Deadlock

his own and come up with something that he thought might still be of interest. Hence the trip to Moscow.'

'And his sudden reversal of fortune,' Dardon said.

Garrett nodded. 'It does seem a probable connection.'

'I'm tired of probable,' Emily said. 'I want to find out. Where do we go from here?'

'Pakistan,' Garrett said. 'We'll change to a jet and head for New York.'

'That's what you said in Rome.' To Emily it seemed a hundred years ago that she'd found out that they were going to Kabul instead of New York. Murder and pursuit and the discovery of that amulet that meant absolutely nothing to them right now.

'This time it's a promise.' Garrett lifted her into the helicopter. 'I just had to check Nemid out after what you told me.'

She braced herself. 'You said that I'd said other things that you thought might help. What were they?'

He was silent a moment. 'At one point Staunton was asked to come and talk to someone who had driven up to the camp to see him. He left you and Levy for a few moments.'

She gazed at him blankly. 'I don't remember…' But now she vaguely recalled muttering something last night in that fever of memories. 'Why would I blank that out? Why couldn't I remember he-'

'You were sort of-' He shrugged, then said, 'You couldn't focus on anything but Levy. That was the night that Staunton had given Borg the order to burn out Levy's eyes.'

Her back went stiff as if he'd struck her. The memory of that night was right before her. 'And Borg didn't stop,' she whispered. 'Staunton left the hut, but Borg didn't stop. And then he came back and said to Borg. 'Let me help. You're not doing it right.''

'Stop it.' Garret shook her gently. 'I told you that I'd never ask you to remember again. But I had to answer when you asked.'

She nodded jerkily. 'I know.' She remembered something else. 'That next day Staunton was probing, digging at me, saying some¬thing about my blanking out things. It might be that he was trying to find out if I'd paid any attention to his leaving. Why… do you think that visitor was important?'

'Because Staunton cursed, and said, 'Damn Babin. He's always nosing around, checking up on me.' '

'Babin?'

'Yes.' He climbed into the helicopter. 'It's important, but it was going to take too much time to make the connection right away so I called Dardon and told him to start checking for a Babin. But I could see the link with Nemid that had possibilities, and we acted on that lead.' He turned to Dardon. 'Take off.'

'In a minute. I have something more. I want to reveal my super-sleuthing and get praise heaped upon me.'

'You found out something more about Zelov?' Emily asked. 'No, more important. Staunton.' 'What?' Garrett asked.

'Do you remember I told you that Staunton might be a pseudo¬nym for a Robert Hurker?' 'And is it?'

'Yes, it's only one of many. I had time when I was with Irana to buckle down and dig deeper. He doesn't use Staunton very often. He seems to save it for the times when there's no danger of him being booked. That's why I wasn't able to trace the name.'

'Tell me about Hurker.'

'Born in Melbourne, Australia. His father was a fisherman, his mother a whore until his father took her off the streets. He grew up in Sydney. He was booked for burglary and assault with a deadly weapon when he was ten. After that it was straight downhill. He almost beat a shopkeeper to death when he was fifteen and got off because he was a minor.' He paused. 'His mother and baby sister fell overboard off his father's fishing boat and drowned when he was sixteen. He pretended to be heartbroken. The social worker who had his case said that there was a possibility he did it himself. It got too hot in Sydney, and he dis¬appeared for a while. He was going to the university and when he came back, the only thing he'd learned was how to be smarter and more vicious. He took off for France, and has been hopping about the world and doing what he does best.'

'Murder,' Emily said. It was strange thinking of Staunton as a child, even the vicious child painted by Dardon. It was as an adult that he had dominated her life and imagination.

'Evidently he does it well enough to earn a sizeable income,' Dar¬don said. 'And attract very affluent clients.'

'Where does he live?'

Dardon shook his head. 'No address. He moves around a lot.' 'Can we contact any of those clients and see if they know any¬thing more about Staunton than we do.'

'If we have the time,' Garrett said. 'I'm not sure we will. We'd do better to concentrate on having him come to us.'

'I'm still checking.' Dardon started the engine, and the rotors be¬gan to spin. 'I'll let you know if I come up with anything.'

But they knew more than they had moments before. They could see the pattern, where he had come from. Staunton had been a mon¬ster who had dominated her thoughts and emotions since the first mo¬ment she had seen him. Now he was being made into a human being.

'He did kill his mother,' Garrett said. 'He told me that he'd taken care of the bitch. He didn't mention the baby.'

'It probably wasn't important to him.' Emily said. 'What differ¬ence does the life of a little baby make?' Her lips tightened. 'I want to show him how much of a difference it makes. I want to-' She stopped. Control. Keep cool and calm. 'How long before we'll reach that airport in Connecticut?'

ELEVEN

'YOUR GUN.' GARRETT HANDED her a box when he came out of the tall brick building at which they'd stopped after they'd landed at the small private airport in Connecticut. 'A.40-caliber Glock as you re¬quested. I'd like to see you shoot sometime.'

She shook her head. 'After my father taught me, he said I should never pick up a gun unless I meant to use it. He was in Special Services before he became a photographer. He never wanted to kill anything or anyone again, but he knew there was always a threat out there.' She smiled reminiscently. 'I got pretty good. He used to tell me that he'd put me up against any of the guys in his unit. It was bullshit, but it gave me confidence later when I had to deal with the scum who were trash¬ing the museums.' She opened the box. 'Nice. Is that all you bought here?'

'No, Dardon is picking up some long-range electronic equipment. He'll be out in a minute.' 'Electronic equipment?'

'We're going to see if we can trigger a response from Mr. Zelov.' 'Got it.' Dardon opened the car door and got into the backseat. 'Pretty sophisticated. It may be good enough.'

'Providing this is the right Zelov, and he has a guilty conscience.'

Garrett started the car. 'We'll have to see. Or rather Emily will have to see.'

Emily looked at him in surprise. 'What?'

'I think you should be the one to do the Q and A on Nicholas Zelov. He might be less defensive.' 'Why?'

'What did you tell me about the private life of Nicholas Zelov?'

She glanced down at the computer she'd been studying since she'd gotten on the jet in Pakistan. 'He's divorced, no children, parents dead, was in drug rehab eight years ago. Likes women, loves gambling, hates work.' She looked up. 'Evidently not like his rather bizarre an¬cestor.'

'Likes women.' Garrett said. 'And I phoned his house while I was buying your gun. He's not at home, but the housekeeper said that he was at Foxworth, a very plush casino near here.' He quoted. ' 'Loves gambling.' Put the two together and we might hit a home run.'

'What am I supposed to do?'

'That's up to you.' He got on the freeway. 'It should take us about ten minutes to get there. Tell me about what else you found out about Nicholas Zelov and his great-great-grandfather, Mikhail.'

She pointed at the photo on the monitor of a palatial-looking man¬sion on the hill beyond the wrought-iron