Part 23 (2/2)
”I'm sorry. The item in question is the only card in my hand. If I turn it over I have no leverage whatsoever.”
”Money works. Those sparklers are no f.u.c.king good to me. What am I, a broker? No. I'll trade some for the gun. But only for Paulie's personal weapon. Understand? I'm not swapping the mint for some Sat.u.r.day night special you picked up on eBay.”
”It is what I say it is.”
”Good then. You give me the piece, I give you, say, a portion of what I've got, and the rest I'll trade for cash money. Makes sense to me.”
”It takes time to convert items like that into cash.”
”Think about it Serge, you're not in the strongest position here. You're in possession of a murder weapon. Never a good plan. What are you going to do with it? Sooner or later you have to get rid of it.”
”I could mail it to the police.”
”Sure. Fine by me. Go right ahead.”
”Even if it proves your partner is a killer?”
”Even if it proves my partner had improper relations with a hamster. I don't give a s.h.i.+t. You want to hang him with that killing, be my guest.”
”I could involve you.”
”In what? Talking by the dumpster? However this goes down, I'm in the clear. My partner died, I inherited his case, I tracked down some jewels and I found his confidential informant. And then you'll have lots of time to explain yourself. Face it Serge, this is the last chance you're gonna have to talk to somebody who might listen. Once you're in custody, it's out of my hands.”
”How do we make the exchange?”
”Just you and me, pal, what d'ya say? Only thing, it happens now, today, no d.i.c.king around - h.e.l.l, bring your big a.s.s bodyguard if it makes you feel safe. I'll bring the stones.”
”Are they close?”
”In my pocket.”
”Let me see them.”
”I don't think so. You can squeeze the envelope. See? Nice big stones inside. That's enough. Let's go get the gun.”
”No, I go by myself.”
”Oh don't be stupid, Sergei. You think I'm going to let you run off to collect a weapon and then show up armed and greedy? That'll be the day. No, we'll go there together, and we'll do an exchange like civilized people, and you'll be very careful because I'm not as trusting as my partner was.”
”So then, Citizen Grenkov, how'd you mess up your hand?”
”I tripped.”
”Really? Over someone's face?”
”The sidewalk.”
”That where you ripped your trousers? Which sidewalk? Local, or a hundred kilometres north of here?”
”I fell down. That's not a crime.”
”Also not an answer. Where did you fall down?”
”I don't remember.”
”Okay, let's work it out. When did you fall down? Last night?”
”No.”
”Can't be much before Friday night, Sat.u.r.day morning. Sound about right?”
”Yes.”
”Yes. Good. So where were you Friday night, Sat.u.r.day morning?” No answer. ”You forget?” Sullen. ”Okay, I'll tell you where you were, you were in Dockerty, breaking into a doctor's office and putting her in the hospital, then you broke into someone else's apartment. Didn't find what you were looking for, did you? That's why you're still looking.”
”You have no proof of this.” Something caught his attention and he leaned sideways in his chair to see past her shoulder. Anya Zubrovskaya was standing at the table. She had approached so quietly, Stacy hadn't heard a thing. The Citizen gave a low, involuntary moan as he registered yet another inconvenience in a long, unsatisfying weekend.
Anya smiled at Stacy. ”h.e.l.lo, Detective. I am pleased with you. You are good at your job. May I join you?”
”Please do.”
”Your partner is in the laneway talking to that little peac.o.c.k. I was hoping she was going to shoot him, but no luck, so I came inside. She is very tall, is she not? Like a flagpole. But she did not lose me. I am happy about that.” She smiled at the man across the table. ”You can arrest this one for a.s.sault. He tried to kill me two nights ago.”
The chair didn't sc.r.a.pe and the table hadn't budged, but Stacy was standing. ”That true, Citizen?” She had her cuffs in her left hand. ”You might as well turn around. I have to take you in.”
”Because she says so?”
”Because I say so.” As before, when she frisked him, Stacy's tone was calm, polite and unequivocal. ”Turn around please, hands behind your neck, fingers interlaced, I'm sure you've done it before.”
”I demand a lawyer.”
”Supreme Court says this week you don't rate one. Last time, turn around, hands behind your neck. Don't make it worse than it is.”
”Go to h.e.l.l.” Yev kicked over the table and threw a bottle followed by a roundhouse punch at Stacy. She avoided all three without appearing to do more than twist her shoulders and arch her back. She chopped down on his right kneecap with the heel of her boot, dislocating it immediately and rendering that leg unusable. As he lost balance, she hacked his throat with the axe edge of her hand, stabbed him in the solar plexus with a dagger made of stiffened fingertips and swept his one serviceable leg out from under him. He dropped to the barroom floor, retching and gasping. She was on him like a leopard; a hard knee dropped onto the small of his back, an arm twisted between his shoulder blades, and then handcuffs. Citizen Yev was under arrest.
Stacy looked up to see a dozen men, most of them standing, all looking at her. ”Please stay back, gentlemen,” she said. ”This doesn't concern you.”
Anya was applauding. ”Bravo,” she said.
”Do me a favour? Fetch my partner.”
”Of course, Detective.”
The laneway was deserted. Not a crow in sight. A few gulls, the small ones with the black wingtips, she liked them, they reminded her of somewhere else. She caught a glimpse of Sergei and the tall woman going into the parking lot at the far end.
In the parking lot, Sergei was opening the pa.s.senger door on the red BMW. He bent over and rummaged under the seat. Anya saw the tall policewoman unsnap her holster and put her hand on the b.u.t.t of her pistol. ”Now, Sergei,” she said, ”I want you to be very careful lifting it out of there.”
<script>