FEARLESS FINN'S MURDEROUS ADVENTURE (35 page)

“Yes, I have the money,” I said, taking a hundred rouble note from my pocket.

“Forget about the paperwork, my eyes are not as good as they used to be. When Nataliya Yelena was around…such a clever girl…of course, we didn’t live here then. That was before….Your room is next to mine,” she said, as she held up a key. “It’s a little cheaper than the upstairs rooms. Come over after you unpack. We’ll drink tea….I can not give you vodka.”

I’m excited with the way things are going. Galina Maksimovna’s already mentioned Nataliya, and little Nakita Sylvina seemed pleased to see me again. The cheaper room is a reasonable size; it has basic furnishings, and it’s decorated in the sort of impersonal style of hotel chains.

I went over to their apartment after I unpacked; we sat together at a small round table with a floral print tablecloth. Galina Maksimovna is preparing tea with hot water from her samovar.

“This is such a pretty tablecloth. My mother uses one exactly like it when special guests are coming for tea. So, if you don’t mind, I’ll think of myself as a special guest. Is that OK Nakita?” I said.

“Oh yes, yes. You are our special guest from Murmansk where the trees are ice lolly pops. Ha ha!” replied little Nakita, as she poured pretend tea from her plastic silver teapot.

———

I met Finn for lunch at a café on Klimentovsky Pereulok. Spotting him at the back of the café, I sidestepped legs jutting out from tables and made my way over to him.

“I’m glad you’ve arrived. I was becoming restless…and thinking about up-ending the prat sitting in the booth behind you. I’ve sat here for half an hour, watching the young Muscovites. They’ve the manners of their western counterparts…loud, mildly aggressive, and sprawling across two seats when one should accommodate them. It appears that male youth are equally uncouth under communism or capitalism,” said Finn, as he reached across to push back the floppy fur hood on my coat.

I think this is the first time I’ve noticed Finn’s socially responsible side. I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised. After all, he’s given up his life to fight for the right of people to live their lives in freedom, and not as ‘third class citizens’. There even seems to be a different look in his eyes. It’s a look of determination and resignation, if you know what I mean. But I won’t say anything like that to him.

“
Varför mister bära du ser så allvarligt, ja
?” I whispered, as I fluffed back his long blond hair.

———

Four gun-toting police officers just pushed their way into the middle of the room and the café fell silent. Feck me…I’m glad I didn’t up-ended that prat who was annoying me before Anna arrived.

Shite, they’re checking people’s papers. I have my Finnish passport, and I assume Anna has hers. I took the doctor’s letter explaining my chronic laryngitis out of my pocket and whispered to Anna to take it.

The prat sitting behind Anna yelled out something that pissed off the police. They shoved through the crowd, grabbed the prat and dragged him feet first out the door. Thanks be to Jaysus for foolish young men!

Anna doesn’t need to be told what to do. She was up and out the door before I could find a few kopecks to leave for the waitress. Once we turned the corner Anna burst out laughing…and she doesn’t seem able to stop. Clinging on to me to remain upright, she told me what the prat yelled. He said that those policemen ‘wouldn’t find a condom if it was hanging on their limp dicks.’

LANTAU ISLAND and HONG KONG

Maybe I don’t
have to worry about Nico telling the Russian pimps about me and Nataliya Yelena. But I’m not going to leave her alone in the house again; she’ll have to come with me to Hong Kong tomorrow.

I need to find out if
Gerry Gant
can get US citizenship for Nataliya Yelena and Nakita Sylvina if I marry Nataliya and adopt Nakita. I’m sure Nataliya won’t mind shopping for wedding clothes while I go to the embassy.

“Scrub up sweetie, ’cuz you’re coming to Hong Kong with me in the morning. We’re meeting Earl, but when I go to the American embassy you can go shopping for your wedding dress, and what’s that they call it…your trousseau…isn’t that it? For a bride?”

She giggled with delight. I knew that would make her happy.

———

“Gerry, I have never been to Hong Kong, not really. I am so excited.
Благодарю вас Джерри
…thank you Gerry.
Ты слишком добр ко мне
…you are too good to me,” said Nataliya as we stepped on to the Sea Ranch launch.

“You’re welcome honey…it’s my pleasure.”

“How long will it take to get there?”

“It’s about fifty minutes to Central Pier, then we’re meeting Earl at the Ritz. You can go shopping after that…when I’m at the embassy.”

“I’ve never seen the skyscrapers, the swanky hotels, the shops, the rich men’s cars…or the beautiful women.”

“Well they ain’t as beautiful as you,” I said, trying to sound interested, but to tell you the truth, my mind is on other things.

“In Macau, when I was in a hotel lying under a man, I knew that there were glamorous women sitting downstairs waiting for their husbands to rejoin them…after doing things to young Russian girls they would never do to their glamorous wives or expensive girlfriends.…”

It’s only a hop, skip and a jump to the Ritz-Carlton from Central Pier, and the humidity is pretty low. Nataliya held my hand as we strolled down the pier and took the escalator up to the elevated walkway. We walked to Exchange Square, crossed over Connaught Road, and descended the steps to Statue Square. I watched her looking around like an awe-struck kid – at Exchange Square, Jardine House, Hongkong Bank, the Hong Kong Club, and Statue Square.

We walked into the second-floor lounge at the Ritz-Carlton and Earl was talking to the general manager, Michael Matthews. He took Nataliya’s hand and lifted it to his lips…like some fancy European prince.

“Welcome, welcome to our humble hotel, do make yourselves comfortable. I’ll send over a waitress. Drinks and snacks are complimentary, so do enjoy….The smoked salmon is particularly fine today,” said Michael, and he thanked Nataliya for gracing his hotel with her beauty – those Brits are a class act…at least when there’s a great-looking broad around. “I must dash. I’ve got a VIP pop singer checking in, and he’s bound to expect the GM, that’s me, to meet and greet him,” he explained. “Catch you later, perhaps?
Прощайте мои принцессы
,” he said, before running off to meet his VIP.

“Earl, this is Nataliya Yelena. Nataliya Yelena, this is my buddy Earl. Honey, what did the hotel manager say to you in Russian?”

“‘Goodbye my princess.’ He said goodbye and called me princess. That’s all right, isn’t it Gerry?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

We sat by the window watching a group of British military guys cleaning the Cenotaph in the Square. Earl got down to business as soon as the friendly waitress who took our order left the table. He picked up his cell phone, called a guy in the US embassy and made an appointment for me to see him this afternoon.

“Gerry, why don’t you cover all your bases and get Canadian passports too? There are thousands of Ukrainians, Serbs, Poles and Russians living in Canada these days, so the girls’ accents won’t matter.”

“Good idea Earl.”

“Nataliya, we’ll put Nakita on your passport. I’ll need a photo of her that’s a few years old. What family name do you want to use?” Earl asked.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Nataliya spoke up before me. “We should stay in our own names, until we are married, yes?”

“Smart thinking there Nataliya,” said Earl. “That makes sense…seeing as you, Gerry, weren’t living in the Soviet Union when Nakita was conceived.”

With the passport names agreed, Earl went to meet his buddy at the Canadian Consulate in Exchange Square. As soon as he stood up Nataliya excused herself and rushed off to the ladies’ room.

An outsized Brit is walking towards our table. He’s wearing a double-breasted suit with cigar ash on the lapels, and his pants are way too high up over his bulging belly. His pants are barely held in place by red suspenders with those yellow and green teddy bears on them – the kind of present a father gets from his kids at Christmas.

“I say, old boy, don’t mean to intrude or anything….But the female you have in tow, so to speak…well, do you know? Well, do you?” he asked, as he smothered me with the stench of gin breath.

“Do I know
what
?” I replied, as friendly like as I could manage. I have a feeling I already know what the jerk is about to say. If I were Fearless Finn I know how I’d answer – with a swift right cross. But I’m not…and I’m not that almost-made-guy I’d almost been before I had to hightail it out of the States.

“She’s a prossie, a lady of the night, a harlot…you see. I just thought you deserved to know. Bit surprised, her being introduced to Michael Matthews. He’s the head buck around here…doesn’t care for prossies in his hotel…chap won’t have them in the place. I know because I tried to sneak an LBFM – a little brown fucking machine – in here myself once, you understand. I had to give her taxi fare and settle for the in-house porn channel. Poor substitute….” he insisted I know.

I expected this to happen one day, but not so soon…not on our first damn day out together! But I have to deal with this crap if I’m going to marry a woman who’s been used and abused by men for money. It doesn’t matter to her old Johns that she was forced to offer them sex and never saw the money.

I stood up, put my arm around fatso’s shoulders and turned him to face me.

“Listen pal, I don’t want to have to embarrass you in front of your drinking buddies…but you’ve just made some strange remarks about a lady who’s on her way back into the room. If you have to pay for female company, I’m not surprised. You’re a fat, ugly slob…a fat ugly slob who just made a huge goddamn mistake. I need to hear you say…I made a mistake, a huge mistake…in the next five seconds.
Capisce
…understand?”

“I do apologise old chap. I…uh…I must’ve made a mistake. Didn’t mean to offend…still…I could have sworn…but, sorry and all that. Must’ve been another Russian, what!”

“Good enough. Now get the hell out of my sight…before the lady sees you!”

Now I understand Nataliya’s urgent need to run off to the ladies’ – she saw the old bastard. I won’t push the issue with her, but it makes one thing clear…we have to get married somewhere else. Central Hong Kong’s not going to work out for the wedding.

———

When we got back to the house we were loaded down like two pack mules with all Nataliya’s shopping for the wedding. The phone is ringing inside and I rushed to get the door open.

“It’s Finn honey….He wants his Russian-speaking broad to talk to you.” I almost called him
Fearless
before I handed the cordless handset to Nataliya Yelena, but I decided I better not.

Nataliya started bawling her eyes out after a few minutes, and I grabbed the phone back. “What the fuck’s happened? Why’s my
bellezza
crying like Niagara Falls, eh? Tell me, now!”

“Just a moment please, I’ll put you on to Finn. You are Gerry, I suppose?” said a girl in English, with a kind of singsong voice.

“Are you Yanks never satisfied, eh? What the feck is your problem Gerry?” asked Finn.

What the hell’s with this guy’s attitude? Something’s turned my Nataliya Yelena into a blubbering mess. She’s hiding her face in her hands and the tears are streaming between her fingers. This has to be bad.

“Finn have a heart, she’s falling to pieces. Give it to me straight.”

“Calm down Gerry. We’re making progress here, and the news should have your lover laughing with joy. Speaking of which, there was no need to yell at Anna.”

“Progress, eh? So, tell Anna
Mi dispiace
for yelling at her. By the way, we need a photo of Nakita…taken a few years ago…for a passport.”

“Fine, now put your arm around that sobbing mother and listen up. My Swedish beauty is practically a member of the Maksimovna family. She’s living next door to Galina Maksimovna and Nakita Sylvina, having tea in their apartment and getting on grand like. In fact, Anna’s going to offer to walk Nakita to and from school. Now, those tears you were yelling about…are you sure they’re not tears of joy ya dense eejit? Take a good look for feck’s sake, will ya!”

I lifted Nataliya’s fingers from her face.
Ragazzo
, do I feel like an
idiota
! Her face is glowing, there’s a little tremble in her upper lip, but she’s smiling all right.

“Finn, buddy…what can I say? It’s the Sicilian in me. Yeah, Nataliya’s got a smile like a Barnum and Bailey clown….I got carried away. I’m sorry….I just hate to see my girl cry.
Capisce
…you understand?”

“I suppose. Anyway, we should be getting the package home within the next two or three weeks, depending on the route we take.”

“I see….Well…my apologies again to your girl there. No hard feelings, I hope?”

“Wait…Gerry! Gerry…please!” Nataliya piped up. “Oh God, thank Finn! Thank his lovely friend! She speaks Russian like a native…tell her
cпасибо, спасибо
…thank you, thank you!”

“Did you hear that Finn?”