Hidden Prey

company still exists. I hear it’s been making a bunch of money since the World Trade Center attacks. Government contracts.”
    “You don’t look like, mmm, a technologist,” she said. She had more questions, and Lucas found himself being thoroughly and pleasantly debriefed. When she’d finished, she said, “Hmph.”
    “Hmph, what?”
    She smiled: “I would prefer to work with somebody a little stupider.”
     
    H E LAUGHED and his cell phone rang. “Yeah?”
    Marcy said, “Lucas. I think we have a line on your guy. What do you want to do?”
    “What do you have?”
    “He’s a student, majors in psychology. Name is Larry Schmidt. Twenty-four. Six years in school, hasn’t graduated yet. He might be hanging around because it gives him access to his market. Handles hot electronics—mostly computer equipment and sound stuff. He’sbeen busted twice, walked both times. He’s not big, he’s not small, he’s just . . . profitable.”
    “You got enough for a warrant?”
    “Absolutely. We’ve got three different people who name him as a fence and who tell us he sells out of his apartment.”
    “Get one. I can be down there . . .” He looked at his watch. “By four o’clock. I’ll see you at your office.”
    “Do that.”
     
    N ADYA SAID , “ WHAT ?”
    “We found the guy who probably has the computer. Or had it,” Lucas said.
    “You will arrest him?”
    “Yeah. I’m going down this afternoon.”
    “I will come. Maybe we should go now . . .”
    Lucas said, “We’re right at Virginia. We take a half hour to scare the shit out of the Spivaks, to see if that produces anything, and then we head back.”
    “Good,” she said. “Maybe things start to move.”
     
    A T THE HOSPITAL , they were told that Spivak had already left. One of the nurses said he was apparently going to the police station. Lucas called the number he’d been given by the chief, and the duty officer said that Spivak had just left, and he thought he was headed for the bar.
    The bar was open: Spivak was in the back with his son, and unhappy to see them come through the door. “What, you didn’t get me killed the first time you came, so you come back,” he grated. He was wearing a plastic neck collar, but his voice had improved.
    “That wasn’t us,” Lucas said. Spivak was sitting at a table, a beer infront of him; his son had just come out of the Pointers. Lucas pulled a chair around, sat down, and faced the older man. Nadya stood, looking down at him, and his son pulled out a stool at another table. “What happened was, you took a meeting that you shouldn’t have. We want to know what it was about. Are you a Russian spy? Are you selling dope? Information? What? What’s going on?”
    “Spy,” Spivak said, recoiling. “Me. I was in the fuckin’ army, I’m an American. Were you in the army? You come in here and almost get me killed by some crazy man . . .”
    “Yes, yes, yes,” Nadya said. “This is all very . . .” She flipped a hand, as if brushing him away. “ . . . dramatic. Rehearsed. We don’t need this. I think Mr. Davenport would tell you that he doesn’t care about spy. What we need to know is, What did Oleshev say to you? What did he say that caused him to be killed? If you wish, we can pretend that you only overheard it.”
    Lucas pointed a finger at him: “You got lucky the first time, pal. Some guy walking through the alley, sees you strung up. If he hadn’t been there, you’d be dead. Right now, you’d be lying in a coffin down at the funeral home. And I’ll tell you: whoever killed Oleshev, he’s still out there. He killed Mary Wheaton in Duluth just because he thought she might have seen his face. He’s coming back. He’s a pro, and I don’t think he’ll miss you twice.”
    “BUT I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING!” Spivak shouted. “I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING !”
    Lucas leaned back in his chair, looking at the other man’s reddened face. Nadya shook her head, looked at Lucas, and said, “He’s lying. If we had him in Moscow . . .”
    “Maybe we’ll export him,” Lucas said.
    “I think you two better leave, and we should get a lawyer,” the son said. “Dad, stop talking.”
    Lucas looked at the younger man and said, “I wasn’t joking about the killer coming back. But he might figure that if your father didn’t talkwhen he was standing on the beer bottles, that he’ll never talk. He might come and get you or your sister, try to get some leverage.”
    The