“I’m not sure what I mean,” Dana confessed.
Ambassador Hardy thought for a moment. “I’m not, either. No, I have no idea what that could be.”
Dana said, “Some of the people who are working here in the embassy now—did they work with him?”
“Oh, yes. As a matter of fact, my secretary, Lee, was Taylor’s secretary.”
“Would you mind if I talked to her?”
“Not at all. In fact, I’ll give you a list of some of the people here who might be helpful.”
“That would be wonderful. Thank you.”
He rose. “Be careful while you’re here, Miss Evans. There’s a lot of crime on the streets.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“Don’t drink the tap water. Not even the Russians drink it. Oh, and when you eat out, always specify chisti stol—that means a clean table—or you’ll find your table loaded with expensive appetizers that you don’t want. If you’re going shopping, the Arbat is the best place. The shops there have everything. And be careful of the taxis here. Take the older, shabbier ones. The con artists mostly drive new ones.”
“Thank you.” Dana smiled. “I’ll remember.”
Five minutes later Dana was speaking to Lee Hopkins, the ambassador’s secretary. They were in a small room alone with the door closed.
“How long did you work for Ambassador Winthrop?”
“Eighteen months. What is it you want to know?”
“Did Ambassador Winthrop make any enemies when he was here?”
Lee Hopkins looked at Dana in surprise. “Enemies?”
“Yes. In a job like this, I imagine that sometimes you have to say no to people who might resent it. I’m sure that Ambassador Winthrop couldn’t please everybody.”
Lee Hopkins shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re after, Miss Evans, but if you’re intending to write bad things about Taylor Winthrop, you’ve come to the wrong person for help. He was the kindest, most considerate man I’ve ever known.”
Here we go again, Dana thought.
In the next two hours, Dana talked to five more people who had worked at the embassy during Taylor Winthrop’s term.
He was a brilliant man…
He really liked people…
He went out of his way to help us…
Enemies? Not Taylor Winthrop…
I’m wasting my time, Dana thought. She went to see Ambassador Hardy again.
“Did you get what you wanted?” he asked. He seemed less friendly.
Dana hesitated. “Not exactly,” she said honestly.
He leaned forward. “And I don’t think you will, Miss Evans. Not if you’re looking for negative things about Taylor Winthrop. You have everyone upset around here. They loved the man. So did I. Don’t try to dig up skeletons that don’t exist. If that’s all you came here for, you can leave.”
“Thank you,” Dana said. “I will.”
Dana had no intention of leaving.
The VIP National Club, directly opposite the Kremlin and Manezh Square, was a private restaurant and casino. Tim Drew was waiting there for Dana when she arrived.
“Welcome,” he said. “I think you’ll enjoy this. This place entertains the cream of Moscow’s high-society movers and shakers. If a bomb fell on this restaurant, I think the government would be out of business.”
The dinner was delicious. They started with blini and caviar and followed that with borscht, Georgian sturgeon with a walnut sauce, beef stroganoff and s’loukom rice, and vatrushki cheese tartlets for dessert.
“This is wonderful,” Dana said. “I had heard that the food in Russia was terrible.”
“It is,” Tim Drew assured her. “This isn’t Russia. This is a special little oasis.”
“What is it like living here?” Dana asked.
Tim Drew was thoughtful for a moment. “It’s like standing near a volcano, waiting for it to erupt. You never know when it’s going to happen. The men in power are stealing billions from the country and the people are starving. That’s what started the last revolution. God knows what’s going to happen now. To be fair, that’s only one side of the story. The culture here is incredible. They have the Bolshoi Theater, the great Hermitage, the Pushkin Museum, the Russian ballet, the Moscow Circus—the list goes on and on. Russia produces more books than the rest of the world combined, and the average Russian reads three times as many books a year as the average United States citizen.”