Private Moscow (Private 15)
Page 67
She stared at me coldly. “Not beyond the headline announcing the death of my old friend,” she said bitterly.
“Ernie Fisher was the chief of staff for the US ambassador to Moscow,” I said.
“No,” Agafiya responded. “That’s not possible.”
She looked to Dinara for confirmation, and my colleague nodded emphatically.
“We’ve got to go to Volkovo,” I said to Dinara. “I need to find out what they were doing there. I have to know who Karl Parker really was.”
CHAPTER 69
GHANI TOOK US back to Fisher’s apartment building where Leonid was waiting. I paid the Afghan cab driver a couple of hundred bucks for his help, and he went away smiling.
“Where to?” Leonid asked.
“Volkovo,” Dinara replied. “Yaroslavl Oblast.”
“Really?” the former cop replied uncertainly.
I nodded. “Karl Parker, Elizabeth Connor and Ernie Fisher were there as teenagers. We need to find out why.”
“OK,” Leonid said. “But it’s a long drive, especially in this weather.”
It wasn’t snowing, but the clouds were bruised and swollen and the air had sharp teeth.
“I’ll call Feo and let him know where he can collect his truck,” Dinara said.
“No,” Leonid responded. “We’ll take it. The heating in my uncle’s Lada still doesn’t work.”
Soon we were inside Feo’s truck with the heating on full as we sped through the city. While Leonid drove, I tried the Parker home in Long Island, but there was no answer. I dialed Justine and she responded almost immediately.
“Everything OK, Jack?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I replied. “How are things there?”
“The Otkrov story has broken and we’re catching some heat. Mainstream media is reporting the allegations, but some of the conspiracy bloggers are having a field day and digging through every high-profile case we’ve ever worked.”
“And our clients?” I asked.
“No one’s said anything,” Justine replied. “At least not yet.”
“No one will,” I remarked. “We’ll just get termination emails from their lawyers if things get too hot.”
“Speaking of heat, NYPD has been leaned on,” Justine revealed. “We’re not getting their cooperation anymore. Rick Tana, the detective in charge, says it’s come from City Hall, a precautionary measure in case Private really is in bed with the Ninety-nine.”
I sighed. “The Ninety-nine probably doesn’t even exist.”
“The lack of cooperation is making Sci and Mo’s lives more difficult, but they’re fighting on,” she said.
“I’ve got another battle for them. I need everything we can find on Karl Parker’s childhood,” I said. “And I want confirmation he never left America as a kid. Same goes for Ernie Fisher and Elizabeth Connor.”
“Why?” Justine asked.
“We’ve found a photograph that puts them in a small town a few hours north of Moscow. It suggests they knew each other as teenagers.”
“Photos can be faked,” she countered.
“This one feels genuine,” I replied. “And we have a witness.”