White spoke up. “Ifall he did was take pictures, how did he end up in prison?”
“Patience, governmentdude, I’m getting to that part. So, Viktor would develop thepictures, make replicas of the pieces, and then wait for the nextget-together of commie party yuckity-yucks. Then, he would break intothe houses, swap out the real jewelry for the fakes he made, andvanish into the night. What do you think about that?”
“It’s good stuff,”White said. “But what does any of it have to do with Maxim’smurder?”
“I’m getting tothat part. Keep your pants on . . . unless you’re more comfortablewith them off . . . whatever. Here’s the part where Mr.Good-Commie-Two-Shoes comes in. Maxim, as it turns out, wasn’t assqueaky clean as everyone thought. Even though he was alreadymarried, he had a thing for the ladies . . . and I mean allthe ladies. I’m talking eighteen to eighty, blind, crippled, orcrazy. He loved ’em all. Now, don’t forget Maxim and Viktor arepractically body doubles for each other, but one of them is a jewelthief, and the other is a horndog, bedding everyone from Cindy LouWhovna to Katherine the Great and everyone in between.”
“Wait, wait, wait!”Gwynn yelled out. “I’m out of paper. Hang on just a second.”She ran from the table and returned seconds later with two morewriting pads. “Okay, keep going.”
Skipper said, “Takeit easy, chica. I’ll send you a transcript when we’re done.”
“Yeah, but yourtranscript won’t have my personal notes.”
“Sure it will,”Skipper said. “Didn’t Anya tell you I’m not only the world’sbest analyst, but that I’m also a mind reader? By the way, I’mpicking up some heavy lovey-dovey vibes from you about some girlnamed Sascha. What’s that about?”
“Sascha’s not agirl, he’s a guy.”
Skipper laughed. “Okay,that’s cool. Like a boy named Sue or whatever.”
Gwynn turned to Anyaand mouthed, “How does she know?”
Anya smiled andshrugged as Skipper reclaimed the floor.
“Now that we’redone with the background, and whatever Gwynn’s thing for Sascha is,it’s time for the good part. At some point, our little Russkislut-boy has a fling with a czarina or whatever. She was the wife ofthis KGB colonel who was on his way to a general’s star in theKremlin. So, little-miss-wife-of-colonel-come-general turns uppregnant, which is fine, except for one small detail. Herrock-star-one-star husband was aboard a ship in the Baltic Sea whensaid ship took a dive to the bottom. Before he was rescued, he spentenough time in the cold water to render his little trouser soldierunfit for duty, so needless to say, our friend, the colonel, had somequestions about his lovely bride’s swelling belly.”
Gwynn froze with herpen hovering above her pad. “Did she just say ‘trouser soldier’?”
Anya chuckled. “Yes,she did, and she is just getting warmed up.”
Skipper said, “I’mon a roll here, so try not to interrupt. When Colonel Boris, orwhatever his name is, figured out what was going on, he went on amanhunt. Now, the details are a little shaky from here, but it wentsomething like this. He discovered Viktor trying to fence a necklacethat had been in the colonel’s family since Ivan the Terrible wasin charge. Needless to say, the necklace was easily recognizable. Thegood colonel pulled his Makarov—that’s a Russian pistol for theslow learners in the back.”
“Wait a minute,”White said. “We’re talking about Maxim’s murder here, but itwas Viktor who was trying to sell the necklace.”
Skipper sighed. “Itold you not to interrupt. I’m going to land the plane. Just let mefly the approach first.”
White threw up bothhands in silent surrender, and Skipper continued rolling.
“Viktor, being a catburglar, was fast. He apparently hit the back door like a jaguar. Isa jaguar the fastest cat? It doesn’t matter. Suffice it to say, hewas fast. The pissed-off colonel gave chase but couldn’t quite keepup. Viktor made several ducks, dives, and dodges on his exfil route,but what the colonel didn’t know was that Maxim had driven hisbrother, Viktor, to the shop, and he was waiting in the car aroundthe corner, smoking a cigarette and singing whatever Russian horndogssing. When the colonel came around the corner and saw Maxim behindthe wheel of the car—remember, Maxim and Viktor might as well betwins from fifty feet away—Colonel Frozen-Pole emptied his Makarovinto the wrong Volkov brother. Or maybe it was the right brother. Iguess it depends on which one he wanted to kill—the jewel thief orthe one responsible for the czarina’s baby bump.”
White scratched hischin and ran a hand through his hair. “How did you get all of thisinformation in twenty-four hours?”
“It didn’t taketwenty-four hours. I only started on it just after lunch today, butI’m still not finished. When the colonel figured out which brotherhe’d killed, he had the other one, Viktor, sent to the Gulag. Okay,it wasn’t really the Gulag, but it was prison. I just like the wordGulag and try to use it whenever possible. Somehow, Viktor ended upgetting out of prison and finding his way to America.”
“Wait a minute,though,” Gwynn said. “What about baby Anya, the ballerina?”
“Oh, yeah, I almostforgot that part. It turns out Maxim wasn’t only the baby daddy tothe colonel’s wife, but his own wife, Irina, was pregnant, as well.So, as Paul Harvey would say, now you know the rest of the story.Gotta run. Bye.”
The three were left,jaws agape, staring at a dead phone.
White said, “How didshe . . . ?”
Anya pocketed thesilent phone. “It is what she does. I told you she would help us.”
25
MAGICHESKAYASHKOLA
(MAGIC SCHOOL)
Like a good employee,Anya strolled into the diamond mine just before 9:00 a.m. to findViktor Volkov’s office door standing open. He rose when he saw hermake her entrance and motioned for her to come into his innersanctum.
“Good morning,Viktor. You are in good mood today.”
“Come in, my angel.Have you had your tea?”
“Yes, but I wouldlike another.”
He poured them steamingmugs from the bar behind his desk and slid one across to his angel.
He held the mug to hislips
