Hidden Moon

3

“I don’t recognize any of them.” She put the list down on the table and looked at me coolly, defying me to contradict her.

“Naturally, it’s a big country, sixteen million people, maybe more. No one could be expected to know everyone, certainly not all the top bankers.” I nodded and smiled. No sense pretending I believed her. “Especially not you, someone interested in banking, I mean. You were probably focusing on other things at the time.”

She picked the list up again and studied it. “A few names, one or two may have been mentioned, I may have heard someone say something about them. What difference does it make?”

“Funny, I thought I had mentioned to you that this is an investigation. I get to ask you, and I don’t have to tell you why. That’s how it’s done. It’s a regular, accepted pattern in most places in the world, and we have adopted it.”

“Why all the interest in Kazakhstan?”

“Ah, tut! I told you-the pattern.”

“We’ll have to continue some other time with your pattern, Inspector. The bank is being audited tomorrow, and I have many papers to prepare.”

“Not unless you answer my questions, you don’t have anything to prepare. You still can’t seem to get it. We don’t have a lot of bank robberies in this town. So we don’t just shrug them off and say, oh, well, there goes another truckload of money. And we don’t just run down suspects and blast them to kingdom come in gun battles in cemeteries.” Her eyes flashed for an instant; it could have been a glint of sunlight off a passing car, but it wasn’t. She’d heard about the shootout in her country, the one connected with the bank robbery, and she knew what I was getting at. Maybe now she would start to cooperate.

“Whom do you know from Kazakh banking circles with a residence outside of the country? I’m not asking you to betray anyone, Miss Chon. You don’t have to tell me how they got the money. Actually, I don’t care how they got the money. I’m just following a line of thought. Do you mind?”

“Not at all, Inspector. I just don’t see the relevance, that’s all.” She fell silent, in a sullen sort of way.

I let her stew for a minute or so. While we waited, I found a piece of wood in my pocket, an old piece of Siberian elm I’d forgotten I had. Not very interesting wood, too needy, too eager to please; it took any shape you wanted to give it. It gives you a sense of being smart and in charge, not good on this case-and especially not good when dealing with Miss Chon. I put it back. “Let’s make it simple. Has anyone on this list moved out of the country, taken a pile of cash and gone overseas?”

“I wouldn’t know about piles of cash. A few of them have gone abroad, yes. One moved to New York, I heard somewhere.”

“Somewhere you heard someone moved to New York. That’s good, that’s very helpful.” I paused. “Expensive city, New York, that’s what they say. Must cost a lot to live there.”

She smiled. “Maybe for the working masses, Inspector, but not for a banker.”

“You wouldn’t know the name of this fellow who moved to New York?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do that, I’d be very grateful.” I wasn’t so interested in Kazakh bankers, but I wanted to get her in the habit of answering my questions. She wasn’t there yet, and I didn’t know much about her habits. I decided to change the subject. Maybe it would put her off balance. “You ever go out to clubs? Ever been to a place called Club Blue?”

“We already discussed this.” The lady had a perfect center of gravity. She also had a better memory than I did.

“Is the owner there a friend of yours?” The image of the owner walking out of the bar with a couple of toughs and, so far as I knew, not returning didn’t fill me with happy thoughts. The little bartender didn’t seem worried, but he didn’t seem the sort who worried about much more than his own skin. If looking the other way when his boss disappeared was required, he could obviously do it. Once his cheeks stopped smarting, I’d have to go back to talk to him again.

“No. I don’t know the owner.” She was a good liar, very natural, but this resonated in a funny way. I had to think maybe she knew him pretty well.

“You told me he had an account.”

“He did. That doesn’t mean I know him.” This second time it almost came out more believable.

“The first time I asked you, when we were having drinks, you said he ‘had’ an account. Why ‘had’?”

“I didn’t realize you hung on my every word, Inspector.”

“Why ‘had’?”

“He closed it.”

“Is that so?”

“Anything else we need to discuss before I get back to my work?”

“He’s disappeared. Did you know that?”

She didn’t pale or take a funny breath, but she may have swallowed a little strangely, sort of out of sequence. It was difficult to be sure, because she was Kazakh, and I didn’t really know what Kazakh women did when they were surprised, or shaken. I shrugged. “Too bad. I’ll bet he could have sliced bread with the creases on his trousers. He promised me a drink. I guess that’s out now.” I stood up. “Well, I’m sure we’ll be running into each other again, Miss Chon. Call me if you remember the name of your friend in New York.”