The Flight Attendant(45)

But she knew this: whatever was coming was getting closer.



* * *



? ?

When she got home, she finally connected with Ani. She rolled her suitcase into her bedroom and collapsed onto the couch to look up at the Empire State Building through windows speckled with city grime and summer grit. The sky was blue, however, and though it was August now and the days were noticeably shorter than a month ago, the sun was still high.

“How was Rome?” Ani asked.

“Not glamorous. I stayed at the hotel. I didn’t feel like going out.” She took a breath and said, “I’ve seen the pictures on the New York Post website.”

“Yup. They weren’t online yet when I called you. But I’ve seen them, too. I rather doubt it will be a front-page story in the paper edition tomorrow. It was Dubai, after all.”

“That’s the bright side.”

“Yes. But I have good news.”

And instantly she knew what Ani was about to say, and she closed her eyes and realized she was crying. Again. And she didn’t care. It was as if she had just gotten a call from a doctor about a biopsy and it was negative, and the doctor was explaining that she didn’t have cancer. “Go on,” she said.

“Highly unlikely you’ll be extradited. That amendment I told you about? An American citizen is indeed exempt.”

“That means I could only be extradited to Dubai if I weren’t American?”

“Correct.”

“So, then, what’s next?”

“Call back the FBI, but tell them nothing. Nothing. Say things like I don’t remember. Let me think about it. If they insist on seeing you—and they might—I’ll go with you and we’ll meet with them together.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Want to see you? I think a lot depends on who Alex Sokolov really was or how well connected the family really is. Frankly, I’m more than a little shocked that the FBI seems to be so deeply involved. I’ve done my homework now, and Dubai doesn’t need the FBI. They’re not amateurs. They know what they’re doing.”

“Okay.”

“I’ve also done a little more research into Sokolov.”

Cassie held her phone against her ear with her shoulder and blew her nose almost silently. “And?”

“And everything suggests he really was a hedge fund manager. Yes, he’s based in New York, but all the money runs through the Caribbean.”

“What does that mean?”

“It could mean nothing. It could mean anything. Whenever the money goes through a place like Grand Cayman, you have to wonder. The U.S. can’t track it as easily—if at all. The Treasury Department has something called an OFAC list. It’s a whole bunch of seriously sketchy foreign nationals or groups, and American banks or funds can’t accept money from any of them. So if you want to work with those characters, you have to work through the Caribbean.”

“So he was doing something shady?” Cassie asked. “The FBI believes he was involved with people on that list?”

“Maybe.”

“Is that why he was killed?”

“Well, we wouldn’t kill him for that. If he was doing something illegal, I kind of think we’d just arrest him.”

“So why did…they…kill him?”

“Maybe he was stealing,” Ani answered, and Cassie found herself relieved that the lawyer hadn’t begun her response, even in jest, with something along the lines of Assuming you didn’t kill him? “You know, skimming off the top,” she continued. “Or maybe he was running some Ponzi scheme and he went too far. Got in too deep.”

“Good God, if no one slashed Bernie Madoff’s throat, why would the investors take out poor Alex? What he did had to have been small potatoes by comparison.”

“We don’t know it was small potatoes. We just don’t. There could be a lot of Russian money in that fund. You don’t steal from the Russians. I’m Armenian, trust me. I know. They can be seriously badass.”

“He just didn’t seem like the type.”

“When people need money or love money, they sometimes make very bad decisions,” she reminded Cassie. Then: “The family published his first full obituary. You can find it online. It’s in the Charlottesville Progress. Here are a few things I learned that are not in the obit: Grandfather emigrated here from the Soviet Union when Stalin was still Stalin: 1951. Unsure precisely how. He was a soldier in the Second World War. Self-made man after he got here. Settled in Virginia. Became a lawyer and married a good southern girl with money. I’ve already had a private investigator do a little digging. I’m going to have him do a little more.”

“Can I afford that?”

“No. But he won’t go crazy. I just want to learn a bit about the family and about Alex. See what sorts of interests he might have had.”

“Business interests?”

“Yes. It might be helpful to discover precisely what was in the fund. But I was thinking personal interests, too.”

“Can you tell me more?” Cassie asked.

“No, but only because there isn’t anything more to tell at this point.”

“What about Miranda?”

“What about her?”