Sibley's Secret

by Frank Perry

herself. She was the Chief, and it would be silly to need to prove anything, but that’s the way it felt. She’d never taken time off before her father died; now, she’d taken almost two weeks in total.

  One of the other officers came in and she yelled, “Hello,” and heard Wilson’s familiar walk coming to her office.

  “Hi, Chief, how was the time off?” Wilson was a good man, solid, with no hidden agenda. He just wanted to live peacefully in Tranquility after his military retirement. If anything serious happened, Kiki had no doubt that Wilson could handle it; he was that kind of guy, someone you knew you could count on, but not after your job.

  “It was good, Wilson. We got dad’s estate moving so we can sell it and I got the surprise of my life while there.” She told him about meeting Sibley and Jason and enough of the background not to sound completely weird. She didn’t tell him about Jim Olander; that was her special secret, one that might even convince her to leave Tranquility, at least after Chad graduated. She needed to retain “resident” status for his tuition.

  Wilson backed out of her office with a little wave, his way of signaling that he was going to his desk. He wasn’t much for small talk. A few minutes later, Sherry came in, and it was a different dynamic; she couldn’t stop talking and loved to pry. Kiki tried her best to remain aloof.

  In Jackson, Jim missed Kiki in a way that he couldn’t explain. He wasn’t totally confident in his feelings; he’d made a mistake in the past, and so had Kiki. Whatever his feelings, he wanted her back. He could still smell her scent on the pillow and didn’t want to change it. He felt an immense void without being able to stroke her hair and the supple feeling of her skin next to his. His house felt empty without her.

  He was going to call her when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the 321 area code and answered, “Olander.”

  A man responded, “Hello, is this Detective Olander?”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Detective, my name is Peter Mikhailovich. I know that doesn’t mean anything to you, but a consultant of mine told me about you, he was the young man shot at a granary earlier this week. Do you know who I mean?”

  “I think you’re talking about Dr. Evanoff, is that right?”

  “Yes, tragic about the young woman. They were working together in Russia and then ended up at the same place in Michigan.”

  Jim was curious; Evan had never given him the whole story. “Maybe you can fill in some information for me, Mr. Mikhailovich? I talked to Dr. Evanoff twice and he would not disclose his principal or the research he was engaged in.”

  “How is the young man doing?” Peter was evading.

  “I’m afraid he died today, shortly after my last visit. There was some kind of latent reaction to the drug that a killer gave him through his IV. The docs tried to save him, but he was pretty weak from being shot.”

  “Oh dear! I never met Evan, but he seemed very bright on the phone, and I was paying him well to find something for me. I’m so sad to hear about him. We thought he would be safe back in the States.”

  “Sir, it would help me a great deal if you could tell me what it is that you wanted him to find?” He wasn’t sure the man speaking wasn’t the killer or his boss, Russian mafia.

  There was a pause from the man before he spoke, “Do you recognize the name Gregori Jelavich?”

  “I’ve become acquainted with the name.”

  “Let me assure you, he is a very bad man. He had a young assistant, a researcher, Miss Karina Chuikov.”

  “Yeah, I saw her body.”

  “Yes, well, the poor dear took the assignment from Jelavich before she knew what kind of man he was. He’s not the kind of man who lets go once you’re on the line. I located Dr. Evanoff through an associate who saw them working together. When I got to know him and hired him, he began experiencing a great deal of fear for his own life; fear brought on by threats made by Jelavich to Ms. Chuikov. I did my best to protect the man, even helping him escape to America.”

  Jim was getting impatient getting led around without answers. “Look Mr. Mikhailovich, I appreciate the background, but most of this I already figured out. What I don’t know is why Evanoff was working for you.”

  Peter was also feeling at loose ends. He could feel Jelavich closing in. He had no idea what Karina told the mobster; it was probably more than Evan had known, and now he would never be able to tell him. If Mikhailovich and his associates were going to find the gold before Jelavich, assuming it actually existed at all, he had to take a chance. “Do you know much about your community, Detective?”

  “I’ve lived here all my life and been a lawman for twenty years. I probably know as much as anyone could.”

  “Okay, you sound like an honest man, so I’m going to level with you. Miss Chuikov and Dr. Evanoff are researchers who concluded that something important in Russian history had been concealed in a shipment to America as part of the Army’s departure from Siberia, shortly after the end of World War One.”

  Peter went on to explain the existence of the White Russian aristocracy and his line to the top position in the monarchy if it were to be reestablished, “I know this all sounds weird coming from a fellow in construction in Florida, but I assure you it’s true. There are thousands of royals from the Tsar’s period spread all over the world. Our grandparents and great grandparents departed when the Tsar abdicated.”

  Jim was intrigued, but still frustrated. “I’ve heard of White Russian nobles before, but I thought they were just braggarts.”

  “Oh, there are plenty of those, but my circle of friends is the real deal. We’re located around the world, but stay in close contact. I was born in the U.S., am a U.S. citizen, yet heir to the throne of Russia. Pretty bizarre, I know.”

  “So, what can you tell me about the two researchers in Jackson County? If there’s something you want, and bad guys are on the trail, maybe I can help?”

  “Okay, I’m gonna level with you, but I would ask you to keep it confidential, just between us. Also, let me say that we are prepared to spend whatever it takes to get what we want.”

  Jim snickered, “If I can help, I don’t cost you anything.”

  “Yes, I understand that, but if you could use extra manpower or logistics or anything, we can probably provide it. Please take the threat of Gregori Jelavich seriously; he’s a very bad man and has a lot of money invested in this.”

  “Okay, what are you looking for?”

  “Well, from what Dr. Evanoff told me, he had a theory that Russian property might have been stolen from a trainload of supplies in Siberia at the end of the Bolshevik revolution, then shipped back to the States as unused or surplus war materials. A criminal officer brought back contraband, disguised as war goods, including the Russian property. Dr. Evanoff’s research pointed to a unit of National Guard that returned to Michigan, probably to your county.”

  Jim was getting an uneasy feeling, “Who was the criminal officer?”

  “His name was Hicks.”

  It was clear now. “What was Hicks supposed to have stolen?”

  “I can’t reveal that, but it was quite valuable to the White Russian cause.”

  “Then why is Jelavich interested? Is he a history buff?”

  “Truly, Detective, I can’t say more, but please remember that we have whatever money is needed to secure our property.”

  “Give me your number, I’ll call you back.”

  Jim hung up and then called Kiki, “Hi babe!”

  “Hi, yourself. Miss me?”

  “I miss everything about you.”

  “Wanna talk dirty?” She was smiling on her end.

  Jim could hardly remain composed, “Ah, maybe later.”

  She sat on her sofa, “Shucks, you’re no fun.”

  He lost it. “What are you wearing?”

  “Nothing, nothing at all.” She lied. She’d only removed her duty belt.

  He couldn’t speak, so she continued, “So, why did you ca
ll, just to get aroused?”

  “Ah, no. I, ah, I, are you fucking with me?”

  “Yep, kinda fun, huh?”

  “Kiki, you sure know how to torture a guy who’s been abstaining for years.”

  “I like it when you’re too horny to talk.”

  “Seriously, I called with a serious ... something.”

  She smiled to herself, picturing him twisted up in a chair feeling lonely. “Okay, Romeo, what’s up?”

  He had to think, “Oh, yeah. A guy called tonight; some kind of White Russian Prince. He’s a builder in Florida.”

  “How much have you had to drink?”

  “No, seriously, give me a break will ya? I’m dealing with a serious woody here and I’m all alone.”

  “Well, deal with it, I can’t see you, you know.”

  “Okay, wise-ass ... a very nice ass I might add. This guy called. He’s really a prince if you follow the lineage from when the Tsar left Russia, or when he was murdered, as I remember. Turns out that all the nobles keep track of each other, planning to take over again when the government fails. So far, the commies are gone, the Soviet Republic collapsed, and the new guys haven’t done well. Free capitalist Russia isn’t working too well, and the old guard is standing by. He says popular support for a constitutional monarchy, like England, is growing.”

  “So, what’s that got to do with me, with us?”

  “Okay, you know the homicide I’ve been working on?”

  “Yes, a young couple gunned down at the granary.”

  “Right, well it’s all about your green boxes.”

  “What!”

  “Yep, the two of them