Death Roe

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Authors: Joseph Heywood
afternoon.”
    â€œI’m going to lock the room. I gave you a key, right?”
    â€œYep. You going to be there?”
    â€œYep, but I’m going to try to get permission to go to Alaska.”
    â€œOkay. See you after I fetch Leukonovich and we grab some breakfast.”
    Service called the chief at home and brought him up to speed. “I need to go to Alaska to see a man.”
    â€œYour investigation, your decision.”
    â€œWhat kind of budget do I have?”
    â€œI’m working on that.” The chief gave him an account number to charge his travel and expenses, adding, “That’s probably temporary. I’ll talk to you soon about a budget.”
    Service was in the conference room going through names when Rogers and Leukonovich appeared. Rogers went right to work, but Leukonovich got a cup of coffee, came over to him, and touched his shoulder. “Can we talk outside?”
    â€œIt’s colder this morning than last night.”
    They stepped outside and she said, “I would beg a cigarette.”
    Service handed her the pack. She fumbled trying to light it, took a long pull, and exhaled. “Zhenya wonders why you stay in a low-level government position.”
    â€œBeg your pardon?”
    â€œYou are a wealthy man. You could use your time more productively.”
    It took a moment for what she was saying to register. “You ran a background check on me?”
    â€œZhenya makes it a point to know the people she is to work with.”
    â€œIs that legal?” He felt angry, but her straightforward approach had put him on his heels.
    She shrugged. “Zhenya thinks is odd that a man of such means would be doing this work.”
    â€œI haven’t always had ‘such means,’ ” he said.
    â€œYes, but the question remains.”
    â€œI like the work?” he offered.
    She dropped the cigarette and stepped on it. “You are an interesting man, Detective. Zhenya finds few men interesting. I sense in you a combination of zealotry and passion that intrigues me.”
    Was she hitting on him, and if so, how was he supposed to respond?
    He managed a grin. “Kind of cold out here.”
    â€œZhenya feels no cold in your presence,” she said, waiting for him to open the door. When she moved to step by him, she stumbled against him and held the contact before recovering and walking ahead as if they had not even talked. When he found himself staring at her behind, he rolled his eyes and cursed himself quietly.
    Halfway to the conference room she turned around and came back toward him. “To be entirely forthcoming, Zhenya would entertain invitations to fornicate, Detective, but you should be forewarned that as a wealthy man, you are going to have females and all kinds of people trying to take your money. You must learn to be very, very cautious.”
    Her off-the-wall declaration finished, Leukonovich pivoted and went to the conference room, leaving him in the hallway with his mouth hanging open.

12
    Saturday, October 23, 2004
    ANCHORAGE, ALASKA
    The city reminded him of a Copper Country town—weary, worn, beat-up, and filled with feral people genetically wired to survive. He checked into a small hotel called Slimers. His room reeked of water mixed with vinegar and had the mottled color scheme of a rotten stump. He had gotten the phone number of Andriaitis from a group called United Fishermen of Alaska. Andriaitis hadn’t seemed overly interested in talking, but had agreed to it so long as Service would “bring your sorry ass up from the Outside.” The chief approved the trip without questions, but Rogers got held back in New York for unspecified reasons—budget, maybe.
    Service called Andriaitis from Michigan and again from the airport in Anchorage, and arranged to meet him at a joint called Polarpalooza, a converted warehouse with a hundred-foot-long bar and wooden floors worn to the grain by too many calked boots

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