Michael Walters - The Shadow Walker

Collins shook his head and laughed. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m being a discourteous asshole. This country’s okay. Not exactly Dallas, but okay.”

“What made you decide to visit our country, Mr. Collins?”

He shrugged. “I travel a lot. Europe. Middle East. Far East. You name it. I enjoy traveling. Business or pleasure. I like going to interesting places. This is an interesting place.”

“For a craphole, you mean?” Drew said.

“Hey, buddy, I was out of line. I apologized. Enough already.”

“Of course,” Nergui said. “I take no offense. You leave here tomorrow?”

Collins nodded. “Back up to Ulan Baatar, then into the north for a few days.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it all. Forgive me, but you do not strike me as the type who would normally be undertaking an organized tour of this kind?”

Collins signaled to the barman for another beer. “Spot on, buddy,” he said. “But I wanted to see the place, and this was the only way to do it.”

Nergui nodded. “It is still not easy to be an independent traveler here.”

“Nope. I prefer to make my own way, usually, but I was advised against it.” Collins seemed slightly more sober now, though he was still drinking the beer at a fast rate. “They told me it would make it harder to see the rest of the country.”

“That is probably true. It is not so difficult now as it was. But we do not tend to make it easy for people to travel on their own.”

“When do you cops ever make anything easy?”

“Well, that is not our job, Mr. Collins.” Nergui smiled. “Your companion from this afternoon. He is not here this evening?”

Collins seemed to hesitate, though only for a moment. “Nah, he’s gone off to bed early. Had a headache. Probably all that intensive questioning you put us through.”

“We did not manage to extract very much from your companion,” Nergui said. “He is a friend of yours?”

“No, met him on the trip. We get along pretty well, though. Drinking buddies. Not sure why he came along with me, but he happened to be with me when your friend”-He gestured toward Batkhuyag behind the bar-“asked me to join you.”

“You never did tell us your line of business, Mr. Collins,” Nergui said.

“No, I never did, did I?” Collins said. “And I wonder why you’re interested.”

“Just making idle conversation, Mr. Collins.”

“In my experience cops never just make idle conversation.”

“You seem to have a lot of experience,” Drew said.

Collins laughed. “Yeah, too much experience not to be careful what I say to the likes of you.”

“You are very astute, Mr. Collins,” Nergui agreed. “I suppose that is necessary in the minerals business.”

Drew tried hard to conceal his surprise. Collins’s surprise, though, was obvious. “Jeez. Who the fuck told you that?” The belligerence was still there, but it was undercut now with a new hesitation. For the first time, Drew thought, Collins wasn’t quite sure of his ground.

Nergui shrugged. “It is my job to know such things, Mr. Collins.”

“I thought you bastards had put the KGB days behind you. What have you being doing, bugging my ger ?”

“Nothing so crude, Mr. Collins. Your occupation was stated on your visa application. I thought it wise to make a few standard checks.”

“Did you?” Collins said. “And what else did these-standard checks tell you?”

“Nothing to trouble you, I think, Mr. Collins.”

Collins leaned back against the bar and took another deep swallow of his beer. His eyes were darting around the room now, as if he were looking for someone to come to his aid. Behind them, the hubbub of conversation was growing louder.

Nergui was sipping his own beer very slowly. He smiled at Collins and then at Drew, who was watching all this with some fascination. He wasn’t sure whether he should feel offended that Nergui had not chosen to share this information with him. “I hope I was not being intrusive, Mr. Collins. I made only the briefest of checks, looking at material in the public domain. But such things are always interesting.”

Collins said nothing. He had drained his beer glass, and was clutching it in his hand like a lifeline. Drew wondered whether Nergui really had anything incriminating on Collins. He suspected not, but the fact that Collins was reacting in this way was telling enough.

“For example,” Nergui went on, “you obviously know that your friend-your acquaintance from this afternoon-Mr. Maxon, I believe-also works in the minerals industry. And also lives in Texas, though in Houston. No wonder you get on so well. You must have a lot in common.”

Collins shrugged, still watching Nergui closely. “We’ve barely talked about work,” he said. “Don’t think we’re really in the same field. But I don’t see it’s any of your business.”

“No, you are right. It is not.” Nergui paused, as though thinking over the ethical implications of this. “It is, in part, my business to be aware of who is entering our country, and to understand why they are here.”

“I’m a goddamn tourist, for Christ’s sake,” Collins said. “I’m here on vacation. What else?”

“I am not aware of anything else,” Nergui said. “Unless you wish to tell me differently.”

“Jesus, you people.” Collins staggered backward, as though the impact of the alcohol had suddenly overwhelmed him again. “You’ll never change.”

“How is that, Mr. Collins?” Nergui continued to sip on his beer, smiling.

Collins slumped against the bar. He looked up at the barman who, without being asked, placed another beer by his side. Drew wondered at what point they ought to suggest that Collins had had enough. It was difficult to be sure-his drunkenness seemed to ebb and flow with his moods. But his speech was definitely becoming more slurred now. “I don’t know what the fuck it is with you people,” he went on. “You have the chance to make something of this dump, but you want to keep control. You want to have it all your way. You’ll go to any lengths to stop real money being made. You’re all still bastard communists under the skin.”

“I’m not sure I really follow, Mr. Collins,” Nergui said, softly.

“Oh, you understand well enough,” Collins said. “Bastard communist.”

Nergui opened his mouth to respond, but a voice from behind them interjected. “Jesus, Jack. You had too much already?”

Maxon had appeared behind them, unnoticed. He was still wearing the dark glasses, even inside at night. With his eyes hidden it was impossible to read his expression, but there was the same thin smile on his lips. “I apologize, gentlemen. Jack can become a tad-aggressive when he’s had a little too much.”

It was the first time they had heard him speak, Drew realized. His voice was soft, emollient, the intonation of a salesman used to dealing with difficult customers.

“Do not worry,” Nergui said. “Simply an exchange of views.”

Maxon’s smile was unwavering. “I’ve told Jack before. It’s never a good idea to exchange views too forcefully.” He paused. “Especially with the police.”

“Wise advice,” Nergui said.

“I think I’d better help get Jack to bed,” Maxon said.

“Jeez, I’m okay,” Collins said, waving Maxon away, but stumbling noticeably as he did so. “Fine for a few more yet.”

“I don’t think so, Jack,” Maxon said. The words had the force of a command, rather than an expression of opinion.

Collins stared at Maxon, and for a moment Drew thought the aggression was going to return. Then Collins shrugged. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Been a long day.”

He thumped his now empty glass down on the bar and started to make his unsteady way toward the entrance, Maxon turning to follow him.