Part 23 (1/2)
”I'm considering it.”
”On what charge?”
”Torture, strangulation and there's that business with some guy named Nimchuk who got himself dead in a sleazy motel room last week.”
”I don't know any Nimchuk.”
”Oh sure you do, Mr. Siziva,” Stacy said. ”You two were in the ballet together, weren't you? Along with Ludmilla and Va.s.sili.”
”And one more, isn't there, Detective Crean?”
”Zubrovskaya. Anya Ivanova Zubrovskaya.”
”I hear you two used to dance together,” Adele said. ”Back in the day. Before you all became international smugglers.”
”I was never part of that.”
”Not at the end, maybe. You got scared and ran home.” She leaned forward. ”Question is, why did you come back?” She turned to Stacy. ”You be okay if Mr., ah, Siziva and I have a private chat?”
”Oh sure, Yevgeni and I will stay put.” She looked at the big man. ”Won't we?” Grenkov made a noise something like a low growl.
Adele said, ”You have an office, Sergei?” This time she p.r.o.nounced it correctly. ”Maybe the ladies room? It's probably vacant.”
Sergei didn't blink. ”There is a place in the lane.” He straightened his jacket as he rose. ”They don't allow smoking indoors these days,” he said.
Adele followed him to the exit. She looked back to see Stacy taking a chair across from Grenkov.
Adele gave the narrow lane a thorough inspection, checked the fire escape above, looked behind the lone dumpster, then walked to the street entrance and back again, stood close to him, forcing him to lean back. She smiled. ”You wearing a wire, Sergei?”
”What?”
”Me neither,” she said, patting him on the chest. ”You can check if you have to, but don't get familiar.”
He took a step back. ”What do you want?”
”I just want us to be comfortable during these negotiations.” She returned to the lane entrance, watched a car or two go by. ”It's cards on the table time, Sergei,” she said. She took one more look at the sidewalk. ”You feel exposed here? I guess it's okay.” She shook her head and walked back. ”When Paulie got his head blown off, you picked up a new partner.” Sergei was staring at her. ”Didn't tell you about me?”
”Not much.”
”That's Paulie all right, so cool, but also dead, which sorta leaves things up in the air, right?”
Sergei's manner changed. He relaxed a few notches, settled his jacket more comfortably on his shoulders, adjusted his scarf. ”I'm not sure I know what you are talking about,” he said. ”What is it you think you know?”
”See? That's the deal. Paulie was one cagey dude. He just gave me a paper bag and told me that if something should happen, which, go figure, something did, I'd be dealing with his friend Sergei. He said there was some big money in it for me. It's you and me, pal.” She looked around again, lowered her voice. ”And the jewels, of course.”
”You have them?”
”Oh yeah. Coulda knocked me over.”
”How many do you have?”
”How many are there supposed to be?”
”More than you have. What colour are they?”
”What? Let's see . . . I've got a bunch of white ones and a big blue one. What colours did you get?”
”The policewoman inside? She knows about this?”
”Her? f.u.c.k no. She's a hick down from Hooterville. I'm not telling her s.h.i.+t. Let's face it, Serge, I'm kind of on shaky ground here. I've got an envelope full of stones connected to who knows how many f.u.c.king murders. You think I'm talking to people? Look, if we're going to be partners you'll have to open up. What was your deal with Paulie? Finder's fee, piece of the action?”
”I guess he didn't tell you everything.”
”Dammit, Serge! All right, f.u.c.k it. I don't need this s.h.i.+t. I'll just turn the frickin' jewels in to my captain, get a slap on the wrist for turning in some evidence a few days late. So what?”
”But you would prefer not to do that?”
”Well sure, s.h.i.+t, I could use some extra dough. And I don't want to drag my partner's name through the mud if I don't have to. But I won't deal with amateurs. I'm not putting my t.i.t in a wringer because you guys don't know what you're doing. Put a price on what I'm holding. If we can do this quietly, we can make a deal.”
”Did you like your partner, Detective?”
”h.e.l.l no. Giant pain in the a.s.s. Do you like your partner?”
”A necessary inconvenience. That man who was murdered in a motel room, two weeks ago, he was shot through the head, I believe.”
”This would be that Commie smuggler, Nimchuk, right?”
”You have recovered the murder weapon?”
”Not yet.”
”This would be an important piece of evidence, would it not?”
”Describe the weapon.”
”I believe we are talking about a large calibre revolver. A Smith & Wesson.”
”All right. Sure. I'd like to get my hands on it. Don't want murder weapons hanging around, do we?”
”Of course not. Especially evidence that your partner had been a very bad boy?”
”Right. Tell me something I don't know.”
”And in exchange I'm going to need what you have.”
”What? Straight swap? Where's my end?”
”That could be negotiated. After I get the gems.”
”Tell you what, Serge, how be we trade for, say, a couple of the white ones. The big blue one I think maybe I'll hang on to until I see some cash on the table.”