Deadlock

'He was heading for the terrace,' Emily said. 'You're recording him? You can do that from out here?'

'With the help of that little bug you planted.' Garrett nodded. 'Piece of cake with the right equipment. I didn't think we'd get much out of him, but I hoped your asking the questions would send him running.'

Dardon nodded. 'But we're not getting much. Zelov is in a panic, but the man he's talking to is only impatient, not informative.' He lis¬tened a moment, then turned the switch. 'That's it. He hung up.' He looked at Garrett. 'Do you want to stick around and see if he makes any other calls?'

'No.' He started the car and drove down the driveway. 'But I want to hear that call, and I want you to start trying to trace it. We'll check into a motel and go over it. Do you have a general location?'

Dardon nodded. 'I think it was somewhere in Russia.'

'That's pinning it down. '

'Best I can do right now.' He looked back down at his board. 'That may be the best I can do, period, if the line is as protected as I think. We may have to call in an expert to tap a phone-company database.'

Zelov had called Russia, Emily thought. Who in Russia had reached out tentacles to touch her, touch Zelov, touch Garrett? Deadly tenta¬cles. Even drunk, Zelov had been afraid when she'd mentioned the hammer.

'Okay?' Garrett asked, glancing at her.

She nodded. 'He was nervous when I was talking about the Book of Living, too. He was lying then.'

Garrett nodded. 'I'd be very curious to read what's in that Book of

Living. It might just lead us where we want to go.' He glanced back at Dardon. 'Providing Dardon can't point the way.'

'I'm working on it,' Dardon muttered. 'But I'm no expert. I think we may have to call in Pauley to do his wizardry.'

'Then we'll do it,' Garrett said. 'But first I want to hear that call. I saw a Holiday Inn about a mile off the freeway…'

'HERE'S THE DISC.' DARDON handed Garrett the black case at the door of his room at the Holiday Inn. 'Suppose I work on the lo¬cation a little more before I give it up to Pauley.'

'No, get him now.' Garrett unlocked the door and let Emily precede him into the room. 'Tell him I want him here tomorrow morning.'

'It will cost you.'

'Everything does,' Garrett said. 'But it may cost me more to delay.'

'Whatever you say.' He turned and strolled down the hall toward his room. 'I'm glad to give it up to Pauley. Though you know he's go¬ing to be condescending as hell.'

'Who's Pauley?' Emily asked, as Garrett came in and shut the door.

'Mark Pauley. He's sort of a techno-wizard in computers and all things electronic. If anyone can pin down the location of Zelov's call, he'll be able to do it. He's the best hacker I've ever known.' He glanced around the room. 'Set up your computer and we'll play that CD. There's usually a coffeemaker in these rooms, and I could use some cof¬fee. Maybe it's on the bathroom vanity.' He went into the bathroom. 'Yeah, here it is.'

Emily heard the sound of running water as she opened the laptop and set it on the desk. 'It's up. Hurry, dammit.'

'We've got time.' He came out of the bathroom a few minutes later and handed her a cup of coffee. 'And the call was very short, Dardon said.'

'That doesn't mean we won't learn something from it.' She took the disc he handed her and slipped it into the computer. 'I want to know now.'

He sat down in the chair at the desk and leaned back. 'Then play it.'

She pressed the button.

A sound of dialing and Zelov's heavy breathing. Then the call was picked up on the other end.

Russian. She realized they were both speaking in Russian. Disap¬pointment surged through her. 'Dammit.'

'You don't speak Russian?'

'No. You do, don't you?'

He nodded. 'Pretty well.'

He speaks nine languages, Irana had told her.

She opened the desk drawer and pulled out stationery and a pen. She set it in front of him and stopped the disc. 'Write it down. I want every word, every intonation, every pause.'

He smiled. 'I'll try to oblige.'

'Don't try. Do it.' She started the disc again.

His smile disappeared, and he frowned with concentration, his pen flying over the paper.

She sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. She was once again aware of the intensity, the intelligence in that face. She slowly sipped her coffee and waited for him to finish.

The conversation took only a few minutes. Garrett pushed the sheet of paper away from him and looked at her. 'Done. The man Zelov called was definitely not Staunton. You agree?'

Emily nodded. The voice on the tape was smoother, deeper. 'It never occurred to me that Nicholas Zelov would speak Russian,' she said ruefully. 'He seemed so dyed-in-the-wool American.'

'I imagine the first Zelov clung very closely to his Russian roots. It seems to have carried down through his progeny.' He stood up. 'Sit here at the desk. The light is better, and my handwriting isn't wonderful.' He smiled slightly. 'Though I did try to obey instructions and convey into¬nations and pauses.'

She sat down in the chair and picked up the sheet of paper. Garrett's handwriting was bold, dominant, and incisive. Like his character, she thought absently, but there were many more shadings to his personality. 'You're right, your handwriting isn't wonderful, but it's clear. That's all that's important.'

'I'm glad you can make it work.' He lay back on the bed and propped himself up against the headboard. He lifted his cup to his lips. 'Read. We'll talk later.'

She was already reading.

'It's Zelov. Dammit, you promised me you'dprotect me. You said no one would know.'

'I have no idea what you're talking about, Zelov. Are you drunk again?'

'I'm not drunk. Well, maybe I've had a little, but that doesn't change anything. I have a right to do whatever I want. You can't tell me what to do.'

'I can tell you whatever I wish, Zelov. And you will listen re¬spectfully, then obey.'

'Bullshit. You told me no one would know. You lied.'

'Stop sputtering and tell me clearly and slowly what you mean.'

'She asked about the book. She asked about Mikhail Zelov. She asked about my trip to Moscow.' 'Who asked you?' 'That U.N. bitch.' Pause. 'Emily Hudson?'

'Yeah. It was her, but her hair was different…'

'Did she mention the amulets? What did you tell her, Zelov?'

'Nothing. I didn't tell her anything. I told her to go chase herself.

She didn't say a word about the amulets. But you've got to protect me. You've got to get her off me.'

'How long ago did she leave?'

'Five minutes maybe.'

'You fool. You incredible fool to take a chance like this. I'm hanging up.'

'You can't do that. Talk to me. Tell me how you're going to-'

'I'm hanging up. Listen carefully. My promise will not be bro¬ken. But if you talk to Emily Hudson or anyone else again, you will be punished. Do you understand?'

'I'm not stupid. Of course, I understand. You can't threaten me. You can't do- '

The connection was broken.

Emily finished reading the last words, then went back and started to read the conversation again. Then she played the disc trying to memorize the sound, the intonations, of the man Zelov had called. She wanted to remember that voice if she heard it again. But they had no name. Why hadn't Zelov mentioned his name just one time, she wondered in frustration.

'Finished?' Garrett asked.

She nodded and leaned back in the chair. 'But we haven't got a name, dammit.'

'We'll get it.' He finished his coffee and set the cup on the night¬stand. 'But not much more.'