Richard Castle: A Raging Storm

Storm removed his own wallet. Unlike Petrov’s, it contained a thick wad of bills.

“Ah, you are lucky,” Petrov said, eyeing the cash.

“Not really,” Storm replied. He extracted one of the bills. “Our wager was British pounds against British pounds and all of my currency is U.S. dollars. It appears as if each of us was trying to trick the other.”

“Touché,” Petrov said. He lifted a third glass of vodka and said, “ Za vstrechi! ”

“It means …” Lebedev said, starting to translate.

Showers interrupted. “To our meet-up.”

“Ah, do you know much Russian, my dear?” Petrov said.

“Just a few words. Enough to be dangerous.”

“Indeed,” Petrov said.

Storm noticed that Nad had not taken a drink. “You don’t like vodka or tea?” he asked. “Perhaps a shot of rakija?”

“Now, that’s a drink that I’m not familiar with,” Lebedev said.

“It’s popular in Croatia, especially in the military,” Petrov said. “Our State Department guest has done his homework.”

“Drinking slows the reactions,” she said.

Petrov said, “My Nad is very, very dedicated.” He glanced at his diamond-studded watch and said, “You have come here to question me about my relationship with Senator Thurston Windslow. At least that is what the BBC reported today.”

He looked at Showers, whose cheeks began to blush.

Continuing, he said, “My lawyer, Mr. Lebedev, has reminded me that I am a British citizen and can claim certain protections as such. But I have nothing to hide, so I am willing to answer your questions.”

“We do have one proviso,” Lebedev announced. “Mr. Petrov’s schedule is extremely hectic today, and as you know, English is not our native language. Therefore, we would like for you to tell us in general what information you require now, and then tonight, perhaps, you could submit your questions in writing? We can reconvene tomorrow.”

As if rehearsed, Petrov chimed in, “I can tell you this. I was not in the United States when this terrible tragedy happened. I also considered Senator Windslow to be a close friend. I had absolutely no reason to wish him or his family harm.”

“I’d like to learn more about your personal relationship,” Showers said. “How often did you get together in Washington? Did you engage in any financial dealings?”

She was being purposely vague. She had no interest in tipping her hand .

“In Moscow,” Petrov said, “we ask direct questions when we want direct replies. You want to know if I paid him a bribe.”

His candor seemed shocking. But was it really? Petrov and his attorney had had plenty of time to plan their defense. Mentioning the bribe was clearly part of their strategy. But to what end?

“There have been rumors,” Showers said, “of a six-million-dollar payment going from your London bank to the Cayman Islands and then to Senator Windslow.”

“We can discuss this tomorrow,” Petrov promised. “However, if that money was withdrawn from my bank, it was not authorized by me.”

“You allow your employees to transfer six million dollars out of the country without telling you?” Storm asked.

Petrov glanced at Lebedev and said, “Only one or two of them. But the point is that I certainly never offered the senator a bribe. We were good friends. And there is no need for good friends to bribe each other. You do favors out of friendship, not for cash.”

Petrov paused and then said, “If you like, I can save you considerable time by exposing the man who committed the crimes of kidnapping and murder in your capital. The man with bloodly hands is Russian president Oleg Barkovsky. He is the villain you should be investigating, not me.”

“Let’s set a time to meet tomorrow,” Lebedev said. “In the morning, Mr. Petrov will be delivering a speech at a student rally in Oxford.”

“You should attend,” Petrov announced. “I will be speaking about the murder of Svetlana Alekseev, the Russian journalist who was found dead in the elevator of her Moscow apartment building last month. She had criticized Barkovsky, and it is common knowledge that he ordered her killed. Just as he had your senator murdered.”

“If you attend,” Lebedev said, “you will see for yourselves how much loved Mr. Petrov is by the British people.”

“Isn’t it a dangerous for you to appear at a public rally,” Storm asked, “considering there have been attempts here in England to kill you?”

“Especially,” Showers added, “since your security detail is not allowed to carry weapons anywhere outside your estate.”

Petrov replied, “I have full confidence in Ms. Nad’s ability to keep me safe. She is an excellent marksman.”

“Besides,” Petrov said, “I’m not going to let that miserable bastard in the Kremlin keep me from speaking about atrocities being committed against my fellow oppressed Russians.” He stood from the table and said, “Thank you for coming this afternoon. I will leave you to work out the arrangements for tomorrow.”

“Before you leave us,” Storm said. “I’d like a word in private with you.”

Showers gave him a surprised and irritated look.

“I’m sorry, but this is impossible. I always include Mr. Lebedev in my private conversations.”

“Then maybe the three of us can step into the main house,” Storm offered. “It’s a State Department matter, not related to the FBI’s investigation.”

“If you insist,” Petrov said.

“Just a minute,” Showers said. “I’m not entirely certain what my colleague has to say, but please know that he doesn’t speak for the FBI or the Justice Department.”

“Thank you,” Petrov said. “This is rather unusual.”

Lebedev fell in behind them as did Nad, leaving Showers alone at the table. She was furious.

“Do you really need a security officer with you?” Storm asked.

Petrov said, “You’re right. I have nothing to fear from our guest. Please keep our FBI friend company in the courtyard.”

As soon as the three men entered the house, Storm removed an envelope from his pocket and offered it to Petrov.

“A mutual friend asked me to give you a personal letter.”

Petrov made no effort to accept it. Instead, he asked cautiously, “And does this friend have a name?”

“Jedidiah.”

“You can give it to Mr. Lebedev,” Petrov said.

“I’d rather give it to you.”

“I will take it,” said Lebedev, reaching up.

Storm flipped it aside, stopping him from snatching it.

“Jedidiah wanted you to take it personally,” he said to Petrov.

The Russian hesitated and then took it from him.

Before Storm could say another word, Petrov turned and started to walk away.

“After you read it,” Storm said. “We can discuss the gold.”

Petrov stopped and looked over his shoulder.

“Perhaps. After I read it. Tomorrow then.”

“Only this time in private — just you and me,” Storm said. “Jedidiah believes you might have a leak in your organization.”

A concerned look appeared on Petrov’s face. “I see, and did he identify this leak for you?”

“Not by name,” Storm said.

Petrov left him and Lebedev alone.

“I’ll show you and Ms. Showers to your car,” Lebedev said, opening the door to the courtyard.

Showers stood and Nad fell in behind as Lebedev guided them through the mansion to their parked rental outside.

“I will telephone you later tonight, Ms. Showers,” Lebedev said. “Perhaps you can fax us your written inquires. Will you be attending the protest in the morning at Oxford?”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

As soon as Storm and Showers were in the Vauxhall, Storm said, “Well, I thought that went just dandy.”