Reds and Whites (Tom Lai Book 2) by Matthew Legare

Author:Matthew Legare [Legare, Matthew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Mist Books
Published: 2022-12-04T00:00:00+00:00

*****

The Lee Building was only a few blocks from the Fascist Party headquarters, but in this heat it felt like trekking across the Sahara. Frenchtown stank with the rancid air of packed humanity, people lounging on fire escapes and milling about on the hot streets. Razinkov led the way into the Lee Building and up to Paparova’s apartment, unlocking the door with a spare key.

“You come and go as you please?” Tom asked.

A shrug, then, “The Countess is the closest thing to family I have left. And vice versa. In her condition, she…depends on me.”

Razinkov pushed the door opened and entered. Despite the open windows, it was more like an oven than an apartment. A fly buzzed near the piano while the bamboo plants sagged in the thick humidity. Tom wondered if human beings could melt. A large chart now hung near the bamboo plant – a betting pool, scribbled with Cyrillic letters.

“What’s that?” Tom asked.

“A pool for ROVS members. We’ve been betting on which Bolshevik Stalin is going to purge next. Whoever is left standing wins the entire pot. My money is on Yezhov.”

A casual remark that hinted there must be far more money stashed away in this apartment than his payment. Tom didn’t expect the Countess to run a private casino, but White Guard intrigue didn’t fund itself.

Shuffling and squeaks echoed out from the back rooms as Countess Irina Paparova wheeled herself into view. A silk, sleeveless dress clung to her body, sticky with sweat, while her stoic, dignified face slackened in shock. Mouth agape, she sized them both up before composing herself.

“What are you still doing here, Yuri Dimitrievich?”

Razinkov took a deep breath, then replied in rapid-fire Russian. Countess Paparova’s stunned expression soon tightened into anger.

“You let Borisenko escape?” she sneered at Tom.

“Lady, I didn’t let anyone escape, and I have a knot on my head the size of a rock to prove it.”

Paparova wheeled back and forth, fuming in impotent rage. “Did the Chekists pay you more?”

Razinkov stepped closer, laying his placating hands on her bare shoulders. “Now, now, Countess. Mr. Lai has been cooperative with us. He has even agreed to—”

But Tom felt his own tongue loosened and sparked by a fury that had been building for days. “Lady, you got some nerve, talking to me like I’m one of your White Guards. How do I know it wasn’t someone in your outfit who tipped those Reds off?”

Her pretty face purpled. “You dare insult the ROVS?”

Razinkov stepped around, putting himself between them, a teacher stopping a schoolyard scuffle. “Calm down, both of you. This is no time to let our emotions get carried away.”

He fished out a papirosa cigarette, lit it, and handed it over to Tom. Puffing away tempered him a little, but he missed the smoothness of his Double Happiness. With the dough coming to him, he might even be able to afford Lucky Strikes again.

All that mattered was Borisenko. With each drag, his anxiety loosened, but an evil suspicion lingered, a rain cloud marring the horizon.

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