“I don’t know,” she said, stalling, then met his eyes. “Are you talking about me?”
“What? No,” he said, moving his hands over, catching a spill. “I didn’t mean-” He stopped. “Not you,” he said softly.
“Oh,” she said, just a sound, her face flushing, surprised again. She reached over, covering his hands. “Then what?”
Drawing him in, as if they were in bed, no secrets.
He looked at her for another second, then shook his head. “Nothing.”
“We could get up, right now, and walk out of here,” she said, still clutching his hand, her eyes fixed on him. “Just keep going. Before there’s anything more. We could do that.”
Through the doors, past one of Gulun’s men, on Altan’s leash, past the consulate. I’ve explained you. Altan waiting.
“I can’t,” he said, moving his hand away.
She kept hers on the table. “Why not? One last thing. What last thing?”
Well, what?
“We can find out who killed Frank.”
“Frank?” she said, thrown, pulling her hand back. “How? What do you mean? That’s what he’s coming here for?”
“No.”
“Are you doing this for me? Don’t. What does it matter who? Somebody, that’s all. It doesn’t change anything.”
“And next time it’ll be somebody else. Maybe me.”
Her eyes flashed, then looked away, a backing off. She drew on her cigarette to calm down.
“You think a Russian did it,” she said.
“Not this Russian. Smile again. He’s here.”
Over her shoulder, he could see Melnikov hesitate at the door, an entrance, then head straight for them. He did everything he was expcted to do-his surprise at seeing them, remembering Kay from Lily’s party, not wanting to intrude but persuaded to stay-but all of it done so clumsily that only his awkwardness made it seem authentic. Leon thought of Lily, gliding through her guests. Melnikov ordered vodka. Then, having exhausted his script, he sat waiting for Leon, a silence anyone in the room would notice.
“I’ll be right back,” Kay said. “Powder room. You’ll excuse me?”
Melnikov stood as she left, formal, then turned to Leon. “Where is he?”
“Safe. We can do it this afternoon.”
“How much do you want?” Blunt, not the playful ritual of the Bazaar.
“A trade. Your man in the consulate.”
“What man?”
“The one who killed Frank.”
“There is no such man.”
“Yes there is. Frank found him, that’s why he’s dead. So will we. Now that we know he’s there. But we’d like to speed things up. They’re both damaged goods now. An even trade.”
Melnikov thought about this. “How do I know you have him?”
“You’ll see him. I bring mine, you bring yours. Don’t come empty-handed. It’s a one-time offer. Pick the place.”
“And no money. Not even a tip for you.”
“Maybe next time.”
Melnikov stared at him, not sure how to take this.
“This isn’t hard. Take it or leave it.”
“And if I leave it?”
“Then we get both of them. Bad arithmetic for you.”
Melnikov shrugged. “But he’s already talked.”
“Only to me. Or he’d be in Washington now. He likes to wait for the right move-a chess player. But you know that. He said you were a little slow. So I guess his information’s still good.”
Melnikov sat back, annoyed.
“We’re wasting time. You’ll want guarantees. So do we. Can you bring him today?”
Melnikov hesitated, running the tip of his tongue between his lips, a wolf’s anticipation.
“I think you may be surprised,” he said finally.
Leon looked at him. Done. A life discarded in a second. Enver slipping in the bath.
“Only if you don’t show up.”
Melnikov snorted, then picked up his glass, draining it.
“You pick the place,” Leon said again.
“Well, goodness, here you are, big as life. I’ve been wondering. I thought maybe you’d gone
Leon stood, kissing the cheek she offered.
“I hope you’re coming to my party. I left about a hundred messages.”
Now turning to be introduced to Melnikov, Ed hanging back, as if the physical presence of a Russian was upsetting, the bogeyman real.
“Isn’t it a little early?” Barbara said, noticing the glass. Then Kay was coming back. “Kay,” she said, stretching the syllable. “I’ve been meaning to call. Those first few days, I know what it’s like.”
And suddenly it was the crowd outside Sirkeci, everyone in motion, trying to get out of each other’s way. Melnikov wary, suspecting tricks. But about what? Kay slightly panicky, someone who’d left her post for a second and now saw people rushing through the gate. Ed flustered for no reason at all, embarrassed maybe for Leon, his interrupted tryst. Only Barbara blithely enjoying herself, eyeing Kay’s dress, taking the confusion for some kind of evidence, a vindicated house detective.
“Ed, have you met Ivan Melnikov?”
Ed now reluctant, barely managing to get through a handshake, Melnikov just as publicly diffident so that for a second Leon wondered if in fact they already knew each other. Melnikov’s face a mask, giving nothing away. I think you may be surprised.
Leon looked at the other tables, people talking to each other, or pretending to. Try not to leave the hotel, Altan had said. But how could they stay now?
“Not even one drink?” Barbara was saying. “A
“I’m late already,” Kay said, fluttering.
“But can’t it wait? Ten minutes.”
Leon could see her thinking, a movement in the back of her eyes.
“Not the hairdresser,” she said.
“Women and their hair,” Melnikov said, indulgent, as if nothing more could be said.
“And us. I’m sorry,” Leon said.
“You’re going to the hairdresser too?” Barbara said, playing.
“The consulate.” He turned to Melnikov. “I promised we’d be there by-”
“To meet the new guy?” Ed said, interested now. “They say-but you must have seen him. First thing. I mean he’d want-” He stopped. “What’s he like?”
Melnikov looked at Leon. Presumably his new boss, someone Leon would know.
“He’s from Washington, Ed,” Leon said, trying to be light. “You know. I think they even get their suits from the same place.”
And then they were in the lobby, Ed and Barbara left in the bar but still looking at them, everything a question mark.
“Well, now I’d better have it done,” Kay said, brushing the back of her hair.
“Mrs. Bishop,” Melnikov said, taking her hand. “A pleasure.”
Not lingering, someone keeping an appointment. He moved back so Leon could say good-bye.
“Thanks for the tea,” Kay said, one eye to the bar.
Leon took her hand. “We’ll do it again,” he said, something for Melnikov and the bellhops. Then low, only to her,
