The waiter nodded approvingly and departed.
Federov turned to her and smiled. Now Alex got a good look, up close and personal, and he was indeed thinner than she remembered. She couldn’t yet tell whether it was a sign of good health, vigor, and exercise or something more ominous. She dug through the repository of facts on Federov that she kept in her head and tried to recall his age. Given a moment’s thought, she reckoned he was about forty-eight or forty-nine. Not a bad age for a man, depending.
There was an awkward moment of silence between them. “So,” she said, quickly moving to fill it, “I thought I’d start with a basic question. Are you here in the United States legally?”
He laughed.
“Of course, I am,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to break any laws now that I have a clean slate.”
“The tax thing,” she said. “That got cleared up, I hear. Completely?”
Federov nodded. “Cleared up perfectly,” he said.
“Try to keep current in the future,” she said.
He made a dismissive gesture. “The future. What’s that?” he said. “I’m retired, enjoying the time I have left and the money I’ve stashed. I don’t make money anymore. I try only to keep track of what few millions I have. And you know I’m here legally. You’re the government and have all the computers and the records. You know I came in on a visa, and you even know where I’m staying without me telling you.”
“Touche,” she said.
“I hoped you’d get in contact but didn’t know if you would.”
“Now you know,” she said.
“Now I know, but I suspect this is business more than pleasure. Thank you, by the way.”
“For what?”
“There doesn’t seem to be surveillance on me. I appreciate that.”
“There isn’t, and it wasn’t my decision,” she said. “I’m not that powerful.”
“You are
She tried to be angry but couldn’t help laughing. “I wouldn’t know about that,” she said.
“Opium is not good stuff, huh?” he said. “It eats the brain and destroys it. I’ve tried it but don’t recommend.”
“What
“Vodka,” he said. And as if on cue the waiter arrived with two drinks, served in the bar’s signature glasses, which were sculpted in the shape of a beautiful woman. The waiter set the single before Alex and the double before Federov. Federov produced a fifty-dollar bill as quickly as some men can snap their fingers. He handed it to the waiter and declined change.
The waiter bowed most appreciatively.
Federov lifted his glass to Alex and switched into Russian. “
“And to yours, Yuri,” she said, lifting her glass, clicking it to his, and reciprocating. “Za tvajo zdarovye.”
She sipped. Federov knocked back half of his drink in one long draw. Then he set down his glass, and his gaze landed hard on her. He grinned.
“So,” he said, launching one of the lightning non sequiturs that she had come to expect from him. “Why don’t you marry me?”
She laughed and shook her head. “Are you still singing that note?” she asked.
“Why shouldn’t I?” he said. “I’ve met the perfect woman. So I pursue her as I can. What can I do for you while I’m in New York? May I buy you a yacht or just take you away with me on one for six months?”
His flirtation was so outrageous that she refused to even take it seriously. “Don’t you ever give up?”
“Obviously, no. Why should I?”
“My answer will never change.”
“Never say never,” he said. “Life changes.”
“Do you know the old phrase about a snowball’s chance in hell?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered thoughtfully, “and since you like to speak of philosophy and sophisticated notions, it has occurred to me that a snowball might have some small chance in hell.”
“The snowball’s got a hundred times better chance than you do of marrying me,” she said.
“Thank you! Very encouraging.”
“Encouraging?”
“Yes. This is the first time that you’ve acknowledged that I might have some small chance. I’m heartened.”
With an overly dramatic gesture, he took her hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. These were the same hands that had pulled triggers on unarmed men and beaten several other men and women to within a few inches of their lives. Sometimes she wondered how she had the gumption to play along.
Federov finished his drink.
“A lot of women would marry me in a heartbeat,” he said.
“I’m not a lot of women,” Alex answered.
“No, but you’re the woman who charms me and excites me. Why don’t you think about it?”
“Sure. And in the meantime, why don’t we change the subject?”
“To what?”
“Why are you in New York?” she asked.
“Is that what you’re here to discover?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. It is. My superiors at the US Department of Treasury sent me here to find out.”
“Ah.”
“So why don’t you tell me and then business will be out of the way.”
“I’m here to see some doctors,” Federov said. “Some specialists. I have a few health issues.”
“Nothing serious, I hope,” she said.
“American doctors are the best in the world, so I put my trust there.”
“I’m sure the medical establishment will be flattered to learn that. Is that the only reason you’re here?”
“If you’re asking me if I’m here to do business,” Federov said, “the answer is no. And why would I lie to you at this point? I’ve made my money; I don’t live in Ukraine or Russia anymore, so I tell you again: I take my winning chips, and I walk away from the table. Is that so hard to understand?”
“Maybe,” she said.
“And I have some friends here,” he announced easily. “So I socialize, have dinner and drinks, and mind my own business.”
“How long are you here for?” she asked.
“Don’t play coy with me, Alex LaDucova,” he laughed, finishing his drink and signaling to the waiter that he could use another. “I’m sure the record of my air travel has already been given to you. I’m here for ten days. And you knew that.”
She smiled. “I didn’t say I didn’t know that.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“To see if you’d tell me the truth.”
Federov raised his thick hand expressively. “Again, why would I not tell the truth at this point? You have all the power here, not me.”
The waiter presented Federov with his second drink, also a double. Alex was working slowly on the first half of hers.
“These ‘Peacock’ drinks,” Federov said. “They’re like a woman’s breast. One is not enough and three would be too much.”
“You said you had three yesterday.”
“Yes, I’m a pervert and it was too much. Tonight I am a gentleman because I am with a lady.”
“Tell me about your friend.”
“Ah, this friend I am seeing this evening,” Federov said next. “I’m glad you can come along. This is, ah, ‘good fortune’-you’re well educated; what is the ten-dollar word?”
“ ‘Fortuitous’?”
“Yes.”
“Is there an ulterior motive?”
“There might be,” he said.
“Why don’t you tell me then, or is it one of those things I have to figure out?”
“No,” he said. “His name is Paul Guarneri. He is a former business associate of mine in New York. We’re going to meet him at 7:00 p.m. in Little Italy.”
“What sort of business?” Alex asked, suddenly suspicious.
“You can ask him that yourself. I’ll tell you right now that Paul is from a ‘connected family’ in New York, but his businesses now are entirely legitimate. Like many people in his position, he has friends on both sides of the law.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
“I mentioned you to him. He’s looking forward to meeting you.”
“I don’t date wise guys, Yuri. You know that.”
“His interest is elsewhere,” he said. “Come along. You won’t regret, hey.”
She processed a lot of information quickly. Then she decided she would go along with it and file a complete report as soon as she returned to Washington. If Guarneri was connected, could an association of this sort hurt her? As an investigator, little tidbits that she picked up at such meetings could sometimes
