Private Moscow (Private 15)

THE BOMBING OF the Boston Seafood Grill had made the news. According to reports, police hadn’t confirmed a cause and were saying it could have been a gas leak.

“Are you suggesting it was a bomb?” Dinara asked.

“Yes,” Yenen replied. “And Yana Petrova was the target.”

Dinara had never heard of the woman before. “How did you know her?”

“She was a friend.”

Friend. A vague word that could mean anything, Dinara thought. Was this woman a business contact? A lover? A threat?

“What did she do?”

“She was a customer-service agent at Moesk,” Yenen replied.

“The electric company?” Dinara remarked.

Yenen nodded. “You are to find out why she was killed and who did it.”

“The Boston is popular with a lot of influential people,” Dinara said. “How do you know she was the target?”

Yenen’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

“I’m going to have to consult with my superior,” Dinara told him. “We have a—”

The billionaire cut her off dismissively. “You are going to take the investigation. Your business is failing because you are owned by an American. Solve this case and my patronage will change things for you.”

“I need to know—” Dinara began.

Yenen interrupted her again. “I’ve told you everything you’re going to get.”

This was a man who was used to being obeyed, and his high-handedness rankled.

“What about terms?” she asked.

“Call my lawyer,” Yenen replied, handing her a card. “Talk to him about the details. You will find another number on the back.”

Dinara turned the card over to find some hand-scrawled digits.

“That is how you reach me. You, and nobody else.”

Yenen studied Dinara for a moment, before starting toward the parking lot. “Move, Dinara Orlova. You are wasting precious time.” He called to his men. “Hey!”

The guards broke off their conversation with Leonid and hurried to join their boss.

“So?” Leonid asked as he sauntered over.

“One of the richest men in Russia just hired us to investigate the murder of an office worker,” Dinara replied. “How does he even know her?”

“Where did she die?”

“Last night at the Boston Grill,” Dinara said.

Leonid whistled as they watched Yenen and his bodyguards walk down to the three SUVs. “Noisy death,” he observed. “The mark of someone who is confident they won’t be caught, or who isn’t worried about the consequences if they are.”

Dinara nodded. “And how does he know Yana was the target? The police haven’t even confirmed the cause of the explosion, let alone identified a motive, if there is one.”

Yenen and his men climbed into the three vehicles.