Iris Johansen - Deadlock

"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 those 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."

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."