Black Wolf by Kathleen Kent

Author:Kathleen Kent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: None
Publisher: Little, Brown and Company
Published: 2023-02-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Monday, August 6, 1990

Nadia picked Mel up in a little burnt-orange sedan fitted with mismatched tires and a cracked rear window. She rolled down the driver’s-side window and waved.

Mel had left her purse at the front desk with a note for Dan that she wouldn’t be joining the group for dinner, and not to worry, that she was going to the banya with a girlfriend. This, after all, was still within her directive. She’d placed her Maryland driver’s license and some rubles in the pocket of her coat.

When she got into the car, Nadia arched one eyebrow, an unlit cigarette planted between her lips. She’d wiped off all traces of makeup and had changed into jeans and a T-shirt. “Mondays. Idi na hui, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Mel answered.

The car immediately stalled. “Fucking Škoda,” Nadia swore as she pumped the gas pedal. After a few moments, the engine caught, and the sedan leapt forward. As she drove, she jammed in the cigarette lighter and, when it glowed red, ignited her cigarette with a flourish.

“It’s a piece-of-shit Czech car, but it belongs to my cousin Vladimir, and I get to borrow it whenever I want.”

She turned up the volume on the radio and sang along to a pop song in Russian.

Nadia sighed. “Hopefully, I won’t have to work at the Planeta much longer. I think I will soon have a patron. This guy, he’s old and fat, but he’s Swiss. And he’s loaded.”

“What does that mean exactly, a patron?”

“It means,” Nadia said, flicking ash from her open window, “that I won’t have to suffer under those svoloch’ Germans no more. I’ll have a new car maybe and a better apartment.”

Within ten minutes they had reached the banya, a square concrete building only one story tall, with a sturdy metal door at the front. Nadia parked and pulled a small gym bag from the backseat.

“The country banyas are better, but this is one is clean,” she said. “They will provide everything that you need.”

Whatever Mel had envisioned, this squat, ugly building was not it.

They entered a small receiving room. An older woman in a wrinkled housedress sat behind a desk, reading a body-building magazine. The captions were all in Cyrillic, but the glistening, tanned male bodies spoke a universal language.

The woman handed over two large white bath towels, two pairs of rubber slippers, and two oversized felt hats without speaking a word. Nadia provided a few rubles, and the woman pressed a button, opening the internal door to the spa.

Nadia led Mel past a sitting area furnished sparsely with a few worn couches and chairs and into a pristine tiled shower room. All the shower stalls were open, with no curtains or doors for privacy.

“There are no locks on any of the lockers,” Mel said.

Nadia made a face as she set down her bag and started removing her T-shirt and jeans. “There’s nothing worth stealing.” When Mel looked doubtful, she added, “Don’t worry, your things will be safe here. Theft only happens in the

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