Page 90 of Near Miss

“Toward the man who killed the Greek, or rather, who ordered his death.”

“And who might that be?”

“This person, Barrington, the lawyer.”

“And how did you come by this information?”

“Alexei predicted his death by Barrington’s hand or on his order.”

“That’s not evidence enough to suspect Barrington in his death,” Peter said.

“Is the Greek’s word not sufficient for you?”

“No,” Peter said, “but I don’t see why it even matters what I think.”

“It matters,” the main said, “because as our new leader, you must take charge of the effort against Barrington.”

“Leader of what?” Peter asked, baffled.

“Why of our family and its businesses,” the man said. “The Gromykos did not work out. It’s time for a Pentkovsky to lead the family again.”

“I cannot accept that,” Peter protested. “I had already expressed to the Greek my intention of leaving the group and governing my own existence. That has not changed. Besides, I do not believe Barrington capable of ordering a murder.”

“You are naive,” the man said.

“Perhaps so. But I am Peter Greco now, not Egon Pentkovsky. And I must decline any participation in the family’s affairs, and certainly anything to do with revenge against someone who has been wrongly accused.”

“We shall see,” the man said.

“We shallnotsee,” Peter said. “And I will not be pressed into replacing the Greek in the family, whose activities I wish to have nothing to do with.”

The man sighed, ignoring Peter’s protests. “And then there is the matter of the Greek’s widow,” he said.

“I’m sure he has provided for her generously.”

“He has provided money and the house,” the man said, “but those are not all the woman needs. She is young and beautiful, and she must be attended to.”

“I have a wife and family, and I attend to those,” Peter said. “She will have to look elsewhere for attention.”

“Then you must explain that to her personally.”

“Please explain to her on my behalf.”

“She is waiting upstairs to speak to you of this. It is ceremonial, on such an occasion. Go to her now. You will not be disturbed.”

Peter stood up. “Gentlemen, I thank you for your interest in me, but I have quite another life to live, so I must leave you now.”

“As you wish,” the man said. “We will speak further.”

Peter left the room, closing the door behind him. As he walked toward the front door, wondering how he was going to transport himself back to the city, he heard a voice from upstairs.

“Peter?” Olga called.

He stopped. “Yes?”

“Please come upstairs.”

He was going to have to explain his position to her and be done with this foolishness. He climbed the stairs and came to a half-opened door.

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