by Webb Hubbell
“No apologies. I deserved it. I don’t know why I’m not more scared. Yes, I got swept up in the circumstances and events until I almost got myself killed. Yes, I was careless–once again, I let bedroom eyes and a nice figure get the best of me. I had a feeling Moira was our mole, but I thought I could outsmart her. Maybe I thought I could turn her. Okay . . . I was a fool.” She’d rolled her eyes in disbelief.
“I was wrong and foolish and almost paid the price. Thank God and Debbie, I didn’t die, but I owe it to Doug, Liz, Micki, and Debbie not to run away scared. And I owe this to Angie. She believed in Doug, and she saw this coming. It mattered to her, and I wasn’t paying attention. I’ve got to see this to the end, but I promise to be more careful. Believe it or not, I think I’m close. If I’m right, we’ve fallen into one hell of a mess. I need to hear what Novak has to say, and I need to consult Liz. If they confirm what I suspect, we’ll know for sure what we’re up against.”
She sighed. “So tell me what you think is going on.”
“Not yet. I need to know whether I’m right or whether we’re back to square one. Maggie, either way, I hope you’ll stay. I need you. Micki’s out of commission and Clovis has his hands full just keeping us alive. So it’s back to the old days—just you and me, kid.”
“Should I ask Walter to offer Clovis some help?”
“Let’s ask Clovis. Moira’s betrayal has shaken him. I trust him with my life, but we’re dealing with real pros. Moira must have been placed inside his organization weeks ago. The very existence of Moira suggests we’re up against more than a drug charge and Dub’s outsized ego. I certainly expect you to tell Walter what’s going on. In fact, if I’m right we’re going to need his help for more than security.”
“Really?” She was suddenly excited.
“Really. Somebody with serious money is behind all this, and it may take Walter’s help to flush him out.”
“You really don’t think it’s Novak or some competitor?”
“The smart money is on those two, and they’re probably right, but, no, I don’t.”
“Okay, I’ll wait, but this time I’m right beside you every step of the way. Well, not to see Novak, but everywhere else. I don’t want to be anywhere near a sex trafficker.”
“On that point, we’re in total agreement.”
Clovis and Debbie walked into the bar, both looking a good deal calmer.
“We’re on for tomorrow. We fly to Dallas in the morning. Sorry, but everyone gets searched. The three of you will meet for lunch at Fearing’s in the Ritz-Carlton. I’ll be in the lobby along with Novak’s bodyguard, and Dallas’s finest will be posted all over. I’m pretty comfortable this is on the up and up. Novak must feel pretty secure. He’s agreed to meet with Sam and one of his detectives afterward.”
“Clovis, I know this isn’t a set-up. Novak has as much to gain as we do if we find the real culprit. Does Sam want to fly down with us?” I asked.
“I asked, but he didn’t think it would look right. He and his detective are flying Southwest.”
“Just as well. I want to go to Memphis to see Liz tomorrow afternoon. I assume you’ve already spoken to the people protecting her.”
Clovis laughed. “I have. Apparently Liz is not the easiest person to protect. I also made sure they were on the up and up—after all, they were hired by Moira.”
“Okay. Let’s talk about security. You’ve got Paul and his team watching Micki. That means you’ve got me, Debbie, and now Maggie, full-time. It won’t have gone unnoticed that Maggie was with me in Oklahoma City.”
Maggie opened her mouth, but Clovis was ready.
“I’m not comfortable with Debbie staying at Micki’s office tonight. I’d rather have everyone here, so my people aren’t spread out.”
“She can stay with me. I’m glad to have the company,” Maggie interjected.
“Thanks. You saved me from asking. Jack, I’m sure you remember Martin, who provides security for Walter’s company. He’s agreed to help with some of his men. Moira made me question my procedures, and I need the manpower,” Clovis said.
“Don’t kick yourself over Moira. She was a professional sent here to do a job. You couldn’t have seen this coming,” I said.
“Clovis, look at Jack—he went daft the moment he saw her.” Maggie kidded, not knowing half the story.
“You guys leave Jack alone,” Debbie jumped in. “Men are easy to seduce, but Moira was a pro. It takes one to know one—I should have warned you. But I never imagined she was a hired killer.”
None of us could come up with an apt response. I wondered . . .
I broke the awkward silence. “This has been one hell of a day—I feel like a big, juicy burger and a cold beer. Sam told me the Buffalo Grill has one of the best burgers in town and pretty good cheese dip to boot, so let’s go. Clovis, you need some down time— let your men take tonight’s shift. I need you at your best tomorrow.”
His worried face relaxed into a grin. “A plate of extra crispy fries sounds good to me, too.”
“You, too, ladies. Tomorrow I meet the infamous Novak. By the end of the day we may know who’s behind this whole thing.”
FRIDAY
April 25, 2014
35
BURGERS, CRISPY FRIES, and cold beer hit the spot, but I was ready to crash the moment we got back to the hotel. My head felt like the inside of a Levon Helm drum. I threw back a couple of Advil, but sleep was elusive, and the few times I nodded off the nightmares were worse than my pounding head. It was hard to imagine I was about to meet the evil Novak. I got out of bed around five o’clock. Even a long hot shower didn’t help much.
I managed some coffee and sourdough toast with a surprisingly talkative Debbie and, before long, my motley crew was buckled safely in Walter’s plane, ready for Dallas. After take-off the pilot let Debbie come up front, exciting her to no end, and saving me from begging her to be quiet. Maggie knew my moods well enough to let me be, and I used the quiet time to try to will my headache away.
Sooner than I had hoped, we were on the ground and on our way to the Ritz with a friend of Clovis’s, who had helped him iron out the day’s details.
Now Debbie sat quietly in the back seat, twisting her scarf nervously through her fingers.
“Debbie, I’m sorry. Are you still okay with this? I know you must be scared, at least a little.”
“Well, a little. But I’m okay. Maggie and I had a long talk last night. She’s a very good listener. Novak will try to mess with my head, that’s his way. But I’ve heard it before, and this time I’m ready. But you and Clovis need to be ready, too. He won’t threaten us, and I don’t think we’re in any kind of physical danger, but he loves playing mind games.”
We stepped out of the car and into the elegant tasteful lobby of the Ritz. I spotted Novak easily, slouching carelessly in an overstuffed chair. A surly bodyguard paced behind him. Novak looked nothing like my preconceived image of a Russian gangster. Thinning brown hair, slight build, pencil neck, and no bling or earrings. He stood a little less than six feet, wore a tailored business suit and Italian shoes.
I reached out to shake his hand, but his bodyguard stepped between us and grunted, “First, you’re searched.” His accent was straight out of the movies. We went to a small private room where we’d agreed to be checked for recording devices and weapons. After the door was shut, Novak’s bodyguard pointed to me.
“Take off all your clothes.”
This had not been part of the agreement.
Clovis spoke strongly. “He will not. This isn’t a prison–hell, it’s not even an airport. And what about Debbie? She’s not going to take her clothes off in front of you or him.” Novak remained silent. So this was one of his mind games.
“Take off clothes or no meeting.” I was sure the bodyguard could speak better English, but he played his part well. I looked coldly at Novak and was turning to walk away, when Debbie unexpectedly pulled up her sweater.
Clovis said hoarsely, “Wh
at are you doing?”
Debbie responded with a bored shrug. “He’s seen it all before. I don’t mind if you don’t. I’m not ashamed.” Her sweater was off and on the floor, and she had started to unbutton her jeans when we heard:
“Stop. This is not necessary.”
Debbie stood up straight, her well-rounded breasts directed squarely at Novak, almost a challenge.
“Put your sweater back on,” he said brusquely. Debbie didn’t move. Who was playing mind games now?
“Please, Ms. Kotrova. My apologies. This is not necessary.” He turned to the guard, giving him a hard stare. I took the hand he offered me, a little gingerly, I admit.
“My apologies, Mr. Patterson. Yuri takes his job very seriously. Let us go into the dining room, have a little lunch, and talk.”
Clovis was supposed to frisk Novak, but he had the good sense not to act. Debbie pulled on her sweater and we followed Novak, leaving Clovis and the bodyguard in the lobby.
“Please, call me Jack. What should I call you?”
Debbie replied for him. “His Christian name is Alexander Novak. He once told me that only his enemies called him Novak. His friends call him Alex.”
Novak looked at Debbie in surprise. “You remember.”
“I remember.” Her tone was nonchalant, the words almost toss-away. I wondered . . . but Alex’s voice brought me back to reality.
“Please call me Alex. We are hardly enemies; I owe you a great deal. But first, let us drink together. I understand you appreciate good wine. I’ve asked the maître’d for something special. If his choices don’t meet with your approval, please ask for whatever you like.”
Debbie had told me to expect this type of hospitality, but I certainly wasn’t expecting the excellent French Bordeaux or the Flora Springs Chardonnay the waiter was carefully uncorking. “Alex” seemed pleased, and I wasn’t paying for it, so why not enjoy the wine and go with the flow? We started with the Chardonnay. He spoke to Debbie in what I assumed was Russian, but she interrupted.
“Alex, we should talk in English. Jack must know everything that is said.” Again, Debbie didn’t seem to be intimidated. But as Novak lifted the wine bottle, I saw her swallow and look away for just a second.
He lifted his glass and said “My apologies. I haven’t had the pleasure of Debbie’s company in some time. It’s my nature to compliment her, but she rightfully reminds me why we are here.”
I raised mine to Debbie. “Debbie can indeed be a distraction, a very pleasant one. I wish we were here only to enjoy her company, outstanding wine, and a good meal. But, that’s not the case. I hope you won’t mind if I’m direct. You claim you’re not responsible for the attacks on Ms. Lawrence or me and that someone is trying to frame you. Frankly, I hope that’s true.
“The person who tried to kill me goes by the name of Moira Kostov, surely not her real name. Sam Pagano thinks you hired her. I don’t. Why would you? You have the means to order an execution without hiring an outsider. Nor do I think one of your competitors tried to frame you. Little Rock isn’t that big a market—sorry. I think the common denominator is Doug Stewart, a chemistry professor at UALR.”
Novak regarded his glass with appreciation and took a generous sip. “Actually, her name really is Moira Kostov, although she’s used different names in the past. Moira is a professional assassin, a very dangerous woman, and she doesn’t come cheap. She’s in Rio now, but when she hears you are alive, she will be very unhappy, as will the person she works for, and his client. She will come back to finish the job. She has a reputation to protect—sorry.” He looked at me evenly.
“Well, I admit I find that prospect somewhat troubling. All the more reason to figure out who’s behind all this.”
Novak put his wine glass down abruptly. “When I find out who that person is, I will take care of that problem for you.”
“Thanks, but I’d rather you didn’t. Let me tell you what I think. You can tell me where I’m wrong.”
“I’m listening.”
“The Feds have pulled out all the stops when it comes to Doug Stewart—something not’s right. Micki saw it first. Growing fifty plants, even a hundred, is small potatoes. The Feds have more or less decided to leave marijuana alone. So, normal procedure—they would have turned the case over to the local prosecutor or done nothing. Instead, Blanchard is all over the airwaves gloating about a major drug bust and terrorism. At first, Micki thought he was grandstanding, but when they moved Dr. Stewart to Oklahoma using the cover of national security, she knew something else was up.”
Novak responded. “Dr. Stewart wasn’t dealing drugs in any big way. I would have known. I’ve never heard of the guy. I’ve asked around and nobody, I mean nobody, knows of a single person who bought weed or anything else from him. No one is looking for a new dealer since he was busted. I, of course, do not engage in the sale of illegal drugs.”
“So I’ve been told.” Determined not to lose control, I allowed myself a swallow of the Flora Springs. It was a lovely wine, clean and almost effervescent.
“The events smack of smoke and mirrors, but Blanchard’s prosecution of Doug Stewart is real enough. I told the court at what should have been his arraignment that Micki would act as lead counsel. Her reputation is to dig and dig deep. Someone decided he couldn’t risk her discovering what lies behind the smoke. They decided to kill her and frame you for the murder. Everyone knows you have it in for Micki. You’re the perfect scapegoat.”
“Do you really think the government would do such a thing to win a case?” Debbie asked.
“No, I can’t go that far. No, it’s someone who stands to gain, big time and big bucks. I don’t see Dub and his gang hiring Moira. I mean, how would they have found her and how could they pay her? The same people who planned Micki’s abduction grabbed me after they realized I wasn’t going to walk away. Moira all but told me that. She also said you’d be the dupe again.”
Novak cringed at the word “dupe.” He poured more wine just as the waiter delivered the first course. The crab cakes were superb, and we took a minute to appreciate them. The crab was fresh and succulent; the cakes contained only a hint of breadcrumbs. Novak was obviously thinking. After a few bites, he looked up.
“Why would I want to kill Micki? How would I benefit?” He turned to Debbie, who shrank back a little. “You were special, Debbie, one of a kind. My customers miss you. I miss you, moy kotenok. You made me good money. The man who ruined you is, shall we say, no longer with us. But I’m not stupid. If I killed Micki, nothing would stop Sam Pagano until I was under his jail. It may surprise you, but I’m getting out of the business. I’ve learned you can steal more money legally in this country than you can make illegally, with far fewer complications. I’ll be totally out in a year. But I still have my sources. Moira’s contract didn’t originate in Little Rock. She was placed in Detroit to do another job. I have no idea why she was moved to Little Rock.”
“Do your sources know the identity of the slimy guy she left me with?”
“His name is Jan Stosur. He is, you would say, a little fish.” He raised his hands in a quick, dismissive gesture. “He has dug his own grave.”
I felt a little bead of perspiration form on my forehead. Novak had confirmed my suspicions, but the details were more than a little troubling. I felt like I had a big fish on my line, and the fish was playing me. I tried to keep my face calm, resisting the urge to wipe my brow.
Novak asked the hovering waiter to decant the Bordeaux. Another waiter brought in pomegranate duck served over a mushroom risotto. I took a tentative forkful, surprised to find myself hungry.
Debbie excused herself to the bathroom, and I used the opportunity to ask a question I had hesitated to ask in front of her. Novak confirmed my suspicion, another tidbit to put in the bank.
After a few bites I put the fork down and regarded my host thoughtfully, “Why did you ask for this meeting?”
“You have encountered many obstacles. Most men with your intelligence
would take their marbles and go home. You haven’t. So, I’ve concluded you and I are not so different.”
A compliment to me, or to him?
Novak took another bite of duck, followed by a swallow of wine, and continued.
“You and I are not fools, so I’m going to let you in on information I would normally keep to myself. Before I do, I must ask your pledge.”
“I’m a man of my word.”
“That I already know, or we wouldn’t be enjoying lunch together. You must promise that you will do everything you can to protect Debbie. Moira will surely realize it was Debbie who found you. Debbie is a loose end, and Moira’s employer doesn’t leave loose ends. Debbie won’t let me protect her, and I understand why. So, I want your word that you will protect her.”
“You have my word. Without asking.”
Debbie had slipped quietly into her chair just a few seconds earlier. She hadn’t said a word.
Novak smiled and poured us each a glass of the Bordeaux.
“What else? You must want something more.”
“You may never reveal the source of your information—to anyone. Not to Micki, not to your friend Sam, or anyone else. You may tell them what I am about to tell you, but you must never reveal your source. Only you and Debbie know the source.”
“I agree.” I had no idea what I was about to hear, but I was definitely interested.
Novak raised his glass, examined the wine’s color, and said, “Dub Blanchard is dirty. I don’t know what that means to you, but it’s a fact you may wish to consider.”
You could have heard a pin drop. I stared at this Russian thug, knowing I had heard the truth. He had finished his wine and signaled easily to the waiter.
“I will honor our agreement, but I must ask. How do you know?”
“He was a client. He was Novak’s client for many years.”
The small voice was Debbie’s. I turned to see her bright red face. I admit my attempts at a poker face failed. How could she have not said anything earlier?