6:00 P.M. THE limousine pulled up and two men, Egor Tarabaso and Godfredo Costa, stepped out. Crowds of spectators flanked each side of the entrance. Flashbulbs went off, but only a few. Though they were men of fame and fortune and immaculate in their tuxedos, Egor and Godfredo were relative unknowns under these circumstances.316Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPrbS7q2RZF
They walked across the red carpet into the entrance. They were stopped by a strange man holding a list on a clipboard. They gave their names. They passed an area where others had stopped to have their photographs taken against a backdrop of black and red. But nobody was itching to take pictures of Egor and Godfredo. They were ordinary people tonight, not much to look at. They had money. That was their ticket tonight. It was their ticket when fame failed them.
They took the escalator downstairs, where healthy crowd had already gathered. Hors d'oeuvres were passed by waiters in white jackets. The themed appetizers were elaborate----matjeshering-and-apple canapes, made with salted herring; onion tarts; kartoffel kloesse, plump potato dumplings, brunede, kartofler, delectable sugar-browned potatoes---and the Champagne and liquor flowed freely.
Godfredo and Egor looked around in amusement. This wasn't really their scene. They usually hobnobbed with traders and speculators and financiers. But they belonged here----they'd earned a spot tonight---and they might as well enjoy it.
Godfredo took a bit of an onion tart and washed it down with a swallow of Champagne. "So she's in Madrid," he said.
"If you believe Le Monde. And the authorities." Egor shrugged. "Never know with Mischa, do you? I must admit, I underestimated her."
Godfredo watched Egor a moment. He wasn't used to hearing the egotistical Russian concede anything. "You think we should be worried, amigo? Our globos are hanging out in the wind, are they?"
Egor looked around, ensuring that nobody was listening to this conversation. They weren't. Most of them were tipsy, if not drunk, and had less weighty issues on their minds. "I think all of the bases are covered, 'Fredo. Don't go getting excited."
Godfredo didn't appreciate the admonishment. He patted his jacket, the inside pocket that held his firearm. "No need to get excited when I have my lady with me."
"Great, 'Fredo." Egor rolled his eyes. "If we'd left things up to you, you'd have walked over to our girlfriends at the hotel pool and gunned them down. You almost ruined everything by going to Monte Carlo as it was."
"Did I? Maybe if you'd told me you had yourself a goddamn plan, I wouldn't have. But you kept all that to yourself, amigo." Godfredo guzzled his Champagne and pointed the glass at Egor. "Besides, by yourself, what did you have? A key card? A bit of Lindsay's hair and blood? You didn't have any plan for carrying it out." He shook his head. "You were just a jealous lover who wanted to pay back his girlfriend. I'd wager that, left to your own devices, you couldn't have pulled it off, when it came down to it."
Egor had to acknowledge the point. All those months after discovering Lindsay's affair, as Egor stewed and plotted revenge, he'd wondered exactly how he'd do it, or if he even could. Where Lindsay had mentioned her planned ladies' weekend in Monte Carlo, Egor thought he had a chance. He figured the trip was a ruse to cover Lindsay's scheme to spend the weekend with her lover. He played the doting fiancé, insisting on personally traveling to Monte Carlo weeks in advance to scout out the perfect hotel----which allowed him the chance, when the manager of the Hotel Metropole stepped out of his office, for Egor to slip the master key card---one that opened every hotel room---off the manager's key ring. Getting DNA evidence from Lindsay over the following weeks was easy: a plucked eyebrow from the bathroom sink; a fingerprint on a wine glass; a spot of blood on a cutting board when Lindsay nicked her finger while slicing a tomato.
He had planned it well. But he hadn't planned on Godfredo making his own trip to Monte Carlo to keep a jealous eye on Nicole Richie. He hadn't counted on Godfredo summoning the other boyfriends down, either----including Egor, who, unbeknownst to Godfredo, was already in Monte Carlo.
And he hadn't planned for anything that came afterward.
From the front of the reception area, they heard the clank and squeak of a microphone as someone removed it from its stand and spoke into it.316Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡgxqVpV5vZw
"Everyone," the man in French-accented English said. "If I could have everyone's attention, s'il vous plait."316Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZvqaX4up8Z
After a moment the roomful of guests had settled down and turned toward the front.316Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGSwImq0woe
"Thank you, one and all. Thank you for joining us tonight," the man said. "I'd like to welcome each and every one of you to the Cinema Lamarcke." 316Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdP74WRRsZZ
