Undercover Connection

The king is dead; long live the king, she thought.

This had shades of all kinds of Shakespearean tragedy on it. Apparently, Josef Smirnoff had known that someone had been planning to kill him—he just hadn’t known who. Maybe he had suspected Kozak but not known. And he probably hadn’t imagined that he’d be gunned down at the celebrity opening for the club.

She knew that Smirnoff hadn’t exactly been a good man. She had heard, though, that he wasn’t on the truly evil side of bad. He’d preferred strong-arm tactics to murder. He’d rather have his debts paid, and how did a dead man pay a debt?

Jasmine couldn’t defend Smirnoff. However, she believed that Kozak was purely evil. It made her skin crawl to be near him. She had a feeling he’d kill his own mother if he saw it as a good career move.

“Ah, you are here! Such a good girl,” Natasha said, slipping an arm around Jasmine’s shoulder and moving her down the hallway. She turned back to Jorge. “You come, too, pretty boy. You are a good boy, too.”

Jorge smiled.

Natasha opened the door into a giant closet–dressing room combo. There were racks of clothing and rows of tables with mirrors surrounded by bright lights for the girls to use. Before the show the day before, the room had been filled with dressers, stylists and makeup artists.

“So sad. Poor Josef,” Natasha said, admitting them through the door and then closing it. She made a display of bringing her fingers to her eyes, as if she’d been crying. Her face was not, however, tearstained.

“We are all in shock, in mourning today,” Natasha added. “So, let me pay you for last night and we will talk for a minute, yes? Maybe you can help.”

“Definitely,” Jasmine said. “Talking would be good. Mr. Smirnoff was so kind to all of us. It’s so horrible what happened.”

“Terrible,” Jorge agreed.

“So.” Natasha grabbed a large manila envelope off one of the dressers and took out a sizable wad of cash. She counted off the amount for each of their fees. When Natasha casually handed it over, Jasmine saw it was all in large bills. It seemed like a lot of cash to have lying around.

Natasha indicated a grouping of leather love seats and chairs where models and performers waited once their makeup was complete.

Jorge and Jasmine took chairs.

“You—you were very brave,” she said, looking at Jasmine. “I was behind the curtain, but I saw the way you protected Kari and tried to help poor Josef.”

“Oh, no, not so brave,” Jasmine said. “When I was a child... I was with my parents in the Middle East, and my father taught me to get down, and get everyone around me down, anytime I heard gunshots. It was just instinct.”

“I tried to get to Jasmine,” Jorge said, “because she’s my friend.”

“Of course, of course,” Natasha said. “But you two and Kari were the ones who were out on the runway when it all happened. What did you see? Of course, I know that the police talked to everyone last night, but...we’re so upset about Josef! Perhaps you’ve remembered something...something that you might have seen?”

Jasmine shook her head. “Oh, Natasha. This is terrible, but I was only thinking about saving myself at first. I didn’t see anything at all.” Jasmine wished that she wasn’t lying. She could easily be passionate because her words were true. She wished to hell that she had seen something—anything.

She had just heard the bullets flying. And seen Josef Smirnoff go down.

“I’m so, so sorry,” she said. “Of course, I suppose this means that... Well, if you need anything from me in the future, I’d be so happy to work with you again.”

Natasha smiled. “Jasmine, you must not worry. We will always have a need for you. We are a loyal family here! And, Jorge, of course, you, too.”

“Thank you,” Jorge said earnestly.

“But nothing—nothing at all?” Natasha persisted. “Tell me about your night, from the time you stepped out on the runway.”

“It was so wonderful!” Jasmine said. “At first, I could hear the crowd. We were having a great time on the runway, and I heard people laughing and having fun...and then, that sound! I didn’t realize at first that I was hearing bullets. And then...then it was as if I knew instantly. My past, maybe,” she whispered. “And I went for Kari, and when I saw Josef down on the floor, I wanted to help... He’d been good to me, you know? Then that man—a friend of Josef’s, I think—thought that I was trying to hurt Josef, and he...he tackled me.”

“And you were angry, of course,” Natasha murmured.

“Well, at first, of course, but it was okay after. He apologized to me. He told me he thought that I wanted to hurt Josef. He was very sincere. So apologetic.”

“He saw to it that we got back to Jasmine’s place safely. I liked him,” Jorge said.

“And you, Jasmine? Did you like him?” Natasha asked.

“After we talked, of course. He was very apologetic. He told me that he’s new to Miami Beach—new to Miami. He was working up north, but he got tired of snow and ice and had some connections to help him start up in business down here, and so...he was sad that his first time really heading to a fine event ended so tragically.”

“So. He made moves on you,” Natasha said softly. She wasn’t pleased, and Jasmine recognized why.

Jasmine was now a commodity—one controlled by Natasha—even if she wasn’t supposed to really understand that yet. This newcomer needed to go through Natasha—her and Victor Kozak now—if he wanted to have Jasmine as his own special escort.

“Oh, no, he didn’t make moves,” Jasmine said.

“He was a gentleman. Almost as if he was one of your security people. He just saw that we got home safely,” Jorge said. He looked at Jasmine. “I thought maybe he liked me better.”

“Oh?” Natasha said. “Interesting.”

“No, no, Jorge—he didn’t like you better!” Jasmine said. She knew that Jorge was smirking inwardly, and yet he was playing it well. They were both saying the right things in order to be able to stay close with Jacob as they ventured further into the world of Deco Gang.

They needed everyone in on this—Federal and local. Jorge had been right.

“You found him to be a nice man?” Natasha asked.

“Very,” Jorge said before Jasmine could answer.

“Jorge, I am sorry, I don’t think that he’s interested in you,” Natasha said. “He did express interest in Jasmine. But we shall see. Be nice to him, if he should see you or try to contact you. But if he does so, you must let me know right away.”

“Of course,” Jasmine said, eyes wide. “I know that you’ll watch out for me.”

“Yes, of course. We will watch out for you,” Natasha said. She smiled. “We are family here. So, now, come with me. There will be another event soon enough. We will mourn Josef, of course. But so many are dependent on us for a living, we cannot stop. We will have a memorial or something this weekend on the beach. You will be part of it. We are family, yes? We don’t let our people...down. For now, you will give Victor Kozak your...condolences.”

Give him their condolences.If this had been happening just years earlier, they might well have been expected to kneel and kiss Kozak’s ring.

She and Jorge both smiled naively. “Definitely,” Jasmine said.

They rose; Jasmine led them down the hall.

Antonio and Alejandro were by the door to the office. Jasmine knew that Sasha Antonovich had to still be guarding the door.

Natasha tapped on the door to the office. Kozak called out, “Come in,” and they entered.

He was alone, poring over papers that lay on the table before him.

“We’re so sorry for your loss,” Jasmine ventured timidly when Kozak didn’t look up.

“The police are still in the club downstairs,” he said, shaking his head. “They want to know about the balconies. I want to help them. I want to find the person who did this to our beloved Josef. But the balconies were closed off. Just with velvet cords, of course, but... Ah, Jasmine! We were all so enchanted with your performance,” he said, looking up. “And you, too, of course. You were the perfect foil for the girls,” he told Jorge.