The Russian's Greed

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The Russian's Greed Page 5

by Cap Daniels


  Anya and Gwynn joined the man as Anya whispered, “I told you he would take bait and also swallow hook.”

  “I’m sorry your dinner was ruined by that man, but I assure you he will not bother you again. I am Viktor Volkov.”

  Anya wiped a feigned tear from her face. “Did you hurt him?”

  Viktor narrowed his eyes. “Did you want me to hurt him?”

  She nodded, a look of desperation on her face.

  “I was a little rough with him, but I did not hurt him . . . this time. But I did make him understand I will kill him if I hear he has disturbed you again. He is your husband, no?”

  Anya shook her head. “No! He is not husband. Only person I have been on date with a few times. I thought he was a good man, but I was foolish. He is liar and has terrible temper.”

  Volkov sighed. “Well, as I said, he won’t bother you again. I’m afraid I did not get your names.

  “I’m Gwynn, and my friend is Anya.”

  He offered a slight dip of his chin. “It is a pleasure.”

  He pulled the ring from his pocket, along with a jeweler’s loupe. He pressed the loupe to his right eye and moved the ring into focus in front of the magnifying loupe. “You were correct. Ring is fugazi. You know this word, fugazi?”

  Anya shook her head. “It means two things. First, it means fake piece of jewelry in the business, but it means also situation that turned bad very quickly. I think both are appropriate for tonight.”

  Gwynn squeezed Anya’s trembling hand, and Volkov noticed.

  He placed a finger beneath Anya’s chin and raised her face to look into his. “You have nastoyashchiy drug, a true friend, to hold your hand, and now you have me to protect you from that horrible little man.”

  Anya gazed toward the ring and Volkov’s loupe resting on the table. “How do you know it is fugazi?”

  Volkov motioned for another waitress. When she arrived, he spoke in Russian. “Bring a meat tenderizer from the kitchen.”

  She returned seconds later with a stainless-steel hammer with triangular protrusions on one surface and a smooth, rounded finish on the other. Volkov produced a piece of folded white paper from his interior jacket pocket. As he unfolded the paper, a glistening, loose diamond appeared in the creases. He pulled back the tablecloth and placed the diamond on the heavy wooden table. “A diamond is the hardest of all stones. Nothing can cut diamond except other diamond. Is magnificent thing. Watch closely. This is two-carat diamond and is IF clarity and E maybe F, but is colorless. Do you know what this means?”

  Anya shook her head.

  Volkov said, “Two carat means the stone weighs point four grams. Is bigger than average stone. Clarity means what you see when you look deep inside diamond. Anything you see inside is bad. Cloudy areas or dark spots, these are called inclusions, and they lower value of diamond. FL means flawless. This means perfect diamond. These are rare and are most expensive diamonds in all of world. This one is IF, internally flawless. This means there is nothing inside stone but may have almost invisible mark on outside of stone. I say this one is flawless, but I am not final authority. Finally, the color. This means how clear is diamond. D, E, and F are colorless. This scale goes to Z, which means yellow or brown. This diamond is E in color.”

  Anya’s feigned anger and fear melted into feigned admiration.

  Volkov handed her the loupe and produced a pair of locking jeweler’s tweezers. He positioned the stone in the prongs of the tweezers and placed them in Anya’s left hand. “Place loupe against your cheek and look inside.” She did as he instructed, and he laid his hand across hers, then slowly moved the tweezers closer and closer to the loupe. “Stop when stone is in focus, but do not move loupe.” He pulled his hand from hers as she slowly moved the stone into focus.

  She gazed into the nearly invisible diamond. “It is beautiful.”

  “Yes, it is,” Volkov breathed. “Allow Gwynn to see.”

  Anya offered the loupe, and Gwynn pressed it to her cheek. Just as Volkov had done, Anya placed the tweezers in Gwynn’s hand and positioned them closer.

  Gwynn moved the stone too close and then backed it away until it came into focus. She gasped. “It is astonishing.”

  Volkov smiled. “You have eye for beautiful things. This could be why you are true friend for Anya. The two of you are the only things inside restaurant more beautiful than this diamond.”

  Anya blushed at the compliment, but Gwynn couldn’t look away from the stone. She finally surrendered it back to Volkov, and he lifted the meat tenderizer in his left hand while holding the diamond against the table in the prongs of the tweezers. With a powerful blow, he sent the hammer into the stone. Dishes and glasses clattered and leapt across the table. When he lifted the hammer, the stone had escaped the grasp of the tweezers and had been driven into the surface of the table. He dug it out with the pointed tips and repositioned it between the prongs. He handed the tweezers to Anya. “Look again, and try to find mark from hammer.”

  Anya inspected the stone through the loupe for a long moment and then handed the stone and loupe to Gwynn. After several minutes of searching, they gave up.

  “It didn’t do anything to the diamond,” Gwynn said. “That’s amazing.”

  He lifted the tweezers from her fingers and handed her the ring Anya had thrown across the room. “Now, look at this one.”

  Anya and Gwynn took turns staring through the loupe at the fugazi until Gwynn said, “It looks almost better than yours. How do you know it isn’t real?”

  Volkov leaned back in his seat. “You have heard phrase that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is, yes?”

  Both women nodded.

  “This is why I know that it is not real diamond. It is too good to be real. This stone would be worth thirty thousand dollars U.S. if it were real. No one would mount a stone so valuable in setting so cheap. It is probably real gold, but only maybe ten-karat gold. This means only ten parts gold for every twenty-four parts of alloy. It is gold, but cheap gold.”

  He took the ring from Anya’s fingers and laid it on the table. “Watch what happens when I hit with hammer, but this time, not so hard. Only soft hit.”

  He tapped the mounted stone without disturbing anything on the table, and the fugazi crumbled into a dozen shards of glass. Volkov tossed the ring without its stone onto a plate of scraps and replaced the tablecloth. He folded the real diamond back into its paper carrier and tucked it back into his pocket.

  Anya leaned forward. “How do you know so much about diamonds?”

  Volkov smiled. “I’m in the business. I get paid to know more about diamonds—especially fake diamonds—than everyone around me.”

  The three ate and talked for an hour. Anya told the story of coming to America to become a model or maybe an actress, but neither dream became reality. Gwynn described how she practiced law in New Jersey but couldn’t get into one of the big Manhattan firms she so desperately wanted to join.

  Viktor listened intently to both women as they enjoyed the dessert of chocolate cake and port. When they finished, he pulled up his sleeve to reveal his Patek Philippe wristwatch. He checked the time, reached inside his jacket, and produced the folded paper containing the diamond. He slid the paper into Anya’s hand. “This is for you. As you saw, it is not a fugazi.”

  Anya protested. “I cannot take this. It is too much.”

  He folded her fingers around the envelope and squeezed her hand. “It is yours, but I have only one condition. You must come with me tomorrow to the Diamond District, and we will find for you a setting for the stone, yes?”

  Anya shot a look toward Gwynn, who was bobbing her head up and down. “Yes . . . yes, I will do this. I will come with you, but you cannot be serious. Surely I cannot keep diamond.”

  He gave her hand another firm squeeze. “The diamond is yours, and my number is on the paper. Call me tomorrow, and I will pick you up. Of course, friend Gwynn is welcome to come along, also.”

  They stood, an
d Volkov kissed each of their hands in turn. He said, “It would be my pleasure to have my driver take you home if you would like.”

  Anya laced her arm through his and looked up at him with affection pouring from every inch of her face. “We would love that, but we have a driver waiting for us. It is benefit of Gwynn’s job. I will call you tomorrow.”

  To his delight, Anya raised herself on tiptoes and pressed her lips to his skin, just beneath his ear. “Thank you for being real Russian man and not terrible American child.”

  8

  OGLYANIS’ NAZAD DVAZHDY

  (LOOK BACK TWICE)

  Anya and Gwynn found their SUV waiting on the curb, just where the driver promised it would be. What they didn’t find, however, was the driver who’d delivered them to the restaurant. Instead, they discovered a woman in her late thirties perched behind the wheel.

  As they approached the Lexus, Gwynn made eye contact with the female driver, which caused her to shove open the door and leap from the car.

  Gwynn raised a reassuring hand. “It’s okay. We can get our own door. No worries.”

  The driver sprinted around the back of the car. “Uh-uh! You don’t get your own door when momma’s drivin’ you.” She held open the door as both passengers slid onto the back seat.

  The driver hopped back into her position behind the wheel and pulled the transmission into drive. Without checking over her shoulder or in the mirror, she cranked the wheel hard and accelerated into traffic to the sounds of horns and shouts.

  Gwynn gasped. “That’s one way to merge into a traffic lane.”

  “It ain’t for you, girl. It’s for blondie back there. I seen what you did to that fine-ass man. And you walked away, workin’ it! And you listen to momma when she tells you that man turned and looked back at you not once, girl, but two times. You hear me? Two times that man looked back at you. I hauled ass outta there so you could roll down that window and blow that fine man a kiss on the way by.”

  Without argument, Anya followed momma’s direction, rolled down the window, and puckered up. Volkov offered the slightest nod and turned the corner.

  Back at the apartment, they’d barely gotten through the door before Gwynn said, “That was a master class in how to have a man eating out of your hand. Holy Russian seduction, Batman. How do you do that?”

  Anya kicked off her heels and set the teapot on the stove. “All men are cavemen inside. I play with caveman with my eyes, my hands, and sometimes my body. Soon he tells me if he will disobey caveman inside of him. If this happens, I have ways to break through shell and let the caveman come out to play. I will teach to you also this after you learn to stay alive when people want to kill you.”

  Gwynn kicked out of her heels and leaned against the refrigerator. “Seriously, that was awesome to watch. I’ve got so much to learn. Maybe I should’ve been born in Russia, and then . . .”

  Anya turned and glared at her. “Never say this. You do not know what you’re saying. The things I was forced to learn and also things I was never permitted to do as child in Soviet Union, I never want these things for you. I will teach to you everything you want to learn, but I will never be cruel to you because I care for you. Cruelty can never be undone. You are lucky to be American at birth. Never forget this.”

  “You care for me?” Gwynn whispered.

  “Yes, I care deeply for you. I sometimes let myself pretend you are not doing all of this because it is your job, but because you are my friend.”

  Gwynn wrapped Anya in her arms. “Stop it. You’re going to make me cry, and big bad federal agents aren’t supposed to cry. Yes, it’s my job to work with you, but even if it weren’t, I’d still want to do it. I’m having the time of my life, and no matter what happens next, I’d never take away the time we’ve had together. I just wish it could’ve been under different circumstances.”

  Anya returned Gwynn’s hug. “I wish for this, also, but I am afraid my life will always be less than the lives other people get to have.”

  The whistling teapot terminated the moment, and minutes later, the two were curled up in opposite corners of the couch.

  Gwynn eyed the Russian through the steam leaving her mug. “What would you have done if Volkov didn’t grab Johnny-Mac when he did?”

  Anya took a sip. “I would have put Johnny-Mac onto floor. Sometimes Russian men like strong women. I was playing for him damsel in distress, first, but I had alternative idea if plan number one did not work.”

  Gwynn laughed. “I would’ve loved to have seen that, but for Johnny’s sake, I’m glad you didn’t have to do it. What do you think Volkov did to him in the alley?”

  Anya shrugged. “I think maybe he just frightened him. Volkov’s hands were smooth and soft with clean nails.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Men with hands without scars are not fighters. He is businessman. Volkov is strong, but he has hands of man who lives in safety and comfort. This kind of man does not make fights when it is not necessary.”

  “That’s what you noticed about him? His manicured nails and soft hands?”

  Anya took another sip of the steaming tea. “I notice everything about him, from feet to head.”

  Gwynn placed her mug on the end table. “Okay, then, let’s hear it. Give me the whole rundown.”

  Anya cradled her mug. “It is from foot to head, as I told you. His shoes were Italian, and bottoms were smooth. This means one of two possible things. He does not walk on sidewalk too much, or he recently bought new shoes. Wrinkles on top of shoes say to me they are not new, so he probably has a driver who drops him off everywhere he goes.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy that. Keep going.”

  “His watch was on right arm. This probably means he is left-handed. All of his whiskers are same length. Hair does not do this naturally, so he cuts whiskers with cutter designed to leave stubble.”

  “Why is that important?”

  “This means he is vain about appearance, and we can use this to make him feel self-conscious sometime in future to break his confidence and focus.”

  “You would’ve made a great cop, you know that?”

  “I made even better assassin.”

  Gwynn cocked her head. “But I thought you said killing always hurts.”

  “Yes, this is true, and pulling splinter from finger also hurts, but is better after. I never kill innocent people—only splinters in the world, and world is always better after.”

  Gwynn allowed the smile to come. “Sort of like Leo in Miami?”

  “Exactly like that.”

  Gwynn stared down at her toes. “You know . . . I have a confession about what happened that morning in Miami.”

  “A confession?”

  She traced the rim of her mug with her fingertips. “Yeah, when I saw you lying there, I thought he was really going to shoot you.”

  “Yes, of course. This is what he would have done if you were not there to kill him.”

  “Yeah, that’s the thing,” Gwynn said. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  Anya sat immediately upright. “What?”

  “Yeah, when that shard of glass left my grip, I was throwing at his gun hand, not his neck.”

  Anya frowned. “This is thing they teach to you at Academy?”

  “No, we were never taught to throw knives at the Academy.”

  Anya shook her head. “No, I know this. I mean, you were taught to use nonlethal force to stop someone from killing your partner?”

  “No, not really. I’m authorized to shoot in defense of myself, fellow agents, or bystanders, but I wasn’t shooting. I was throwing a piece of broken glass that slightly resembled a knife.”

  “This is same thing. You sent projectile toward my attacker with the intention of stopping him from killing me. Is same if shooting or throwing broken glass.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Gwynn said. “But anyway, what I was trying to tell you is that I missed my target.”

  Anya reached f
or her hand. “You saved my life. I had lost too much blood to fight, and he would have killed me.”

  Gwynn’s attention fell to her feet again. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you, but I’m a little afraid.”

  “Do not be afraid. Ask me anything. I will always answer if I can.”

  Gwynn didn’t look up. “It’s just that . . . I’ve been wondering . . . you know . . .”

  “No, I do not know. Please just say question.”

  “It’s not like I’m questioning your ability or anything. It’s just that I’ve been trying to figure out what happened. I mean, how did Leo get you in that position?”

  It was Anya’s turn to stare at her feet. “I must now tell confession. I made terrible decision. When Leo confronted me, I should have attacked him, but I made decision to be affectionate to calm him. This was worst plan. I reached for him, and he took my hand. At that moment, I thought my plan was working, but he jerked my arm and spun me around. I think then he kicked me into glass wall. I was cut from thousand pieces of glass and almost unconscious. This is when you saved me.”

  Gwynn squeezed Anya’s hand. “I hope I didn’t upset you by asking. I just couldn’t piece it together.”

  “Is always fine for you to ask. I made terrible mistake I will never make again, but I am thankful you were there.”

  “I’m glad I was there, too. I don’t ever want anything like that to happen again, but I’ll always have your back.”

  “And I will always have yours. Now, we must go to bed. We have date tomorrow to find setting for my diamond.”

  “Yes, we do,” Gwynn said. “I know it’s not really your diamond, but you have to be at least a little bit excited.”

  “I am very excited, and yes, it is my diamond.”

  Gwynn raised an eyebrow. “Uh, this is a criminal investigation, and that diamond will become evidence when all of this is over. That’s how it works.”

  “Perhaps that is how it works if Volkov gave to you first diamond, but I am not police officer.”

  Gwynn let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Yes, but there will be a trial, and we’ll have to prove chain of custody on every piece of evidence, including that diamond.”

 

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