SNAP: New Talent (9 page)

Well, there were a lot of people interested in what the movers and shakers of Ukraine, Russia and the Baltic states were doing.  People around the world didn’t just live their own lives any more, witness the role the social media had in the north-African Arab uprisings. 

And we at SNAP didn’t care about the politics, just about the people.  What they were doing, who they were seeing, what they were wearing, where they were going.

“We’ll figure it out.”  Taras and Nikoly shared a glance, then Nikoly turned to me.  “There’s going to be a showing of a new designer this evening.  They’ve rented a small museum and it’s very private, a guest list of only 200, but we’re on it.  We’ll pick you up at 8.”

I used another empty office to check in with Jazz and plow through emails.  Nothing had blown up, the story of my fall in Paris had blown over and the fall Santa Anas were blowing in from the desert.

“It’s so clear, you can see Catalina.” Jazz was jazzed.  There was an energy, an electricity in the air when the winds started.  Not only did they sweep all the pollution out to sea, but they crackled with potential.  One of the potentials was that of wildfires, so Santa Anas were a mixed blessing.

I told her about the event I was attending and promised if any good information came out, I’d get it to her ASAP.

By 7:30, I was ready to meet the oligarchs, or whoever was on that 200-person guest list, so I couldn’t put off the next call.

He answered on the first ring.  “How is it?”  Jean-Louis’ voice made my knees give out and I headed for the sofa, but decided I’d sit in a straight-back desk chair.  Kind of like a cold shower.

“It’s okay, it’s nice, it’s, it’s different than I expected.”

I could feel his smile.  “You haven’t been to Kiev before, have you? I forget.”

“No. I had a quick trip to Moscow once, but never here.  It’s so modern, and so big!”

“Those are some of the reasons we wanted to put that bureau there.  Once the Soviets left, the Ukrainians took off.  They want to be seen as a new nation, on the cutting edge of business and technology.”

I snickered. “I got that.  I met Nikoly and when I asked him what his job was...”

“Did you get the interfacing supply side answer?”  By now, Jean-Louis was laughing.

“I did!  Did you guys send him to the London School of Economics or something?  Or just buy him an MBA?”

Jean-Louis’ voice lost its humor.  “Don’t think he’s just an educated jerk.  We crammed him full of business-speak when we were planning this expansion to give him a good cover.  He’s been a family member for about 300 years, so he’s seen a lot come and go in the Ukraine.  He knows most of the players, maybe not the current heads of clans, but their histories, so he can run a deep background and find out anything.”

“That sounds like blackmail!”

“That’s exactly what it is.   And in that part of the world, it’s the business model.  Pay to play.   The other part is that he knows which of the clans, the thugs, are currently looking for contracts.   He’ll know who the Huszars are using before they even shake hands.  Sandor is going to call him every day.”

“Oh, God! I didn’t think about phones!  This isn’t being tapped, is it?” 

“No, as long as you use your cell and keep it short.  I don’t think we need to go to single-use pre-paid phone for you.  You’re an executive in the largest media conglomerate in the world, and it would look pretty suspicious if you never had the same phone number.  Have a good time tonight.  Message me if you find anything interesting.  I love you.”

I managed the business part of the call fine, but started to come apart at that.  He could tell my voice was choking up, because he said, “You don’t need to message me, I’ll be there when you get back from the party.”

It didn’t matter how or why, Jean-Louis was coming to be with me.

Chapter Sixteen

This was no backward city.  Kiev may not get the headlines that other places did, but her people sure read and followed the trends.

The party was at a “small museum” that was originally an 18
^th
century house.  The facade was rococo gone tatty but somebody had spent a lot of petrodollars on renovating the inside.  It was all steel and glass with cantilevered stories opening up on a central atrium.  Taras told me that the roof over the atrium slid open during the summer, but it was closed this night.  I know, because through the glass I watched someone’s personal helicopter land.

This was money, capital M money.  I didn’t know the Russian, or Ukrainian, for “trophy wife” but these guys had bought the best of them, then continued to spend.  Every Parisian, Milanese and hot New York designer was represented and sables—my God, I hadn’t seen this much sable, well, ever—were carelessly slung around shoulders. 

The guys looked dumpy, even in their designer suits, and tended to be shorter than the women, not hard considering the women all wore minimum four inch heels.  Then they chose to complement their shortish, brutish, hairyish looks with gold.  It draped around their wide necks, flowed down their heavy chests, and slipped out to their ham-hock hands in the form of both bracelets and rings.

Like all good A List parties, the place was filled with chatter in a dozen languages and air kisses.   Servants toted around trays of iced vodka, so cold it was syrupy, Cristal Champagne, Beluga caviar, tiny blinis with foie gras; everything that was a no-no on a PC foodies list was here.  I expected to see sharks’ fin or bear’s paw or some other Asian delicacy, but this crowd looked west, not east.  They knew where their bread had been buttered.

Taras took my arm and steered me to a few of the smaller chatting groups, but the name “SNAP” didn’t carry quite the cachet here.  These people flaunted their wealth and power in a different way.  They had no need to impress the masses, they were out to impress each other and jockey for position in their peer group.  I could see we were going to be hard pressed to build a stable of celebrities, but I decided to look at this as a “challenge”.  I couldn’t help smiling when a mental image of Nikoly popped up.  Speaking of the vampire, where was he?

I craned around, then took the stairs up to a mezzanine level.  The air was cleaner and quieter here—I’d also forgotten that the California no-smoking campaign didn’t reach to here.  Leaning against the balcony rail, I slipped my right shoe off and stood on the cool stone, easing the pain that standing in stilettos brought.  As I closed my eyes and felt the cold stone numbing my toes, a voice in my ear said “Can you be trusted to carry a message?” I jerked around and saw one of the swarthy guests nonchalantly leaning over the rail, watching the crowd.

“Don’t react, don’t look at me.  I’m sending you and your Kandesky masters and pals a message.  This is my turf, our turf.  Stay out.”

By the time I worked up the courage to glance around, he was gone.  I couldn’t see him on the stairs, and in the crowd below a swarthy short guy in a black suit could have been anybody.

Well, I hadn’t been grabbed.  Small mercies, I guess.  I put my shoe back on and headed back down, only then noticing the small elevator.  That was how the guy disappeared so quickly.  My deductive powers must have been checked at the door, along with my bodyguard.

Okay, where was everybody?  Hadn’t Nikoly been on the guest list?  And Vladmir had come in the door, leaving Vassily with the driver, but I wasn’t seeing them.  I was working my way along the edge of the crowd when a hand touched my elbow.  I’d learned the hard way what happened when I screamed so I just sucked in—really hard—and turned to see Nikoly.

“I think we’d better leave.  I’ve talked to some people and Taras is still working the room, but I saw that you were approached.”

“Approached?  Well someone gave me a message.”  I was whispering in a quavery voice, so I started over.  “One of the guests spoke to me, yes.”  This time it came out a little stronger.

“I’ve just heard from Jean-Louis and he’s landing in about an hour.  He’ll meet us at the hotel.”  Nikoly’s hand at my waist guided me toward the door, where we picked up Vladmir.  It was times like this that the demons weren’t so demonic.

Back at our suite, I had time to change before Vassily knocked, Vladmir opened the door and Jean-Louis walked in.  I wasn’t sure how to act in front of a family member I’d just met.  Jean-Louis took the lead.  He shook hands with Nikoly and gave me a hug.  Nice.  Friendly. Nothing more.

“We need to talk about this.”  He turned to Vladmir.  “Go get us some Bull’s Blood, some white wine and...what would you like Maxie?”

We were ordering from room service?  I wanted a Valium, but doubted that was on the menu.  “I’d like some water, please, some Pellegrino?”

Vladmir nodded, spoke into his communicator and headed out the door, reappearing in less than a minute with the order.

Jean-Louis looked at us.  “Well?”

I started to sputter when Nikoly stepped in, smooth as satin.  “I noticed Maxie on the mezzanine, checking out the crowd, a good move.  Then suddenly there was someone beside her.  He must have said something, but she was very cool, didn’t jump, didn’t say anything.  He left, she stood there for a few seconds, looked around and headed down the stairs.”

That was terse and to the point.

Jean-Louis looked at me.  “And your version?”

Not a “Well done”, just the facts.  Okay.

“I thought maybe I could spot some of the important people better from the balcony, watch who was being surrounded, who people were gravitating to.  I saw a few eddys, guests schooling around couples.  I was going to ask Taras who they were when this voice said, ‘Give your Kandesky pals a message.  Stay out of our turf.’ I just caught a glimpse of him, he looked like any of the other guests, short, squatty, swarthy, then I closed my eyes and when I opened them, he was gone.  I put my shoe on and came downstairs where Nikoly found me.”

“You had your shoes off?”  Jean-Louis was hard pressed to keep a smile in check.

“No, not my shoes.  I just slipped one off for a second.”

“Well, if one if the demons isn’t near you, taking your shoes off might be good.  At least you could run faster.”

By now, Nikoly was amused.  “Is this something you practice all the time, Maxie?”  He had begun a very low glimmer.  I thought “Oh, no, not you too” then realized he was just stifling a laugh.

“She’s from Southern California.” Apparently, Jean-Louis felt this was enough of an explanation.  “Nikoly, do you know who this was?”

“I didn’t get a good enough look at him.  I’ve put the word out with my watchers and the early consensus is that it was one of the Huszars’ shapeshifters.  They do have some in this area.”

“What Huszars are here now?  I thought Matthais had called them home to get ready for an onslaught against us.”

Nikoly wrinkled his eyebrows.  “Some have gone back to Hungary, but I think Leonid is the highest-ranking Huszar still here.  He’s fairly high, takes part in Matthais’ council meetings and has a pretty free hand.”

“What are their moves?  We’re working with Markov and he’s pliant, but not over-long in the brains department.  I doubt Matthais brings him in on strategy sessions.”

“I agree.  Markov is good to have as a soldier, and he will follow leaders and whip up the troops, but subtly...not.  My field guys aren’t sure, but Leonid seems to be trolling for oligarchs, up-and-coming rich, what passes for the movers and shakers.  We’re just gathering info and not trying to analyze it yet.

A low hum came from Jean-Louis.  “We’ve heard from others that they’re making moves towards civility, so we have watchers, too.  One thing that concerns us is that we’ve heard some regulars are being turned.  And not just regulars, some stunning women who could compete with our current celebs.”

Now it was Nikoly’s turn to frown.  “I didn’t want to mention that because I thought it was just some isolated cases, but we’ve had a few here, too.  The ones we’re watching are turned, then show up on some oligarch’s arm, looking like trophy wives.  What was that silly American movie a while ago,
Step Wives
?”

“
Stepford Wives
.”  Finally, something I could contribute to the conversation.  “It was a story about all the men in a town turning their wives into robots.  Do you think all the trophy wives are vampires?”

Nikoly and Jean-Louis shared a glance.  Jean-Louis stood up and moved to the windows.  Kiev at night, a surprisingly urban cityscape, sparkled. 

“No, if there was a big increase in the Huszar family, we’d hear about it. Karoly is a member of the council.”

He turned back to the room.  “It seems odd that this would happen just as we move to get an Eastern bureau up.  And the message tonight.  Why does our expansion make them nervous, they’ve never been interested in business or money in the past.

“Well, Nik, let’s just keep a close eye on it.  Have you and Taras found enough people?  Do you have a portfolio we can go over? “

With that, the meeting shifted to
my
ground.  When it wrapped up an hour later, I had Jean-Louis all to myself until sunrise, when he’d leave to sleep at Nikoly’s home in the suburbs.

We made the best use of the time and when I finally had to sleep because I knew I wouldn’t be able to stand up,  I laid my head on his beautiful, pale chest and wondered how he could turn me into such a pleasure-seeking, pleasure-needing woman.

Chapter Seventeen

Francois!  I’d forgotten about our plans to go to Prague!

Between the incident in Paris, the fast trip to Kiev and the revelation that there seemed to be a bunch of new, beautiful vampires created by the Huszars, Prague was a million years ago.

When I called him to apologize, his breezy voice was a shade more somber.

“I’m so sorry, Francois.  I don’t usually just blow plans off.”

“Not to worry, Maxie.  Something has come up here, as well.”

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, it’s just that one of our paparazzi went missing and when we found him, he’d been threatened.”

“That’s crazy talk!  Who would threaten a paparazzi?  With what?”