A PALE HORSE

As she neared the library, she heard raised voices.

“I am sure I do not know what you are talking about?” Max said from beyond the heavy oaken door. “The packages were delivered as requested and on time. I cannot help it if the man is a fool who cannot keep better track of his possessions,” Max said, and Maggie thought she could detect a bit of disgust at the mention of Olivier again. Maggie paused to listen.

“I hear that you have brought a whore back with you from America?” Someone, Maggie assumed it to be Lev Avatov, said. She was highly offended at being called a whore and was about to announce herself to the library when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Maggie looked up to find Leclerc, the diminutive butler standing behind her. He quickly put a finger to his mouth in a plea for silence, and she shook her head to let him know that she understood. She sidled out of the way as he knocked at the library door. Lev ordered the man to enter, but, instead of stepping forward, the man looked purposefully to Maggie, holding her gaze. Max, quietly and kindly, bid him enter and Maggie gained all assurance that he was indeed the younger Avatov’s man. She believed, as he strode past her, that she could count the butler Leclerc among her allies in this place. The man was asking about refreshments when Maggie, after bolstering her courage and plastering a smile on her face, strode into the library. Max’s granite face softened as she entered, and he beckoned her to his side. Maggie did her best to sweep gracefully through the comparatively large distance and arrived to take Max’s arm.

“Maggie Preston, Lev Avatov.” Lev reached forward and trapped Maggie’s outstretched hand in a firm grip. Maggie instantly felt queasy, but fought it back.

“Indeed the lion, Mr. Avatov, as your namesake suggests. That’s quite the grip! Do you break that out on all women that you meet, or am I special?” Maggie had been in similar situations and it was time for her to decide to demur or press. Both had their drawbacks- something about this man, this evil, pompous man, made her definitely want to press. She had once had to stick her hand into a clogged garbage disposal, and could remember the sensation almost making her physically ill. The slimy mess against her skin and the stench that invaded her nostrils was almost unbearable. This is worse.. She felt as if she had been violated and that even a thousand showers would not get her clean again. She looked fully for the first time at Lev Avatov, and the cognitive dissonance hit her like a sandbag. The man was beautiful by all worldly standards- tall and built well, with a handsome face. Striking dark Russian features and an olive, well-tanned complexion. Geometrically and geographically, the older gentleman was perfect. Perfectly straight teeth, perfectly coiffed and perfectly dressed. He was far more than the sum of his terrible parts. The evil in the pale blue of his eyes strained and clawed like a caged beast, longing to burst from its captivity to wreak as much havoc as time and the laws of physics would allow. The feeling disconcerted her so much that her carefully placed smile slipped a notch and she pulled her hand from his grip in reaction. She tried to cover it up by touching his sleeve and saying, “I’ve certainly been looking forward to this. Glad to meet you, Mr. Avatov. Max has told me very little about his father. You, sir, are a complete mystery!” She forced her smile back up to a thousand watts and watched Lev’s eyes for reaction to her words.

The gangster merely smiled and said, “I have only recently found out about you, but I was unaware that Maxim had brought you to Russia. How are you enjoying your time here?” he asked politely, although his eyes said that he wished she were anywhere else.

“Oh, Max has shown me the beauty of the Motherland! So grand! The palaces and the museums are awe-inspiring! I was truly impressed by the Avatov collection both in the Russian museum and the Hermitage. So many interesting and varied pieces! I was surprised at the eclectic nature of the exhibit! Tell me, Lev; was it your idea to group them that way? It must have taken a long time to gather that many different pieces together. Most curators would display them according to their historical era, thereby accentuating their historical significance, but the Avatov collection is separate from all others. A daring choice!” she told him. Maggie had been to every great art and antiquities museum, from the Guggenheim to Getty Villa, from the Egyptian Museum in Cairo to the Museo Egizio in Turin. He did not have a well- curated or well-displayed collection, but what he did have were a great many rare pieces, and she was interested in how he obtained so many that others could not.

“It has taken me many years to amass the pieces that you saw at the Russian Museum. It is not nearly all of my historic pieces, and I am afraid that the curator of the museum and I do not see eye to eye on how best to display them.” He wrinkled his nose in obvious distaste for the job that the curator in question was doing, but he let it be known with a dismissive wave of his hand that he knew better, and his puffery continued. “He does want to split the pieces up and put them in their corresponding era areas. I disagree. Do you think, Magdalene, that a collection of such treasures should stand alone?” He looked pointedly at her, and it was not lost on anyone in the room that the man had used her given name.

A name he shouldn’t know. She swallowed hard, but Lev continued as if unaware that he had said anything unusual and he was just seeking to ascertain her honest opinion.

“I want my pieces placed together in one big display so that everyone will know that I am the collector of history. What I draw to myself is always rare, always valuable, always useful, and always unique.” He had worked himself up into a bit of a lather. Maggie knew his type, but never had she known his type on this scale. Lev collected, alright, but it should be noted by anyone who would cross the man and his organization, that he always took from someone else to add to his collection. His wife, Maggie knew, had belonged to a powerful enemy. His estate had belonged to a descendant of Orlov himself, and his antiquities all had the same thing in common-

They were taken from someone else. His type has an insatiable libido for power and displaying that power is what they get off on. Max had warned her about his father and she felt it was best to play into his power trip. “I couldn’t agree more! The exhibit was grand and just as it should be. All of the artifacts were prominently displayed within the era they were created and all together made for an impressive arrangement,“ Maggie told him. He watched her closely as if judging the sincerity of her words.

Satisfied, he turned to Max and said, “See, Maxim? Even one such as your Maggie agrees that the pieces should be kept together.” Maggie winced imperceptibly at the endorsement and continued trying to butter up Lev.

“You said that there were better pieces; surely they deserve a place of honor in your collection? Why are they not being displayed?” she asked innocently. Lev took her hand from his arm and placed it in the crook of his elbow and led her to the settee. His touch made Maggie’s skin crawl once more, she couldn’t remember a time in which she had a reaction to someone this violently. Keep it together, idiot!, she thought, as she fought the revulsion threatening her.

“The better pieces are going through rigorous testing and cleaning processes. Some of the pieces are being restored and dated by the best minds in Russia. Some will go to the museums in the future and some will go into my private collection.” Maggie couldn’t help herself, and she smiled an anticipatory grin at the thought of having access to one of the pre-eminent and secret collections of antiquities in the modern world. Lev didn’t much care for the American, but he was not the type to miss an opportunity to show off what he owned-

So why not throw me a bone?, she thought. He returned her grin, flashing perfect teeth, and spoke quietly, matching her hopeful face.

“Would you like to see the collection?” Lev asked her. Max who was standing behind his father gave a slight shake to his head that Maggie saw when she looked at him. Maggie knew that refusing the offer, especially in their current circumstances, would definitely irritate the man, and she was okay with that. She glanced sidelong at Max, who gave an almost imperceptible nod of assent.

“Not right now, Lev, but thanks for the offer. Maybe later, if we have the time, but I know that Max has planned many exciting things for us to do before I leave.” Max relaxed his stance a little upon hearing Maggie’s words and she knew that what she said was okay.

“It will be a shame if you do not get the chance to see it.” Lev was not showing the irritation that Maggie expected, but he was speaking through teeth that, although smiling, were slightly clenched.

Good, she thought, let’s see what trips your trigger, you scumbag.

“Is that not right, Maxim?” he asked, turning in Max’s direction, and waited for an answer.

“I will do my best to bring her by before she has to leave,” Max said dutifully. Lev got up from the settee and turned to Max, his face going to granite, much like Max’s did when he was trying to hide something from others.

“Maxim, I will expect to see you tomorrow with an update on your trip to New Orleans.” Max, whose face was already like granite, hardened even more and he nodded his head to his father.

“I will be by tomorrow at nine,” he said.

“Make it eight-thirty. I have another meeting at ten,” Lev demanded. He turned to Maggie and offered his hand, which she declined to take, instead choosing to pretend to struggle with her gloves. “It was a pleasure, Ms. Preston. Please make sure that Maxim brings you by the house before you leave Russia or you will have missed the greatest private collection that you will likely ever see.” With those words he turned and left the library. Maggie thought it odd that the whole conversation lasted only a few minutes.

Not even enough time for Leclerc to return with the refreshments. Maggie had just finished that thought when he appeared at the door. He was only holding enough refreshments for Max and herself, so he obviously knew that Lev would not stay long. Leclerc put the tray of finger sandwiches and two herbal teas on the table in front of where Maggie stood and looked at her with a wink. She smiled at him and he glanced at Max who frowned at the display.

“She did well with your father, sir,” Leclerc told him matter-of-factly.

“Yes.” Max was frowning intently at the spot near the door that his father’s back had occupied moments ago, and it seemed to Maggie he was trying to recall something far away from him. Max returned to himself and centered his gaze on Leclerc. “Yes, tovarisch. Indeed, she did.” Maggie could tell that Max was upset by his father’s visit because he had slipped into an exaggerated Russian dialect. He only did that when he was really upset or he was trying to hide behind his Russian heritage. Leclerc nodded his head and left the room. Maggie looked at Max as he studied her.

“What is it, Max?” Maggie asked him, “Did I make a mistake?” Maggie was unsure of the look she was receiving from him. Max went to her and pulled her into a hug.

“No, Maggie,” Max told her, “I was very concerned when my father came by, he is not known to be so…” He stopped, searching for the correct word. “Magnanimous,” he finished.

“Is it a credit to you to say that you are not like him at all?” she said, taking his hand and steering his gaze to her eyes.

“How do you mean, kiska?”

“Well,” she said, smiling at him, “you are kind and loyal and funny and warm, and your father gives me the creeps. He’s smug, dismissive, and indifferent, and he uses people the way I use Kleenex. I’m sorry if that offends you,” Maggie told him, hugging herself and rubbing her arms. She was still weirded out over the feelings that Lev evoked in her at his touch. Max smiled at her anxious expression.

“I told you that you would not like him. He is not a nice man, Maggie. He has done bad things in his life. He did not always come by his ‘collection’,” Max made air quotes with his hands, “ethically or even legally. The people that he employs are as bad. Nothing but thugs that he has trained like pet monkeys to come at his command and do what he tells them,” Max said seriously.

“Why are you telling me this, Max? Are you trying to frighten me?” she asked him, slightly frantic. She was in full-on ingenue mode, and right now he needed to see her scared. “...Because if you are, it is working and I do NOT appreciate it!” Maggie finished, only exaggerating slightly.

“I only tell you this to make sure you know to watch yourself around him or any of his employees. They are loyal to HIM,, Maggie. They will not hesitate to tell Lev anything they learn about you that will help him,” Max said. “If you think that he will go easy on a woman or that he will not use you against me or vice versa, you would be wrong. That is exactly the type of person he is,” Max finished bluntly. “I need you to stay with me at all times, especially now that Lev knows you are here. I wonder how he found out?” Maggie had asked herself the same question, and she was sure she knew the answer. Maggie had decided since they were in Miami to keep a close eye on Boris.

I don’t trust him, and I know that he doesn’t like me or Max. She had not seen Boris since they landed. He had separated from them at the airport and at the time she assumed he was going home, but she bet her best Montblanc that he went directly to Lev. Max needed to be made aware that Boris may be disloyal. “Maybe Boris told him?” she questioned innocently.

“Boris knows better than to tell my father anything. He has been at the receiving end of his anger a few times. No, Boris does not volunteer to be in Lev’s presence any more than I do.” Max told her shaking his head. Maggie wasn’t so sure, she had seen the looks that Boris threw Max’s way when he wasn’t looking. She wouldn’t put it past him to tell Lev anything just to get Max in trouble.

“Am I going with you tomorrow when you meet your father?”

“No. I want you to stay here with Leclerc. I will try to find a time when I know that my father will need to be someplace else and we will visit right before it is time for him to leave. If we show up unexpectedly, he will not be able to cancel and you will have kept your word to visit,” Max said smiling. Maggie put her arms around Max.

“You navigate your father well! You have obviously learned all the tricks, Max.” Max hugged Maggie and bent to kiss her forehead.

“I have only learned one thing of usefulness from Lev,” he said, putting his forehead on hers and looking her in the eyes, “and that is how to survive. Survive above all else.” As Maggie gazed into Max’s crystalline blue eyes, she felt the tears gather for the little boy who never had a real father or a real childhood, but grew up to be a fine man. It was clear to her that Maxim Avatov was almost entirely a product of his mother.

Kind and generous. Loyal and upright; well, as much as he could be working for someone like his father. Disciplined, with a controlled maelstrom of power that he could marshall against anything that threatens me. Maggie was afraid that it was too late for her, she had lost her heart to the man standing in front of her. I’m in real trouble.