Fly With Fire (12 page)

“Want a drink or are you
still officially on duty?” Mo pulled a seven up out of the dispenser.

“I wouldn’t mind a beer.” He
walked over to the bar, she punched the code in. She handed him the beer with a
small smile. She was tired now. Ready to relax and go to bed. Roddy had called
while they were still at Zack’s condo and informed them that the coliseum had
been cleared by the police. She was anxious to see him and everybody. Still no
news about Linc. No there was no word on when Ling’s body would be released for
a service. That would be a while, Zack had gently explained. Just rest, Roddy
urged, take care of her body, take care of her mind.

“It was nice to get out of
here,” Mo said as she curled up on the sofa. “I’m glad I got to see a little
more of the city than the hotel and arena. I don’t often get to see too much of
the cities where we perform. I should try to make a point of it.”

“I guess most cities have
their beautiful parts, as well as the grimy ones. What about Montreal?” He was
sitting in the chair opposite her place on the oversize white sofa. He was
making conversation while admiring the color brought on by the drive. He gazed
at the mussed hair she didn’t seem concerned about in the least. Would it have
mattered if they had met under different circumstances? If they were on a date?
She still had his jacket about her shoulders. He liked seeing her in it, nearly
swallowed by it.

She for some reason felt safe
draped in his jacket. His presence was a salve on her fear. “Montreal is so
incredibly beautiful you can take a postcard picture from almost anywhere you
are. There are three hills in the middle of the city with spectacular views.
They say it’s the Paris of North America and it’s true. I’ve been to Paris and
there’s plenty of grime to be found, however beautiful. It’s harder to find in
Montreal. Maybe because it’s a much smaller population but I guess it’s there.
It’s cold as hell. I guess that’s a sorry description…” She watched the smile,
the little laugh.

His teeth were even. His
smile seemed a little shy. Yes, he’s shy. Some might say his nose was a little
heavy, his jaw line too square. His features were just the handsome side of
ordinary. But his deep set eyes were striking. Intelligent with that
penetrating gaze as if he could see past any façade someone might erect to
conceal their true selves. They looked black in the low light with his reddish
brown brow prominent. He had a strong, tough looking face. But his smile
tempered the tough, wary visage and she could see him as not just the cop with
a gun. A bleak world view had not fixed itself completely on his face. It
wasn’t just tough and cynical about human nature. She had seen a gentle side.
The compassionate side. She could see him on a hockey field as a kid, kissing
his mother, playing with kids, and a flash of his leaning close, his lips near
her ear while he pressed his jacket on her for just a little too long as if he
needed to make sure it would stick.  Mo finished her drink quickly and
turned in.

“My baby, my princess, my
star!” Roddy in his leotards, his comb over bouncing as he gesticulated wildly
and threw his arms around Mo. Others gathered around hugging and asking each
other questions in a flurry of curiosity, concern, horror expressed. To Mo it
seemed like she hadn’t seen them in weeks. Zack stood back and listened
unobtrusively, heard the occasional insults about the police. “Now all of you
to listen.” Roddy repeated himself until he had everyone’s attention. “We are
all in the shock about our poor Ling. You know she want you to do your best to
overcome this terrible time. Linc has been released by the police and in
seclusion at undis…closed? location with his cousin. We will do best we can
without him until he come back. He send his love to all of you and ask you go
on with show. We all know it what Ling would want. The company, and I agree,
believe we not resume show for couple more days. We will dedicate show to Ling
at the beginning of Thursday night’s performance. We have two days to work hard
and make Ling proud. Any question I address now.”

“What about a funeral, is
there going to be a funeral?” someone piped up.

Roddy put his hands on his
hips and looked sadly at the performers. “The police have Ling’s…er, her…police
have Ling indefinite amount of time. The Company will announce arrangements as
they know more. We have send Mrs. Wong flowers and the condolence. The Company
will do everything to help Ling poor Mama. As you all know her poor papa passed
away last January. Company will make sure Mrs. Wong have all she need then
Ling’s insurance will be settled.”

“Do the police know anything?
How did they break in?” This was Misha in his mild Ukrainian accent.

“They think he stole the pass
key from housekeeper. That is why you all issued new keys. All codes have been
changed. They do not have official suspect but they have cleared all members of
company.” There were sighs of relief and comments of approval. “The police
still have questions. No one will be allowed to leave state. But we here for
two weeks! Where we go, uh?”

“Will we do extra shows to
make up for the ones we lost?” Deb, an aerialist.

“Si. Yes. Two on Sunday.
Monday night for sure. Company and Greendale in negotiation with next act to
push back schedule. Some musical. They will let us know.”

“Where is Claude? Has anyone
seen Claude?” This was from Nanette, a new stagehand. This was her first show and
she was known to have a crush on Claude. She was nineteen, a tiny, blond thing.

“You know Claude, always
late, there he is now.” Roddy waved with annoyance in Claude’s direction.

“Bonjour, bonjour! Hello
everybodeee!” Claude’s perfect body was incased in his leotard. He shook the
hands of everyone and kissed the women on each cheek.  Mo watched with no
emotion as Claude made his greetings. What had she been thinking? He turned to
her. “Belle! What you go through!” He took her hand and kissed it, slowly,
caressing it. She drew it away. Zack, standing near, tightened his lips in
annoyance.

“You’ve missed some
announcements Roddy had for us.” She turned to Roddy. If that’s all I’m going
to start warming up.” She walked away stopping to exchange hugs and comments
with other performers.

“Yes, yes, let’s all get to
work. Claude I fill you in in my office. Oh. Detective Burnham, Zack. I like to
speak to you, if I may. In a few minutes?”

“Sure, any time.” Zack had
kept a distance, not wanting to become the focus of questions.

“Ah, the policeman! Momo have
her own body guard! How are you Mr. Policeman? You be certain to keep my girl
safe!” Roddy steered the Frenchman away to Zack’s relief.

He had lost sight of Mo for a
moment and spied her talking to the tall Russian sounding guy. He walked over.
“Sorry to interrupt.”

“No problem, this is Misha,
Misha Severinsky. Meesh, this is Detective Burnham. Detective Burnham is going
to be keeping an eye on us for a few days.”

The men shook hands. As was
his habit, Zack sized the young man up. Russian or something near to it. Six
foot. One seventy five. He was slender but solid muscle but with the slightest
indication of a beginning paunch. Drinker. Early twenties, Blonde, ice blue
eyes, slightly pocked face, scar on forehead from corner of eye running
sideways to hairline. Gap between front teeth that need some work. Not an
unpleasant face, not a handsome one. He seemed a little shy. He’d seem boyish
if it weren’t for the glint of hardness in his eyes. He wore a sleeveless
leotard that exposed elaborate tattoos on his muscular upper arms. Zack eyed
the tattoos. “Those are interesting tattoos, where are you from?”

“My father from Kiev, my
mother from Boyestiev, little village not far from Kiev.” Misha said dropping
his head like a shy child.

“You speak English very well,
how long have you been here?” Zack asked in a friendly tone. Did he detect the
guy was a little uptight talking to him? A maid had alibied him.

“Since I was eight. Fourteen years.”
He looked at Mo who smiled warmly at him. He nodded and realized he needed to
make an effort at being friendly. “This one say allegiance to Kiev. My heart is
there with my father’s ancestors. This one support Chechnya, I support all
those who rebel against Russia.”

“Those are very profound
tattoos.” Zack actually found any tattoos silly. Like bumper stickers on
humans. Couldn’t people just wear a pin if they had to advertise their personal
views everywhere they went? But he thought pins silly too. “I won’t keep you
from work. I need to meet with Roddy and make some calls. But I’ll be in the
coliseum and if you don’t see me and need me just remember to hit one on speed
dial.” This he addressed to Mo, who had had her cell phone returned. “Nice to
meet you Mr. Severinsky,” he said with a nod.

“Misha, Detective…”

“Zack.” He turned away to
find Roddy’s office. He stopped a short distance away and watched Mo in her
leotard, climbing to the platform. Misha watched her intently. For some reason
this got Zack’s hackles up. Hero worship? Crush? He was young, but he wasn’t a
kid. In any case it was natural enough he might be starry eyed over Monica
Whitman. He watched her take a swing and swoop into the air.

“Zack, pay no attention to
Claude, he is great artist, but how you say? Idiot!” Roddy put his arm around
Zack’s shoulder as Zack thought of more anatomical descriptions of Claude.
Claude had been insulting, referring to Zack as a fascist puppet in a teasing
way. Claude just joking! “You do me, us, great service. I talk to the Mayor
Tyler and he agree with me you stay for duration of show.”

“I don’t know if it’s legal
for me to be appointed to be Ms. Whitman’s personal bodyguard on City time.
Especially since this isn’t my jurisdiction. I’ve been trying to get an answer
to that myself with no luck. I thought I’d take leave.”

“We geniuses we think alike!”
Roddy waved Zack into a chair. “Mayor Tyler inform me his lawyers say one day a
courtesy, more another scandal. He suggest a security company. La Cirque du
Celestial will look into. But Zack, we want you to be Mo’s security while we
are here. We trust you, Mo trust you. You take leave we pay you. On condition
you continue to reside with Mo. And be with her all times. I know, almost to be
married, right!”

Zack shifted in his seat. “I
don’t know if that’s legal either. I have to check. I don’t mind taking some
vacation time.”

“Zach, you check, take leave,
we pay whatever you say. But Mo trusts you now; we can’t bring in stranger and
disrupt her confidence. She is our star. She is worth millions to the company.
More important, we love her. I consider it very large personal favor you stay
with us for the time.” Roddy smiled his charming smile. He was a very likable
man. Zack felt warmer toward him all the time.

“I wouldn’t know what to
charge you, you decide. One way or the other, I’ll be here.” Zack for some
reason felt as if he had just stepped over a threshold.

“Excellent, my friend,
excellent! I have confidence that while you are with us Mo will be safe. And
she will feel secure! Her mind free to focus on her work. Thank you, thank
you.” Roddy looked up, “Ah! Luciana! Come meet Detective Burnham!”

Zack stood up and turned
toward the door. “Hello, Mrs. D’Mario. I hope you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you, Detective, I am
much better. Except for this horrible tragedy. Are you going to be with us a
while? My husband said he was going to ask you and he’s a very determined man.”

“Zack. I’ll be arranging it,
if nothing else I’ve got some vacation coming.” Zack made his assessment.
Fortyish and not happy about it. Five seven, one thirty five. Once a knock out,
still very attractive. He’d heard she was very unhappy to no longer be the star
but she had been in bed on migraine drugs at the time of the murder. A maid had
accidentally gone into the room which had a ‘Do not disturb’ sign out and had
not only seen her in bed but had been treated to a torrent of curses. Not well
liked, he had already been able to ascertain. Bleached hair, eyes pulled too
tight from a lift. Perfect teeth. He was aware that she was physically
assessing him as well but in a different way. Roddy, clearly madly in love,
took no notice.

“Well, Detective, we’ll be
one big happy family, won’t we?” She looked up at him from beneath lowered
lids.

“Si, yes. Zack part of our
family now! Keep Momo safe.” Roddy looked adoringly at Luciana.

“Momo being the most
important thing. Nice meeting you…Zack. Honey I’m going into the city to shop.
A car will be here in half an hour. I’m looking forward to seeing Michigan Avenue
again, Zack. Too bad about Marshall Fields but I can’t wait to see how Bloomies
fits into that gorgeous Medina Temple.”

“Are you well enough, my
love?” Roddy took her hand and kissed it. Foreigners, Zack thought to himself
but the ladies sure seemed to like it. He thought about Claude kissing Monica’s
hand and how she had tolerated it for just a moment before pulling it away.
Tolerated was the word.

“I think getting out of here
will do me good. It’s not like I have anything to do here.” Luciana D’Mario
looked impatient as her husband kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you for dinner.”

“Si, Luciana. Go spend money.
You always feel better with new handbag!” Roddy’s wife shot Zack a glance with
a little pout to her enhanced lips. He had a sudden need to count the panels in
the dropped ceiling.