Deadlock

by Iris Johansen

  "He came very close without the treasure."

  "But imagine if he had billions to call upon. My friend, Sergai Nar¬tova, kept him leashed." He smiled faindy. "And all the while Zelov thought he was in control. He told Sergai that unless he gave him money, he would turn the amulets and hammer over to the new Communist gov¬ernment. It was a formidable threat at the time. The Communists were draining us, forming a godless nation, and Nartova didn't want them to gain more influence by finding the fortune of the Tsar they'd murdered. But that was not the reason he risked his soul to keep Zelov at bay."

  "Evil," Irana said. "He thought Zelov was close to being an archde-mon?

  "You do understand. I thought you would." He nodded. "He told me once that he knew from the moment he met Zelov that he realized what he was or could be. He read his book and even visited Jerusalem to try to find out more about him. When Zelov came to him, it was his chance to harness him and keep him from becoming what he was destined to be."

  "He went to all those lengths?"

  "Yes. He should have been Patriarch of all Russia. He gave up everything to come here to Ekaterinaburg and watch over the ham¬mer. For God's sake. For mankind's sake."

  "And you didn't tell anyone all these years? Even after Nartova died? You knew that the hammer was in that museum, and you didn't try to get it out?"

  "Why should I? Nothing really changed in the government until the eighties. The Communists would have snatched the Tsar's trea¬sure and used it to keep the nation under their thumb. After Nartova died, I wanted only to follow in his footsteps. He made the decision; I just kept to his guidelines." He made a face. "Though I nearly failed him. Two years ago, the Patriarch summoned me to Moscow for a month. When I came back, I found the curator of the museum had sent the exhibit on loan to the museum in Afghanistan. I couldn't get it back. The area had been put out of bounds because of heavy fight¬ing in the area. All I could do was wait and watch."

  "Until Nicholas Zelov came to see you."

  He nodded. "It was as if Mikhail Zelov had reached out from the grave and tried to destroy everything Sergai Nartova had tried to do."

  "The Communists' power was tremendously lessened."

  "But they wouldn't have permitted the Tsar's fortune to leave the country. They would have absorbed it, devoured it. And, if they had not done it, the Romanov heirs would have been fighting for the next fifty years to get a share."

  "And you weren't going to let that happen."

  "If anyone was going to get the Tsar's billions, it should be the people who needed it. There are charities all over the world that need help. Children have always touched me. Special children, starving children, children who have been abused. Jesus said let the little chil¬dren come unto me. I thought that my friend Nartova would have liked that I might be able to help them. He had guarded the hammer for all those years to keep the treasure from being used by those who wanted only to corrupt. He told me once that the only way to win the treasure was to leave it alone. I had to protect the hammer, protect the children. But now I had the amulets, and I could reach out and give back to the world. Isn't it better that I take the hammer into my keep¬ing than let it go to someone who would not care for it as I would?"

  Irana shook her head in amazement. For a man of his years and education, his view in this matter was incredibly simplistic. He obvi¬ously looked upon the treasure as belonging to Sergai Nartova rather than the Tsar or any other entity. His friend had cared for it, guarded it, and therefore had more right to it than anyone else. "I don't believe that the government would agree with you."

  "Exactly. That's what I've been telling you." His eyes were narrowed shrewdly on her face. "But you agree with me, don't you? I thought you would."

  "I agree that those in need would better profit than bureaucrats, but that doesn't mean you have the right to take what doesn't belong to you." She smiled. "Good Samaritans should dole out their own alms, Bishop Dimitri. Not borrow from others."

  "I appreciate the fact that you didn't say steal." He chuckled. "But I admit that I committed that sin. It's a sin I could live with if I could see thousands of hungry children fed because of my transgression." His smile faded. "But I cannot live with the horror that has come of all this. When Joslyn told me of what Staunton has done, it made me-I was stunned. I never thought it would happen. But I still must accept the blame for it."

  "Joslyn paid out the money."

  "Are you trying to give me an excuse? Peter is a good man. I was the one who drew him into my scheme." He shook his head and cor¬rected, "No, into my dream. Such a good man… Even now he's rush¬ing here to try to protect me."

  "And what do you want to do now?"

  He leaned back on the bench. "I want to sit here in the sun. Later I will pray and let God decide what is best." He smiled. "I believe he is already at work. After all, he sent me a messenger."

  She shook her head.

  "I've made you uncomfortable," he said. "Don't be. Messengers sometimes don't recognize their mission." He searched her face. "But I think you were sensitive to… something. But I sense pain within you. Tell me, have I hurt you, child?"

  "No, you haven't hurt me, Bishop Dimitri."

  "Then I pray your pain will leave you." He closed his eyes. "We won't talk about it anymore. But I want you to know you've brought me comfort."

  "I don't know why. I can't keep what you've done a secret."

  "You'll do what you have to do. But will you stay with me for a lit¬tle while? It's not every day a messenger comes to visit. There's a blessed… peace about you."

  She felt a sudden rush of sympathy. He had been wrong, but his motives had been right. He had wanted to save children and been will¬ing to sacrifice himself to do it. How many other people could say as much? "I'll stay with you." She leaned back. "As long as you like, Bishop Dimitri."

  "EVERYTHING OKAY?" GARRETT asked, when Dardon answered the phone.

  "As far as I know," Dardon said. "They've been inside the residency for the last twenty minutes." He added, "I tried to go in with them, but Irana wouldn't let me. I didn't think she'd let Emily go ei¬ther for a few minutes."

  "I didn't have any doubt." When Emily had suddenly jumped out of the car and told him that she was going with Irana, he'd known there would be no way to stop her. "But I don't like it that they're not out yet."

  "Do you want me to go after them?"

  Yes. But he knew better. It would only antagonize both of them, and the time wasn't unreasonable yet. But he wanted to be closer, not sitting here on pins and needles. "No." He opened his car door. "I'm coming to you. I should be there in five minutes."

  EMILY GOT UP FROM HER CHAIR and strolled over to the French doors through which Irana had disappeared. She shook her head in wonder as she saw the bishop and Irana sitting together on the bench by the fountain. The old man was sitting with his eyes closed and looked as if he was about to drift off to sleep, and Irana had taken his hand and was sitting in silence. Emily couldn't have imagined a more comfortable or tranquil scene. Irana might have been the old man's granddaughter and certainly wasn't interrogating him with any degree of urgency. In fact, Emily could almost feel the bond that was draw¬ing the old man and the young woman together. Strange, but no stranger than Irana's insistence on coming here.

  Her phone rang, and she didn't check the ID. It had to be Garrett wondering why-

  "Hello, Emily, beautiful day, isn't it?"

  She felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. "Staunton?"

  "You're always surprised when I call you. I don't know why. You should know I want to keep in touch. I've made sure that I know where you are, where you go. It seems a long time since our chat at the silo."

  "I was hoping you'd bled to death."

  "Yes, I was very angry with you about that. But I wasn't seriously hurt, and I'm back in fine form."

  "That's unfortunate. I'll try to do better next time."

  "I'm sure you will. I gained a new respect for you, Emily. At
first, I only wanted to kill you at the earliest possible opportunity, but then I realized that nothing had really changed. In fact, my admiration will be like a savory flavor added to our experience."

  "Babin is dead. You killed him, didn't you?"

  "Did I?"

  "You murdered Nemid and Babin. Did you kill Nicholas Zelov?"

  "Not personally."

  "Borg?"

  "I really shouldn't incriminate Borg. He's been very helpful."

  "Why? Why are you doing it?"

  "Can't you guess? But you're such a smart woman."

  "Tell me."

  "Old Mikhail Zelov had the right idea. You have to clear the way if you're going to become a god. Witnesses are awkward. It's better that no one is left alive to tell the tale."

  "A god?"

  "That much money can make a man into a god. That's why Mikhail Zelov kept coming back here and trying to get his hammer. I understand him perfectly. He was a rich man, but he didn't have enough to become what he thought was his destiny."

  "He was a monster. He was responsible for the deaths of the royal family and Rasputin."

  "And that left no one who could get in his way. Very smart. I ad¬mire his efficiency. From the moment I read that Book of Living that wimp Nicholas Zelov had sold to Babin, I knew that Mikhail Zelov and I were so much alike, we could have been mirror images. Except I'm much smarter. I can do it better. That's why I made out my list. I wonder if Mikhail Zelov had a list."

  "Nemid, Zelov, and Babin were on this… list?" "Of course."

  She moistened her lips. "And who else?"

  "You and your friends." He paused. "I have a special plan for Gar¬rett. I've decided I'm going to take a long, long time killing him. It will be worse than what Levy suffered."

  Shock and panic rippled through her.

  "You're not speaking. Does the thought upset you? I believe I'll let you watch again."

  No, not again. Not to Garrett.

  Don't let Staunton know what his words had done to her. She kept her voice steady. "Who else?"

  "So that you can run to the rescue?" His tone turned malicious. "As you did with Sister Irana? You were a little late. Did she tell you what I-"

  "Shut up. Don't talk about her."

  "Oh, I did hurt you there, didn't I? If I'd had more time, I would have-"

  "I said shut up."

  "You can't stop me. Not with her. Not with Garrett. That's the way to hurt you, Emily. I remember you were so terribly upset that you couldn't save your friend, Levy."

  "Who else is on your list?"

  "I don't believe I'll tell you. You should really worry about your¬self. That's what I want you to do. I want you to sweat. I want you to panic. I want your heart to start pounding when you hear my voice. Terror is a bit like sex if it's done right. Same moist palms, same tight¬ening of the muscles. Is your heart pounding now, Emily?"

  "No."

  "It will. I've neglected you far too long. Your Garrett was too savvy. I had to work around him and do damage control. But don't worry; I can give you the majority of my attention now."

  "By all means. Stop hiding and come out in the open. Maybe you're afraid that I'll manage to kill you. I'm really a very good shot. You would have been dead if you hadn't moved at the last second. Let's see if you can do anything but make threatening phone calls."

  He chuckled. "You're taunting me. How very brave… and foolish. For you see, it's all at what location I make those threatening phone calls."

  She stiffened. "What location?"

  "It's a beautiful day and the rose garden is particularly lovely, isn t it?

  She forgot to breathe. She couldn't speak.

  "And I believe that our Bishop Dimitri is taking a little snooze. Your friend, Irana, must not be a good conversationalist." "Where are you?"

  "At a point where I can see everything you can see. I was disap¬pointed when you didn't follow Irana Povak out to join the bishop. But then I realized it was all to the good. I want you to be last, and now I'll be able to let you witness, as you did with Levy. You must like Irana Povak very much to go through all you did for her. You took her away from me, but now I can take her back in the most final way possible."

  "Where are you?" she repeated hoarsely.

  "Close enough. I'm very good with a rifle. I'm sighting now…"

  "No!" She jammed the phone in her pocket as she tore open the door. "Irana! Get down!" She was running down the path. "You've got to get down!"

  She could see Irana's startled face. The bishop was opening his eyes, straightening on the bench. "It's Staunton. Get down. He's going to-"

  "You get down, Emily." Irana had thrown herself on the bishop and was pulling him to the ground.

  A low pop came from somewhere above and behind Emily. Irana!

  Irana and Bishop Dimitri were both crumpled on the ground. Blood…

  And Staunton must still be up there with his rifle. Emily instinctively dove sideways and rolled behind a bank of rosebushes lining the path. No shot.

  She had to help Irana. She began to crawl toward them.

  No shot.

  "Emily!"

  Garrett! "Get down. Staunton-" "I know." Garrett was beside her. "Are you okay?" She nodded jerkily as she tried to pull him down to the ground. Staunton-

  "Are you sure it was Staunton? We caught sight of a shooter on the rooftop next door when we ran into the garden, but we couldn't iden¬tify him. Dardon is chasing him."

  "I'm sure. He called me. He wanted me to know." She got to her feet. "He wanted me to know he was going to kill Irana."

  "Irana?"

  Emily wasn't listening. She was running toward the two people ly¬ing by the bench. "She was hit. There was blood…"

  "Not my blood." Irana was slowly sitting up, her gaze fixed on the face of the bishop. "I tried to drag him down. I tried…"

  Emily was staring down at Bishop Dimitri. A bloody hole had blossomed in the exact center of the bishop's forehead. "Very precise," she said dully. "Staunton told me he was a good shot. It wasn't you he meant to kill at all. He just wanted to see me panic."

  Irana reached out and gently touched the bishop's cheek. "He didn't get a chance to pray. He told me he wanted to pray."

  "We've got to get out of here." Garrett was pulling Irana to her feet. "The housekeeper knew you were with him, and she must have seen Emily, too. Staunton was using a silencer, or she would probably have run out here when she heard the shot."

  "So I'm now a murder suspect?" Irana's eyes were glittering with moisture. "He said I was a messenger, but I don't think that's what he meant. I don't believe he expected-" She broke off, then said wearily, "Or maybe he did. I don't know…"

  "I know we should get out of this garden," Garrett said. "We'll go out the garden gate and-"

  "My God." A heavyset, red-haired man in his late forties stood in the doorway. "What have you done?"

  Garrett stiffened warily, his hand moved to his jacket pocket. "Who are you?"

  "Wait," Irana said. "Joslyn. The bishop said he was on his way."

  "You've murdered him," Joslyn said dully. He moved toward the fallen man. "I warned him that he shouldn't see-"

  "You're the one who murdered him," Emily said coldly. "Staunton pulled the trigger, but you hired him."

  "Staunton did this? Yes, I can see him-" He fell to his knees be¬side the bishop. "Dimitri…"

  There were tears in his eyes, Emily noticed. For a moment she felt a flicker of sympathy, then pushed it away. "What did you think he'd do? You hire a cobra, and you don't expect him to strike as many peo¬ple as he can reach? How much extra did you give him for killing Joel Levy?"

  "I didn't know." He looked down at the bishop. "Neither of us knew. I told Babin to get someone who could do the job. I didn't think he'd-"

  Emily couldn't stand any more. "Let's get out of here." She turned toward the gate. "I don't want Irana to get in trouble because his pet killer decided to-"

  "Wait." Joslyn got to his
feet. "I'll go in and talk to his house¬keeper and tell her that you've left the residency. Then I'll send her home for the weekend. She shouldn't be back until nine or ten Mon¬day morning."

  "You can do that?" Garrett asked.

  Joslyn nodded. "She knows Dimitri and I are very good friends. I've had dinner here at least once a week for the last ten years."

  Garrett gazed at him without expression. "And then what?"

  "And then I'll carry my friend to his room and say a prayer and leave him there." He gazed down at the bishop. "He told me he wanted to make peace. I knew that meant he wanted to confess his sin, our sin. I ran here to stop him. I wanted to protect him. I didn't do it, did I? I was protecting him from the wrong people. I didn't know Staunton would-" He shook his head. "But that doesn't mean that I wasn't at fault."

  "You're right," Emily said. "You've been like Pilate, washing his hands of blame."

  He shook his head. "Not anymore. Not since I found out the ugli¬ness I unleashed." He met her gaze. "You're angry. I'm sorry. I hurt you."

  "Yes, you did," Emily said. "You hurt a lot of people." She glanced down at the bishop. "And so did he."

  "Attack me," Joslyn said. "Not Dimitri. He only wanted to save the hammer, save the children. I could have said no. But I'd spent too much time in Ethiopia, seeing the devastation hunger could do to children. He trusted me. I could have paid more attention to what Babin was doing. I could have been more careful."

  "That's not what Bishop Dimitri told me," Irana said. "He said that he took full responsibility." She added quietly, "And I believe he did make peace before he died."

  "This isn't the time for shuffling blame," Garrett said. "If you're going to talk to the housekeeper, go do it." He took Irana's arm and nudged her toward Emily, who was standing by the gate. "You go on to the car. I'll stay and help him move Bishop Dimitri to his room."

  "The car?" Emily repeated. She was remembering something else Staunton had said. "Staunton knew where we were. He told me so. It's not logical that he would have been waiting for us here. Could he have bugged the car?"

  "It's possible," Garrett said grimly. "No, it's damn probable. We just rented the car that Dardon used to drive Irana here this morning, so it's more than likely the car we've been using since we arrived hei in Russia was bugged. Dammit to hell, I wasn't careful enough. I tol Dardon before I left the farmhouse that night that he had to be sure t check the car out after we came back from Babin's, but it didn't hap pen. All any of us could think about was getting Pauley to find Iran; We knew we had to move fast and-" He stopped and shook his heac "That's water under the bridge. Damage control. Go get in the a that Dardon rented today. We'll abandon the other one." He turne back to Joslyn. "Hurry, let's get this taken care of." Joslyn nodded and moved toward the house.