“What happened?” asked Nancy.
“Just before Victor’s defection, Irina had auditioned for the Bolshoi. There are very very few dancers who even get an audition,” Vera added, pride creeping into her voice. “And they wanted Irina. She was accepted. But first she had to denounce her husband and divorce him.”
“She did that?” Nancy asked, thinking of the photograph showing the laughter Victor and Irina shared.
“Yes. She suffered for what he had done,” said Vera, with pain in her voice.
“Did Victor keep in touch?” Nancy asked.
“He tried,” Vera said. “He wrote secret letters, under a false name, and sent them to friends who passed them on. Few letters came through in those years. But the ones she received were pleas for her forgiveness. Irina did not write back. It was too dangerous.
“Five years later, the Bolshoi visited America. Irina was the prima ballerina. When she arrived in New York, Victor was waiting at the airport with a limousine. He told those with the Bolshoi that he would be Irina’s chauffeur as they toured the eastern cities. He led them to believe the United States was providing the service.”
“That took courage,” said Nancy, trying to get a feel for the kind of person Victor Bykov was. “Where’d he get the car?”
“It was his. When Victor first arrived in New York, a widow befriended him. She had a chauffeur business left to her by her husband. Her son was only eight, too young to run the business. So she hired Victor. Three years later, when the woman was dying, she asked Victor to raise her son as his own. He promised to do so. In return, she left the business to Victor.”
“Did Irina recognize Victor?” Bess asked, and Nancy could see that she was hanging on to every word.
“Of course! Irina loved his boldness. In just a few days, he won her heart all over again.
“When the company moved on to more distant cities, Victor could not go,” Vera continued. “But in three months, the company returned to the East for a final engagement in New York.”
Her eyes darkened with pain. “If the troupe had flown back to Russia without coming east again, it would have spared Irina much shame. For beneath all of his success, Victor was still the stupid oaf he had been at eighteen.”
Nancy wondered if that was a fair judgment of Natalia’s father. “Perhaps he had changed.”
“He wanted Irina to think so,” said Vera bitterly. “When she told him she was pregnant, he pretended he was pleased. He urged her to defect. He told her they would be the happy American family.”
Vera’s mouth twisted. “The boy Victor called his son was twelve at the time. He was not pleased to hear of the coming baby, nor did he like Irina. But Victor convinced Irina it would all work out, and with a baby coming, Irina agreed. Somehow the Russian embassy learned of her intentions. The very next day, the KGB showed up at the rehearsal. They took Irina away and whisked her back to Russia—where she was imprisoned.”
The tragic injustice of it twisted at Nancy’s heart. “Someone must have turned her in. How many people knew her plans?”
“Only two. Victor and the boy. Irina thought the boy alerted the embassy.”
“You visited her in prison?” asked Nancy.
“I was allowed to see her a few times. She longed for word from Victor. Thinking it might comfort her, I wrote to him four times. But no word came. He had deserted her again.”
Vera added sugar to the cup of tea Bess had quietly made. But there was no way to sweeten the bitterness of her memories.
“Irina was released just before giving birth to Natalia. She had not had proper care. After the baby was born, she got pneumonia. She knew she was dying. She knew Piotr and I were to go to America with the circus. It was her wish that we take Natalia with us and see her safely into Victor’s hands,” said Vera in a tight, dry voice.
“You never adopted her, did you?” asked Nancy softly.
“I wanted to, but it was not what Irina wanted,” said Vera, her voice trembling. “And Piotr felt a dying wish should be honored.”
“Didn’t the government object to your taking the child out of the country?” asked Nancy.
“They didn’t know,” said Vera. “When Irina died, we paid the doctor to say that she had died before giving birth. We hid Natalia for three months before leaving for America. We got her out with the circus, but we didn’t know if we would be turned back for having a child without proper papers.”
“How brave,” Nancy said softly. She felt humbled by the strength and courage of such people. “What happened next?”
“People helped us, people who cared about freedom. They made it all right. They asked what name did we want on the papers for the baby. Piotr said we should put Bykov. That was how Irina would have wanted it.”
Nancy watched the sadness on her face as she stared into her teacup. “I remember that afternoon matinee in New York. Piotr was a small man, and so agile! When they performed the human pyramid, he was the one who vaulted to the top.
“After the matinee, we quarreled bitterly, Piotr and I. He was going to call Victor and turn Natalia over to that stupid oaf,” she said harshly.
“A man who would desert his wife twice had no business with a helpless baby, I told him. Only when I threatened to run away with the child did Piotr compromise. He said he would test Victor. He sent Victor one of Irina’s ballet slippers by courier and pinned a circus ticket to it. If Victor did not come to the performance, we would never try again to reach him. But if he came—” Vera paused and dabbed tears from her eyes. Tenderly she said, “Piotr wanted to give Victor a chance. I should not have vexed him—it ruined his concentration. I think he was scanning the crowd to see if Victor had come.”
“Had he?” Nancy asked, spellbound.
“I never found out.” Tears ran down Vera’s face. “Piotr missed his last trick. He died instantly of a broken neck.” She paused, her voice breaking. “I was out of my mind with grief. Natalia was all I had left. I took her and ran.”
Gently Nancy pressed a tissue into Vera’s hand.
“Even after I found a job with Marshall and he helped me gain asylum, I was fearful that Victor might track me down. So I changed my name.”
Hating to press her, yet needing the answer, Nancy said quietly, “Vera, is there anyone who has anything to gain by keeping Natalia from hearing the things you’ve just told us?”
Slowly Vera’s red-rimmed eyes met Nancy’s. “I am the only one. If she hears these things I’ve kept from her . . .”
“Trust her love,” Nancy said, though the words seemed inadequate. Patting Vera’s hand, she added, “I’ve got just a few more questions. Do you have any idea where Victor Bykov is now?”
Vera shook her head.
Nancy paused, thinking. Within the whole story, one slim possibility existed. The boy Victor had raised. The one who Irina thought had betrayed her. “Do you know the name of the boy Victor raised?” she asked.
Vera hesitated. Nancy reminded her, “As soon as she’s well, Natalia will be completely vulnerable to whoever it is who wants her dead. Please, if you know the boy’s name, tell me!”
“Dickie,” Vera said finally. “Dickie Smith.”
Nancy’s pulse raced. Dickie! A nickname for Richard. Was it too big a leap?
Or could Bykov’s adopted son be Richard Smith?
Chapter
Sixteen
RICHARD SMITH is a pretty common name,” said George, guessing Nancy’s thought.
“It could be a coincidence,” Nancy agreed. “But I’m betting it’s not.”
“What? What are you talking about?” asked Vera, looking alarmed.
Nancy turned back to her. “Do you know the man from Sunshine Enterprises? He’s been here checking on the circus trucks. He was at the party last night,” Nancy added, seeing Vera’s puzzled frown. “Gray eyes, dark hair.”
“Great tan,” added Bess. “He was wearing a pink shirt.”
“Oh, him. I remember seeing him, but no, I don�
��t know him,” said Vera.
“His name is Richard Smith,” said Nancy. Realizing Vera might not be aware of it, she added, “Dickie is a nickname for Richard. And he would be the right age. I thought he was in his late twenties, but he could be thirty or thirty-one.”
Vera looked so alarmed that Nancy hastened to calm her. “There might not be any connection. But if there is, I promise you, we’ll find out.”
“Go, then. Do what you need to do. Just don’t let any harm come to Natalia!” Vera cried.
The girls left Vera’s trailer and found a mechanic beneath one of the circus trucks. Nancy asked if Richard was around. The man said he was in Saint Petersburg at the company office and gave her directions.
As she and her friends sped toward Saint Petersburg, about fifty miles away, Nancy said, “I got the impression Richard worked in the business with his father.”
“This is going to be a snap,” Bess said. “We’ll just walk in and ask to see Victor Bykov.”
“We could. But if Richard is behind these attacks, we don’t want to tip him off. We’ve got to get solid evidence against him,” Nancy said. “First I’ll see if the stem on his watch is missing. If it is, then we can be reasonably sure we’ve got our man. Then we’ll lay a trap.”
“And if it isn’t?” asked George, who was riding in the front seat beside Nancy.
“I’ll find out if he’s Bykov’s son. That shouldn’t be hard—just look for a doorplate or letterhead with Victor’s name on it. As for Richard, I’ll tell him we’re checking out Keiser’s alibi and we need directions to World of Sound. If he’s the wrong man, no harm done. But if he’s the culprit, he’ll think his attempts to set up Keiser are working, and maybe he’ll get careless.”
“But if it is Richard, how does he know who Natalia is? And why does he want to kill her?” asked Bess from the back.
“I don’t know how or even if he knows. As for why, the only thing I see is that he had such strong feelings against Irina, he probably turned her in and foiled her plans to defect,” said Nancy. Hands tensing on the wheel, she added, “There are a lot of unanswered questions.”
The city limits gave way to sandy clay lowlands where gulls soared, searching for a meal.
“It’s odd that Richard came to the circus parties. The account is already his, so it wasn’t business,” Nancy mused as she drove. “And he clearly wasn’t close friends with any of the circus people. He always seemed a little out of place—unless I’m just trying to force pieces that really don’t fit.”
As they crossed a bridge, all three girls looked down. Below, sailboats and cabin cruisers dotted the rippling waters. On the shore they saw several beautiful, snowy white egrets.
About an hour later, Nancy nosed the car onto the exit ramp for Saint Petersburg. Soon they were in the city, where the streets were clogged with tourists driving campers and pulling boats. Nancy was thankful for George’s help as she watched for street signs, but it was Bess who spotted Sunshine Enterprises’ headquarters. Nancy drove through the gates. There was a large lot to one side of the building. She parked, and Bess started to climb out.
“Wait a second.” Nancy put a hand on her friend’s arm. “You two better stay here. If Richard is our man and things get nasty, I’m going to need someone to get help.”
“How are we going to know if you need help?” Bess asked.
Nancy smiled, a little nervous. “If I don’t show up in ten minutes, get help.”
The two girls agreed and got back into the car. Nancy continued across the lot and into the air-conditioned building.
There was a receptionist at the front desk. Nancy scanned the reception area. Just beyond the reception room she could see a corridor that split in two directions.
“May I help you?” the receptionist asked.
Nancy gave her name. “Is Richard Smith in?”
The woman picked up the phone. “Richard? There’s a Miss Drew here to see you. Shall I send her in?”
Nancy waited as the woman listened, nodded, then hung up the phone. “He’ll be right out.”
So he wasn’t going to invite her into his office, thought Nancy. Hiding her disappointment, she smiled and said, “Thanks.”
As the young woman returned to her typing, Nancy edged closer to the desk. But the letterhead stationery in the typewriter had only a company logo, not the names of the officers. Hearing footsteps, Nancy stepped back just as Richard appeared in the corridor.
A smile lit his tanned face. “What a nice surprise! What brings you to Saint Petersburg?”
“Sleuthing,” Nancy said, adding in a conspiratorial whisper, “Marshall Keiser says he missed the party because he was shopping for sound equipment at World of Sound.”
“Oh, I see,” Richard said. “And was he?”
“I don’t know yet,” Nancy replied, smiling. “I can’t find the place. I thought maybe you’d give me directions.”
Richard looked puzzled. “You found me, but you couldn’t find World of Sound? The road into town goes right past it.”
Big mistake! Nancy’s mind raced for an alternate explanation. Smiling, she said, “I also found you because I was looking for you. I have something for you.” She opened her shoulder bag and looked for her coin purse.
Richard smiled curiously as she snapped open the pocket-size purse. “Big gifts come in small packages, they say,” he joked.
Nancy unwrapped the watch stem, then held it out to him. Watching him closely, she said, “It’s not a gift, actually. It’s a watch stem. Are you missing yours?”
“I don’t think so,” said Richard. His eyes moved to his watch, and he slid his finger beneath the expandable band. He stretched it out, turning the stem so Nancy could see it. “See? My watch doesn’t have a stem.”
The watchband settled against Richard’s arm. A white line of skin as thin as a chalk mark outlined the band. That’s not the same watch Richard was wearing yesterday! Nancy realized. The tan lines were wrong!
Goose bumps rose on her arm, but she flashed a smile, saying, “I thought maybe it caught in my sweater while we were dancing.”
His eyes pierced hers. “You danced with quite a few guys. Maybe it belongs to one of them.”
A shiver ran up Nancy’s spine. Did he know what she was up to? It was impossible to tell.
The phone rang. The receptionist said, “Yes, one moment, please.” She covered the mouthpiece and said to Richard, “It’s Vic on the car phone. Do you want to take it here or in your office?”
Nancy kept her face expressionless, but her pulse was racing as fast as her mind. Vic! The final piece of evidence she needed!
“I don’t have the figures in front of me,” she heard Richard say. “Just a second while I get back to my office.” To Nancy he said, “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me.”
“Of course,” she murmured absently.
“By the way,” he added, turning back, “if you’d like to do some shelling while you’re in Florida, my invitation still stands.”
Shelling? With this would-be killer?
Nancy forced a big smile. “That sounds like fun. How about tomorrow?”
Chapter
Seventeen
I’VE ALWAYS HAD good luck out on Siesta Key,” Richard said. “How about if we meet on the same stretch of beach where the party was? There’ll be a low tide about five in the morning. As I told you, that’s the best time to get shells.”
“Great,” Nancy said enthusiastically.
“Will Bess and George be coming, too?”
Nancy’s laugh was convincing even to her own ears. “There’s no way they’re going to get up before dawn!”
Richard lifted his hand in a wave. “All right. Just the two of us. I’ll see you then.”
Nancy returned his wave as she turned to go, but on the inside, she was boiling. He had destroyed Irina’s life. He wasn’t going to get away with destroying Natalia, too!
Nancy hurried out to the car and climbed in. “Well?” aske
d George.
“He’s Victor’s son, all right! He got a phone call while I was in there, and the receptionist referred to the caller as Vic.”
Bess gasped. “Then you’ve found Natalia’s father!”
Grimly Nancy said, “I’ve also found Natalia’s would-be killer.”
“So Richard was the attacker?” George asked.
“Can you prove it?” Bess asked, her eyes wide.
“I think so. He wasn’t wearing the same watch he had on last night,” Nancy explained. “The band wasn’t as wide. It didn’t quite meet the tan line on his wrist.” Nancy raised a hand to stop Bess from interrupting. “Now, he could have just decided to wear a different watch today. But if that’s the case, then why would he bother to deny that the stem I found could be his? I’ll tell you why.” Nancy answered her own question. “He knew he lost the stem during the struggle with me. He must have felt it catch on my sweater or noticed it afterward. He thought if he claimed it, it would give him away.”
George asked, “But why would he want Natalia dead?”
Frowning, Nancy put the key in the ignition. “I don’t know that yet. That’s what’s frustrating. But I’ve got a shelling date with him at daybreak tomorrow. I’ll find out then.”
“A shelling date?” Bess shrieked. “You can’t go off with him alone!”
“I don’t like it either, Nan,” said George. “It’s too dangerous.”
“Not if I get lots of backup.”
“Like who?” asked Bess.
“Marshall Keiser, for starters. Eduardo and Joseph. Hayden. And some clowns who were pretty heartsick over their joke turning sour,” Nancy said. She snapped on her seat belt and eased out of the lot.
“They’d be useful in a fight,” George agreed.
Nancy drove down the block and stopped near a small park where palm trees shaded dazzling orange and red hyacinths. An elderly couple in panama hats strolled past hand in hand. It gave her an idea.
“At five o’clock tomorrow morning, it will be low tide, and Richard’s going to meet me on Siesta Key, the same place we had the party,” Nancy began. “I’ll get him to walk down where the undergrowth has been left untrimmed. That’ll provide good cover for the guys to hide. I’m going to get him to talk if I can. Once he has, I’ll signal the guys to move in.”
Dangerous Relations Page 9
