FORTY-ONE

I was back in the reflective garden with Vlad Smirnik, who was none too happy to be there.

The effects of his incarceration coupled with uncertainty had dampened his spirits. He appeared dejected as he collected himself to go another round with me. “You want more information? And you think I’ll give it to you because?”

“I’m your only friend.”

“With friends like you...”

“Look, Vlad. The more you assist in my investigation, the more receptive the judge will be regarding your petition.”

“My petition?”

“You want to stay in the United States, right?”

“Right.”

“And I’ve pledged to help you win that battle, right?”

“Right.”

“So why would you choose to defy me?”

“Because you agreed to help me based on the information I gave you earlier. Now you want more. What’s to stop you from seeking even more?”

“Nothing.”

“Excuse me?”

“There’s nothing to stop me.”

“So you admit it.”

“Listen to me, Vlad. I’m on your side. One of the secondary reasons I came here today was to get your grandmother’s and your mother’s names. I have a proposal for the District Attorney.”

“What proposal?”

“Answer my questions and I’ll tell you.”

Smirnik stood and stared blank-eyed at the garden. He spotted a dead branch on one of the English ivy bushes and broke it off. He started to pace. Then suddenly he stopped. “Ask.”

“Hidden rooms?”

“What about them?”

“Can you confirm their existence?”

“Yes.”

“A passageway?”

“What about it?”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know?”

“I only heard about it. I was rarely, if ever, inside the house. I was perimeter security. An outdoor guy.”

“How did you hear about it?”

“One of the Russians. A bodyguard. With a big mouth.”

“And he told you about hidden rooms?”

“He said his pharmacist friend told him about them.”

“His pharmacist friend?”

“Yes.”

“Did he tell you this friend’s name?”

Smirnik didn’t answer. He looked away.

“Did he tell you his name?”

“No.”

“Wrong answer, Vlad.”

“Look, I don’t really know any of the pharmacists. They kept to themselves. Very exclusive. Separate from the rest of us.”

“But your friend knew one of them. How so?”

“The guy had relatives in St. Petersburg.”

“What’s the guy’s name?”

Smirnik began fidgeting. “If I tell you, they’ll know it was me.”

“And you fear retribution.”

“They’ll know it was me.”

“You’re in no danger, Vlad.”

“You don’t know these guys.”

“Most of them are gone. Only a small handful are still in detention awaiting deportation. You’re not in any danger.”

“My friend mentioned only a single name. When he was tooting his own horn about how important he was.”

“What’s the name?”

“Yashin.”

“First or last?”

“Last.”

“A pharmacist named Yashin.”

“Yes.”

He stared at me hard-eyed. “Now it’s your turn,” he said. “Tell me your idea.”

“If I’m right, you may be an American citizen.”

“How do you figure?”

“You said your mother was born in Russia, yes?”

“Yes.”

“The child of an American citizen.”

“I guess that’s right. My grandmother was born in Cleveland.”

“And raised there?”

“Yes.”

“And she renounced her citizenship, but some time after your mother was born. Yes?”

“That’s what she said.”

“If it’s true, you’re entitled to claim your American citizenship.”

“No shit.”

“And I know just the lawyer to argue your case.”

“Who?”

“After I confirm what you told me.”

“So I still have to wait.”

“Yes.”

“And you could just as easily want even more than I’ve already given you.”

“Correct.”

“So, am I a schmuck or what?”

“I’m angling for the ‘or what.’”