«Dana?» It was Tim Drew.
«Yes, Tim.»
«Any luck yet?»
«I'm afraid not.»
«Well, while you're in Moscow, you shouldn't miss what's great here. The ballet is on tonight. They're doingGiselle. Are you interested?»
«Very much, thank you.»
«I'll pick you up in an hour.»
The ballet was held at the six-thousand-seat Palace of Congresses inside the Kremlin. It was a magical evening. The music was wonderful, the dancing was fantastic, and the first act flew by swiftly.
As the lights came on for the intermission, Tim got to his feet. «Follow me. Quick.»
A stampede was starting up the stairs.
«What's going on?»
«You'll see.»
When they arrived at the top floor, they were greeted by the sight of half a dozen serving tables laden with bowls of caviar and bottles of vodka on ice. The theatergoers who had arrived upstairs first were busily helping themselves.
Dana turned to Tim. «They really know how to put on a show here.»
Tim said, «This is how the upper class lives. Remember that thirty percent of the people live below the poverty line.»
Dana and Tim moved toward the windows, away from the crowd.
The lights started to flash. «Time for the second act.»
The second act was enchanting, but Dana's mind kept flashing back to snatches of conversations.
Taylor Winthrop wasscheisse. He was clever, very clever. He framed me…
It was an unfortunate accident. Gabriel was a wonderful boy…
Taylor Winthrop wiped out the Mancino family's future…
When the ballet ended, and they were in the car, Tim Drew said, «Would you like to have a nightcap at my apartment?»
Dana turned to look at him. He was attractive, intelligent, and charming. But he was not Jeff. What came out was «Thank you, Tim. But no.»
«Oh.» His disappointment was obvious. «Maybe tomorrow?»
«I'd love to, but I have to be ready early in the morning.»And I'm madly in love with someone else.
Early the next morning Dana was at the Bureau for International Economic Development again. The same guard was behind the desk.
«Dobry dyen.»
«Dobry dyen.»
«I'm Dana Evans. If I can't see the commissar, can I see his assistant?»
«Do you have an appointment?»
«No. I—»
He handed Dana a sheet of paper. «You will fill this out…»
When Dana returned to her room, her cell phone was ringing, and Dana's heart skipped a beat.
«Dana…»
«Jeff!»
There was so much they wanted to say. But Rachel stood between them like a ghostly shadow, and they could not discuss what was uppermost in their minds: Rachel's illness. The conversation was guarded.
The call from Commissar Shdanoff's office came unexpectedly at eight o'clock the following morning. A heavily accented voice said, «Dana Evans?»
«Yes.»
«This is Yerik Karbava, the assistant to Commissar Shdanoff. You wish to see the commissar?»
«Yes!» She half expected him to say, «Do you have an appointment?» Instead he said, «Be at the Bureau for Economic Development in exactly one hour.»
«Right. Thank you very—» The line went dead.
One hour later Dana was entering the lobby of the huge brick building again. She walked up to the same guard seated behind the desk.
He looked up. «Dobry dyen?»
She forced a smile. «Dobry dyen. I'm Dana Evans, and I'm here to see Commissar Shdanoff.»
He shrugged. «I'm sorry. Without an appointment—»
Dana held on to her temper. «I have an appointment.»
He looked at her skeptically. «Da?» He picked up a telephone and spoke into it for a few moments. He turned to Dana. «Third floor,» he said reluctantly. «Someone will meet you.»
Commissar Shdanoff's office was huge and shabby and looked as though it had been furnished in the early 1920s. There were two men in the office.
As Dana entered, they both stood up. The older man said, «I am Commissar Shdanoff.»
Sasha Shdanoff appeared to be in his fifties. He was short and compact, with wispy gray hair, a pale, round face, and restless brown eyes that constantly darted around the room as though searching for something. He had a heavy accent. He was wearing a shapeless brown suit and scuffed black shoes. He indicated the second man.
«This is my brother, Boris Shdanoff.»
Boris Shdanoff smiled. «How do you do, Miss Evans?»
Boris Shdanoff looked totally unlike his brother. He appeared to be about ten years younger. He had an aquiline nose and a firm chin. He was dressed in a light blue Armani suit with a gray Hermиs tie. He had almost no accent at all.
Sasha Shdanoff said proudly, «Boris is visiting from America. He is attached to the Russian embassy in your capital, Washington, D. C.»
«I've admired your work, Miss Evans,» Boris Shdanoff said.
«Thank you.»
«What can I do for you?» Sasha Shdanoff asked. «Do you have a problem of some kind?»
«No, not at all,» Dana said. «I wanted to ask you about Taylor Winthrop.»
He looked at her, puzzled. «What is it you wish to know about Taylor Winthrop?»
«I understand that you worked with him, and that you saw him socially, on occasion.»
Sasha Shdanoff said cautiously, «Da.»
«I wanted to get your personal opinion of him.»
«What is there to say? I think he was a fine ambassador for your country.»
«I understand he was very popular here and—»
Boris Shdanoff interrupted. «Oh, yes. The embassies in Moscow have many parties, and Taylor Winthrop was always—»
Sasha Shdanoff scowled at his brother. «Dovolno!» He turned back to Dana. «Ambassador Winthrop sometimes went to the embassy parties. He liked people. The Russian people liked him.»
Boris Shdanoff spoke up again. «As a matter of fact, he told me that if he could—»
Sasha Shdanoff snapped, «Molchat!» He turned. «As I said, Miss Evans, he was a fine ambassador.»
Dana looked at Boris Shdanoff. He was obviously trying to tell her something. She turned back to the commissar. «Did Ambassador Winthrop ever get in any kind of trouble while he was here?»
Sasha Shdanoff frowned. «Trouble? No.» He was avoiding her eyes.
He's lying, Dana thought. She pressed on. «Commissar, can you think of any reason why someone would murder Taylor Winthrop and his family?»
