't stop Ross from jumping up. ”n.o.body touches her,” he growled. Mo had never seen him look so dangerous.
”Okay, I agree,” Kubikov said. ”For now.”
Ross subsided onto the bench again.
”You know I am Yuri Kubikov.”
They nodded.
Mo didn't know what drew her attention to the area near the door to the club, but she glanced around one of the Joes and saw Gigantor enter.
”Tell Kubikov what is bring you here, Mr. Dagger.”
”My name is Grant. Ross Grant.”
”Ah yes. But is name Stephen Dagger everyone knows you. Correct statement?”
”I suppose so.”
”Then no more games, Mr. Dagger. What is you want?” the Russian demanded with a flick of his hand.
”I think the question really is what do you want of me?” Ross asked ”Mr. Dagger I tire. If you wish money then say to Kubikov face.”
”I don't know what you mean.”
Kubikov chuckled ”I am understand you have copies of my doc.u.ments. And you tell me leave money at your girlfriend house. Correct statement?”
”No. I don't have anything of yours and I don't want money from you. What doc.u.ments are you talking about?”
”You know.”
”What makes you think I have them?”
”Your fiancee,” the Russian said with a nod toward Mo. ”She works at investigation agency. Correct statement?”
”Sort of,” Mo said, not correcting the fiancee part.
”You know someone from agency contact us, Mr. Dagger.”
”Well, it wasn't me, was it?” Mo asked, hoping Ross didn't suspect her of something.
”No.”
Relief.
”But your agency.”
”Who at the agency?” Ross asked.
”This person use your name of Dagger.” Kubikov's lip curled and his thick brows converged into one.
Mo thought about telling Kubikov that Clarence was using the Dagger name, but then what would happen to the receptionist? As angry as she was with him, she didn't want to reveal his ident.i.ty to a mobster.
One of the thugs whispered into the gangster's ear. ”And who was squirrely guy at drop point tonight?” Kubikov asked. ”He your accomplice too?”
Uh oh, Mo thought. Squirrely fit Clarence. Drop point? Must have been her house.
”I have no idea what you're talking about,” Ross replied.
”I lose patience with game, Mr. Dagger,” Kubikov said. ”Give me doc.u.ments now and I not kill you and your fiancee,” he said with a nod toward Mo.
Gulp.
”Maybe I am hungry after all. Could we both get an order of wings?” Mo asked.
”I am good host,” Kubikov said, snapping his fingers in the air.
Joe came forward. The Russian mumbled a few words Mo didn't hear. Joe nodded and walked away.
”Why are you ordering dinner when he's threatening my life?” Ross whispered to her.
”He's threatening me too, you know. Besides, it got one of the henchmen to leave.”