Savich nodded. “Of course there isn’t. It’s a near-perfect legend created for Sergei Petrov’s bodyguard and longtime lover, Elena Orlov. Are you ready to tell me your side of it now, Mr. Hainny? Ready to tell me the truth?”
Hainny poured himself more whiskey, then walked slowly, like an old man, to the dark brown sofa. He sat down, motioned Savich to sit beside him. He said nothing for a very long time. He sipped at his whiskey, raised the glass to study it. “This is Glenfiddich, not the most expensive, but it’s my favorite. My father introduced me to it on my eighteenth birthday, as I did Saxon.” He laughed. “Saxon hates it.” He paused, rolled the glass around between his palms. “Petrov called me the day after Mia Prevost was murdered, told me he’d done me a favor and taken away all the evidence that Saxon had murdered Mia Prevost from her apartment, as you said, more than enough to send Saxon to prison for life. He sent me photographs of the bloody shirt and T-shirt, the letters, and the knife. He said he’d hide them from the police if I cooperated with him—that was the word he used, cooperated. I asked him what he wanted and he told me what he wanted wasn’t beyond someone in my position, someone with my abilities and reach. He even assured me it was nothing treasonous. He was going to ask me to do only what was necessary to keep my beloved son from prison. And now he was sure I had the motivation I needed.” Hainny fell silent.
Savich waited for him to continue, but he didn’t, merely rolled the glass of whiskey in his palms. “Mr. Hainny, we know his father, Boris Petrov, and his Transvolga investment firm were sanctioned by presidential executive order and lost hundreds of millions of dollars, and that most of what was left was frozen. That’s what he wanted of you, wasn’t it? To arrange to overturn that order, and, in return, he would give you the evidence against Saxon, the evidence in this box.”
Hainny drew a deep breath. “I don’t know how you found out about it, and so quickly, but yes, that’s what he wanted. As you know, these sanctions were retaliation for the Russian invasion of Crimea and the Ukraine. They worked admirably. Not only did they cause great damage to the Russian economy, they drained billions of dollars, bringing capital investment to a standstill. Of course, the sanctions levied against specific individuals, their banks and financial assets, were designed to hit Putin directly in his pocketbook, to pressure him to withdraw from Crimea and the Ukraine. Will Putin withdraw? Or at least keep a lid on the hostilities?” Hainny shrugged. “Things are very bad in Russia but only time will tell.
“When Petrov told me he wanted the sanctions removed from his father and the Transvolga Group, that he wanted billions of dollars unfrozen, I told him I didn’t have that power, he should have picked a ranking official in the Treasury Department. They were the ones who set the sanctions, they would be the ones to remove them. And technically, that’s true. But he laughed at me. He said my talents are well-known and that I had one week to make progress on lifting the sanctions or my son would find himself on trial for murder.”
He fell silent again, then said in surprise, “Petrov is Russian, but do you know, he’s perfectly fluent, speaks with a British accent? And now he’s dead.” He raised his whiskey and toasted Savich. “Will you tell me what happened?”
“When FBI agents went to his home to arrest him, he and another man opened fire. They were both killed. Mr. Hainny, you said Petrov gave you a week. You could have called us then, but you didn’t. Did you arrange anything on Petrov’s behalf?”
“No, I didn’t consider that an option at first. Actually he called me a couple of days later for a progress report and I lied to him, told him I’d spoken to the undersecretary for financial intelligence, that a review was under way, but it would take more time. I believed I could handle the—situation—myself and I almost succeeded, until everything went sideways.” He drew a deep breath. “But of course you already know what happened.”
Savich said, “You acted, you hired Manta Ray to steal the safe-deposit box from the Second National Bank of Alexandria. How did you know the evidence against Saxon was there?”
“Petrov would have preferred to stay anonymous, but of course he couldn’t, he had to give me his father’s name and the name of his firm if I was going to act on the sanctions. It was easy for me to find out that Petrov’s son was in the United States. The father couldn’t be, naturally, since the sanctions banned him from traveling here or to Europe.”
Hainny rolled the whiskey glass around between his palms out of habit. “I realized Mia Prevost had been working for Petrov, that it had all been a setup. I decided I wouldn’t tell Saxon. I’m a man with considerable power, Agent Savich, and I used some of it to neutralize this man. I knew he wouldn’t have the items at his house, he’d have to know I could locate that quickly enough, and of course I did. He has no ties to the Russian Embassy, so he couldn’t use their premises to hide the blackmail items.
“I decided a bank deposit box was an intelligent choice, perhaps one it would be hard to trace to him. But if so, which bank? I had an analyst whose name I cannot tell you investigate Sergei Petrov, his activities, his connections. He found Elena Orlov for me quickly, Petrov’s closest contact. He even unearthed the name Cortina Alvarez, the alias she uses when it suits her. A search of her bank records showed me she had opened a safe-deposit box at her bank, the Second National Bank of Alexandria, the day after Mia Prevost was murdered. I didn’t know for sure, but that safe-deposit box seemed the only way forward.
“I hired Liam Hennessey through an intermediary, an acquaintance from twenty years back, a man far enough removed so he wouldn’t be linked to me. I paid him fifty thousand dollars to remove Cortina Alvarez’s safe-deposit box and five other boxes around it, to confuse the issue. That’s when it all went sideways.
“As you know, Hennessey’s partner—a man he hired without telling my intermediary—killed a bank teller, and Hennessey got himself shot and ended up caught in a deserted warehouse in Alexandria. It was a tragedy, that poor woman murdered, and it was my fault, I was culpable.” He raised incredibly weary eyes to Savich’s face. “I was prepared to admit everything to President Gilbert when the FBI reported they couldn’t find the contents of the safe-deposit boxes, that somehow Liam Hennessey, even grievously wounded, had managed to hide them before the FBI found him. Perhaps if he’d died or didn’t tell them, there was still a chance for Saxon.” He gave a laugh. “And for me.”
“When Hennessey survived, I didn’t dare contact him to arrange a deal for th
e whereabouts of Cortina Alvarez’s safe-deposit box. I would have had to borrow a great deal of money, and it might have exposed me. When it came down to it, it didn’t matter because Petrov outbid me. I’m sure he offered this criminal more than I ever could have, and he managed to pull off an amazing escape for him.
“You’re right about Petrov calling me today. He said I had cost him a great deal of trouble and money, but no more. He gave me seventy-two hours to get the sanctions lifted from his father and the Transvolga Group or he would give all the evidence against Saxon to the police. He told me I’d end up in jail also, next to my son. I was a murderer, after all. Petrov has—had—a very ugly laugh.
“I will be honest with you, Agent Savich. I hadn’t decided what I would do tomorrow. I like to think I would have confessed all of it to the president, but it was tempting to try to get those sanctions lifted from Petrov Senior and his company. And now you’ve made that moot.
“I cannot tell you how very sorry I am that bank teller was killed. I never intended—” He shook his head. “I know that I am legally guilty of murder, I know I have lost everything, my position with the president, my freedom. If you will allow me, Agent Savich, I would like to tell President Gilbert in the morning.”
Savich nodded.
“What will you do with the box?”
“I’ve given it a lot of thought, Mr. Hainny. The man who murdered Mia Prevost is dead, so he can’t be prosecuted for that crime. I would prefer to destroy it, put all of this mess as far behind Saxon as I can, but if you are brought to trial for your part in the murder of that bank teller, then it would be considered evidence. I intend to keep the box until a determination is made about your future. I will not tell Detective Raven about the plot against you, or about the box. The murder of Mia Prevost will officially remain unsolved, I see no way around that. In the end, she did have justice. I will explain what happened to Saxon, if you would like me to.”
“I will speak to Saxon. I’m his father. He’ll hate me, Agent Savich, and who could blame him? I lied to him and left him nothing but my shame to face.”
A tear slowly fell down his cheek. “At least my son will be safe.”
“Mr. Hainny, don’t underestimate your son. He might choose to stand with you.”
Savich rose and walked to the study door, turned and asked, “Could you have gotten those sanctions lifted?”
Hainny laughed. “Very probably. You wouldn’t believe what I can get done in this town.”
61
SAVICH HOUSE
GEORGETOWN