“So what do I get?”
“To look at it for the rest of your life.”
“Thanks,” said Alex. “And can I ask where the beneficiary is?”
“He’s staying overnight with his grandmother.”
“Does that mean my mother has taken a night off?” Alex asked in mock disbelief.
“Half a night. Konstantin likes Elena’s margheritas better than anything I ever cook for him,” Anna said as she finished her salad. “And don’t give me that me too look. So what else have you been up to today?”
“Sheldon Woods came to see me this morning to ask if I’d be interested in standing for the Senate.”
“How long did it take you to turn down that attractive offer?” asked Anna as the waiter whisked away their empty plates.
“I thought long and hard about it for twenty seconds.”
“I can remember the time, not so long ago, when you were fascinated by politics,” said Anna. “The only thing you ever wanted to be was the first elected president of an independent Russia.”
“And I confess that would be far more tempting than the Senate,” said Alex. “But that all changed the day Lawrence died,” he added as the waiter reappeared and presented them with two Dover soles.
“On or off the bone, madam?”
“Off please, François, for both of us. My husband isn’t making any important decisions tonight.”
“And the management hoped that you would enjoy a bottle of Chablis Beauregard to mark this special occasion, with our compliments.”
“I should have married you, François, as it’s clear you would never have forgotten our wedding anniversary, and would have known exactly what gift to give me.”
François bowed and left them.
“But when Lawrence left you his fifty percent of the bank’s shares, they were worthless,” said Anna, “and now they must be worth a fortune.”
“Possibly, but I can’t afford to offload any of my stock while Evelyn still owns the other fifty percent, because then she’d have overall control.”
“Perhaps she might consider selling her shares? After all, she always seems to be short of cash.”
“Quite possibly, but I don’t have that sort of capital available,” said Alex.
“But if I remember correctly,” said Anna, “on the day our son was born Evelyn offered you her shares for a million dollars and I suggested you might live to regret not buying them.”
“Mea culpa,” said Alex. “And at the time I even considered selling off Elena’s so I could buy the shares myself, but that would have been one hell of a risk, because if the bank had gone under, we’d have ended up with nothing.”
“Hindsight,” said Anna. “But dare I ask what those shares are worth now?”
“About three hundred million dollars.”
Anna gasped. “Will the bank end up having to pay her the full amount?”
“Possibly, because we can’t afford to let another bank get hold of fifty percent of our stock, otherwise we’d be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives, especially if Doug Ackroyd turned out to be advising them.”
“Perhaps you should have agreed to stand for the Senate. Far less hassle, and a guaranteed salary,” said Anna.
“While having to listen to the views of millions of voters, rather than a dozen board members.”
“It would be even more, if you fulfilled your lifelong dream and stood for president.”
“Of America?”
“No, Russia.”
Alex didn’t reply immediately.
“Ah,” said Anna, “so you do still think about the possibility.”
“Aware that like any dream, I’ll wake up,” said Alex, as François reappeared by their side.
“Can I tempt you with dessert, madam?” he asked.
“Certainly not,” said Anna. “We’ve both had quite enough. Anniversaries should not be an excuse to put on weight. And he,” she said, pointing to her husband, “missed his gym session again today. So definitely nothing for him.”
François filled their glasses and took away the empty bottle.
“To another memorable year together, Mrs. Karpenko,” said Alex, raising his glass.
“I wish you weren’t going to Russia.”
* * *
“I wish you weren’t going to Russia,” said Elena, as she placed two pizzas in front of them.
“You and Anna,” said Alex as a waiter rushed across and said, “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Karpenko, but your secretary has just called to let you know there’s been a problem with the visas, and asked if you could return to your office as soon as possible.”
“I’d better go and find out what the trouble is,” said Alex. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”
He left his mother and an anxious-looking Pushkin to finish their pizzas, while he quickly made his way back to the office, where Miss Robbins was waiting for him.
“Is it all going to plan?” she asked.
“Yes, Misha and my mother were sharing a pizza when I left them. She may not know a great deal about banking or business, but when you’ve been in the catering trade for as long as she has, there’s not much you don’t know about people. Anything important before I head back?”
“Ted Kennedy’s assistant called to confirm that all five visas will be on your desk by four o’clock this afternoon, and she also reminded me that the senator will be standing for reelection next year.”
“That’s going to cost me another hundred thousand.”
“I’ve also got you a thousand dollars in cash and the equivalent in rubles, as checks and credit cards still don’t seem to cut much ice in the Soviet Union. The team are booked into the Hotel Europa for five nights.”
“One night might turn out to be enough.”
“And Captain Fullerton is expecting you at Logan around eleven this evening. He has a slot booked for eleven thirty. You’ll refuel in London, before flying on to Leningrad. So now you can go back and find out what your mother makes of Mr. Pushkin.”
Alex took his time returning to Elena’s, and when he arrived, he could see his mother listening attentively to every word Misha was saying. The anxious look returned to the Russian’s face when Alex joined them.
“A problem with the visas?” he asked.
“No, it’s all been sorted out. I hope you enjoyed the pizza.”
“I’ve never had one before,” admitted Pushkin, “and I have already told your mother I know the ideal spot to open the first Elena’s in Leningrad. If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I have to go and do what you Americans call ‘freshen up.’”
The moment he disappeared downstairs, Alex asked, “What’s your verdict, Mama?”
“He’s pure gold,” said Elena. “Not even gold plated. I know nothing about gas except how to turn it on and off, and I accept I’ve only just met Misha, but I’d happily leave him standing next to an open till.”
“Family?” asked Alex, not wanting to waste a moment before Misha returned.
“He has a wife, Olga, and two children, Yuri and Tatiana, who are both hoping to go to university, but he thinks their daughter’s chances are better than his son’s, whose sole interest seems to be motorbikes. Frankly, Alex, I don’t think Misha could pull the wool over your eyes, even if you were fast asleep.”
Pushkin reappeared at the top of the stairs.
“Thank you, Mama. Then it looks as if I’m on my way to Leningrad.”
“Please remember to visit your father’s grave, and do try to catch up with your uncle Kolya. I can’t wait to hear all his news.”
40
ALEX
Boston and Leningrad
Alex had assembled a team of four heads of department, led by Jake Coleman, to accompany him to Russia. All were experts in their fields: banking, energy, contract law, and accounting. Dick Barrett, head of the bank’s energy department, had already spent several hours with Pushkin and admitted that he’d come away mightily impressed.
&
nbsp; “That man knows more about the industry than many so-called expert consultants, yet he’s never earned more than a few thousand dollars a year. So for him, this is quite literally the opportunity of a lifetime. He reminded me that Russia has twenty-four percent of the world’s natural gas reserves, as well as twelve percent of its oil. I’ll need to sit next to him on the plane so that by the time we touch down in Leningrad, I just might be able to hold my own.”
It was Andy Harbottle, the company’s new in-house lawyer, known as “Mr. Downside,” who would have to draw up the final contract. But not before his father had given the document his stamp of approval.
Jake had been able to confirm that Pushkin didn’t have a great grasp of finance, and warned Alex that they wouldn’t know if the figures stacked up until they got to LGP’s headquarters and were able to study the books.
“How could he be expected to grasp something this complex?” said Alex. “No one has ever been offered deals where you can make a profit of a thousand percent virtually overnight. What’s happening in Russia today is like the gold rush in California in the 1850s, and we must take advantage of it before our competitors do.”
“I agree,” said Harbottle. “And although I’m a cautious individual by nature—”
“The son of your father,” suggested Alex.
“I’ve never known anyone to seize an opportunity the way you do, and this might even turn out to be that breakthrough you so often talk about that will allow us to join the major leagues.”
“Or bankrupt us.”
“Unlikely,” said Harbottle. “Don’t forget, we have one big advantage over our rivals. Our chairman is Russian, and was born in Leningrad.”
Alex didn’t add, and escaped after nearly killing a senior KGB officer.
* * *
The six passengers boarded the Gulfstream jet bound for Leningrad, chasing what Jake now called “the gas rush.” None of them had any idea what to expect. The plane refueled at Heathrow, where the team disembarked to stretch their legs and grab a meal in the terminal. Alex would like to have gone into town and visited the Tate, the National Theatre, and even the House of Commons, but not this time.
Alex woke with a start when the captain announced that they were beginning their descent to Pulkovo airport, and asked his passengers to fasten their seatbelts. He thought about the city he’d left all those years ago, also in midair, about his father, his uncle, and even Vladimir, who was more likely to be in Moscow than in Leningrad by now. He tried to push Major Polyakov into the recesses of his mind and concentrate on a deal that could put the bank into another league. Or would he be arrested even before they’d cleared customs?
He looked out of the cabin window, but could see little other than the terminal lights, and a sky full of stars he hadn’t seen since he was a boy.
His emotions were torn. He wasn’t sure if he was glad to be back, but the moment he disembarked, he was reminded of the pace things moved at in Russia. There was slow, slower, and if you were stupid enough to complain, even slower. They waited for over two hours to have their passports checked, and he realized how many things he took for granted living in the States. Had he imagined it, or did the inspector take even longer when he saw the name Karpenko? They then had to wait around for another hour before their bags were released and they were finally allowed to escape.
Pushkin led them out of the terminal and onto the pavement. He raised a hand in the air and five cars immediately swerved across the road, coming to a halt in front of them. Alex and his team looked on in disbelief as Pushkin selected three of them. Everything on four wheels in Leningrad was a taxi, he explained.
“The Astoria,” he instructed each of the chosen drivers. “Make sure you don’t charge more than a ruble,” he added as his new associates piled into the waiting cars.
“But that’s only about a dollar,” said Alex, when Misha joined him in the back seat.
“More than enough,” he replied as the car shot off toward the city center. Another long journey.
By the time they’d all checked into the hotel, they were exhausted.
“Get a good night’s sleep,” said Jake, “because I need you all at your best tomorrow.”
* * *
They met up in the dining room for breakfast the following morning, and although one or two of them looked as if they were still struggling with jet lag, after a couple of black coffees had been drained, and caffeine had entered their bloodstreams, they were all ready for their first assignments.
Jake and Alex set off for the Commercial Bank to try and discover if they could wire transfer twenty-five million dollars to Leningrad at a moment’s notice. After last night’s airport experience Alex couldn’t help feeling a little pessimistic. Dick Barrett accompanied Misha to the LGP factory on the outskirts of the city, while Andy Harbottle went off to meet the company’s lawyers to discuss the contract for the biggest and most complicated deal he’d ever come across. His father would have considered there were altogether too many naughts involved for it to be credible.
Andy had already prepared the first draft of a contract, but he warned Alex, “Even if the Russians sign it, what guarantees do we have that any payments will ever be forthcoming? This may be the new gold rush, but with it went cowboys and this lot aren’t even our cowboys.”
The one statistic he was able to confirm was that when an American sued a Russian in the Soviet courts, he had a four percent chance of winning the case.
The team reassembled in Jake’s room at the hotel at six o’clock that evening. Jake and Alex reported that although Russian banks had been overwhelmed by the government’s recent 180-degree policy U-turns, it had been made clear to them that foreign investors should be welcomed and, unlike Oliver, encouraged to come back for a second helping.
Barrett confirmed that everything Pushkin had claimed about the operation on the ground had proved accurate, although he did feel the company’s safety record left a little to be desired. Alex didn’t stop making notes.
“And the balance sheet?” asked Jake, turning to their number cruncher.
“They don’t seem to understand the basic tenets of modern accountancy practice,” said Mitch Blake. “Which isn’t surprising, as their economy’s been run by party hacks for decades. But it’s still the best goddamn bottom line I’ve ever seen.”
“So let’s play devil’s advocate for a moment,” said Alex. “What’s the downside?”
“They could steal our twenty-five million,” said Andy Harbottle. “But I don’t think we should pack our bags just yet.”
* * *
Over dinner that night, Alex was pleased to see the team relaxing for the first time.
“Are you still seeing your uncle for lunch tomorrow?” asked Jake.
“Sure am. I’m hoping he might be able to give me some inside knowledge on how to handle the current regime.”
“Do you know what this country needs?” said Jake as he cut into a tough steak.
“For my mother to open a pizza parlor on Nevsky Prospect—Elena’s Thirty-seven.”
“That first, and then you should stand for president. An honest Russian who understands free enterprise is exactly what this country needs at the moment.”
“That was always my boyhood dream,” said Alex. “If my father hadn’t been killed, then perhaps…”
“Perhaps what?” said Jake, but Alex didn’t reply as he stared directly ahead. He’d just noticed the three men seated at a table on the other side of the restaurant. The one fear he’d pushed to the back of his mind was suddenly facing him. He wasn’t in any doubt who the older man was, or why the two thugs seated on either side of him were there.
The vicious scar that stretched down the left side of the man’s face and neck was an instant reminder of where he and Alex had last met. Polyakov’s chilling words, “You’ll hang for this,” reverberated in his ears. Anna was right, he should never have made the trip. Jake and his team were more than capable of handling the deal witho
ut him. But he’d allowed the thrill of the chase to overrule common sense.
The man continued to stare at Alex, his eyes fixed on him. Alex wasn’t in any doubt of his intentions. While the rest of the team discussed tactics for the next day, Alex sat on the edge of his seat, tense and alert as he waited for the major to make the first move in a game of chess, which wasn’t likely to end in stalemate.
Alex touched Jake’s elbow. “Listen carefully,” he whispered. “The man I nearly killed the day I escaped from Leningrad is sitting directly opposite us, and I don’t believe in coincidences.”
Jake glanced across at the three men, and said, “But, Alex, that was over twenty years ago.”
“Look at that scar, Jake. Would you forget?”
“And the two men with him?”
“KGB, so they’re above the law. They’ll have no interest in how I die, only when.”
“We must get you to the American Consulate as quickly as possible.”
“I wouldn’t make it to the front gate,” said Alex. “What’s important is for all of you to carry on as if nothing has happened. If anybody asks, tell them I’ve been held up at a meeting, or I’m visiting my uncle Kolya. Just keep stalling. I’ll let you know when I’m safe.”
“Shouldn’t we at least call the consulate and ask their advice?”
“Take another look at the three of them, Jake, and ask yourself if they’re the sort of men you’d invite to a lunch. This isn’t the time for diplomatic exchanges.”
“So what are you going to do?”
“Go native. Don’t forget I was born and raised in this city. You concentrate on closing the deal. I’ll take care of myself.”
As Alex was speaking, a party of six was being shown across the restaurant to their table. The moment they passed between him and Polyakov, like a cloud blocking the sun, Alex slipped away. Jake turned and said, “Did you notice—” but he was no longer there.
Alex didn’t waste time waiting for the elevator, but headed straight for the stairs. He charged up them three at a time, constantly looking back over his shoulder. When he reached the sixth floor, he quickly unlocked the door of his room, then locked himself inside, not bothering to put out the DO NOT DISTURB sign. He tapped six numbers into the pad of the little safe in the wardrobe, opened it, and grabbed his passport and some loose change. He touched his jacket pocket to make sure his wallet, containing the rubles Miss Robbins had supplied, was still there.
Heads You Win Page 40
