‘But it didn’t.’
‘So they beat feet and get the hell out of Dodge. But Kott stays in Paris. He’d prefer to stop the investigation right there. He camps out and watches that balcony, day after day. Or maybe he’s tipped off by the French. You should check. But whichever, finally he gets his chance. Three investigators show up. When he saw me in his scope he must have thought he’d won the lottery. His little heart must have gone pit-a-pat. Then he calmed down and pulled the trigger.’
‘And hit Khenkin by mistake?’
‘Not by mistake. He got me centre mass, a dead-on bull’s-eye, a no-doubter, an Olympic gold medal right there. I was a dead man from the moment he pulled the trigger. But the bullet was in the air nearly four seconds. And there was a gust of wind. I remember seeing it. I remember the muzzle flash, and then the snap of a flag, and then Khenkin got hit. Because the wind moved the bullet. Only about a foot and a half, over sixteen hundred yards. It nudged it just a little, right to left as it flew, from my chest to his head.’
‘You can’t prove that.’
‘I can,’ I said. ‘If it was Datsev aiming at Khenkin, then Bennett would have been killed. He was next in line. You can’t argue with the wind. It was right there. The flags went crazy, and then stopped just as fast. It was gusty all morning. Check it out.’
O’Day was quiet for a spell. Then he said, ‘Two shooters. Jesus.’ Then he said, ‘We have to give this theory to London and Moscow. If we’re all behind it, that is. Rick?’
Shoemaker paused a beat, and nodded.
‘I’m in,’ he said.
‘Joan?’
Scarangello said, ‘Better to think two if it’s really one, than one if it’s really two. We should err on the side of caution.’
O’Day didn’t ask Casey Nice.
I said, ‘I’m going to London now.’
O’Day said, ‘Now?’
‘I don’t mind about the picture in his bedroom. I don’t even mind that the little runt just took a shot at me. That’s an occupational hazard, for a cop. But he was careless and he missed. He shouldn’t have tried on a windy day. He killed an innocent man. That’s different. That was a mistake. And like you said, I caught him once. I can catch him again.’
‘And then what?’
‘I’m going to twist his arm out of his shoulder socket and beat him to death with his own right hand.’
‘Negative,’ O’Day said. ‘You’ll go to London when I tell you to. This is a complex business. Preparations must be made.’
‘You can’t give me orders. I’m a civilian.’
‘Helping his country. Let’s do it right.’
I said nothing.
He said, ‘Khenkin wasn’t an innocent man. He was KGB. He did bad things.’
I said nothing.
He said, ‘I told you so.’
‘Told me what?’
‘It’s not the same with a sniper out there.’
Scarangello asked, ‘Will they work together in London too?’
‘Probably,’ I said. ‘It’s a target-rich environment. It would double their firepower.’
‘So who’s in the frame for the second spot? Carson or Datsev?’
‘I’m not a gambling man.’
‘If you were?’
‘Then Carson. Khenkin said Datsev wouldn’t audition. I didn’t read that as hype. It felt authentic to me.’
‘Wait until we’re ready,’ O’Day said. ‘Then you can go to London.’
TWENTY-ONE
THE CONFERENCE ENDED and I headed downstairs and out the red door, aiming for my corrugated quarters, but Casey Nice caught up to me steps later and said, ‘You want to go get some dinner?’ Which sounded like a fine idea to me. The last hot food I had eaten was the croque madame, in Paris, paid for by Yevgeniy Khenkin himself.
I said, ‘Where?’
‘Off post,’ she said. ‘Barbecue or something.’
‘You have a car?’
‘More or less.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘You’ll see.’
‘Deal,’ I said.
‘I should change,’ she said. She was in a black skirt suit. Dark nylons, good shoes. Perfect for D.C. or Virginia, maybe not so much in a country shack outside of Fayetteville.
I said, ‘I’m happy to wait.’
‘Five minutes,’ she said.
Which turned out closer to ten. But it was worth the delay. She knocked on my door and I opened up and found her in a ponytail and a version of her Arkansas outfit. The same brown leather jacket, over a white T-shirt, with different jeans. Same colour, but lower cut. And all scraped and sanded and beat up. Distressed, I believed they called it, which to me meant upset, which just didn’t compute. Was there a finer place to be, than where those jeans were?