Deadlock

by Iris Johansen

  "Yes, you did." He opened the door for her. "Last night you forgot all about Staunton. I made you forget him. I can do it again, but it's not a good idea. You'd end up resenting me. So it's best if I just eliminate the bastard as soon as possible." He followed her into the room. "But I'd appreciate it if you'd put some clothes on as soon as possible. I don't like Pauley gawking at you, and it distracts me."

  "Pauley isn't-" She stopped as she saw that Dardon and Pauley were both standing by the stove, and they were staring at her bare legs and feet. "That's not my problem. You all can deal with it. I'm de¬cent." She strode over to the stove and took the cup of coffee Pauley handed her. "Thank you."

  "Talk, Pauley," Garrett said curtly.

  "I broke through to the database about two this morning." Pauley made a face. "Damn it was hard. I was tempted to go to bed, but I was zinging by that time, so I decided to plow through the records and come up with a name and address."

  "And did you?"

  "Sure. I told you, I got it." He took a notebook out of his back pocket. "Charles Vorstov-Babin. He used Babin in London but his full name in Russia."

  Emily stiffened. "Babin?"

  Pauley glanced up. "You've heard of him?"

  "Only once."

  On that hideous day that had so traumatized her, she hadn't even been able to remember it.

  Pauley looked back at his notes. "He's an attorney who moved from London to Moscow at the end of the Cold War. There were a lot of Western industrialists who decided to come to the Soviet Union to do business and make a killing. Babin decided that he'd make a killing of his own by representing them and getting a cut of the gravy train. He's illegitimate, but his mother was Russian and he speaks the language. It came in handy when he moved back to Russia. He fit in with both the Russian government and his new clients from Great Britain and the U.S. He's very successful and not above skidding very close to the edge when it comes to honest business practices."

  "And his address?"

  "Got that, too. His office is in a little town north of Moscow. Dal-baz. His home is an estate that was confiscated by the Bolsheviks after they killed the royal family. It once belonged to Grand Duke Igor."

  "How far north of Moscow?"

  "About fifty miles."

  "Not very convenient for doing business," Emily said. "And he must have done very well if he could afford to buy that estate."

  He shrugged. "Maybe he has a select clientele that can afford to keep him in the style to which he'd like to be accustomed."

  "How well is he doing?" Emily asked. She remembered the term Garrett had used when he'd spoken about Staunton's cash flow. "Un¬limited funds?"

  "I haven't had time to do an in-depth study, but I don't think so."

  Dardon shook his head. "I'm sorry, I should have been able to lo¬cate Babin before this, Emily. Hell, I've been checking since before you went after Nemid. It was that damn double name that threw me off."

  "It doesn't matter. We have him now. I just don't understand why his profile doesn't agree with what Garrett was told about Staunton. Staunton doesn't have unlimited funds, and now neither does Babin?"

  "We'll find out, Emily," Garrett said quietly. He turned to Dardon. "Now you have a full name and address. Call Ferguson and get him to tap every source he has and see if he can find out anything more. See if he has a client named Staunton."

  "You're using Ferguson again?" Emily asked.

  "Hell yes, I want to see what dirt he can dig up on Babin. Fergu¬son has contacts, and we might as well use them. Let him earn his pay¬off. Tell him to get the information as fast as he can."

  "Then you won't need me any longer," Pauley said. "Do I get to go home?"

  Garrett stared at him for a moment. "It's tempting. But I think I'll keep you here for a little while. Something may come up." He turned to Emily. "Shower and get dressed. We'll go visit Babin and see if we can get a few answers ourselves."

  BABIN'S OFFICE WAS LOCATED in a brick building on a street with other professional offices. The street was clean and well main¬tained, and the town of Dalbaz appeared prosperous.

  "Very nice," Garrett said as he held the door open for Emily. "How are you doing? Are you okay?"

  "Yes. Why shouldn't I be?"

  "No reason. You can never tell how anything is going to hit some¬one. We're getting closer."

  And she was feeling nervous. How had he known? Lord, he was per¬ceptive. "Let's get even closer." She moved to the desk, where a blond receptionist was sitting. "We'd like to see Mr. Babin, please."

  "You have an appointment?" Her English was faintly accented, and her smile was flashing white in her pretty face.

  "No. But we need to see him. My name is Emily Hudson and this

  "I'm sorry, but Mr. Babin never sees anyone without an appoint¬ment. Perhaps you can-"

  "Perhaps we can see him right now." Garrett took Emily's elbow and whisked her toward the inner door. "It will be fine. Trust me."

  "It will not be fine." The receptionist's smile was gone as she jumped to her feet and ran after them. "I told you that-" She stopped and said to the man who had gotten to his feet as they walked into the room. "I'm sorry, Mr. Babin. I told them that you never saw-"

  "John Garrett and this is Emily Hudson," Garrett said. "We need to talk to you, Babin."

  "It seems to be somewhat important, Nadia," Babin said to the re¬ceptionist. "Perhaps we should make an exception. It will be all right." lr you re sure:

  "I'm not sure, but I'm willing to be open." He smiled at Emily as the receptionist left the room. He was a heavyset man in his fifties, with smoothly barbered black hair and a toothy smile as glossy and slick as his hair. "Now what is this all about?"

  She drew a deep breath, trying to smother the anger that was be¬ginning to kindle. "Suppose you tell us. Nicholas Zelov called you two nights ago. He was frightened." She paused. "And he mentioned Mikhail Zelov's Book of Living."

  "I don't remember such a call. You must be mistaken. Did Mr. Zelov tell you that he'd called me?"

  "No."

  "Oh, my, then you must have tapped this call by illegal means." He shook his head reprovingly. "And I really can't discuss it with you."

  "Discuss it," Emily repeated. "Illegal?" He was so smooth, so con¬fident that she suddenly lost control. "How can you say that? My God, you couldn't be more dirty."

  "Nonsense. You're the one who committed an illegal act. I wouldn't want to be an accomplice by even talking about your misdemeanor. Be¬sides, you're mistaken; I know nothing about Zelov or this book."

  "Nor Staunton?" she asked through clenched teeth. "Where is Staunton?"

  "All of this is a complete mystery to me." He glanced at Garrett. "You're being very quiet, Mr. Garrett. You must have been forced to come here with this woman. I'm sure you realize that a man of my professional reputation would not be involved in anything in the least crooked."

  "The lady said it all. She didn't need my help." Garrett stared him in the eye. "You don't know anything. You never heard of Staunton. We're mistaken. If you did know anything, you wouldn't tell us. Have I got it right?"

  Babin nodded. "In a nutshell." He smiled. "Now I believe it's time you left."

  "I believe you're right," Garrett took Emily's arm. "We've struck out here, Emily. Let's leave before Mr. Babin has us arrested for illegal wiretapping. Gee, he has me scared."

  Babin's smile remained firmly in place. "I'd never do that. It's clearly a case of mistaken identity, if there was such a call." He turned to Emily. "And I'd never cause this lady additional grief after all she's been through. Naturally, I recognize her from her photos in the newspapers. Perhaps she's a little distraught from her experience in the mountains?"

  "You mean she's nuts?" Garrett asked. "No, I don't believe so. Are you unbalanced, Emily?"

  "Stop it, Garrett. I've had enough." Emily took a step closer to Babin. "Yes, I'm distraught." Her voice was shaking with rage. "And who should know better than you about my experience in tho
se mountains. You were there. Did you hear him screaming, Babin?"

  Babin didn't change expression. "I beg your pardon?"

  "No one begged Joel's pardon. No one stopped hurting him when he begged." The words kept tumbling out. "And then he couldn't beg any longer. Why would you-"

  "Emily." Garrett's hand tightened on her arm. "Not now. It's not going to do any good."

  "He's got to tell me where Staunton-" She drew a deep, harsh breath. She felt as if she was going to explode. He was right. Babin wasn't going to say anything. She could see nothing in his expression but bland satisfaction. She wanted to slap him, tear out that smooth hair by the roots. She jerked away from Garrett and turned on her heel. "I'm out of here." She strode out of the office.

  Garrett caught up with her as she reached the front door. "Take it easy. This isn't the end. It's just the first round. We knew that he probably wouldn't cave. We just have to go at it another way."

  "I lost my temper." She looked straight ahead as she walked toward the car. "I fell apart. I didn't mean to do that." Her hands clenched into fists. "But he kept smiling, Garrett. He was so smug. I was wondering if he was smiling like that while he was talking to Staunton that day. Joel was screaming, and no one cared but me. He kept smiling…"

  "Shh." He stopped in the street and drew her into his arms. "I know. I know. You did fine."

  "No I didn't." She buried her face in his chest. "I fell apart. I shouldn't have done that. I think he liked it."

  "We'll just have to make sure he pays for it, won't we?" His arms tightened around her. "And I would have probably exploded myself under the same circumstances."

  She felt warm and safe in his arms. A moment ago, she'd been crumbling away with fury and frustration, but, incredibly, it was be¬ginning to be okay now. "Let's get out of here." She pushed away from him. "It's the middle of the street in broad daylight. If Babin saw us, he'd be very happy that he'd upset me this much."

  "It would be short-lived." He pushed her hair away from her face. "I promise you everything about Babin will be short-lived."

  She felt a chill. It was strange when she'd been in such a fury only moments before and wanted to strike out at Babin herself. "Not before we find Staunton and Zelov's book." She turned away and moved to¬ward the car. "He didn't even change expressions when I mentioned Staunton's name."

  "He's very slick, very smooth." Garrett got into the driver's seat. He glanced back at Dardon in the backseat. "Anything?"

  "No." Dardon looked up from his computer keyboard. "Too bad. He's neither drunk, nor stupid. If he knew we traced him through Zelov, he wouldn't be caught in the same trap. He'd find another way to make contact."

  "You think he'd be contacting Staunton?" Emily asked.

  Garrett nodded. "Or someone else."

  "You don't believe he's Staunton's employer?"

  "I didn't say that. But he could be the middleman. From what you told me, Staunton's reaction toward Babin was annoyance, and there should probably be more intimidation and respect if it was Babin pulling the strings. And the bankroll Staunton had at his disposal couldn't be furnished by Babin."

  "But Nicholas Zelov called Babin, and it seemed as if Babin was in control."

  "We'll have to see. When I talk to Ferguson again, we may know more. Did you talk to Ferguson yet, Dardon?"

  "Yeah, he was pretty sour, but he said he'd get back to you."

  "I hope he has something for us. We didn't accomplish anything with Babin," Emily said.

  "Actually, we did." Garrett started the car. "At least now we've taken his measure."

  "And he's taken ours?"

  He shook his head. "Hell no, he's not even gotten close."

  FOURTEEN

  FERGUSON CALLED GARRETT two hours after they reached the farmhouse. "What? Just information?" he asked sarcastically. "No crime scenes to clean up? No dead bodies?"

  "Dardon said you were a tad bad-tempered about this."

  "I don't like being used."

  "Neither do I. But you didn't hesitate when you came knocking on my door to get Emily out of those mountains. What did you find out about Babin?"

  "Dardon said you knew the basics."

  "The phrase I'm interested in is 'unlimited funds.' Does Babin have them?"

  "No, he does well. But he's nowhere near that class." "He has that estate in the country."

  "He gambles a lot. He came back from Monte Carlo one day with a potload of money. Paid his taxes and still had enough to buy the estate."

  "A lucky windfall," Garrett murmured, remembering the castle built by Mikhail Zelov. "It seems to be the preferred way of acquiring choice real estate. Did anyone check with the casinos?"

  "Sure. It checked out." He continued, "Of course, who's to say that the casino didn't get a nice fee to say what Babin wanted them to say?

  "What a cynic you are," Garrett said. "You said he does very well. Who are Babin's principal clients?"

  "He has several English manufacturers who moved here after the Cold War and have done even better than Babin."

  "Names."

  "His principal clients are John Broderick, Peter Joslyn, William Smythe. Now, any of those men would qualify for 'unlimited funds.' Babin also does some work for the Russian government and the Rus¬sian Orthodox Church. He often has meetings with Bishop Dimitri Pushkal."

  "What?"

  "Bishop Dimitri is one of the most powerful men in the Church. Both the Church and the government have tremendous influence in their different areas. Babin has to deal with both of them to protect his clients. You can never tell when a small bribe or deal in either camp might free up a piece of real estate or smooth the way toward licensing."

  "Does Babin have any family? A mistress?"

  "Not at present."

  "He has a blond bombshell at the reception desk in his office."

  "Nadia Vladar. She's not his mistress. Though he's been known to lend her out to his clients on occasion. She's very accommodating, and he pays her very well."

  "She seemed pretty eager to please him."

  "Anything else?"

  "I'll need in-depth reports on Smythe, Broderick, and Joslyn."

  "I'm ahead of you. It's already in the works." He paused. "You know I'm not going to let you make me go at this blind indefinitely?"

  "No, but I think you will until you begin to doubt I can give you what you want."

  Ferguson didn't speak for a moment, but Garrett could feel the frustration behind that silence. "You son of a bitch. What else do you need?"

  "I'll let you know."

  "I'm sure you will." Ferguson hung up.

  "You heard him, Emily." Garrett turned down the volume on his phone before he hung up. "Any thoughts?" "Babin is a middleman." He nodded. "But for whom?"

  "Maybe we'll know that when Ferguson gets back to us with his reports." She shook her head. "But I don't want to wait, dammit."

  "You may not have to wait for everything. There's a good possibil¬ity that Babin got in touch with Staunton after Zelov called him. It's almost sure he'll manage to contact him now that he knows we're on his turf."

  "And Staunton will come to us." The realization hit home with chilling impact. That was what she had wanted. Yet it didn't stop her from feeling vulnerable. "He still wants to get his hands on me. We can use that to set a trap for him."

  "Not yet. We want to gather everyone in at the same time. We just have to sit tight until we're ready."

  "And will Staunton let us just sit tight? What if he comes after us?

  "We're safe here for a little while. Dardon buried the paperwork for the rental of the farmhouse. And I made sure we weren't followed from Babin's office."

  "I don't want to sit tight," she said. "We can gather everyone else in later. I want Staunton."

  "I know you do." He leaned back in his chair. "But you also want to find the cause of all the misery he's caused. You want to find the hammer. You told me once you dreamed about it. Do you want some big-time industrialist to find i
t and get the treasure Joel paid for with his life?"

  "Don't be stupid. Of course, I don't." The hammer was like a Medusa's head with serpents stretching out and strangling everything around it. It had struck down Joel. Sometimes she felt as if it were still striking at her. "But I don't want you to be right either."

  "I am right, Emily."

  She gazed at him in helpless frustration. Dammit, she realized he was right. She knew he was being reasonable and setting goals that would take them to where they had to be, but that didn't stop her from wanting to move faster, reach out for Staunton before he could slip away. "Okay. For now." She turned on her heel. "But if the chance comes to get Staunton, I'm not going to wait." She strode to her bed¬room and swung the door closed behind her with a firm click.

  GARRETT STARED THOUGHTFULLY at the door.

  Emily had temporarily given in, but it wouldn't last long. Ever since she had arrived here and confronted Babin, she had been in an emotional tailspin. Who could blame her? Every time she turned around, she was faced with a memory of that horror in the mountains. It was a wonder that she was doing as well as she was.

  But that tension and horror were going to increase the longer they kept on the trail. He could only help her so far. In fact, he could be part of the problem. She had said he had made her feel alive. Dammit, he had never thought he would want her emotions to be dulled.

  Okay, not dulled, just soothed.

  But nothing about their relationship was soothing. It was hot and sexual, and they were still learning each other physically and emotion¬ally. Yes, he wasn't what she needed right now.

  He slowly took out his phone and dialed the number.

  "Is Emily all right?" Irana asked immediately when she picked up the phone. "I had a dream about her last night, Garrett."

  "She's fine. Just a little tense. How are you, Irana?"

  "Fine. Busy. But Dr. Kaidu has so many assistants that they're tripping over each other." She paused. "He wouldn't really miss me if I moved on. When do you want me?"

  He chuckled. "How do you know I do?"

  "You called me. Your voice is a little hesitant. You probably don't want to ask a favor of me. You never do."