5 Deal Killer by Vicki Doudera Page A

just that … Well, Natalia is very upset. If she knew about our conversation …”
    As if on cue, the elevator doors opened and Natalia emerged, trailed by Sergei who wore his usual dark expression.
    The girl’s eyes locked on them. “Miranda?” Her gaze glided from the dog walker to Mikhail. “I didn’t realize you knew my father.”
    Miranda swooped toward the girl, wrapping her in a hug. “Honey, I have just heard about Alec. I am so, so sorry.”
    Natalia nodded numbly. “It’s awful.” She swayed a little on her feet as Miranda released her hold “Papa …”
    Mikhail moved swiftly to his daughter’s side. He pulled her tightly toward him and closed his eyes. She was crying, big, gulping sobs, while he stroked her streaked hair.
    Miranda flicked the leashes and the dogs trotted obediently to the elevator. Korbut would have to miss his walk today. She pushed the button, got in, and descended without a word.

four
    “YOU ARE NEXT,” mused Miles, remembering the words spelled out on the threatening letter to Natalia Kazakova. He pulled on a tweed jacket and pocketed the apartment’s keys. “I can’t say that I like the idea that Alec Rodin’s killer is after Nat.”
    “Perhaps,” said Darby. “I agree that whoever wrote the note knows about Alec’s death, and the relationship between Alec and Natalia. Whether the author of that letter is the actual murderer—I’m not sure.” She slung a small purse over her shoulder.
    “I think she’s in danger, but she didn’t seem keen to follow our advice and go to the police, did she?”
    “No, Miles, she didn’t. Truthfully, I’ll be surprised if she tells them.”
    “Sergei and Natalia’s handling of that paper means they’ve destroyed any evidence—fingerprints, you name it.”
    “If there were any to begin with. According to what Natalia said, we could be dealing with a very sophisticated operation here.”
    “The FSB?”
    “Exactly. Miles, I think we need more information on that orga nization.”
    “Agreed. I’ve got a colleague back in London who covers Moscow. I’ll see what he knows about the FSB, without revealing anything to him about Nat or her article.”
    “Good idea.” She cupped her chin in her hands, thinking. “So the murder victim worked for a top Russian agency shrouded in mystery, the sword that killed him was a Russian saber, and now Natalia, a lovely young Russian heiress and the deceased’s fiancée, appears to be in grave danger.”
    “Appears? I’d say she’s in it up to her Russian shoulder blades. I’m surprised you’d think otherwise.”
    “You know me, Miles. I tend to be on the skeptical side. I mean, what’s the connection? Natalia doesn’t seem to be a genuine threat to anyone.”
    He pushed the button for the elevator and waited for Darby to enter. “Nevertheless, she’s got to contact Benedetti and Ryan and tell them about that threatening note. Maybe they can find the connection.”
    “Yes. In the meantime, it’s lucky she has a bodyguard.”
    “Indeed,” Miles said drolly. “Our friend Sergei looks as if he could stop a speeding freight train.”
    “Do you think that her father has any idea of what’s going on? She never once mentioned him.”
    Miles shrugged. “He’s the fertilizer magnate, correct? Maybe she doesn’t want to deal with his …”
    “Sshh!” Darby giggled as the elevator stopped on the fifth floor. The doors opened and an elderly lady entered. She was wearing a smart navy suit of soft wool, and her gray hair was well-coiffed and tucked under a little cap. On her stocking-clad feet were what Miles and his countrymen called “sensible shoes.”
    Darby nodded in her direction, but in true New Yorker fashion, the woman stared straight ahead and kept silent. When the elevator reached the lobby, she marched off first, barely acknowledging the doorman when he called out a hello.
    “Ramon,” said Miles, pulling the doorman’s attention away from the tight-lipped matron.