My remark was greeted with silence. Then came a knock at the door.
“I’ve got to go,” I said.
“Be safe,” Justine replied, before I hung up.
I opened the door and found Dinara waiting.
“We have to leave,” she said. “It’s time to meet Maxim Yenen.”
CHAPTER 55
MAXIM YENEN’S DECISION to meet near Red Square surprised Dinara. It was one of the most heavily monitored parts of Moscow, and if the billionaire was trying to downplay his links to Private, the location was an odd choice.
They’d taken a taxi from the Residence to Pyanitskaya Street, where they’d joined the meager groups of tourists who’d braved the late hour and freezing temperatures to see the grandeur of St. Basil’s Cathedral and Red Square. As they reached the Bolshoy Moskvoretskiy Bridge, Dinara could see the distinctive outline of the cathedral, and the spires of the surrounding buildings. The brightly colored structures rose from the snow-covered landscape and were floodlit against the dark sky. The cathedral’s rainbow of domes, pattered like whipped ice creams gave the district a fairy-tale quality, but the charm of this building was dangerously disarming. It was easy to forget the violence and oppression this place had witnessed. Bad things had happened here.
Dinara and Jack walked north across the bridge. There were a few tourists milling around here and there, taking pictures of the landmarks. Jack said nothing as they crossed the river, his eyes set firmly ahead. Dinara had been impressed with how he’d tackled the fighter at Grom Boxing, and found herself wondering whether he’d been particularly hard on his opponent because he’d been one of the men who’d tried to abduct her.
He’s not your knight in armor, Dinara told herself. He’s your boss and he did what he thought best for the investigation.
Still, it didn’t hurt to dream, and there were far worse things to imagine than a life with Jack Morgan. He was handsome, strong, intelligent and capable.
Dinara’s attention was drawn to a group of six men crossing the bridge in the other direction. She recognized Yenen’s bodyguards and saw the man himself at the heart of the entourage. He wore a tuxedo and a long woolen coat, and carried a tumbler of amber liquid.
“You’ve been making a lot of noise for a company called Private,” he said in Russian.
“It was necessary,” Dinara replied. She switched to English and said, “Maxim Yenen, this is Jack Morgan, the head of Private.”
“I know who Mr. Morgan is,” Yenen responded in perfect English. “His name is being whispered all over the Kremlin.”
“I’m flattered by the attention,” Jack said. “But I’m not interested in fame. I want to know why you hired us. I want to know who Yana Petrova is.”
Yenen looked irritated and he waved his guards away.
“Give us a minute,” he instructed them in Russian, and the five large men backed away.
“I thought you were discreet,” Yenen said, rounding on Dinara.
“Take it easy,” Jack interjected, putting himself between the two of them. “Did you know Petrova was—”
“Don’t even say that name,” Yenen interrupted, looking round nervously.
Dinara was puzzled. This wasn’t the confident billionaire they’d met days earlier.
“Why did you hire us? Did you know her other identity?” Jack asked.
“Who knows who anyone really is?” Yenen replied cryptically. “Truth. Lies. Does any of it matter?”
“Yes,” Jack snapped back instantly. “It all matters. The lies someone’s spreading right now are destroying my business. What do you know about that?”
“You’ve been making too much noise,” Yenen replied. “That’s all I know.”
“Was Yana Petrova making too much noise?” Dinara asked.
“They made an example of her,” Yenen said. “To discourage others.”
“Others?” Jack asked.
“Maybe I made a mistake,” Yenen responded. “It was wrong of me to involve you. I don’t know why I did it, but then who knows why I do half the things I do?”