Stone Barrington 27 - Doing Hard Time

bodyguards, we don’t have a federal case against him, unless there were witnesses.”
    “The only other person in the suite at the time of the shootings was a hooker, who apparently was in bed with Majorov. She says she heard gunfire, and one of the bodyguards came into the bedroom where they were sleeping and got them up.”
    “So Majorov has a witness who exonerates him.”
    “It would appear so, sir.”
    “Get over to the police station yourself and interview everybody concerned, including the hooker, then get back to me.”
    “Yes, sir.” The AIC hung up.
    Kerry thought for a few seconds, then called Lance Cabot.
    “Cabot.”
    “It’s Kerry Smith.”
    “Yes, Kerry?”
    “We sent two special agents to the New Desert Inn to interview Majorov, and his bodyguards killed both of them.”
    “I’m sorry, Kerry, you’re not making any sense.”
    “You’re not listening, Lance. Majorov’s bodyguards killed both our agents when they went to his suite, then they apparently hustled Majorov out of the hotel and to the airport, where he shot them both. He now claims they were kidnapping him.” He gave him all the information he had.
    “My condolences on the loss of your agents,” Lance said. “Is there anything else I can do for you? I’m in a meeting.”
    “Nothing!” Kerry shouted, then banged down the phone.
    •   •   •
    Lance called Mike Freeman.
    “Yes, Lance?”
    “Your information about Majorov was correct,” Lance said.
    “Will anything come of his being there?”
    “A great deal has already come of it,” Lance said. He relayed what Kerry Smith had said to him.
    “That’s bizarre,” Mike said. “What are the charges against Majorov?”
    “None, so far. He lawyered up immediately, and he may very well be released shortly, if he hasn’t been already.”
    “Is there anything I can do?”
    “No, Mike, this is merely a courtesy call. Goodbye.” Lance hung up.
    Mike called Billy Barnett on the cell number he had been given.
    “Yes?”
    “It’s Mike Freeman.”
    “Hello, Mike. What’s up?”
    “I made a call about Majorov to someone who made a call to the FBI, who sent two agents to see him. As far as I can tell, Majorov’s bodyguards killed the agents, then Majorov killed the bodyguards at the airport and is claiming they kidnapped him.”
    “If I read that in the newspapers I wouldn’t believe it,” Teddy said.
    “Neither would I.”
    “I don’t know what to say.”
    “Neither do I. I’ll let you know when I hear more.” Mike hung up.
    •   •   •
    Pete Genaro sat in his office, staring at the blotter on his desk. Majorov sat across from him, sipping a brandy and soda.
    “Thank you for sending Mr. Greenbaum,” Majorov said. “He was very good.”
    “You’re welcome,” Genaro said. “Mr. Majorov, I would be grateful if you would not kill anyone else in my hotel.”
    Majorov shrugged. “I have not killed anyone in your hotel, only the two bodyguards who were kidnapping me. I believe Mr. Greenbaum has convinced the police that that is so. However, the police have asked me to remain in Las Vegas until their investigation is complete—a few days, Greenbaum says. I suppose my suite is still available?”
    “Yes,” Genaro said tonelessly.
    “What have you heard from your skip tracer fellow?”
    “Oh, that.”
    “Yes, that.”
    “Billy Burnett has disappeared without a trace. My man is the best in the business, and he has been unable to find him or the girl.”
    Majorov set down his drink and spread his hands. “I must ask you to provide security for me while I am in the hotel,” he said.
    “All right,” Genaro said. “I can spare one man, but not outside the hotel.”
    “I will remain in the hotel and the casino,” Majorov said, rising. “Now I will go to my suite.”
    “Of course,” Genaro said.

Stone walked into the Four Seasons at lunchtime; Mike Freeman was waiting for him at the bar. The headwaiter seated them immediately at Mike’s usual table, and half a bottle of a good Chardonnay was waiting for them in an ice bucket.
    As soon as they had ordered, Mike took a deep breath and began. “I have news of Yuri Majorov,” he said.
    “Did they find his body?”
    “In a manner of speaking. It’s occupying a suite at the New Desert Inn, in Las Vegas.”
    “Is it breathing?”
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “Then we should probably call someone in law enforcement, shouldn’t we?”
    “I have already done so, if rather