by Robin Cook
The man took a moment to recover. Jack used the time to come out through the gate and help retrieve some of the man’s purchases, which had fallen out of the bag.
“I’m awfully sorry to have startled you,” Jack said as he picked up several boxes of cake flour, a frozen dinner, a tin of cinnamon, and a bottle of vodka, which miraculously had not broken.
“It’s not your fault,” the man said. He squatted down, righted the bag, and began repacking his groceries. At the same time his eyes kept nervously darting around as if he was afraid someone else might startle him.
Jack handed over what he’d picked up. He couldn’t help but have noticed the man’s strong Slavic accent. It seemed appropriate given his dark beard and Russian-style hat.
“Are you a resident of this enclave?” Jack asked.
The man hesitated for a moment before answering. “I am,” he said.
“Do you happen to know Yuri Davydov? He lives here in number fifteen.”
The man made a point to look around Jack and study the building.
“Vaguely,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
Jack struggled to get his wallet out of his back pocket. As he did so, he asked the man if he was Russian. The man said he was.
“I noticed all the signs up the street were in the Cyrillic alphabet,” Jack said.
“There are a lot of Russians living in Brighton Beach.”
Jack nodded. He opened his wallet and showed the man his shiny medical examiner’s badge. Jack appreciated that the official emblem generally made people more cooperative and willing to answer questions.
“My name is Dr. Jack Stapleton.”
“Mine is Yegor.”
“Glad to meet you, Yegor,” Jack said. “I’m a medical examiner from Manhattan. Would you by any chance know where Yuri Davydov is at the moment? I knocked on his door, but he’s not at home.”
“He’s probably out driving his taxi,” Yegor said.
“I see.” To Jack, that meant that either Yuri was emotionally strong or there’d been the lack of domestic bliss Flash suggested. “When do you think he’ll be getting home?”
“Not until late tonight,” Yegor said.
“Like nine or ten?” Jack asked.
“Something like that,” Yegor said. “Is there a problem?”
Jack nodded. “I need to talk with him. Do you know what taxi company he works for?”
“He just works for himself,” Yegor said.
“That’s too bad,” Jack said.
“I’d heard that his wife just died,” Yegor said. “Is that what you want to talk with him about?”
“It is,” Jack said.
“Would you like to tell me what it is in case I see him?” Yegor said.
“Just tell him we know what killed his wife,” Jack said. “But the important thing is that he call me because what killed his wife is very dangerous, and he could be at risk. Let me give you one of my cards, which you can give to him if you see him.”
Jack took out a business card. “I’ll even include my home number.” Jack wrote on the back and handed the card to Yegor.
Yegor examined the front of the card. “Is this the address where you work?”
“That’s it,” Jack said. He tried to think if there were any other questions he could ask Yegor, but none came to mind. “Thank you for your help.”
“It was my pleasure,” Yegor said. “How late will you be at work?”
“Probably at least until six,” Jack said.
“I’ll tell Yuri if I see him,” Yegor said. Then he nodded to Jack before continuing on his way.
Jack watched the receding Russian for a moment before looking back at Yuri Davydov’s house. That was when he thought about leaving one of his cards under the door. The only potential downside was that when and if Clint Abelard came out and the card was brought to his attention, he’d have evidence of what he called Jack’s interference. Then Jack would undoubtedly hear about it from Bingham.
“Ah, who the hell cares,” Jack said out loud. He got out another card. On the back he wrote a message for Yuri to call him ASAP. He included his direct extension as well as his home number. Then he went back up the front walk and slipped the card under the door.
Jack unlocked his bicycle and pedaled away. He had it in his mind to take a quick loop around Brighton Beach before heading back to the office. He was mainly just curious about the area, but he thought that if he happened to see a veterinary office, he’d stop in to ask if they had information about the rat die-off.
___________
SEVENTEEN
Wednesday, October 20
12:15 P.M.
Yuri had never been more agitated in his entire life. The moment he’d come face-to-face with Jack Stapleton, it had felt as if his heart would leap from his chest. And to make matters worse, he hadn’t been able to get the Glock out of his pocket, since it had gotten caught up in the lining of his jacket.
As it turned out, the vain struggle was for the best. If he had managed to get the gun out, his situation would be worse than it was. Jack Stapleton hadn’t caused him to panic so much as the fear that Flash Thomas was there as well. Gordon Strickland had said they’d been together at the funeral home.
As soon as Yuri was sure that the medical examiner was by himself, he’d collected his thoughts enough to deal with him. He’d been stunned to learn that Jack Stapleton had somehow seemingly made the diagnosis of botulism.
After walking away from Jack, Yuri had not looked back. He’d gone directly to a local bar. Only then had he dared to glance behind him to see if Jack Stapleton had followed him.
Not seeing the doctor, Yuri had gone in, ordered a vodka, and slugged it down.
“You want another?” the bartender asked. Thankfully, it was someone Yuri didn’t know. If he did, Yuri would have worried about his commenting about the beard. Yuri was afraid to take it off.
“A double,” Yuri said. He was still trembling. The other issue that bothered him was that Jack Stapleton had obviously been walking around his property. That meant that he’d seen the laboratory vent in the backyard. Yuri had no idea what the doctor might have made of that.
The other thing Yuri worried about was whether Jack had looked through the back window of the garage. If he had, he might have seen the pest control truck. That could be as potentially damaging as seeing the laboratory vent.
Yuri glanced at his watch. He didn’t know if he’d allowed enough time for Jack to leave, but he couldn’t wait any longer. He paid his bar tab, polished off his drink, and picked up his groceries.
Walking back to the mouth of Oceanview Lane, he hesitated. He looked at his house and saw no one. Encouraged, Yuri started down the alley. He had his right hand in his pocket wrapped around the pistol butt, much as he had before. The difference this time was that he made sure the gun wouldn’t be caught in the jacket lining. He was not about to be surprised again, particularly not by Flash.
The house appeared quiet. Yuri scanned the immediate neighborhood. With Jack nowhere in sight, he went through his front gate and rushed around to the side door. As quickly as he could manage, he got himself inside and locked the door behind him.
Leaning against the door he let out a deep breath of relief. A rapid glance around the interior suggested that no one had been inside. He set the groceries down and immediately descended the steps to the basement. He breathed another sigh of relief to see that the lock on the lab was undisturbed.
Back in the kitchen Yuri put the frozen dinner and vodka into the freezer. The rest of the boxes he left on the table. On his way to the bathroom he saw the business card on the floor by the front door. He picked it up. As he expected, it was another one of Jack’s. Yuri added it to the one already in his pocket.
Yuri pulled off the fake beard. The adhesive was driving him crazy. When he looked into the mirror he saw that he had a minor rash where the beard had been. He washed his face. Unsure of how else to treat it, he put on some aftershave lotion. Unfort
unately, it stung so much it brought tears to his eyes. When he looked in the mirror again, the rash was significantly redder. It looked much worse.
Back in the kitchen Yuri got his car keys out of the cabinet. Ever since he’d been in the bar he’d been agonizing over what to do about Jack Stapleton’s appearance on the scene. Much as he hated to, he decided that it was serious enough to warrant alerting Curt and risking his wrath. But he would do it in person.
First, Yuri went to the front windows. He surveyed the alleyway through the slats of the venetian blind. Except for a young woman in a babushka pushing a child in a stroller, there was no one in sight. Nor were there any strange vehicles parked near his cottage. Walking to the kitchen door, Yuri looked out at the side door of the garage. It was only a few steps away. He debated putting the beard back on but decided against it for fear of aggravating the rash. Instead, he took the gun out of his jacket, held it in his left hand, and draped a towel over it. With his keys in his right hand, he opened the door.
After one last check to make sure there was no one about, Yuri went out the door. He locked it and opened the garage within seconds. Vigilant for any surprises and careful to keep the gun at the ready, Yuri made short work of getting his cab out of the garage and the overhead door closed. Accelerating down the alleyway, he began to relax. He turned out into Oceanview Avenue and headed for the Shore Parkway, the fastest route into Manhattan at that time of the day. As he motored up the entrance ramp, he bent over and stuck the Glock under the front seat.
Yuri knew that Curt would be furious at Yuri’s upcoming visit to the firehouse, but Yuri was convinced he had no choice. He could have called, but Curt would have been angry at that as well, and Yuri was convinced it was far better to talk to Curt face-to-face to emphasize the seriousness of the situation. As he drove, Yuri got progressively more annoyed that he even had to worry about Curt becoming irritated. It was ridiculous for people working together for a common goal to be so fearful of a partner’s reaction. The only explanation was that Curt was anti-Slavic like he was anti everything else.
The Brooklyn Battery Tunnel left Yuri in lower Manhattan. Making sure his “off duty” sign was illuminated, he drove north on West Street to Chambers before turning right and working his way over to Duane Street.
Yuri slowed as he neared the firehouse. He didn’t know whether to park or not. Seeing a foursome of firemen playing cards at a table on the sidewalk directly in front of the entrance made him opt to stay in the car. The firehouse’s huge overhead doors had been thrown open to the glorious mid-fall day. Just the shiny red fronts of the ladder truck and fire engine could be seen.
Yuri pulled his cab up onto the ramp, then angled it off, putting him parallel to the building. The men at the table looked up from their game.
Yuri lowered his passenger-side window and leaned over.
“Excuse me!” he called. “I’m looking for Lieutenant Rogers.”
“Hey, Lieutenant!” one of the men yelled over his shoulder. “You got a visitor.”
Curt emerged a few minutes later with a hand over his eyes and squinting from the glare. Because of the bright sunshine, the inside of the building was dark by comparison. His expression was one of curiosity until he caught sight of Yuri. Then his countenance clouded with barely contained rage.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he snarled in a forced whisper.
“We’ve got an emergency,” Yuri snapped back. He reached out with one of Jack Stapleton’s business cards.
Curt took the card while casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at his card-playing colleagues.
“What’s this?” he demanded.
“Read it!” Yuri ordered. “It’s what the emergency is about.”
Curt looked at the card before raising his eyes back to Yuri’s. Some of his irritation had metamorphosed to confusion.
“Operation Wolverine is in jeopardy,” Yuri said. “We have to talk right now!”
Curt ran a worried hand through his short, blond hair. He looked around again at the card players. They were concentrating on their game.
“All right,” Curt growled. “This better be important! There’s a bar around the corner called Pete’s. Steve and I will be there as soon as we can.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Yuri said before accelerating down the street. He fumed about Curt’s anger. In his rearview mirror he caught the firefighter studying the card briefly before turning back into the firehouse.
The bar was dark and smoky and smelled of old beer and rancid grease. There was a limited menu featuring hamburgers, fries, and soup of the day. Country music whined in the background at low volume. Every now and again, Yuri could make out a lyric about jilted love and lost opportunity. A number of men were having lunch and a brew. Yuri had to walk the entire length of the narrow tavern before finding an empty booth in the back next to the lavatory. He ordered a vodka and a hamburger and sat back. He didn’t have long to wait. Curt and Steve arrived at the same time as the food.
The two firefighters slipped into the booth across from Yuri without bothering to greet him. Their vexation was palpable. They were silent while the waiter served the hamburger and placed a napkin next to it. The waiter looked at them inquiringly and they ordered a couple of drafts. When he’d left, Curt brazenly flicked Jack Stapleton’s business card onto the table so that it skidded over to Yuri’s side.
“Start talking!” Curt ordered. “And it better be good.”
Yuri took a bite from his burger and chewed. He eyed his friends. He was being deliberately provocative by making them wait, but he didn’t care. In fact, it gave him a bit of enjoyment.
“We don’t have all day, for crissake,” Curt snapped.
Yuri swallowed and chased his mouthful with a swig of vodka. Then, after running his tongue around the inside of his lips, he picked up the business card and tossed it back in the firefighter’s direction.
“This Dr. Jack Stapleton is the medical examiner I told you about who I ran into at the Corinthian Rug Company Office.”
“Big deal,” Curt scoffed. “That was two days ago.”
“Yesterday he showed up at the Strickland funeral home,” Yuri said. “He was with Connie’s brother.”
“You didn’t tell us that.”
“I didn’t think it was so important,” Yuri said. “At least yesterday I didn’t.”
“But today you do?”
“Without doubt,” Yuri said. He took another bite of his hamburger while Curt and Steve got their beers. Yuri paused until the waiter left. “Today Dr. Jack Stapleton showed up at my house.”
“Why?” Curt demanded. His anger and arrogance had disappeared. Now he was concerned.
“He wanted to warn me that I was at risk for what Connie died of,” Yuri said. “Apparently he’s made the diagnosis she died of botulinum toxin.”
“Oh, Christ!” Curt growled.
“How the hell did he do that?” Steve demanded. “You told us it wouldn’t happen.”
“I don’t know what made him test for it,” Yuri said. “But I do know he took samples from Connie’s body.”
“What did you say to him?” Curt asked.
“First of all, he didn’t know he was talking to me,” Yuri said. “When we ran into each other in the alley, I had the beard. I don’t know if Stapleton would have recognized me without it, since I’d only spoken to him for a few minutes on Monday. But it was good I had it on just the same. Anyway, I told him my name was Yegor, and he believed it. I offered to convey a message to Yuri Davydov, but Stapleton wouldn’t tell me what the message was, other than mentioning that Yuri Davydov might be in danger.”
“But you believe he suspects botulism?” Curt asked.
“I do,” Yuri replied.
“Do you think he’ll be back?” Curt asked.
“Maybe not until tonight. I told him that Yuri Davydov was out driving his cab and wouldn’t be home until sometime after nine or ten.”
Curt looked at Steve. “I
don’t like this.”
“Me neither,” Steve said.
“I don’t like it either,” Yuri said. “He walked around my house. He undoubtedly saw the vent to the lab and heard the circulating fan. He might have even seen the pest control truck.”
“Good God!” Curt mumbled.
“I think he’s got to go, just like Connie,” Yuri said. “The People’s Aryan Army has to get rid of him fast, like this afternoon.”
Curt nodded, then turned to Steve. “What do you think?”
“I think Yuri’s right,” Steve said. “If we don’t act, this guy’s going to single-handedly screw up Operation Wolverine.”
“The trouble is, how do we get rid of him?” Curt said.
“The card has his work address,” Yuri said. “He told Yegor that he’d be there until six. On the back of the card is his home telephone number. And I think he rode all the way out to Brighton Beach on a bike. Seems to me that should be enough information for the PAA.”
“You’re suggesting he rides his bike around the city?” Curt asked.
“That would be my guess,” Yuri said.
“We could follow him when he comes out of work,” Steve said. “Then hit him when he’s vulnerable.”
Curt nodded while he pondered. “How will we recognize him?”
Steve pointed to Yuri. “He’ll have to come along to ID him.”
“Can you be back here at five?” Curt asked.
“Where exactly?” Yuri demanded. “I know you don’t want me at the firehouse.”
“Right here in this bar,” Curt said.
“I’ll be here,” Yuri said.
“All right, it’s decided,” Curt said. “The PAA will sanction Dr. Jack Stapleton. I’ll make that an order.” He looked at
Steve. “That means you’ll have to get back to Bensonhurst right away to gather some of the troops. And for this kind of mission I think we should steal a van.”
“No problem,” Steve said.
“We’ll need a lot of firepower,” Curt said. “I want to make a fast, definitive strike. I mean, I don’t want to shoot him just once and have him pull through.”
“I agree, “ Steve said.