Dangerous Allies (The Ruby Danger Series Book 1) (21 page)

A cheery female voice answered.

“Three Star Water Taxi. How may we help you?”

“I’m calling to confirm a pickup for Mr. Quentin Wade.” Ruby crossed her fingers. “Tonight?”

“I’ll check. Yes. We have it. Eleven o’clock, correct?”

“Yes. And, I’m sorry to bother you,” Ruby chuckled, “but I’m such a noodle-head I forgot to write down the pickup point.” She held her breath.

“Ontario Place. On the far side, at the marina. That’s an odd spot for a pickup,” the woman added in a puzzled tone. “The marina closed for the season last week.”

“Yes, well, my boss is a strange guy. Thanks for your help.” Ruby replaced the handset, chewing her lip. She had the beginnings of a plan. And it might even work. But first, she retrieved Pete’s card from her wallet and dialed his number.

“Pete Osler. Leave a message.”

“It’s Ruby Delaney. I’m willing to come in and tell the police everything. I’ll meet you outside the station, about ten tonight.” She paused. Would that be enough?

“I swear I didn’t kill Hari Bhatt. But I know who did. And I think I know why.”

Charlie sat up and cocked his head to one side. Smiling, Ruby gave him a scratch behind his ear. He had been a welcome addition to life on the road, but he might be in danger if she kept him around. She didn’t want to lose him twice.

“Let’s get you to the airport, Charlie. I know two little girls who will be thrilled to see you.”

The little terrier jumped off the bed, chased his tail in a quick frenzied circle and scampered to the door.

D
imitri slumped
in the chair and tried to focus on Viktor’s blurry face. His left eye was swollen shut and his shoulders and arms throbbed from being tied back for hours. Viktor was speaking, but his words made no sense.

Viktor stepped away. Another shadowy figure moved in, lifting a bucket.

Dimitri squinted at him. Bogdan.

“Fuck you,” Dimitri said, his voice hoarse.

A bucketful of cold water slammed into his face, snapping his head back. He gasped and turned his head to the side, coughing, as water ran off his chin. He tried to wrench his arms free, but his hands were still pinned behind the chair. Shaking water from his hair, he looked up.

Viktor leaned against a table, glaring at him. Bogdan stood beside Viktor with his arms crossed.

As the water cleared from his ears, Dimitri caught strains of
Call Me Irresponsible
drifting into the windowless basement room. Viktor inclined his head at the door and Bogdan closed it. The music stopped.

Viktor walked over, grabbed Dimitri’s hair and yanked him upright.

“Do you have any idea how much money we lost today?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Viktor released him and nodded at Bogdan, who stepped forward and plowed a fist into Dimitri’s solar plexus.

Flames exploded in his chest and shot out along his arms. He gulped for air, unable to breathe, until finally his lungs filled. Gasping, he turned his head to the side and vomited onto the floor.

Viktor bent over him.

“Do you know what happened in the stock market today, Dimitri?”

Squinting up at him, Dimitri shook his head.

“Carvon stock fell through the floor. Two weeks early. Before we had our short sale in place. We lost millions. And why? Because you,” Viktor thumped Dimitri’s head with the back of his hand, “killed someone no one wanted to be dead.”

“I’m sorry—”

Viktor thumped him again.

“Shut up. You were always a problem, from the beginning. You never do as you are told.” Muttering, he shook his head and walked out, leaving a cigar smoldering in an ashtray.

Bogdan leaned over, smiling, and rammed his fist into Dimitri’s upper arm. He followed Viktor out and slammed the door.

Dimitri doubled over in his chair, waiting for the pain to subside.

T
he pain had been worse
on that day twelve years ago when he cradled his arm at his side, turned to Viktor and said, “My arm is broken.”

“Screw your arm. What have you done? Why was there smoke?”

When Dimitri told him, his mentor’s face went white. Viktor stared at him, his fists clenching and unclenching by his side.

“Stay here,” he barked.

Viktor nodded to Bogdan, and the two men stepped outside the derelict stone hut outside Moscow where they fled after Dimitri’s first big assignment had gone so wrong.

Viktor and Bogdan huddled together, talking. Dimitri peered at them through a space he cleared with his thumb on the grimy window. After about half an hour, a car pulled up. The driver lowered his window and Viktor bent his head to talk to him. As the car drove away, Viktor walked to a nearby fence and gazed at the snow-sifted fields of wheat stubble. Then he turned and stomped back to the hut.

Dimitri darted to his chair and sat down.

Viktor walked in and stood in front of him. His voice was cold.

“The man you killed, my niece’s father, that had to be done. But the woman is from people we do not cross. And you left witnesses, too many. So now we have a problem. You are a problem. I am a problem as well because I vouched for you.”

“You told me he would be alone. What could I do?”

Viktor took a cigar from his breast pocket and lit it. He sucked at it, looking away as smoke swirled around his face. He lowered the cigar.

“Bogdan says I should shoot you.”

Dimitri held his breath.

Viktor scratched his chin.

“You have the article?”

Dimitri nodded.

“At least you did that right.” Viktor puffed on the cigar and watched the rising smoke. “When I was your age, the
vor v zakonye
had honor. We were respectful.” He shook his head. “Everything has changed. Now everything is about money.”

He looked at Dimitri.

“You will go to New York and you will take my niece and her brother with you.”

“Will she know?”

“That you killed her father? Of course not.” He cocked his head to the side, studying Dimitri. “I have seen the way she looks at you when you come to the house. And the way you look at her.”

“I do not look at—”

Viktor held up a hand to silence him and nodded at Bogdan.

“We will come later. Meanwhile, you must care for my niece and her brother. Understand?”

Dimitri had nodded, relief flooding over him. It had seemed like the answer to his prayers.

F
ootsteps echoed
in the hall and the door opened. Viktor walked in with Bogdan behind him. Viktor contemplated Dimitri for a long time before he spoke.

“We told you to watch that woman, to keep her from screwing up our plans and yet, somehow, she gets off the ship. With our money.” He raised his hand.

Dimitri cringed and turned his head away.

Viktor lowered his hand.

“But did I punish you? No. Because you are family.” He walked over and picked up the still-smoldering cigar. Leaning against the table, he took a long drag and exhaled. “So, how am I rewarded for my kindness?”

Dimitri said nothing.

“Who told you to kill that man?”

Dimitri tried to focus on the blurry edges of the floor tiles.

“I didn’t—”

“No.” Viktor held up a finger. He stubbed out the cigar. “Say nothing. Because I know you helped Ruby Delaney get off that ship.”

Dimitri’s leg muscles tightened and he swiveled his head to look up.

“I didn’t—”

“Shut up.”

He looked down again.

“Now, why would you do this? She is good-looking woman, I agree. Under other circumstances I might understand. But she had twenty million dollars of our money, Dimitri. And I think you know where that money is now.”

Viktor and Bogdan stared at him.

He shook his head.

“I don’t know where it is.”

Bogdan took a step closer and Dimitri cringed.

“But I can get it.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow.

“You have twenty-four hours.”

A
hollow feeling
grew in the pit of Ruby’s stomach as she watched Charlie’s crate bump along the conveyor belt to a Vancouver-bound plane. She was determined to recover her nieces’ nest egg. But she couldn’t let Antony walk away with five hundred million dollars of shareholders’ money, either. Her plan might be a bit risky, though. A bit? Rolling her eyes, she turned to the exit. Foolhardy would be more accurate.

A steady stream of SUVs, delivery trucks, and massive tractor-trailers surrounded the stolen minivan as Ruby drove into downtown Toronto and swerved onto the expressway that led east to the banking district. On King Street, she turned into the parking garage under the Carvon building. Carvon was listed on the New York Stock Exchange and headquartered in Manhattan, but its largest branch office was right here in Toronto. And according to a news release on the company website, Toronto was where the board had elected to hold this year’s annual meeting.

In two weeks’ time, Carvon shareholders would gather under the crystal chandeliers of the century-old King Edward hotel. Waiters would circulate with silver trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne, unlike most such meetings these days, where the beleaguered shareholders would get plastic-wrapped sandwiches and coffee in cardboard cups. But high-priced snacks were not likely to distract investors who had watched their stock drop over forty percent in two years. And now, after Hari’s disappearance, those shares were almost worthless. The shareholders’ gathering promised to be lively, to say the least.

But Ruby couldn’t afford to wait for the shareholders’ meeting. She was paying Antony a visit right now, in his office. The last place the police, or Dimitri, would think to look for her.

Pulling into an underground parking space, she checked her appearance one more time in the rearview mirror. A brunette wig with bangs that covered her forehead, reading glasses over blue contact lenses, and a tight pencil skirt to draw attention away from her face. It wouldn’t fool Antony, but it would get her in the door. After that, her husband might pick up the phone and call the police. Smiling, she headed for the elevator. Let him try.

On the seventeenth floor, she pushed open the heavy glass door that led into Carvon & Co.’s wood-paneled executive offices. The receptionist behind a granite-topped desk was speaking into her headset. She smiled at Ruby and held up a red lacquered fingernail.

Ruby raised her eyebrows, pointed to the executive offices, and swept around the mahogany wall that shielded the reception area. The receptionist got to her feet, still talking into the headset, but Ruby was already halfway down the hall to Antony’s corner office by then.

She drew up in front of his formidable executive assistant, who wore a navy suit with three-inch heels, a flawless French manicure, and her signature strand of pearls. Ruby would not have fooled Antony’s assistant in Manhattan, but Jackie hadn’t seen her in over a year.

Ruby smiled.

“I’m Mrs. Capstone. I have a four o’clock appointment.”

“I’m sorry,” Jackie said. “You’re not in the book.”

“I made the appointment directly with Mr. Carver. Perhaps he forgot to tell you?”

“One moment, I’ll check.” Jackie nodded crisply at the secretary seated at a desk beside the door to Antony’s office. The secretary flipped the intercom switch.

“Mr. Carver, there’s a woman here to see you. She says she has an appointment, but Jackie says it’s not in the book.”

“Who is it?”

“Mrs. Capstone.”

“Who?”

“Capstone. Mrs. Capstone.”

A pause.

“Show her in,” Antony said.

The secretary ushered Ruby into the office and left, closing the door behind her. Antony stood at the windows, looking out with his hands clasped behind his back. He turned and looked at her. Then he walked to his desk and sat down, leaned back on his leather swivel chair and stretched his arms behind his head.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t pick up this phone and call the cops.”

“I can give you twenty million reasons.”

He brought his arms down and sat up straight.

“What are you talking about?”

“A leather box with twenty million dollars in Cayman bank bonds in it. And a few other items.” She held her breath.

“Where is it?”

“First you have to do something for me.”

Antony gave her an incredulous look.

“I’m doing nothing for you. And you still haven’t given me a reason not to call the cops.” He looked at his watch. “You have five minutes before I have you kicked out and make the call.”

Ruby sat in the chair that faced his desk and crossed her legs.

He glanced at her short skirt and looked away.

“First,” she said, “I know you’re planning to leave the country, and I know where and how. Two, I have your phony passports and I’m betting you haven’t had time to replace them. And three, I have the twenty million meant for the Russian mob.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He picked up a fountain pen and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. “The Russian mob? That’s ridiculous.”

“Really, Antony? We have a lot to discuss and there’s not much time.”

He put down the pen and looked at her.

“What happened to Hari? The police won’t tell me.”

“You know what happened. One of your new friends killed him.”

“One of my—?” He frowned. “What?”

“Your friend in the Russian mob. He was on the Apollonis. The bartender, Dimitri?” Antony looked confused, so she added, “He’s been following me, taking pictures. Stalking me.”

He stared at her, his mouth open.

“But you were sleeping with him.”

“No, I wasn’t. Who told you that?”

“His wife. That night on the boat. She came to our suite.” He paused, his face ashen. “So Hari really is dead?”

“I’m sorry.”

There was a rap on the door and Jackie poked her head into the room.

“Mr. Carver, don’t forget your meeting at four fifteen.”

“Postpone it,” he said, without looking at her. Jackie nodded and closed the door.

Ruby bent closer, her eyebrows knitted, and tried to keep her voice even.

“I know all about the accounting lapses, the revenue losses, the books you and Hari cooked. I know what was supposed to happen at the shareholders’ meeting. In some twisted way, I even understand it.” Drawing a deep breath, she leaned back. “But why did you have to take the girls’ money, Antony?”

He sighed and picked up the pen again.

“You know I had a company before Carvon. In the ’90s.”

“Everybody knows. It’s part of the Antony Carver legend, how you reinvented yourself after your first venture failed.”

“It went belly up in ’97, in the crash. Nothing I could do. All those years of hard work—” He scowled and slapped the pen down. “And those people who used to fawn over me? I couldn’t even get them on the phone. The Street considered Antony Carver a worthless piece of shit.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“No, I’m not. Bait in the shark pool, that was me.” He chuckled and then his face grew cold again. “But I’d done it once, and I knew I could do it again. So I cut a few corners the second time around. So what? Those assholes were taking my calls again. Couldn’t wait to hear from me, in fact.” He gave a slight shrug. “And when the market crashed again, I said, ‘Not this time. Not Carvon.’”

“Fraud, I think that’s called.”

“It didn’t start out that way—”

“Hari told me.”

“What did he tell you?”

“That you’ve been short-selling Carvon stock in other people’s names, including Quentin’s. What I don’t understand is how the mob got involved.”

Antony rubbed a thumb along his eyebrow and sighed.

“Ruby, I had no idea Hari was in danger. Or you, either, for that matter—”

“How did the mob get involved, Antony?”

“A few years back, I went to Kyrgyzstan on a business trip.”

“I remember.”

“It was right around the time our revenues started to drop. The board was on my back. I was supposed to negotiate an oil deal. But when I got there that wasn’t all they wanted. They had assets that needed … handling. They wanted me to do it.”

“Are you talking about money laundering?”

“They already had the money. They only wanted it moved around. I didn’t see the harm. You have to understand. Carvon had cash flow problems. Our stated revenue, that is, the money shareholders thought we were earning, had departed a bit from our actual revenue. We had—”

“Lied,” Ruby said.

Antony scowled.

“—overstated our revenue. It’s an accounting thing. But unfortunately, this occurred at the same time as the market crash. So we had to adjust our revenues to keep the price-earnings ratio in an optimum range—”

“You lied again.”

“—with the result that Carvon developed a cash flow crunch. Which is when I went to Kyrgyzstan—”

“And agreed to launder money for the mob? For heaven’s sake, Antony, what were you thinking?”

He gave her an indignant look and spread his hands.

“I told you. I had no choice. Now the economy has stalled and we can’t make any more revenue adjustments upward without raising red flags. Next week, we have to release our real numbers. They’re not good. And then, it’s over. The whole damn company is going under. I have to get out before that happens.”

“With your take.”

He scowled. “I don’t have a take. I have a little money put aside for a rainy day.”

“Five hundred million dollars? That’s not a little money, Antony. Not to a normal person, anyway.”

“Oh, and what’s your idea of normal? Enlighten me, please. Because you sure as hell thought my money looked good when you married me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“And what about the drinking and the drugs and the carrying on? Were those normal? I just want to know, Ruby. Because I’m not the artistic type like Hari. I’m just trying to earn a living here.”

“Stop it, Antony.”

“I never understood you the way Hari did. I never could measure up. Only Hari—”

“Stop it,” Ruby snapped. “What’s the matter with you? Hari’s dead and it’s your fault. He was your best friend. Don’t you even care?” She looked away to hide her tears. “He told me all about your accounting problems. And he left me the evidence. So if you want the twenty million back—”

“I don’t care about the twenty million.”

“Oh, so you want me to have it.” She turned to face him, sniffling. “That’s sweet, Antony.”

A smile tugged at his lips.

“Okay, you’re right. I do care about the twenty million. At least, the mob cares about it. But I’m not dipping into my nest egg to pay them back. I don’t want them anywhere near my money.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “Anyway, you’re sure as hell not getting it.”

“And your blonde friend? What is she getting?”

“Who?” He stared at her, frowning, and then flicked his hand. “Oh. The passport. She doesn’t mean anything to me. She was a diversion in case I needed one to get across the border, that’s all.”

“That’s a little hard to believe.”

Antony picked up the pen again and rolled it in his fingers. Then he put it down, sighed, and looked at her.

“I wanted to take you with me, you know.”

“To South America?”

He nodded. “Would you have gone?”

“I don’t know.”

They both looked away.

“I have your ring,” Antony said. “You can have it back if you want.”

“Keep it. But don’t give it to the blonde, okay?”

“So, what do you want from me then?”

“I want you to pay the Russian mob their twenty million so they’ll leave me alone. And I want you to clear my name and my brother-in-law’s name,” Ruby took a deep breath, “and Hari’s.”

Antony shook his head.

“Hari wasn’t the Boy Scout you took him for.”

“I know. I want you to clear his name anyway.”

“How do you expect me to do that?”

She pulled a folder from her tote bag and handed it to him.

“This is an affidavit. Sign it.”

He scanned the document and tossed it back to her.

“That won’t prove anything. I’ll be gone by the time the SEC gets it, and it would never hold up in court.”

“Maybe. But it’s the only way I’ll comply. Or, if you prefer, I can walk out, cash the bonds and throw your fake passports in the lake. Your choice.”

With a shrug, he reached for the folder.

“I’m not signing this until you turn over the box and its contents, and my ride out of here is secure.”

“Deal.” She pulled a business card from her bag and placed it on the desk. “Bring the signed affidavit to this address at ten tonight and we’ll make the exchange. In the meantime, call Viktor and tell him you have his money.”

Antony rose to walk her to the door.

She waved a hand. “Don’t bother. I know the way.”

In the doorway, she turned to face him.

“You know, there was a time when I wouldn’t have thought twice about going with you to South America.”

He flashed the crooked grin that had always melted her heart.

“I know.” His grin faded.

Ruby turned and walked out of her husband’s office for the last time.