NOTE: If you haven’t been following this from the beginning, and if you want to know the full sequence of events, start with the introduction. Click on Archives on the right.
Lou bites into his burger. A piece of lettuce falls on his plate, white stem, and green leaf-shred land on a red blob of dripped ketchup. He listens with his bun in both hands, chewing vigorously.
“Have you noticed Chuck Newsome seems to be a bigamist?”
He puts down his food and wipes his thick fingers on one of the white paper napkins scrunched up around his plate and swigs some Stella Artois straight from the bottle.
“You remind me of a hell of a question!”
“Aha, do go on!”
“Well, a long story in fact. It was at a data management conference in Vienna, back before selling the business to Fibonacci Corp.”
He chokes down another mouthful of burger.
“That’s where I met Nikita Sergeyevich.”
“Ahh, Nadia’s ex-husband isn’t it?”
Lou pushes his gold rimmed glasses up to the bridge of his nose.
“Right, one of them at least, and therein lies the story. I have heard a thing or two, you know, here and there, as he rose in prominence.”
“When was this? I mean was he part of Gorbachev’s movement?
“No, no, he is no Red, this was well after Perestroika you know, as Putin consolidated his power.”
“I guess Putin is more of a ‘black’, leaning in the Fascist direction.”
“Niki gave…hell, he probably still does… give generously to Putin’s youth movement ‘Nashi’. Even though their financing is never revealed, it is pretty clear that the big money, like Gazprom, contributes.”
Lou stuffs a few fries in his mouth and squirts more ketchup over the pile on his plate. Putting the plastic squeeze bottle down, he waves to the passing waitress. Still chewing his fries, he gesticulates. She laughs, nodding.
“That’s two more Stellas, right guys?”
He gives her the thumbs up and swallows his food with a Stella chaser, which drains the bottle.
“I didn’t get breakfast and two o’clock is way too late for lunch!”
“Way too late! …What was Diddlie’s problem by the way?”
“Oh, did she call you too?”
“I think she covered all her bases this morning.”
“Well, I didn’t get over there until after ten. You know how she gets.
Talking a mile-a-minute!”
“I’ve been there.”
“Lou bungs more burger in. The waitress brings two more Stellas and he orders another burger, but slaw instead of fries. We are sitting in front of the bow window in the H bar. The lunch crowd has moved on. Joy Flack and Congressman Bean are still at the bar talking to Mr. Hoffman. Theo Tinderbrush waves to us as he goes out through the heavy oak doors.
“I think the kid was his.”
“You mean Boyd?”
“Yeah, they did a DNA test.”
Lou is busy for a moment with his two-fisted burger and slaw.
“Right, I never heard the outcome.”
“Boyd is Theo’s…excuse me…”
A curly piece of cabbage falls from the corner of his mouth, with a drip of white.
“So, the cat is out of the bag!”
He picks up yet another napkin to wipe his mouth. He waves to the waitress with napkin in hand and she nods to us across several intervening tables.
“Not sure where the cat is, but it escaped Diddlie’s lips.”
The waitress brings him a stack of fresh napkins.
“Well, I shan’t bring it up. Did you see Harper?”
“No, Harper was only here for about a day and a half. He’s gone back to his job in Budapest.”
“Budapest? I thought it was Prague. What’s he doing there?”
“He’s teaching at Central European University, you know, George Soros’s project.”
Lou finishes off his fries and lifts the last piece of burger off his plate.
The waitress takes away our empties and brings Lou’s second burger, medium rare, no onions. He doesn’t go at it right away but leans back and loosens his belt.
“Any way the last time I saw Nikita Sergeyevich, he was a security type, based in Sophia Bulgaria. He was in charge of some ‘heavies’ and also sat in on data security briefings with his tech. buddy, Henri Beyle.”
“Beyle?”
“Also served time in France as Julien Sorel”
“Never heard of him.”
“No, I haven’t heard anything for years.”
“Was Niki married to Nadia at the time?”
“No, Nikita Sergeyevich Brasov moved to London after he had made his fortune and the right contacts to make more.”
“Whatever made Nadia tell you all this?”
“Nadia told me her story when I did some consulting work for Chuck Newsome. It was just a few days. Chuck was in London on business, Nadia was still nervous and needed to talk and I was listening. I worked partly out of my house and partly out of an office Chuck had in his old place before he built that palace by the river. Niki Brazov, it turns out, is a gangster/oligarch, with numerous shell companies, posing as an ordinary businessman.”
“Oh yes, money laundering, and property you mean?”
“I believe he had a roll in arming the ‘little green men’ who took over the Crimea. He also helps the Ukrainian separatists with volunteers from his militia organization.”
“Sounds like a shady KGB type alright.”
“Don’t know about KGB, he spent some time with another club though, jail time in 1981, on robbery, fraud and child prostitution charges. Then he got into Putin’s orbit somehow, as a paid informant, I suspect.”
“I get it, a talkative crook of many parts!”
“He picked up young Nadia at a London club, where she was out with friends. He charmed her with his Russian and his money.”
“But Nadia is a Brit. Sounds like one at least.”
“Well, kind of, Nadia’s father, Dr. Kutuzov was a Russian expat, of White Russian family and a mathematician at Kings College. She grew up bilingual, Russian/English in a bilingual expat. world. She was smart, and a little rebellious, a little adventurous, you know what I mean?”
“Oh yes, spirited girl!”
“That’s it. She also went to one of those elite British schools.”
Lou finishes his second burger and drains his second Stella. The waitress has kept up with him and picks up the bottle.
“Another Stella hon?”
Lou shakes his head.
“Just a coffee please…you want a coffee Fred?
“Sure.”
“No, excuse me, make that two coffees.”
Joy Flack and Congressman Bean leave through the back, led by Mr. Hoffman.
“Must be reporters somewhere near.”
“Maybe Lou, or maybe they have business back there.”
“Well, could be, the parking lot has emptied out. I don’t see a TV van or anything.”
“Anyway Lou, you were telling me about Niki and Nadia, but what about Paula. I thought Chuck was going to marry her? That will be bigamy.”
“He is marrying Paula, I think that’s why Nadia got together with Max Plank.”
“Yeah, right, they both went off to Bulgaria!”
It may get Chuck out of a jam with Brasov, for stealing his woman. “
“It may not too! I am sure that Nadia and Chuck were said to be married though.”
“Could be a convenience, just to get her into the States.
“There might be a contract of another sort, you know.”
“You mean out on Chuck’s life, Fred?”
“Yup!”
“Huh! Could be I suppose. Any way back before this, Chuck was sent over to London by his firm on business and met both Nadia and Brazov at this club in Mayfair, about the time they started getting involved. She liked both men. At the same time Chuck quits his firm and makes a deal with Nikita Brazov, which netted them a stream of income worth millions.”
“So, Chuck is flush with Russian oligarch money!”
“I believe so. After the deal was done, Nadia and Niki zoomed off to Bulgaria for a couple of weeks, to get married and meet his family.
A few days after they got back to London, Nadia called Chuck and later told him over lunch that she was leaving Niki.”
“Why?”
“He was punching her out and going with other women. The guy is a real brute!”
“No wonder she took off!”
“Nadia took up with Chuck partly for protection from Nikita’s retribution. It is a pretty dramatic story.”
The coffee arrives.
“Nadia left their hotel suite midmorning as Nikita was on the phone in another room, and room service brought breakfast. She stepped out while Niki’s ‘heavy’ turned his back and sat down to eat.
She walks out with no coat, only her purse and phone.
Goes down to the sub-basement and talks a young guy into guiding her out an obscure service door. You know Nadia. She is well put together and she knows when to flaunt it and when not to.
“Well I know Chuck likes to see it too.”
“Yeah, some of her outfits are pretty eye catching! Anyway…Luckily, Nadia finds a taxi dropping off passengers at the end of the block and gets in after them.
She goes to Victoria station and takes the train to Walthamstow Central.”
“Where’s that?”
I looked it up on the map and its way out in East London far from Mayfair, the Arab Sheiks and Russian Oligarchs.
Nadia is afraid to use her phone in case his people can track it.
She leaves it in the taxi. Hoping he will be miss led if he is tracking it. She buys a new one the high street.
She walks for blocks to find the store where an old school friend works. Nikita doesn’t know her. Natalia Bagrationi is part of the same White Russian expat. world and claims to be related to the great Russian General, Bigration.”
“Yes, wasn’t he was killed at Borodino?”
“Ah, maybe…She dropped out of the school where she and Nadia were friends and trained as a plumber. Years ago, Nadia watched her repair a toilet cistern at school with a piece of Styrofoam and a length of bamboo.”
“I would expect the school to do that, in a well-to-do place.”
“No, no, no, they had their weed stashed in the ballcock and it sank.”
“So maybe Natalia got the boot?”
“Could be, Nadia didn’t tell me. Any way Natalia’s contact info. was not on the old phone she left in the taxi, so Nadia felt safe.”
“Oh! two of my favorite men!”
Diddlie surprises us both.
“What are you guys scheming over now?”
“Oh, nothing much Did. Is your garbage disposal working okay?”
“Well, funny you should ask Lou.”
“Okay, what’s the laugh?”
Lou picks up his second Stella, finds it empty. Sips his coffee instead.
“It’s jammed again.”
“Aha, well that raccoon won’t be getting into the attic again.”
“I hope not Lou…you used a whole piece of plywood.”
“So, you came down here.”
“Boy! You got enough napkins Lou? Looks like you are collecting.”
“Well, ketchup gets around you know.”
“How many have you had?”
“Napkins? About a dozen.”
“Sweetie you know what I mean. How many Fred?”
“If you must know, I’ve had a couple of Stellas.”
“I had one before Fred got here, so that’s three.”
Diddlie unwinds her red scarf and takes off her matching wool hat.
“You are not the quiet guy I used to know, or the guy I saw this morning. Seems to me you are well sauced!”
“Yeah! I am happy enough. So, any way Did. How did you find me…us… down here?”
“You two are always in here Wednesdays lunch time. Is there any one in Fauxmont who doesn’t know that?”
“The majority of residents. I don’t think that we are all that well known.”
“Well, what do you think Fred?”
“Only a few people know me.”
Diddlie pulls up a chair.
“Are you going to invite me to sit down?”
“Did, you have taken care of that already.”
Diddlie is looking down at the table.
“Lou, any chance you can take another look under my sink?”
“Pretty fair chance I would say. What do you think Fred?”
“I’ll leave it to you. Would you like a coffee Did?”
Diddlie looks up and smiles at me.
“Thought you would never ask.”
“Did, you need to go by the hardware store next door and buy a new disposal. I can install it for you this evening.”
“How many more are you guys going to have?”
“As many as we want Did. You want a Stella to chase that coffee?”
Diddlie shakes her head.
“Why can’t you fix the old one?”
“Do you know how old it is?”
“Ah, no, don’t remember.”
“That’s it. Your disposal has worn out and it is going to jam up a couple more times and then just freeze up or short-out altogether.”
The waitress takes an order for coffee.
