Fire and Ice by Sue Wells
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Act II
Jim Ellison walked towards his desk, the file he retrieved from records in his right hand.
"Captain wants to see you," Rafe greeted him, gesturing towards Captain Banks' closed office door. "He's got a visitor."
Jim dropped the file on his desk and continued down the aisle to Banks' office. He knocked, opened the door, then entered.
"Jim," Captain Simon Banks said. "You remember Inspector Major Vaslova, don't you?" He indicated an attractive woman with shoulder-length, dark auburn hair. She wore a tailored charcoal gray suit and was seated at the planning table, in the chair closest to Simon's desk.
The Inspector rose, offering her hand to Ellison. "It is a pleasure to meet you again, Detective Ellison."
Jim shook hands. "Call me Jim, please."
"And you must call me Katrina."
"The Inspector is paying us a courtesy call. She's head of security for the Russian exhibit that opens at the Cascade Museum a week from Friday."
"The Splendors of Russia exhibit?" Jim blinked. "Sandburg and I were just talking about it a few days ago. You're in charge of security? Congratulations, Katrina."
"Moscow wanted someone in charge who could handle the responsibility. It was doubtless a reward for my cooperation in the Gordievsky affair, also."
Jim's eyes strayed to Katrina's left shoulder, where she had been shot at the safe house. "You seem to be fully recovered."
Katrina nodded. "It is -- how do you Americans say it? -- water under the bridge."
Jim frowned; Katrina's unfortunate choice of idiom reminded him of the unsatisfactory conclusion of the case. Yuri, the Russian assassin and technology wizard, was shot by the Feds and fell to his death in the waters of the Cascade Dam.
"Why exactly are you here, Inspector?" Simon asked. "Are you expecting trouble at the exhibit?"
"Trouble? No, not at all, Captain." Katrina smiled. "This is our last stop on the tour. The show practically runs itself, like watchwork."
"Ah, that's clockwork," Jim corrected.
"Then, begging your pardon, Inspector," Captain Banks asked again, "why are you here, if there's no problem?"
"I am sorry, Captain, if I have given you the wrong impression. I am not here officially, I am here to ask Detec -- Jim a favor." She turned slightly to face Ellison. "There is a special preview party for museum supporters and people who helped with the exhibit. It is on Wednesday the fourteenth, then the exhibit will open to the general public on Friday. I would very much like you to escort me to the party, Jim."
"I'd be delighted to escort you, Katrina."
"Good." Katrina smiled. "It is a themed event, the Fire and Ice Ball. My limousine will pick you up at seven, if that's convenient?"
"Limousine?" Simon asked.
"Yes, as head of the Russian group, I must arrive with style." She opened the gray clutch purse she was carrying and extracted a red and white ticket. Handing it to Jim, she said, "My hotel phone number is on the back. Please give me a call tonight and we will complete our arrangements. I look forward to seeing you there." She turned to face Simon. "Captain, thank you for your time. Now, gentlemen, I must get back to the museum. We just arrived in Cascade last week, and I have a million details to attend to before the opening."
"Thanks again for the invitation, Katrina." Jim held the door open. "I'm really looking forward to it. Good-bye."
Simon waited until she was well into the bull pen. "How do you do it, Jim?"
"Do what, sir?"
"You just waltzed into the hottest tickets in town. Joan has been pestering me to use my influence to get her a pair of tickets to the gala. She can't get it through her head that a police captain's influence doesn't extend to international events." He snorted. "Besides, if I could get tickets, I'd use them myself."
Jim knew that Joan Banks rarely spoke to her ex-husband, unless it concerned their son, Daryl. "Guess it must be that old Ellison charm, huh, sir?"
"Charm, eh? Well, as long as you're here, Mr. Charm, what's the status of the Pinckney file?"
Before Jim could answer, the phone rang. Simon hit the speaker. "Yes, Rhonda?"
"Miss Timmons for you, sir."
"Put her on." Simon picked up the receiver. "Hello, Leesha... Yes, I'm free next Wednesday night... I'd be delighted to! I'll call you tonight and we'll work out the details... Bye."
Simon hung up the phone, smirking. "Well, you're not the only charmer, Jim. The lady just invited me to the Fire and Ice shindig. And my charm even works over the phone. Now, about that Pinckney file...."
Twenty minutes later, Jim left Simon's office and returned to his desk.
"Jim," Inspector Megan Connor asked as he passed her desk, "who was your visitor?"
"Katrina Vaslova," Jim stopped to answer. "Inspector Major Katrina Vaslova."
"Oh. She must've been here about that Russian Navy vessel, then."
"Russian Navy vessel?"
"Don't you read the papers? The Russians have applied for and received special permission to dock in Cascade Bay Harbor. They'll be here to haul the exhibition materials back to Russia after the show closes in March. It's an enormous exhibit, and extremely valuable -- historically, as well as monetarily."
"Hmm, you could say Katrina's connected to that vessel: she's the security chief for the exhibit. But she wasn't here on business, she invited me to the preview party next Wednesday."
"You're attending the Fire and Ice Ball?" Megan asked, her startled voice louder than she had originally intended. Detective Rafe rose from his desk chair and joined them.
"Jim, you're really going to the Fire and Ice Ball?" Rafe asked, envious. "The weekend's society column was gushing with rumors of who's going to be there. It's the social event of the month."
Jim glanced at the younger detective, who was sharply dressed in a tan Armani suit. "Trust you to know that."
Rafe grinned. "You're just jealous because I have better social contacts than you."
"Maybe so. Tell me again, who has the tickets?"
"Excuse me, boys. I've got an important phone call to make." Megan crossed over to the break room and entered, closing the door behind her. She sat down on the chocolate brown sofa, reaching for the telephone on the sofa's end table. Luckily, she had a phenomenal memory for numbers and she quickly dialed.
"Hello, Vince? This is Megan, Megan Connor... I'm fine, thanks. How are you and Gwen getting along?... Really? That's wonderful. I'm calling to ask you for a favor... Could you get me a couple of tickets to the museum's Fire and Ice Ball, next Wednesday?... You can!... Never mind who the other ticket's for, Vince. You're taken, remember?... Thanks a bunch, mate. Talk to you soon. Good-bye."
Later that Afternoon
"Rafe," Megan stepped over to Rafe's desk. "Do you have the Flanders case file?"
"No, why should I have your file?"
"I don't know... Let's see, when my favorite pen was missing, it was on your desk. When my calculator was missing, it was on your desk. Do you see a pattern here, detective?"
"No, I don't," Rafe answered, his eyes not meeting Megan's. "Now that could be interesting."
"What?"
"Our latest visitor," Rafe indicated a young blonde woman closing the Major Crimes door behind her. "That's Mikki Kamarev. She publishes the only Russian language newspaper in Cascade."
"So?" Megan watched as the woman approached, a light blue suit revealed beneath her unbuttoned raincoat.
"According to Blair, she's sweet on Jim, and vice versa." They observed the visitor as she headed for Ellison's desk, where Jim and Blair were conferring. "Wish I had Jim's hearing."
"Rafe, your problem is a lack of finesse," Megan said. She plucked a file from Rafe's in-box, then walked over to the file cabinet. She placed her file on top of the case, eased the top drawer open, and began tabbing through it. This maneuver put her within three feet of Ellison's desk, as intended.
"Mikki, how nice to see you again," Jim said.
"Is there anything we can help you with?" Blair asked, offering her a seat.
"Thank you." Mikki sat down. "This is purely a social call. Perhaps you have heard of the Russian exhibit coming to Cascade?" They nodded and she continued, "Good. I have tickets to the preview party, on the fourteenth. Would you like to go with me to the Fire and Ice Ball, Jim?"
Jim cleared his throat. "Ah -- I'm sorry, Mikki. I've already accepted another invitation to attend. Katrina Vaslova asked me earlier."
"Katrina --? You mean Inspector Vaslova? She is back in town?"
"Yes, she's in charge of security for the Splendors of Russia exhibit -- been touring with it all along."
"Oh."
"I'm sorry, Mikki. I'd love to've gone with you, but --"
"I understand, Jim. You accepted the inspector's invitation and you are a man of your word. It is one of the things I like most about you." She smiled, then turned to face Blair. "Perhaps my other guardian angel is free?"
"Why, I'd be delighted to go with you, Mikki," Blair said, after a startled pause.
"Then it is settled," Mikki said, rising from her chair. "I will call you later this week, Blair. Good-bye, Jim."
Megan watched as Mikki left. Then she slammed the filing drawer shut. "Bugger!"
Ellison's head swiveled towards her at the outburst.
"Paper cut," Megan explained, then snatched up the file from the top of the cabinet. She walked back to Rafe's desk, conscious of Jim's eyes on her back.
"So that's Australian finesse," Rafe greeted her.
Megan opened her mouth, ready to increase Rafe's knowledge of Australian vocabulary, then reconsidered. "Mikki has tickets to the Fire and Ice Ball. Since Jim's already going, she invited Sandy."
"Oh. Well, at least the bull pen'll be represented." Rafe said philosophically.
"No, you don't understand. Vince Deal scrounged up a pair of tickets for me. I was going to ask --" She broke off. "Rafe, would you like to go to the Fire and Ice Ball with me?"
He grinned. "I'd be delighted to, Megan."
"Fine, we'll discuss the details later. Now, I've got to get back to work." Megan started to put the borrowed file on top of Rafe's in-box, then she read the name on the label: Curtis Flanders. "Rafe! You did have my file!"
Rafe watched Megan stalk back to her desk, then he sauntered over to Jim's desk. "Hey, Jim, guess who else is going to the Fire and Ice Ball?"
"I am," Blair said.
"You are? Okay, besides Blair, then."
"Simon." Jim said.
"Simon's going? Besides Blair and Simon, then."
"Henri?" Jim guessed.
"No."
"Rhonda?" Blair offered.
"No."
"Joel?"
"No."
"Ricardo?" Jim guessed again, lips twitching.
"No," Rafe sounded a little impatient.
"Megan?"
"Well, yes, actually, Megan is going." Rafe decided to end their little guessing game. "I'm escorting her."
"That's nice," Jim said mildly. "Anything else?"
"Yes, I came over here to give you this." Rafe extracted a business card from his navy suit's inner pocket and handed it over to Jim. "That's the name of my tailor, Antonio. He handles rentals, too, so he can fix you up for the ball. Just tell him Rafe sent you and you'll even get a discount."
"Rentals?" Jim was annoyed. "I'll have you know I have a perfectly good --"
"Jim," Blair interrupted firmly. "Did the inspector say anything about the Fire and Ice Ball when she invited you?"
"She called it a themed event."
"Y'see, a Fire and Ice Ball has an underlying dress code associated with it: Everyone wears red, white or both. You can also wear black, as a secondary color." Blair continued, reflectively, "Ironic, really, considering it's a Russian event. Red for communists and historically, White Russians were the Tsar's supporters."
Jim put the tailor's card in his wallet. "Thank you, Rafe. This'll come in handy for us."
"No offense, man," Blair said, "but I'm using Campus Formal Connections. CFC's been outfitting Rainier's students for years, and Big Eddy'll skin me alive if he finds out I rented a tux from the competition."
Jim Ellison peered through the limousine's smoked glass window. They were about four blocks from the Cascade Museum, and he glimpsed a couple of exhibit banners waving in the distance. He glanced at Katrina, her red silk evening gown flowing over most of the spacious white leather back seat. "We're almost there." He smiled, admiring how the dress's deep V-neckline set off the ruby and paved diamonds of Katrina's choker. "You look stunning, Katrina."
"Thank you, Jim." Her right hand rose to her throat, lightly touching the choker. "It's real -- part of the collection, actually. Wearing it at the parties is one of the benefits of my position." She ran her eyes over Jim, decked out in a white tuxedo. The corner of a red silk handkerchief tucked into the suit's breast pocket, and the edged red ruffles of his shirt provided the only contrasting color to his white suit. "You look camera-ready, also."
"Camera --? Are there going to be cameras?"
"The local news crews will all be here, and the newspaper photographers, of course. It is why I told you we need the limousine, for a grand entrance. Most of them are not permitted inside, so they film the arriving guests."
Jim took a few seconds to dial his sight down, in anticipation of the spotlights and flashbulbs he would encounter as they left the limousine. The white stretch limousine glided to a halt and the right door opened. Jim exited first, then extended his hand to assist Katrina. She tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and they walked down the red carpet, cameras and flashing lights tracking their progress. The last part of the carpet covered a half-flight of marble stairs. Two attendants whisked open the center pair of double glass doors as Jim and Katrina entered the museum. They strolled past the darkened admissions booths and into the main corridor, Katrina's heels clicking on the green marble floor.
"That went well," Katrina remarked. "Now, as I told you earlier, all we have to do is stand at the head of the receiving line. It should take an hour or so, then we are free to enjoy the rest of the night." She smiled ruefully at Jim. "I should have told you more about the duties of my escort when I asked you out, but I did not want you to refuse."
"I wouldn't have," Jim answered, then they walked over to the receiving line, which was forming to the right of the museum's Grand Hall. The line consisted of nine other couples and Katrina efficiently introduced Jim to everyone. He recognized the name of the Cascade Museum's chairman of the board, and the names of a couple of high-powered business acquaintances of his father.
A few minutes after Jim and Katrina assumed their places at the head of the receiving line, the glitterati of Cascade descended upon them. Jim smiled politely, introduced himself and made idle chitchat with the city's wealthy upper tier. He tried to remain focused and present, dialing down his sense of smell so the vast array of perfumes and cologne didn't become overpowering.
Surreptitiously, he peeked at his wristwatch, disappointed to learn that only thirty-five minutes had passed. He glanced up from his watch and into a pair of familiar gray eyes. "Steven!" Jim's perfunctory grin turned into one of his rare, truly happy smiles. "Katrina," he tapped his date's silk-covered arm, "may I present Steven Ellison, my brother. Steven, this is Inspector Major Katrina Vaslova."
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ellison."
"I am honored to make your acquaintance, Ms. Vaslova," Steven said. Then he motioned towards the tall blonde at his right, dressed in a red sequined evening gown, with white latticework overlain on the bodice. "Allow me to present Miss Janet Owens. Janet, this is Ms. Katrina Vaslova and my brother Jim." They exchanged pleasantries, then Steven and his date moved on, and Jim greeted the next couple in line.
About fifteen minutes later, the Major Crimes contingent passed through the line. First came Simon, resplendent in a black tuxedo accented by a red velvet collar and a red patterned brocade vest. He was escorting Leesha Timmons. The African American model sparkled in a sleeveless red empire gown with a black and white beaded bodice. Blair was attired in a red tuxedo over a ruffled black silk shirt and contrasting white pants, his loose dark curls giving him a slightly Bohemian look. Mikki Kamarev's blonde hair was swept up in a bun, her creamy shoulders revealed by her strapless white silk gown. Her dress had multiple layers of red-edged flounces from the waist to the floor and a generous back slit for walking or dancing. Rafe made a distinct impression in a completely monotone tux: pants, coat, shirt and bow tie all the same, matched red. Last came Megan, her auburn hair in a sleek chignon, her evening dress a striking combination of sleeveless red bodice and floor-length white tulle skirt separated by a thick black velvet ribbon around her waist. The group lingered briefly, then disappeared through the tall arched entrance to the Grand Hall, which had been temporarily cleared of exhibits to make room for tables, chairs and a wide dance floor for the ball.
Jim and Katrina remained at their post until the last couple went through the receiving line almost half an hour later. Then they joined the ball in the Grand Hall. The museum's event designer had taken the red and white theme and never looked back, as far as the decorations were concerned. Red and white balloons abounded, the round tables were draped with red or white cloth tablecloths and contrasting white or red napkins, with red and white roses and carnations for the centerpieces. The enormous buffet held every red, white or Russian dish imaginable, from steak tartar, piroghi and Beluga caviar to jicama, strawberries and red velvet cake. The piece-de-resistance was the red and white tile dance floor, which covered almost a third of the stately room. A deejay with a huge array of CD's was discreetly situated behind the dance floor. The walls of the exhibit room were left unchanged, displaying the museum's well-known collection of Impressionists' paintings, barricaded by appropriately red velvet ropes. The actual Splendors of Russia Exhibit was housed on the second floor, as Katrina explained to Jim while they munched on the buffet dinner.
Katrina and Jim conversed about her extended tour of the US, with Katrina sharing several amusing anecdotes about life on the road with the traveling exhibit. In turn, Jim described some of the more memorable events in his cases over the past two years. They enjoyed a leisurely meal, pausing occasionally to watch the dancers from their VIP table, which fronted the dance floor.
A young man, dressed in a red tailed tuxedo and creased black pants, approached. "Forgive me, Inspector," he interrupted politely, "but we have a situation that needs your attention."
"This is Captain Nikoli Satsurov, my second in command," Katrina explained. "Captain, this is Jim Ellison." She rose from the table, bringing Jim to his feet as well. "I will rejoin you shortly. I apologize for the inconvenience."
"Take all the time you need, Katrina. I understand." Jim watched as the two Russians made their way to the entrance. As he was about to resume his seat, a hand touched his arm.
"Jim." Mikki Kamarev stood next to him. "Blair has been telling me about the customs of various peoples."
"I hope he hasn't talked your ear off, Mikki. Once Sandburg starts on a topic he's interested in -- and he's interested in pretty much everything -- he has a tendency to take over the conversation."
"Oh, we had a good long talk. One of the things we covered was your 'Sadie Hawkins' dance. As I understand it, the lady asks the gentleman to dance, yes?"
"That's right."
"Blair says tonight's ball is sort of a Sadie Hawkins dance, since I asked him, and the Inspector asked you..." She trailed off, then smiled. "So, Jim, would you like to dance?"
"I'd be honored." Jim offered his arm and escorted Mikki the short distance to the dance floor. They arrived just as the current song ended, and threaded their way towards the center of the floor. They stood across from each other, waiting for the music to start. The deejay had played a wide assortment so far, from Rachmaninoff to "From Russia With Love."
A solid wave of orchestra music heralded the next song. The orchestra faded to the background for a piano solo, then the couples waltzed elegantly to "Tonight We Love". Jim and Mikki, in their matching white suit and dress with accenting red ruffles, caught the attention of several other couples as they whirled around the floor. The song ended, and they danced to its replacement, the softer, more wistful "Lara's Theme" from Dr. Zhivago.
When that song ended, Mikki led Jim off the dance floor and over to a table towards the left side of the room, which had been claimed by the Major Crimes group. Blair glanced up from his conversation with Rafe and Megan. "Jim! I saw you guys on the floor. You were great, where'd you learn to dance like that?"
"It was my father's idea. We had to possess all the social skills, including ball room dancing."
The music took a dramatic change in mood, as the opening bars of Billy Joel's "Back in the USSR" blared over the amplifiers. Simon turned to his date. "Leesha, would you like to dance?"
Leesha grinned, exposing her pearly white teeth. "I'd love to."
Jim watched them take the dance floor, then scanned the VIP tables to see if Katrina had returned. She was not at their table, but Jim spotted her at the entrance to the Grand Hall. "Mikki, I enjoyed our dances. Remember what I said and don't let Blair monopolize the conversation. I've got to go, maybe I'll catch you later, at the exhibit." Then Jim strode off, to reconnect with Katrina.
"Am I rushing you, Jim?" Katrina asked as they strolled past the last case of Faberge eggs. She and Jim had waited until half past nine to start the exhibit, and had seen two thirds of the impressive, historical displays. They had made short shrift of the costume portion of the exhibit, Jim only lingering to examine Peter the Great's military uniform, replete with swords and several medals. The Tsar's elaborate camping equipment for campaigning in the field also caught his attention. "I do not mean to be. I have seen a great deal of the exhibit in the past year, and I forget that you have not."
"That's okay," Jim said as they stopped to admire a display case full of ceramics and china. "I've been rushing things a bit, myself. I'm eager to see the gem exhibit. I've heard it's incredible."
They slowed down as they joined a small cluster of people waiting at the doorway into another exhibit room. "It is incredible, as you shall soon see. I have seen this before, too." She indicated the traffic jam of elegantly attired guests. "The line always swells in front of the gemstone collection. When the exhibit is open to the public, it is even longer."
Jim peered through the crowd, spotting Sandburg's red tuxedo in the midst of it. He debated cutting in line, but decided that patience was the better choice. Eventually, they gained admittance to the next room. The walls had a few large icons hanging on them, with a long, narrow display case full of the unique or ancient icons preserved by Russia's rulers. Some of the icons were jewel-encrusted and gold-trimmed. Jim and Katrina examined the icons while the line inched closer to the two display cases full of gems.
At last, they stood in front of the first center display case, full of cut and uncut diamonds. There were about ten uncut diamonds, of a fairly uniform size. The placards in front of the rough diamonds proclaimed them to be from Siberia. Even the rough, uncut diamonds with their sharp, uneven sides attracted Jim's attention. Then he took in the forty or so cut diamonds that occupied the rest of the case. Most of the diamonds were displayed as single stones, a few were coupled together. The placards in front of each diamond gave the stone's carat weight and its country of origin. A preponderance came from Russia, but some were from India and Africa, as well. A few stones had an accompanying summary about the historical significance of the diamond. Jim carefully examined the multi-faceted diamonds, enjoying the fire that each diamond displayed. He honed in on the ten carat diamond he had seen at Rainier and tried to bump his vision back up to twenty times normal, for a closer inspection. It worked and he scrutinized the diamond, enjoying the stone's sparkling beauty at the magnified level. Then he moved on to another large, cut diamond, keeping his eyesight at twenty power. He scrutinized two more diamonds this way before something pressed down on his toes and he looked up, startled.
"I'm starting to think you're part magpie," Blair whispered, removing his foot from Jim's toes. "You're hogging the exhibit, man. Go look at the other case, now."
Jim nodded minutely, then walked over to the second display case. This case held the other precious gems: rubies, emeralds, sapphires, opals, even a handful of matched black cultured pearls. Jim admired the gemstones perfunctorily; they just didn't have the same appeal for him that the diamonds did. He paused to look at an uncut emerald from Columbia. It was easily the largest object in the case, and there was something about the deep, rich color of the six-sided stone....
Jim stood in the jungle, surrounded by greenery. It really was green, he noted in surprise as he scanned his surroundings. In fact, everything was green or greenish: his tux, his skin, the foliage, the sky, the very dirt on the ground.A large, green-black panther stepped out of the underbrush and approached Jim. The animal circled around him, then backed off slightly. Then the panther rose on its hind legs. By the time it reached full height, it had morphed into a human figure. Jim recognized the army vest, camouflage pants, and the face of his Spirit Guide.
"Why are you here?" the Spirit Guide asked in the same thunderous voice that Jim recalled from his last encounter.
"I don't know."
"Why are you here?" the man questioned again.
Jim shrugged. "I don't know, really."
"Then you do not need to be." The green world dissolved into white nothingness.
Jim blinked, and heard the reassuring hub-bub of the crowd, gawking at the Tsar's gemstones. He was in the museum, staring at the display of precious stones.
"Jim, are you all right?" Katrina asked, tapping him on the shoulder.
"Sure, I'm fine," Jim said. He located Blair over by the icons and said, "Excuse me for a minute." Jim stepped over to Blair and coughed to get his attention. "Ahem."
"Jim?"
"Chief, we need to talk -- in private."
"Now?"
"No, it'll keep til later tonight. Uh, you were planning on coming home tonight, right?"
"Jim, I'm with your girl friend. Of course I'm coming home tonight."
"Good," Jim answered, distractedly, "we'll talk then." He walked back to Katrina.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yes, everything's fine."
"So," Katrina gestured to the encased gems behind them, "did they meet your expectations? Are they not incredible?"
"Yes, quite incredible. I've never seen anything else like it."
Katrina took Jim's hand and they strolled towards the exit. "Good. Now, the last part of the exhibit is a portion of the Tsar's art collection, including some primitive daguerreotypes and other early photographs...."
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