Hidden in the Stars

by Robin Caroll

  “In Russian?” Alena laughed. “I am Russian. I can help you. What are words?”

  “Come see.” She went into the living room and handed the paper to Alena. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Gde kostyum?”

  Sophia nodded.

  “It is asking where is the costume?”

  “And the other?” Charlie asked.

  “Should be shantazhirovali?” Alena asked, frowning.

  Sophia nodded.

  “Means blackmail.”

  Sophia’s heart skipped a beat, then went into overdrive. She looked at Charlie. “You need to call Julian to come over here. I need to tell him about my dream.”

  Charlie tilted her head. “Uh, you want to tell Julian your dream?”

  “I thought it was a dream, but it wasn’t a dream, I think it was a memory of some sort but I didn’t think—”

  “Whoa, slow down a minute. Your lips are moving too fast and I can’t keep up.”

  “It wasn’t a dream. I was remembering something from the attack. I need to tell Julian.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Charlie dialed Julian.

  “This is Detective Julian Frazier. Leave a message.” The beep sounded.

  “Julian, it’s Charlie. I’m with Sophia. When you get a chance, we need you to come by. Sophia remembers something else about the attack she needs to tell you. Give me a call when you get this. Bye.” She set the phone on the coffee table. “I guess he’ll call as soon as he can.”

  Sophia closed her eyes and prayed it was soon.

  * * *

  “They’ve put out a BOLO on both Taras and Milton,” Brody told Captain Pittman.

  “A be on the lookout for is good, but it also means they aren’t in custody,” the Captain replied.

  “Little Rock PD checked both of their last known addresses. They weren’t found at either residence, but neither looked as if they’d been vacated, so we don’t have reason to believe they’ve fled,” Julian added.

  “The police will be going back to check their residences and known hangouts periodically today. We also have a watch for activity placed upon their credit cards and accounts,” Brody said.

  Captain Pittman nodded. “I don’t have to tell you two how far sideways the press has crawled up my back. The mayor’s calling every hour, wanting updates. I’m sure you can understand how I need for you two to be on top of this.”

  “Yes, sir,” they said in unison.

  “Okay. Keep me updated,” the captain said to dismiss them.

  They rounded the corner back to their desks just in time to hear Julian’s intercom start ringing. He sprinted to reach it. “Detective Julian Frazier.”

  “Detective, it’s Lee in forensics.”

  “Whatcha got?”

  “Remember we pulled two different types of blood from the quilt sample?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, we got the DNA back on them today.”

  Julian sat on the edge of his desk and reached for his key chain. “I’m listening.”

  “One of the samples, we got a hit on.”

  “The DNA was in the system?”

  “No. We got a hit on familial DNA.”

  “Uh, I’m not real sure what you mean, exactly, Lee. Let me put you on speakerphone so you can explain it to me and Brody at the same time.” He pressed the speaker button and replaced the handset. “Okay, go ahead.”

  “Basically, familial searching is an additional search of the DNA database conducted after a routine search has been completed and no profile matches are identified. Familial searching is new and is a deliberate search of a DNA database conducted to potentially identify close biological relatives to the unknown forensic profile obtained from crime scene evidence. First-order relatives, like siblings or parental relationships, will have more genetic data in common than unrelated individuals.”

  Julian looked at Brody, who shrugged. “I’m still not getting it, Lee.”

  “Okay, when I ran one of the DNA samples I got off the quilt through the system, it didn’t come back with a match. It did come back with enough genetic data match to let me know it’s a first-

  order relative to a sample already in the system.”

  “Who was the match to?” Brody asked.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  Julian spun his key ring. “Tell me.”

  “Boris Taras.”

  “So this means the DNA on the quilt . . .”

  “Has to belong to a first relative to Boris. A male relative.”

  Julian dropped his key ring on the desk. “Thanks, Lee.” His mind was ready to explode. Boris only had two first relatives: Igor and Dimitri, and according to records, Igor was dead. That only left Dimitri.

  “What about the other sample on the quilt?” Brody asked.

  “No hits.”

  “Thanks, Lee,” Brody said.

  “I’ll have the report sent right over to you guys.”

  Julian faced his partner. “We need to find out where Dimitri Taras is right now.”

  Brody’s fingers flew over his keyboard. “I’m on it.”

  This was it. Julian could feel it. They knew who the perps were and had solid forensic evidence to put away both Boris and Milton.

  Now . . . how to tie Dimitri into it. It had to be his DNA on the quilt, but why? And whose was the other? It wasn’t Nina’s.

  He lifted his key chain and spun it around his finger. His cell phone beeped, indicating a voice message. Julian played the message and heard Charlie’s voice. After erasing the message, he called Charlie’s number.

  “Hello.” She answered on the first ring.

  “Hey, Charlie. What’s up?”

  “Listen, Julian, Sophia had a dream, but it was actually a memory about the attack she needs to tell you about.”

  “We’re in the middle of working the case, Charlie. Can’t you just tell me over the phone?”

  “Sure. Hang on.” There was silence, then she was back. “Okay. She remembers one of the men, she doesn’t know which one because she couldn’t see, only could hear, and she didn’t realize what the words meant until today when I could spell them for Alena to translate.”

  “Okay.”

  “They asked Nina, ‘where is the costume?’ and then mentioned she should have never started the game of blackmail. Sophia says she has no idea what it means, but says she thinks it’s important.”

  Important? It was possible it’d just linked Dimitri Taras to the crime. “It’s exactly what I needed to know. Let me work out some angles here, then I’ll come there.”

  “Okay. We’ll see you later then.”

  “Charlie?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Keep the quilt of Nina’s safe, will ya? I think it ties this whole case together.”

  “Okay.”

  Julian lifted the intercom and dialed the extension.

  “Forensics, this is Lee.”

  “Just the man I needed to talk to. This is Detective Frazier.”

  “What can I do for you, Detective?”

  “You know the other blood stain you got the DNA from—the one with no matches found in the system?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Contact the Little Rock coroner’s office. See if they kept a sample on an open homicide from sixteen years ago. Victim’s name was Nadia Paley.”

  “I’m on it.”

  “Thanks.” Julian hung up the phone and told Brody about what Sophia had remembered. “We need the case file on Nadia Paley’s murder.”

  “Let me call Little Rock again and see if they can e-mail us a copy.” Brody made the call.

  Julian pulled the picture of the quilt out of the stack of case photographs. He stuck it to the center of their board. It was the center of this whole case.

  “Got it. Let me open the file.” Brody typed. “Okay. What are you looking for?”

  “Give me the details of her murder.”

  “Sixteen years ago, the New York City Ballet company took their prod
uction of the Nutcracker on tour. Nadia was cast in the role of a Sugar Plum Fairy. I’m printing a picture of the coverage of Nadia in the press to promote the play.”

  Brody continued. “According to the records, the performance in Little Rock was held on November twenty-first.”

  November. Interesting. Julian nodded at his partner, the familiar feeling tightening in his gut. The feeling he always got when they were about to blow a case wide open and solve it.

  “The performance went as usual, according to reviews, but two hours after the performance, when the stage manager was clearing all the dressing rooms, he found Nadia’s body. You already know the coroner’s report on cause of death.”

  Julian nodded, picking his key ring back up and spinning it.

  “Fill me in on your theory, partner.”

  “Let me grab Nadia’s photo.” He rushed to the printer, smiling as he snatched the printout, and returned to their board. He pinned the picture next to the photograph of the quilt. It was just what he expected. “I think sixteen years ago is when this all started. With Nadia Paley’s murder.” He pointed to the picture of Nadia, in her costume, then pointed to the center point of the quilt.

  “It’s the same outfit,” Brody said.

  Julian spun his key ring. “Yep. The one she was murdered in. I think somehow, some way, Nina Montgomery found out Dimitri killed her friend, Nadia. Even more, she somehow got Nadia’s costume with both Dimitri’s and Nadia’s blood on it, and everybody knew she wore it at the performance in Little Rock.”

  “Hold on a minute.” Brody typed on his computer. “I’m requesting the whereabouts of Dimitri on the night Nadia was murdered.” He made a few more keystrokes, then leaned back in his chair. “Okay. Done. Continue.”

  “So Nina has the costume with both Nadia and Dimitri’s blood on it, and she knows Dimitri murdered Nadia.”

  “Why doesn’t she come to the police?” Brody asked. “Nadia was her friend, according to Alena. Why doesn’t she come forward?”

  Julian sat on the edge of the desk, staring at the board. “Maybe she was scared of Dimitri? For some reason, she didn’t tell the police.”

  “Okay. I can buy the whole she-was-scared thing. Sounds like his family was pretty powerful.”

  “A year passes, and Dimitri doesn’t come for her. Maybe, for some reason, she realizes he doesn’t know what she knows, and what she has. Now Sophia’s talent in gymnastics is coming out, and Nina learns how expensive it’ll be for her daughter’s training. She doesn’t know how she’ll afford it but knows she needs it.”

  “And that’s when she decides to play the blackmail card.”

  Julian nodded at his partner. “Right. Somehow, she contacts Dimitri with the information of what she has and what she knows. She demands payment. Maybe she tells him up front it’ll be an annual payment, maybe not. She wasn’t greedy, just got enough to live on and pay for Sophia’s training.”

  Brody picked up the theorizing from there. “She sets up an elaborate wiring schedule to keep Dimitri from knowing who is exactly blackmailing him, but the money must come every November.”

  “Near the anniversary of Nadia’s death, to remind him what he did?”

  Brody shrugged. “Sounds good.”

  Julian pinned up the newspaper photograph of Sophia taken at Nina’s. “Now, remember Dimitri had been conducting a silent search for Nina for years. When this article hits, with Nina’s maiden name included, his investigation tips him off.”

  Brody nodded. “He sees this photo and despite the graininess, he recognizes Nadia’s costume.”

  “And realizes it’s Nina, the woman he’d once loved, who has been blackmailing him all these years.” Julian’s key ring spun faster and faster. “He’s furious, maybe even beyond furious, but also knows he can end the blackmail. End the whole thing.”

  “So he calls his brother, Boris, and childhood friend, Chester Milton, and tells them to handle his little problem for him.”

  Julian dropped his key chain onto the desk. “Wait a minute

  . . .” He flipped through the case files. Page after page. Scanning. Reading. Looking for— “Got it.” He pulls out Roger Parrish’s statement and pinned it to the board.

  “Well? I’m waiting.” Brody grinned.

  “Nina had to figure out the crazy wiring schedule, and she certainly hadn’t a clue how to do it. She needed help. Who better to give such advice than her neighbor who was retired from the financial business?”

  “I like it.”

  “Wait. It gets better.” Julian grinned and grabbed his key chain. “Roger and Linda Parrish plan to go see their daughter, and goodness knows they tell everyone. But what’s important is Roger had to tell the place where he volunteers, teaching classes to rehabilitated criminals. At the Little Rock YMCA. The same place Donald Obstfeld works.”

  Brody nodded. “The Donald Obstfeld who is a known associate of Boris Taras.” He typed on his computer. “Just in. According to records, at the time of Nadia Paley’s murder, Dimitri Taras was supposedly at home in New York City.”

  “Can we check flights and see if there’s proof to the contrary?”

  “Won’t do any good. Dimitri has his own plane. He lets various ballet bigwigs and such use it. And before you ask,” Brody shot Julian a stare across the desks, “the plane was in Little Rock that night and documentation showed several people were on the flight to attend the performance, but Dimitri isn’t listed as one of them.”

  “Easy enough to fudge your own plane’s passenger list. We know it can be done.”

  Brody nodded.

  Julian’s key ring spun like a top. “So the plan was set into motion. Break into Nina’s home, get the costume with the evidence, and kill Nina and Sophia.”

  “Do you think they realized Sophia would be there?”

  Julian nodded, dropping the key chain back to his desk. “I think they planned it well enough so they knew exactly who would be there, and they planned exactly what they’d do to them.”

  “But they didn’t get the costume with the evidence.”

  “And they didn’t kill Sophia.” And if Julian had anything to say about it, they wouldn’t, but they’d pay for hurting her.

  They’d pay dearly.

  The phone on Brody’s desk rang. “Detective Alexander.” A pause.

  “Yes.” Another pause.

  “Where?”

  Julian stared at his partner.

  “Okay. Thank you.” Brody hung up the phone. “There’s a hit on Boris Taras’s credit card. At a gas station about twenty miles east of Little Rock.”

  “Think they’re heading this way?”

  “Don’t know. They’ve dispatched the information to the sheriff’s department in the county, and they will call us as soon as they find them.”

  Julian stared at the picture of Boris on the board.

  What are you doing, Boris? What are you up to?

  18

  I don’t know any more than what he said on the phone,” Charlie said.

  Frustration squeezed Sophia’s heart. She wanted to see Julian, hear what he thought of her memories.

  “He did, however, tell me to make sure your quilt stayed safe.”

  The quilt.

  Sophia went to her room, got the quilt, and spread it out over the living room table. She tried to remember what her mother had said about the center costume.

  “It is very valuable, Sophia. We must always take care of the things important to us. You never know the true value of something until later. Much later.”

  Was it possible this costume of Nadia’s was what Mamochka had been talking about?

  “What are you thinking, Sophia?” Alena asked.

  “Well, why did my mother keep this costume of her best friend’s? Her best friend who was murdered?” Sophia mouthed, running her fingers over the delicate material. “It’s a little morbid to put it on a quilt we used as a tapestry as far back as I can remember.”

  “Is not morbid, MIlaya
Moyna. Is honoring Nadia. Remem-

  bering her.”

  Sophia shook her head. “No. If it was to honor or remember Nadia, Mamochka would have told me about her, like she told me stories about my father.”

  “Then why?” Alena asked.

  “Remembering what I recalled early this morning about the attack, I think she used this costume to blackmail someone in some way.”

  “For what?” Charlie asked. “I’m sorry, but it wasn’t like your mother lived in the lap of luxury. She worked at her studio and paid her bills. I don’t see any type of extravagant luxuries. Do you have a big savings account or something?”

  Sophia snorted. “I don’t even have a college fund. Gymnastics was always my future.”

  “See. So what would she be blackmailing anybody for?”

  “Gymnastics,” Alena said.

  “What?”

  “The training. Coaching. Instructing. All is expensive.” Alena wore a pained expression. “I know how expensive it can be. We mamochkas want the best for our daughters, so we do what we have to in order to provide for lessons and training.”

  Sophia stared silently at the costume. Had Mamochka blackmailed someone to pay for all of Sophia’s gymnastics training? Was this the reason they’d been attacked? And why she was killed?

  She blinked, but her vision was still blurred by the tears who ignored her demands they stay at bay.

  “Sophia. Are you okay?” Charlie asked.

  “It makes sense now. Why she got so upset when the picture in the paper came out. You could see the quilt, the costume. Not clearly, but you could tell it was a ballet costume. If you were familiar enough with the ballet world, you could probably tell what ballet it was from.” Sophia gestured toward Alena. “She knew right away it was the costume of a Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker.”

  “Costumes vary a little bit, but famous ballets do keep the basic design,” Alena said.

  “My mother must have known whoever she was blackmailing could see the picture and recognize the costume. It’s why she was so angry. It’s why she took the quilt and hid it in her room.”

  “This is why my Nina was murdered?” Alena reached for the quilt.

  Sophia snatched it up, clutching it to her chest. “No. It’s evidence. Julian said to keep it safe. I’m going to go put it up.” She went to her room and looked around. Where could she put it?