Iris Johansen - Deadlock

Garrett nodded. "And it would never have reached this level of success without the help of the Russian government. Joslyn's factories are clean, and the workers are treated well. He tries not to damage the environment. The Russians aren't that hot on keeping the environ¬ment green, but they don't mind that Joslyn makes the effort."

Emily leaned back, her gaze on the passing streets of Ekaterinaburg. Her first impression might have been of any large industrial city in the world, but now she could see sights that were pure Russia. Men and women dressed in drab gray and black, an occasional older woman in a babushka, a rare glimpse of a grand church that was almost oriental in splendor amid the practical Soviet-style architecture.

Ten minutes later, Garrett turned into the driveway of a large inn, a neat stone building with evergreens bordering the facade. "Here we are. It's not five-star, but Dardon says the businessmen stay here. That should make it at least tolerable." He parked the car and got out. "Emily, you and Irana go on in and register for all of us. Dardon, Pauley, and I will start unpacking the luggage from the trunk."

"Irana can register. I'll help you." Emily got out of the car. "There don't seem to be any bellmen running out to help."

"Garrett said low profile," Dardon said. "I didn't think you'd want to be in one of the bigger inns close to the site of the massacre. Some of them are tourist traps."

"No, I definitely wouldn't want that." She made a face. "The idea of making money out of tragedy is pretty repulsive."

Dardon nodded. "And the town sure does a good business out of the killing of the Romanovs. Boris Yeltsin tore down the Ipatiev House, where the family was butchered in the cellar. There's a memorial there now. A monastery has been built on the mineshaft where all the bodies were thrown."

Emily shook her head. "Museums and monasteries and memori¬als. Everyone trying to make up for that atrocity."

"Wait long enough, and people eventually come to their senses and abandon evil," Irana said. "But it took a long time for it to happen in this place. It was like the death camps at Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen. Everyone denying that they had anything to do with it or even that it happened at all. Everyone was afraid of the Communist gov¬ernment and didn't even want to talk about the Romanovs."

"But that ended back in the 1980s."

"And then the death scenes became a carnival. When I was here before, couples were getting married and having their pictures taken at the memorial."

"Morbid."

"That was what I thought. I tried to understand, but I didn't have enough compassion." She smiled. "I'm better now, but that came with age and experience." She headed for the entrance of the inn. "I'll go take care of checking in."

Garrett turned to Pauley, who was absorbed in his computer and hadn't moved from the backseat. "What's your progress?"

Pauley looked up from the computer. "Good. I had plenty of time to work. It was a hell of a long trip. I've linked to a language site at a university in Tokyo. They have some amazing technology. If this inn has a printer, I may have something for you by later this evening." He closed up the laptop and got out of the car. "Okay, load me up with suitcases. Though a man of my caliber is wasted on physical labor."

"Live with it." Garrett gave him three suitcases. "Explore a new horizon."

"Whatever." Pauley sounded distracted as he followed Dardon into the inn.

"He's amazing," Emily said. "You dictate what you want, and he pulls it out of that computer."

"The wonder of the Internet." Garrett started the car. "But he is pretty amazing, and he just takes it as a matter of course."

It was a grudging admission, but it demonstrated how far Garrett's attitude toward Pauley had changed.

"We might not have been able to save Irana without him."

"That's true."

"And he was helpful at Babin's place?" "Yes."

"Could I have done what he did?" He nodded.

"Then why the hell wasn't I there instead?" "We've discussed this."

"Yes, and the fact that you're unreasonable and chauvinistic." She glanced away from him at the inn. "And this is the last time I intend to mention it. I do not forgive you for it. But you did treat me as a partner and not a helpless doll when it was Irana at stake."

"And it may have been the most difficult thing I've ever had to do in my life."

"But you did it, and that's the only way you're going to keep from driving me away and doing exactly what you said you wanted to avoid. Understand?"

"Oh, yes, you couldn't be clearer. We'll have to see how it goes."

He wasn't going to commit, she realized. "Yes, we will." She grabbed her duffel. "And I can't say that I can-" She broke off as Garrett's phone rang.

He glanced at the ID. "Ferguson."

He answered and turned up the volume. "Anything more on Joslyn?"

"No, I told you that there was nothing to find out. He's an Eagle Scout." Ferguson paused. "I'm calling about Babin. Did you change your mind about taking him down?"

"What?"

"You heard me. Did you think it might be more convenient to get rid of him permanently? I don't appreciate you making me go to the trouble of assigning a man to watch him if you're-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Babin is dead. Massive heart failure. My agent said he had the at¬tack right before he boarded his flight for Monte Carlo." Emily inhaled sharply.

"I didn't change my mind," Garrett said. "If someone put Babin down, it wasn't me. Have you got the results of the autopsy?"

"No. But we both know how easy it is to induce heart failure if you know what you're doing. A pinprick from a tiny hypodermic nee¬dle, and it's all over."

"I didn't do it, Ferguson. I wanted to keep him alive in case I needed him. Did your man spot anyone suspicious?"

"A possible encounter at the escalator. I've got my agent looking at mug shots."

"Let me know if you find out anything."

"Oh, I will. Count on it." Ferguson hung up.

"Could it have been a natural death?" Emily asked.

"It could be. Anything is possible," Garrett said. "I doubt it. Too coincidental." He took the last of the suitcases and closed the trunk. "But we may not know for a while. Some drugs are so hard to detect that even if the forensic team knows about it, they have to make a zil¬lion tests to confirm."

"You think Joslyn ordered him murdered?"

"As I said, anything is possible."

"Maybe even probable. Staunton told me he sent Borg away to do a job." She remembered something else. "He even mentioned Paris." She shook her head. "Why? Revenge for talking to you?"

"Or to keep him from telling me something else. Or to try to im¬plicate me in his murder. You heard Ferguson. He wasn't pleased with me.

"Yes, I heard him." She thought about it. "But did he believe you? Will he cause you any trouble?"

"He probably believed me. He knows I don't lie. If he thinks he can cause me trouble, he'll do it just because he's pissed at me right now. But he won't do anything that will cause him to lose the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow." He opened the front door for her. "Don't worry about it, Emily. I can handle Ferguson."

"I'm sure you can. There aren't many people you can't handle, are there?" Her lips tightened. "But I will worry. We're in this together. It's my job to worry and you're not going to push me into a corner and tell me to be a good girl and not bother you."

He smiled faintly. "My apologies. By all means worry all you please." He glanced around the lobby. "It appears everyone has scat¬tered. I guess we should pick up our keys and go to our rooms." He paused. "Could I convince you to have dinner with Irana and me? I want to spend some time with her, and she seems not to want any in¬timate time with me yet. It may be a long time before Pauley comes through for us."