3 Bad Guys Get Caught (14 page)

Oh, my God! Mila thought. Was Anton
proposing marriage over an empty plate of goulash? A nightmarish vision flashed
before her eyes: she standing at the stove with two rugrats tugging at her
skirt. “Yes, Anton. I will miss you so,” she forced herself to say.

“I’d better get going now.” Anton pushed
back his chair, almost knocking it over.

For a moment Mila worried that she had
overplayed her hand with the goulash, and in a fit of sentimentality, Anton
might drag her to the airport to see him off.

“Be a good girl now,” Anton instructed
her. “I will call you whenever I can.” He grabbed her into his arms and kissed
her roughly, filling her mouth with paprika breath. “I don’t like long
goodbyes. Time for me to go,” he said, pulling himself away from her.

“Goodbye, honey. Come back soon,” Mila
purred, barely keeping the glee out of her voice.

Anton headed into the foyer where his
packed carryon bag stood propped against the wall. “Lock the door behind me and
don’t you let anyone in,” he instructed her as he put on his jacket. In a
matter of minutes he was gone, the front door shutting behind him.

Mila waited until she heard the sound of
Anton’s footsteps recede down the hallway, followed by the faint ring of the
closing elevator door. “Woohoo!” she let out a cry of joy. This was the first
time she would have a few days to herself without Anton telling her what to do,
Anton grabbing her, Anton screwing her. If things went as planned, she would
never have to see the pig again.

***

Mila walked into the bar where she and
Dennis had agreed to meet. He was already seated by the bar stand, waiting for
her. She waved, but he didn’t seem to notice as his back was towards her. Good,
she was going to surprise him. She had selected their meeting place herself. It
was a small bar off the beaten path in SoHo, empty most of the time: just the
kind of place she needed to talk to Dennis about the job she had for him.

“Hello.” She slid into the seat next to
him.

“Hey there.” He jumped up from his
chair.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She smiled brightly at him. “At least that’s not the effect I usually have on
men.”

“Oh, you didn’t. I mean, I wasn’t
frightened.”

She waited for him to finish his
rambling tirade. She was enjoying it a little too much for her own liking.

“It’s great to see you again,” he added,
fumbling with the zipper of his jacket.

“You as well. How was your day?”

“Oh, pretty good. Walked around the
city. It was a nice day for walking.”

“Fall is the only time of the year when
we get nice weather in New York.” Mila could have kicked herself: weather? They
were talking about weather? Since Anton, she thought of herself as being immune
to men, but there was something about Dennis that got to her. Perhaps it was
the fact that unlike most men she met he wasn’t trying to paw or grab, but
treated her with a mixture of respect bordering on aloofness. Or perhaps it was
the way his blue-gray eyes looked at her as though he understood the meaning of
all things that mattered. Then there was the inviting curvature of his lips,
coupled with his strong chin and straight nose; he was not what you’d call
handsome, but he was very cute, and cute was always so difficult to resist.
Focus, Mila thought, you need him to do a job for you, not to do you.

“What would you like to drink?” Dennis
offered. “A Cosmopolitan?”

“Actually, I’ll have a martini with a
lemon twist,” Mila said. She didn’t like Cosmopolitans in the first place, but
she had let Dennis get away with the “guessing her favorite drink” act on the
Metropolitan Museum roof to make him feel better, but now she was no longer
trying to flirt with him. Serious conversation called for a serious drink.

“Sounds like a good choice. I think I’ll
have the same.” Dennis placed the orders with the bartender. “So what do you
have in store for the rest of the night?” he asked.

“I thought we’d just let the night make
up itself. Let’s have drinks first.”

Dennis nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

The bartender placed the drinks before
them.

Mila raised her glass. “Cheers.”

“What are we drinking to?”

“To new friends and to new beginnings.”

If Dennis was unnerved by the husky tone
of her voice, he didn’t show it. “To new friends.” He raised his glass to his
lips, taking a long sip.

Mila eyed him out of the corner of her
eye. Could she trust this man with the task of utmost importance that she
needed him to do for her? The thought was unnerving, but then it wasn’t as
though she had much choice, unless she wanted to marry Anton and turn into a
perpetual maid / babysitter. If only she had had more time to plan this, but
then it wasn’t as though Anton was in the habit of informing her of his plans.
It was mere luck that she had had this little bit of warning to begin with. At
least she wasn’t completely unprepared. With her friend Amy’s help, she had
opened a bank account in a small bank in Ireland. Her plan was to transfer the
money there and let Anton go on a wild goose chase afterwards. His uncle might
have most of the Eastern Europe under his heel, but Mila doubted that Petr
Kovar’s tentacles would stretch as far as Ireland.

Mila placed her glass on the counter.
“So, Dennis, I wanted to tell you why I asked you to meet me here today.”

“I might add that I’m very glad that you
did. I’m sorry for being a little distracted the last time we met. You see, I’m
going through a bit of a rough patch—”

Mila smiled. “You can relax, Dennis. I’m
not here to seduce you. I know all about your sex addiction. I’m all for
staying on the wagon.”

“My sex addiction?”

“Janet told me all about it.”

“Oh, of course. Dear Cousin Janet; I can
always count on her to lend a helping hand,” Dennis sighed.

“You don’t need to be so embarrassed
about it. I looked it up; apparently, it’s become quite a common condition.
Some of the major celebrities are suffering from it, but it is treatable, and
I’m so glad that you’re getting your life back on track.”

“Yes, I’m working through it. Thank you
for your understanding. I’m not used to having my problems out in the open like
this.”

“Well, I’m about to entrust you with a
very important secret, so I feel much better that I know this about you.”

“Oh?”

“May I speak with you in a professional
capacity?”

“Yes, of course. Normally, I would sign
an agreement beforehand, but I believe that we can set the formalities aside
for now.”

“Good. I don’t like formalities. So
Dennis, you told me that you’re good with computers and safes and things like
that, and I was wondering if you could help me with a little assignment.”

“I’m listening.”

“I should probably ask you your rate
first.”

“That depends on the job, but since
you’re a friend of my cousin’s, I’ll cap it at fifty dollars per hour plus
expenses.”

“That sounds reasonable.”

“So what’s the job?”

“A little time ago I came into some
inheritance from my grandmother. There were some issues with transferring the
money here, and let’s just say that right now I don’t have it in my possession.
It’s in someone else’s account, and I need you to do two things: break into the
safe where the bank token is kept and then hack into the bank account.”

Dennis whistled. “To be frank, this
isn’t really up my alley.”

Mila’s face fell. “You said that you
were good with computers and safes.”

“I am, but usually I don’t “hack” into
computers to steal money.”

“This isn’t stealing! That money belongs
to me.”

Dennis took a swallow of his martini.
“You’ll have to give me a little bit more information than that.”

“Then you’ll agree to do the job?”

“I can’t promise you that until I hear
the whole story, but you’re free to look elsewhere.”

Damn it, Mila thought. Dennis was turning
out to be quite a hustler, pressing her like that. It wasn’t as though she had
much of a choice, and he had probably sensed that. “Like I said, it’s an
inheritance from my grandmother. I didn’t want to pay estate taxes—”

“Estate taxes? How much money are we
talking about here?”

“Over a million dollars.”

Dennis whistled. “Perhaps I should
adjust my fee.”

“Perhaps you should stop giving me lip
and listen,” Mila snapped. “I don’t see clients lining up for your services.
This is an easy way for you to make a few bucks. I’ll double your fee to one
hundred dollars per hour, but that’s it. Now are you going to do the job or
what?”

“All right, lady, you drive a tough
bargain. I’m in. Now tell me exactly what you need me to do.”

“It’s quite simple, really. The person
who currently has the money in his account is my,” Mila halted, at a loss of
how to characterize her relationship with Anton.

“Boyfriend?” Dennis suggested.

“How do you know that?”

“Janet mentioned that you’re seeing this
guy Anton at work, so I put two and two together.”

The word boyfriend turned her stomach
when used in connected with Anton, but Mila nodded. “Yes, my boyfriend. We’re
living together, and he’s away for the next three days. I’d like to do it
tomorrow in case he comes back early.”

“Can we do it the day after tomorrow?”

“Why? Is your schedule packed with other
engagements? Or are you too busy walking around the city, clearing your head?”

“Ouch. No, because I’d like some time to
prepare, to make sure I have everything in order. I’ll need you to get me
additional information.”

“I have all the information.”

“All right, then can you tell me the
model and serial number of the safe?”

Mila stared back at him; she had no
idea. It pissed her off to admit that Dennis was right, but maybe they did need
more time to prepare. “I can get that for you. What else?”

“What bank is his account with? It would
speed things up if I had that information in advance. Every bank has its own
firewall quirks. A little preparation would be helpful.”

“It’s Avion Credit; it’s a small Czech
bank.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them,
but I’ll do my homework.”

“Fine. Anything else?”

“I think it’s plenty for now.”

“So are we all set for the day after
tomorrow?”

“Yes. I’ll be there at eight p.m.,
sharp. Now all I need is the address.”

Mila slipped Dennis a piece of paper.
“Here, I even wrote it down for you. Make sure not to lose it.”

“Hey, how about some professional
courtesy? You’re the one who approached me.”

“I’m sorry.” Mila looked away. “It’s
just that I’m very nervous, and I tend to get very abrupt when I’m nervous. I
guess it’s an insecurity of mine.”

“You don’t say.” Dennis extended his
hand to Mila. “Well, Miss Mila, it looks like we’re in business. Please be sure
to bring my payment of ten thousand dollars in cash tomorrow.”

“Ten thousand dollars? Where did that
come from?”

“Let’s see, the agreed upon rate is two
hundred dollars per hour plus expenses.”

“Two hundred dollars? We agreed on one
hundred!”

“I had to adjust the rate due to the
risks involved.”

“Fine. I still don’t see how it adds up
to ten grand.”

“Since I didn’t plan for an employment
opportunity during my trip, I didn’t bring my kit with me, so I’ll have to buy
a new one—”

“A kit? What kind of kit?”

“Lady, if you think that I can open a
safe with my bare hands, you’re mistaken. There are tools of the trade that I
use, and I’ll need to buy those tools. Plus the hours spent on the research and
the actual job, so yes, ten thousand dollars.”

“You’re robbing me blind!”

“No I’m not. I’m offering you my services,
but you’re free not to use them.”

“I don’t have ten thousand in cash. Will
you take a thousand in cash and the rest as a wire transfer?”

“I prefer cash, but fine, for you, I’ll
make an exception.”

“Why, thank you! You’re ever so kind.”

“I aim to please.” Dennis finished his
drink. “Well, Miss Mila, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way. I’ve got a lot
of work to do. The sooner you can get me that safe model number, the better.”

“I’ll text it to you tonight.”

Usually Janet’s shifts at Panther flew
by in a frenzy of capricious customers, complicated menu entrees, and special
drink requests, but tonight, despite it being extremely busy, the time dragged.
She knew the reason well enough; as she ran from table to table, the only thing
she could think of was what Dennis and Mila were up to this very moment. He was
seeing Mila again tonight, and Janet couldn’t get her mind off of it.
Irrational, she admitted it, but that didn’t make it any easier. Sure, she
could’ve told Dennis to drop the Mila thread, but she didn’t want to seem
insecure. Instead, she chose to obsess about it in silence.

“Hello, Janet,” Roman’s voice caught her
off guard, literally making her shudder. “Careful there, you’ve been sneaking
by me all night, but I finally found you.” Roman was standing so close to her
that Janet felt his breath on her neck.

“Yes, well, I have to get to my tables,
so—”

“I told one of the girls to replace you.
I need you to come and help me with hosting.”

“All right.” Janet followed Roman
meekly, wishing he would just buzz off. There were plenty of waitresses way
more qualified for the job, and she suspected that Roman had summoned her so
that he could make passes at her all night. She couldn’t possibly fathom the reason
for his unrelenting persistence; as Mila had said, compared to the rest of the
girls working at Panther who were a ten, Janet was a seven. Roman, however,
seemed to disagree, not that his attention was flattering in any way.

“Be sure to smile that pretty smile of
yours,” Roman instructed her, standing way too close. “The customers will love
it.”

Janet inched away from him. Tonight he
was wearing an even heavier dose of cologne than usual, making her wish for a
gasmask. “Good evening, welcome to Panther,” she greeted the arriving guests.
Just then, she felt Roman’s hand graze her behind. At first she thought it was
just her imagination, but the second touch confirmed that her suspicions were
real. She could sense Roman leering at her. It took all of her willpower to
maintain a calm demeanor and escort the newly arrived party to their table.

“Table five is all yours, Clarisse,”
Janet said to one of the waitresses.

“Thanks, Janet. I sure hope they’re good
tippers. Table four just gypped me.”

“Believe me, I’d gladly switch places
with you,” Janet sighed.

“Roman has you hosting with him, huh?”

“Yep. Apparently being groped is part of
the job description.”

Clarisse’s eyes narrowed. “I hate that
creep. Sometimes I fantasize about cutting off his balls.”

“Yikes! He’s not that bad.”

“I said I only fantasize,” Clarisse
giggled. “I’ve got to get to my table. Hang in there.” Clarisse sauntered off.

Janet felt a storm fuming inside her. It
was bad enough that she had to spend hours on her feet, enduring snide comments
from moody customers, now she was being groped by some nincompoop whose only
claim to fame was a rich uncle with a shady reputation? She had had enough.

When she got to the hostess stand, she
smiled sweetly at Roman.

“So how do you like hosting with me?” Roman
asked, his tone making it clear that he was not referring to the job at hand.

Janet batted her eyelashes, as she moved
in closer to Roman and slid her hand over his crotch.

“Wow, Janet, we’ve got a job to do here.
Can you wait till closing time? I promise to attend to all your needs then.”

“Listen to me, you pathetic excuse of a
man,” Janet whispered into his ear as she curled her fingers around his balls,
“if you as much as brush against me again, I’ll chop those boys right off, got
that?” Overcoming her revulsion, she tightened her grasp as a warning.

Roman paled. “Take it easy, Janet. I was
just playing around,” he gasped. “I didn’t mean any harm.”

“Neither did I,” she replied sweetly,
“just a fair disclosure.”

Janet turned to greet the next arriving customer.
What she saw next literally made her jaw drop. Julius Libby and his wife had
just walked into the restaurant and were the next couple in queue. Somehow
Janet managed to greet the couple before them, as her brain was busy figuring
out a way for her to get assigned to Libby’s table.

“Good evening and welcome to Panther,”
she greeted Libby and his wife.

“Good evening,” Libby replied easily. He
was dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, crisp white shirt and a dark navy tie.
Conservative, but very sharp. “We don’t have a reservation, but I was hoping
there might be a table? It’s our anniversary.”

“We will need to see if there are any
cancellations—” Roman began haughtily.

“Of course,” Janet cut him off. Roman
merely stared back at her. Although visibly annoyed, he was still too shaken to
voice his displeasure with her taking over the reins. “Please, allow me to show
you to your table,” Janet said.

“Thanks so much.” Libby nodded and held
out his arm to his wife. She smiled and hooked her arm through his. She was
wearing a black sheath of an expensive designer cut and black pumps; her hair
was gathered in a low bun at the nape of her neck. The clothes fit her
immaculately, but somehow she seemed awkward in them, as though she would much
rather be wearing a pair of jeans and a tank top.

Janet escorted Libby and his wife to the
table that she had selected for them: the best table in the house. The client
who had reserved it would just have to make do with the second best table in
the house.

“Here are the menus and our wine list. I
will be right back to take your drink order.” Janet flashed her most customer
friendly smile at Libby and his wife before heading back to the hostess
station.

“What in the hell was that?” Roman
snarled at her when she got back. “You just gave away the best table in the
restaurant. That table was reserved. What are we going to say to the customer
who reserved it?”

“You will tell him to suck it up,” Janet
replied unflinchingly.

“What?” Roman’s eyes bulged out of their
sockets. “You little— Who the hell do you think you are? I call the shots
here.”

“That may very well be the case, but I
don’t think your older brother or your uncle, for that matter, would be too
pleased to learn that you almost refused a table to Councilman Libby. Not such
a bright idea to get on his bad side, or this restaurant just might not pass
its next sanitation inspection.”

Roman looked like he had literally
swallowed his own tongue.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and check
on Mr. Libby.” Janet bowed slightly and headed back to Libby’s table.

“May I get you anything to drink?” Janet
asked.

“Yes, a bottle of Veuve Clicquot,” Libby
instructed.

“Of course,” Janet replied, surprised by
Libby’s choice. She had expected Libby to opt for Dom Perignon or Perrier
Jouet, but apparently he was too smart to be that obvious.

“I believe we’re ready to order,” Libby
said.

“Of course. Would you like to hear the
specials?”

“That’s all right,” Libby’s wife spoke
for the first time. “No need to put you through the trouble, as we’ve already
decided.”

“My wife and I will both have the
lobster bisque, followed by the duck for my wife and the steak for me,” said
Libby. “We’ll take two glasses of your house red wine with the second course.”

“For dessert we’ll have chocolate
soufflé,” Mrs. Libby added. “My husband tells me that you have to order it in
advance.”

“Yes, I apologize for not mentioning
this earlier. Thank you very much. Please let me know if you need anything
else. Enjoy your evening.” Janet took her leave.

Normally, it was the sommelier’s job to
deliver the wine and the champagne, but Janet intended to take over this task
for Libby’s table. She knew just the man who could help her with that: Jason.

“Jason, do you have a bottle of Veuve
Clicquot back there?” she asked the bartender.

Jason nodded. “Sure. Did someone request
a glass of bubbly?”

“Not a glass, the whole bottle.”

“Oh, that’s the sommelier’s department,”
Jason pinched his nose as he spoke, his eyes twinkling. “High time that
overpaid snob got off his butt. Let him go down to the wine cellar and bring up
a bottle. I need my stash for the bar.”

“I can’t find him,” Janet lied, praying
that the poor schmuck wasn’t going to walk by this very moment. “It’s for a
really important customer, and I don’t want to keep him waiting. Please?”

“All right. Only for you, Janet.” Jason
opened the fridge and placed the bottle on the bar. “Have you opened a
champagne bottle before?”

“Of course,” Janet lied. She had never
opened a bottle in her life; the only time she drank champagne was with Dennis,
and he always did the honors. “I’ll be fine.”

Jason eyed her dubiously. “Here, take
this.” He handed her a napkin. “Wrap it around the bottle just in case.”

“Thanks.” Janet grabbed the bottle and
rushed to Libby’s table.

“Here we are.” She smiled at Libby.

“Wonderful.” Libby nodded magnanimously,
patting his wife’s hand.

“Just a moment, please.” Janet fumbled
with the foil wrapping. She gripped the cork with her fingers, praying to God
it wasn’t going to shoot into the ceiling, right into the crystal chandelier
that hung smack in the middle of it. She tugged with all her might. There was a
sharp pop. She shuddered involuntarily and was relieved to see that the cork
was still in her fingers and the bottle wasn’t fizzing over.

“Wonderful!” Libby’s wife clapped with
delight.

“Thank you.” Janet poured the champagne
along the walls of the glasses so that it wouldn’t topple over. “Your first
course should be out shortly.” She bowed and took her leave.

Once back at the waitress station, Janet
stood just outside of the entrance. There was a side view of Libby’s table, and
she wasn’t going to let her eyes off of him for a minute. She even told the
busboy that she’d serve the table herself.

“Janet, it looks like Roman messed up
the tables again,” Clarisse’s voice startled her.

“What’s the mix up?” Janet asked.

“He gave away the best table to a
walk-in and he had you serve it. That table was reserved for a regular and I
was assigned to it; he’s a great tipper.”

“Sorry, Clarisse. That walk-in is some
big shot, and Roman told me to take care of him. I’ll split the tips with you.”

“That’s okay. I’m not Mila. You can keep
your tips, but Roman is a jerk.”

“No argument there.”

Janet went over to Libby’s table. “Are you
enjoying your first course?” she asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Libby’s wife nodded.
“The lobster bisque is delightful.”

“Is there anything else I could get you
at the moment?” Janet asked, politeness itself.

“We’ll call you if we need you,” Libby’s
tone was polite, but brusque, and Janet got the hint. Libby wanted some
privacy. How she wished she had one of those bugging devices to eavesdrop on
Libby’s conversation, but neither she nor Dennis had thought of that
beforehand.

Libby turned out to be a very ordinary
customer. He and his wife ate their meal, paid the check, and left. It wasn’t
an exorbitant bill either; the meal wasn’t cheap by any means, but it certainly
didn’t include caviar or smoked sturgeon or any other exotic delicacies that
Panther offered. Other than carrying his dirty dishes, Janet hadn’t gotten any
closer to Libby. Oh, there was one thing she’d learned about him tonight: Libby
was a cheap tipper; he had left out the liquor when calculating the tip, which
was a theoretically acceptable, but not a widely exercised practice.

Another wasted day; Janet wondered if
Dennis had fared any better—at least his undercover stint didn’t involve
carrying dirty dishes. Just then Janet saw Roman walking towards her and cursed
under her breath. She tried to slink away downstairs, but he called her name
and she had no choice but to stay.

“Janet,” he repeated. “I wanted to thank
you.”

That was a first. Janet stared at him,
wondering what had gotten into him.

“I looked up Libby on Google, and he’s a
big shot. There are even rumors about him running for senate. Good thing you
knew who he was.”

“Oh, I just remembered his face from the
papers. I have a good memory for faces.”

“A very useful skill to have in this
business. I’m thinking I’ll have you switch places with Mila.”

“I wouldn’t want to do that. I like
waitressing,” said Janet. Last thing she needed was to alienate Mila by taking
over her job. Even if Mila had complained about the tips being smaller in
hosting, Janet was sure Mila would be pissed if she took over her job.

“All right, if you say so, but think
about it. Good night.”

***