Russian Roulette by Austin S. Camacho

Author:Austin S. Camacho [Camacho, Austin S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Thrillers
ISBN: 9780979478840
Publisher: Intrigue Publishing
Published: 2009-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

-22-

“It’s hard to see you as a Renata,” Hannibal said. He settled into the cafeteria booth with the two cups of coffee.

“I’m as American as you are,” Queenie said, cupping her hands around her cup. “I grew up right here in the District. It’s not my fault my mother gave me that Old Country name.”

“And you ran as far from your culture as you could, didn’t you?” Hannibal looked at the cowboy boots and blouse, tight jeans and bottle-red hair, searching for the Eurasian features he knew they must hide. “But you couldn’t run far enough away to keep from marrying a Russian man, could you?”

“Ben?” Queenie sipped her coffee. “Ben’s Polish. And thank you, by the way, for helping him. I heard what you said in the room just before I walked in. If you hadn’t been looking for him, he might be dead right now. Do you know what happened to him?”

“Sure I do.” Hannibal leaned in, tired of being nice to this woman who seemed obsessed with deception. “Dani Gana caught him snooping one too many times and beat the crap out of him. His blood was all over Gana’s hands afterward. I saw it on Gana’s backdoor sill after he got home. He had to wrap his right hand, and after seeing Ben’s face I can see why. So whatever you wanted to trade Gana’s picture for, that’s what cost Ben that ass whipping. And I didn’t mean Ben anyway when I said a Russian man. I was talking about Boris Tolstaya.”

Queenie blanched and her lower lip started to quiver. Hannibal just figured this to be her second line of defense.

“Boris was Mother’s choice,” she said, her voice so low it was almost lost in the babble of other diners around her. Hannibal was suddenly aware of how crowded and how noisy the hospital cafeteria had become.

“Why Boris?”

“Why?” she asked. “He was an important man in the Russian community. He had lots of money and was very old school. And he was a constant gambler. You know, that was fun for a while.”

The coffee was hot but weak and rough. Hannibal drank it to give his hands something to do. “So, Boris was Mother’s pick. He was a player, a gambler, rich, influential, and fun. Ben Cochran appears to be broke, and kind of weak. How does a fellow like Ben win you over from a man like Boris Tolstaya?”

“With a straight flush,” Queenie said, pulling out a cigarette.

“What?”

“Boris bet me in a poker game.” Her face clouded up, but she regained control while searching herself for a match. “He always treated me like an object, and I took it, you know, because of everything else. But that night, that was too much even for me.”

“You can’t smoke that in here,” Hannibal said, taking Queenie’s arm. “Let’s go outside for a few minutes.”

She looked a bit unsteady so Hannibal took her arm and walked her out of the cafeteria. The cigarette between her fingers seemed to give her strength, even unlit.

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