Michael Walters - The Shadow Walker

The footsteps came closer and now he could hear the faint sound of breathing, the rustle of clothing. Someone was standing immediately over him, though still invisible to his constrained vision.

He held his breath. Expecting almost anything. A gunshot, a knife, a physical blow.

But there was nothing. The footsteps stopped. The faint breathing continued. Drew waited, his hands gripped white, for what might come next.

“I’m afraid he’s tied up all morning.” She ran her index finger slowly down the page of the desk diary in front of her, as though she needed to confirm her statement. “I might be able to find you a slot toward the end of the afternoon.”

Nergui glanced at Doripalam, who looked back blankly. He smiled gently at the receptionist. “I don’t think you quite understand,” he said. “We’re the police. We’re investigating a murder. Several murders, in fact. We need to see Mr. Kartashkin now.”

Her mouth had dropped slightly open at the mention of the murders, but she still didn’t seem inclined to give way. “I’ve been told very strictly that he shouldn’t be-”

But Nergui was already walking past her and up the stairs to the first floor. She jumped to her feet as though to try to stop him, but Doripalam motioned her to sit. “It’s easier for everyone if you don’t get involved,” he said.

“But you can’t just come-” She looked wildly around her.

“We can,” Doripalam said, smiling. “We are. Incidentally, just to save time, where will we find Mr. Kartashkin?”

She stared at him as though he were insane. Then she shook her head as though realizing that there was little point in arguing. “He’s in the Boardroom. Top of the stairs, first on the left.”

“Thank you,” Doripalam said. “See how helpful a little cooperation can be.”

He bounded up the stairs after Nergui. Nergui had clearly caught the beginning of the conversation below, and so was now waiting at the top of the stairs, smiling back down at Doripalam. “Where did she say he was?”

“Boardroom. First on the left.”

Nergui strode off again, just a few yards down the corridor to a sturdy wooden door. A well-polished brass plate confirmed that this was the Boardroom.

Nergui, not one to minimize the impact of his entrance, pushed down the handle and flung open the door.

Four men sat around a large mahogany table, files and papers spread between them. They were all staring in astonishment at the intrusion.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” Nergui said. “Which of you would be Mr. Kartashkin?”

A large, bald man stood up at the far end of the table. “I am Kartashkin,” he said calmly. “I trust that there is some good explanation for this intrusion.”

“I believe so,” Nergui said, smiling faintly. He produced his ID card from his top pocket and waved it airily in front of the men. “Ministry of Security,” he said.

Kartashkin looked as if he was about to protest, then clearly had second thoughts. “I am not aware that our company is of any interest to the Ministry,” he said calmly. “I have not gained this impression from the Minister.”

Nergui smiled. “No, well, perhaps he does not share all his innermost thoughts with you. Perhaps you would like to give him a call to check?”

Kartashkin stared at Nergui’s impassive gaze, then suddenly looked down. “No matter,” he said. “I am of course always happy to cooperate with the Ministry in any way possible.” He looked around the table, smiling blandly. “Perhaps, gentlemen, you will leave me alone for a short while with Mr.-?” He glanced at Nergui.

“Nergui,” Nergui smiled. “And my colleague, Doripalam. This should not take long.”

The other men shuffled out, and Kartashkin sat smiling at Nergui and Doripalam. As soon as the door closed behind his colleagues, Kartashkin’s smile vanished. “What the hell’s this all about? I do not appreciate being invaded in my own offices.”

Nergui’s smile was as bland as Kartashkin’s had been. “This is a very important matter, Mr. Kartashkin. We are investigating murder.”

Kartashkin regarded him closely. “And what does murder have to do with me? I’m a businessman.”

“As you say, Mr. Kartashkin. And a very well-connected one. We understand that at least one of our officers was on your payroll.”

Kartashkin’s head jerked up. “What do you mean?”

“What I say.”

“That’s ridiculous. We don’t-”

“Delgerbayar, the officer in question is now dead. Murdered. Brutally murdered.”

Kartashkin rose to his feet. “I must ask you to leave. I’m not sure what you’re implying, but it sounds like the most outrageous-”

Nergui slowly raised his hand. Kartashkin, imposing figure as he might be among his own colleagues, fell silent. “I am not trying to imply anything, Mr. Kartashkin. I am simply stating some facts and seeking your help with our inquiries.”

Kartashkin slumped back down into his seat. “You can’t prove-”

Nergui lifted his hand again. “Mr. Kartashkin, we are both adults. Let us not waste each other’s time. You do not know what I can prove or not prove. I know that Delgerbayar was on your payroll. It may well be that other senior officers are also in your pocket. I do not know that, and at the moment I do not particularly care. But I do care about Delgerbayar because he is now dead, and I want to know why.”

Kartashkin hesitated, looking from Nergui to Doripalam and then back, as though hoping that some other approach might be forthcoming. Finally, he said: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Nergui shook his head slowly. “That is disappointing, Mr. Kartashkin. I had expected a more intelligent response.”

Kartashkin looked at the door as though expecting that someone would walk in and interrupt them. Perhaps, Doripalam thought, someone really would contact the Minister on his behalf.

“What are you proposing to do? Arrest me?” The words were defiant, but the tone much less so. Kartashkin had suddenly become a different figure from the blustering demagogue who had first greeted them. This was a man, Doripalam thought, on the verge of fear. But fear of what? This would not be a man troubled by the legal consequences of his actions. He did not seriously fear arrest. It might be that he was engaged in corruption far more serious than the bribing of a few police officers, but in this society foreign investment was always well beyond the law. Whatever he was afraid of was something far more troubling. As he watched Kartashkin, and saw sweat breaking out on his neck and forehead, Doripalam thought back to the board meeting they had apparently interrupted. They had caught only a glimpse of the grouping of men before they had responded to Nergui’s interruption, but Doripalam had the impression, from the expressions and body language, that it had been some sort of crisis meeting.

Nergui nodded. “If I have to take you in to police headquarters to get the answers I need, then so be it. It would be an unfortunate interruption to your day. I am sure you have much to get on with.” Nergui glanced briefly across at Doripalam, and it was almost as if the older man had been reading his thoughts.

Kartashkin shook his head. “I am not prepared to say anything on the record. If you want a formal statement, you will have to arrest me.”

Nergui smiled softly. “But off the record?”

“I don’t know.” Kartashkin glanced at the door again. “This is not a good time. I am in the middle of things.”

“We will keep you no longer than we need to.”

“I… Well, we are facing some difficulties.” He paused, clearly trying to think what to say. “You are right. Off the record. Delgerbayar was known to us. He did the odd bit of business on our behalf. Nothing corrupt-”