‘He’s a mobster. Moved down from Brighton Beach about fifteen years ago. He’s got a nightclub in South Beach, some strip joints, a couple of steak restaurants in Sunny Isles, all money-laundering fronts for other stuff. His son Sergei runs the operation now Uri’s inside.’
Ty wiggled his fingers at Josh.
‘Hey, funny man, gimme another butt before you go, huh? Story time’s over.’
Josh stood up and threw him the packet.
‘Here, you knock yourself out,’ he said. ‘We’ll find our own way out.’
Sophie found she was trembling as they stepped back out on to the street. Squinting in the sudden sunshine after the dimness of Ty’s flat, she peered up and down the road. They’d been chased by Uri’s men in London, the South of France, New York state. And now they had run straight into their back yard. She might as well have painted a target on her back, she thought as she looked around anxiously for the taxi.
‘The cabbie didn’t bloody wait,’ she cursed out loud.
‘Can’t say I blame him,’ said Josh. ‘Come on. No loitering, start walking. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.’
A white cab approached, and Josh dived into the road to hail it. He took Sophie’s hand and led her to the taxi, putting his arm protectively around her shoulders as they sat in the back seat and she rested her head against him.
‘So now we know who’s after me. But this is only going to stop when we find the money, and we’ve got nowhere else to go. This is the end of the trail.’ A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away with the back of her thumb.
‘That’s not the Sophie Ellis I know,’ said Josh reassuringly. ‘Sophie Ellis doesn’t just give up. You’re a fighter. You’re not going to let these gangsters beat you, are you?’
‘But what can we do?’ she said, turning to him. ‘You can’t reason with these people, Josh. When they find out we don’t have the money, they’ll cut our throats too.’
‘They’re not going to touch a hair on your head.’
The way he said it – tender yet fierce, protective and strong – she almost believed it, and she was grateful for his words. But what good was one man against an army of Russian gangsters?
They lapsed into silence as they drove away from Ty’s neighbourhood and out on to the highway, the shops and offices giving way to motels, drive-thrus and Jiffy Lubes, whatever they were. When they had put enough distance between them and the ghetto, Josh leant over to the driver and asked him to pull into the lot of a diner.
‘Come on, we need to eat before we can plan our next move,’ he said. It was only when they pushed inside and smelled the sweet aroma of fresh waffles and bacon and coffee that Sophie realised how ravenous she was.
They sat in a booth at the end of the diner, with a view of the highway and the silvery gulf beyond, and quickly ordered an omelette for Sophie, and eggs over easy for Josh. The music was loud, old fifties rock ’n’ roll on the jukebox, and as she sipped at the black coffee the waitress had brought over, the normality of the situation make Sophie think more clearly.
‘If Uri killed Mike Asner, then maybe he killed Nick too.’
‘It’s possible,’ said Josh.
‘Probable,’ insisted Sophie. ‘You can see what’s happened here, can’t you? Uri’s men came to get me at the hotel and killed Nick when he wouldn’t tell them where I was.’
Josh gave a light, cynical snort.
‘What’s wrong with that theory?’
He looked unimpressed. ‘You’re still giving Nick the benefit of the doubt, aren’t you?’
‘Benefit of the doubt?’
‘A bit of distance, and now he’s this perfect romantic ideal of cheekbones and chivalry, giving up his life to save you.’
‘I didn’t mean that.’
‘Sophie, this is a man who took money to seduce you and extract information so he and Lana could run off with a fortune. He’s dead, and that’s sad, but you shouldn’t be dreaming up these heroic scenarios for him.’
Sophie was about to object, but there was some truth in what he was saying. She didn’t want to accept that Nick was a coldhearted con man who had willingly and brutally torn her life apart.
‘All I’m saying is it’s one version of events that could have happened. And because of that, we should call Inspector Fox and tell him. Remember, I don’t want to be the only suspect in Nick’s murder, Josh.’
Looking up, she saw that Josh was tensed, his eyes darting around, on full alert.