Moscow Blue. Philip Kurland
must go on, as they say.’
‘Maybe you should take a vacation. Will you be able to concentrate with all this on your mind?’
‘Oh, sure. It’ll be difficult but I’ve just got to get over it like lots of others do. So I’m gonna get on with drumming up some business.’
‘You called me about something,’ said Spence, sensing it was time to change the topic of conversation.
‘Oh yes. Advice.’
‘Ask away.’
‘I’ve been waiting for you to get back, ‘cause I’d like to bounce something off you.’ He began to doodle on his blotter. ‘You’ll think I’m crazy, but I’m considering getting involved in an osmium deal.’ He paused, wincing, expecting a verbal tirade. ‘What d’you think? Honestly? Because to tell the truth, Jack, I’m pissed off with this job, even before Paul’s death. I find the work boring. I need something more stimulating and challenging. Something new. Maybe something big. And that’s why I’m interested in this offer.’
‘Well,’ came Jack’s deep, controlled voice, ‘after the vicious way Paul died, you know what I’m going to say about big deals, don’t you?’
‘Vicious? How vicious?’
‘Well, being garrotted is vicious isn’t it? Very vicious.’
‘Garrotted? He was garrotted? I thought he was drowned.’
‘Shit. I thought you knew.’
9
Moscow
Crocker dropped his pen onto the floor. ‘Christ, they didn’t tell me that. Shit. The message was that he was thrown into the river and later found dead.’
‘Oh my God. I thought you knew.’
‘Oh, Christ.’ Crocker changed hands with the phone. He felt the blood drain from his extremities and felt a little sick.
For once in his long career, Jack Spence was lost for words. For a few moments, there was silence.
‘I’m so sorry. It was in all the papers. He was killed then thrown in. The report said he’d been in the Moskva for some days before he was found wedged between two barges tied up for the season.’ Hearing nothing, Jack asked, ‘Are you okay, Lee? D’you want me to come over and help demolish a bottle of booze?’
‘No. No, I appreciate your offer, Jack, and for telling me. It’s just that I didn’t know. I can’t tell Dad. It’ll kill him. It wouldn’t take much these days.’
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Sure. Sure.’
‘I really thought you knew. I’m so sorry to dump that on you like that.’
‘No, it’s okay. I wanted to find out what happened, but what a way to go. Oh man, I think I’m gonna throw up.’
‘Lee?’
‘No, I’m okay now.’
‘Now you know what’s happened, shouldn’t you just get out and take up turkey farming?’
‘Well, I’ll be damned if I’m gonna run away and not get to the bottom of this. What in hell was he up to?’
‘I knew he was into something from the way he was behaving over the last few months. You know how chatty he was. Then he started keeping himself to himself and didn’t want to talk much. But he didn’t let on.’
‘No ideas?’
‘Nope. Not one. Except he was probably mixing with the mafia, or something like that. You don’t get garrotted for messing with the taxman, not even in Russia. Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘Yup. I felt a little sick when you told me, but it’s as good as passed.’
‘I’m so sorry to be the bearer of bad news. I really thought you knew.’
‘No, don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t hang this on you. I’m okay now. I’m fine. Really. Don’t worry about it. I’ve just got to keep my mind occupied. I’ve got to find out why.’
‘I understand, of course. But what can you do? What do you want to do? There’s nothing in the papers now so I guess the police are no longer interested. You could get yourself into serious trouble here mixing with the wrong people as you darn well know. He’s gone and you can’t bring him back. You can’t do it on principle. Your life’s worth more than a principle. As an individual, it’s very difficult taking the law into your own hands here in Russia. What have you got to go on?’
‘Not much.’
‘And this deal of yours? Why do you want to do it? You said you need the money?’
‘Business is slowly going down the tubes and with Paul gone, my sister-in-law’ll need considerable funding, what with a mortgage and five kids all in school. At least I’ve got to try and see where it goes. I’m the only one who can make things straight.’
‘That’s a very good reason, Lee. There ain’t many guys around who’d do it. But isn’t there any way other than getting involved with osmium? Do you know and trust the seller?’
‘You mean, is it real?’
‘Is there any reason it shouldn’t be?’
‘Sometimes no-hope Russians dream up big deals with big numbers, hoping some crumbs’ll fall off the table before you discover it’s a waste of fucking time. But there’s something that rings true about this offer.’
There was silence while Jack considered.
‘Well, then,’ he started, ‘as long as you know there’s a ninety-nine-plus percent chance of wasting your time, go for it. You’re a big boy now. It’s only gonna cost you time, and sleepless nights, and maybe your life.’
Crocker stopped doodling with a jolt. He hadn’t expected such a melodramatic response. He paused to regain his line of thought.
‘It’s just that it’s part of a bigger deal, which could involve the U.S. Government. If there’s a chance, I want to take it. I need to take it. If it comes off, I’ll tell you about it one day from my island off Mexico.’
‘Okay, it sounds as if you’ve no choice and you’ve made your mind up. I really do wish you luck, Lee. Let me know how it turns out. But…’ He paused. ‘Watch your back. I really mean that. You know what I’m saying, don’t you? Good friends are hard to find, especially here in Moscow. From what I’ve heard, osmium means big bucks and that brings out the worst in people. These deals attract the most unscrupulous and dangerous characters. But then you probably knew that already. So let’s eat together soon. And again, I’m sorry for breaking the news the way I did.’
‘Sure,’ said Crocker. ‘I’ll catch you just as soon as things have gotten a little settled.’
Jack’s news had left Crocker weak and a little shaky, but after a few minutes, when the effects of shock had passed off, he knew he felt better for the conversation. Now at least he had learned some facts to get him going, asking questions.
From the bottom drawer of his desk, he took the half-empty bottle of Glenmorangie, and sinking back into his chair, eyes tightly shut, took a long slug. The relaxing effect was almost instant, allowing him to consider his options once again.
He picked up the pad from his desk and spent the next few minutes drafting and redrafting a letter to Gerry Weinberg, his New York manager. He was careful to strike a balance between, convincing Gerry that Slava’s deal deserved his experienced attention, and inadvertently giving too much away to a third party who might be intercepting the message locally. When he was satisfied he had it right, he pressed his intercom button.
‘Lina? Come in, please. And bring a notepad.’