Michael Walters - The Shadow Walker

“I understand,” Nergui said, his face blank.

“I do not know why he was killed. But I want to know why. We have been having some business troubles.”

“You are involved in one of the Gobi projects, that is right?”

Kartashkin looked sharply up at Nergui, then nodded. “I think you know more than you are saying. Yes, we are involved in the Gobi.”

“It is not going well?”

“It is proving more difficult that we envisaged, yes. There is enormous potential, but the initial investigations are proving difficult. It has required more investment than we expected. Considerably more.” He paused, clearly wondering whether he had said too much.

“You are the major investor?” Nergui said. “Along with our government, I mean.”

Kartashkin hesitated. “It’s complicated,” he said. “We were the major investor, initially. It was virtually a joint venture between ourselves and your government, with a little investment and expertise from the US, the UK and Korea. But as the projected costs have risen, we’ve struggled to keep pace, so the other parties have increased their stake. Especially the US.”

“The US government?” Nergui said.

Kartashkin shook his head. “There is government investment and support, as there is in all the partner companies, but this is a private company.” He smiled, bleakly.

“But you have raised the required investment?”

“We have raised the required investment. But it has not been easy. There have been tensions.”

“And murders?”

“We do not know if Delgerbayar’s death is linked in any way-”

“Mr. Ransom the Englishman, was also on your payroll, was he not?”

For the second time, Kartashkin raised his head and stared at Nergui. “You are playing with me,” he said.

“Believe me, Mr. Kartashkin, I do not play where such matters are concerned. We know that Mr. Ransom was working for the consortium.”

“He was working for our British partner. In the north. He was advising on the opencast mining-”

“Mr. Kartashkin, please do not underestimate me. We know that Mr. Ransom had been carrying out some work connected with the Gobi project. We understand that he had been called in to verify some disputed data.”

Kartashkin’s eyes were wide now. “In Russia, I think we have ceased carrying out secret surveillance on our citizens. I can only assume that this is not yet the case here.”

“Assume as you wish,” Nergui said. “But we do like to be aware when visitors to our country are acting illegally.”

“Hardly illegally,” Kartashkin said. “And you will need to take this up with our partner. It was they who requested-”

“He was working outside the terms specified on his visa,” Nergui said. “But that is unimportant. We have two murder victims, killed in very similar circumstances, both apparently employed within your consortium. Such coincidences spark my curiosity.”

“I do not know what is happening,” Kartashkin said. “I am speaking the truth. I am out of my depth in this project, I admit it. I’m a businessman-a pretty hard-nosed businessman, I thought. I don’t always do things by the book. But this is beyond me.”

“What is beyond you, Mr. Kartashkin?” Nergui said.

“This project. There are people involved in this who scare me. On all sides.” He glanced at the door again.

“Even on your own side?”

Kartashkin leaned forward, his hands clasped together. “Yes, even on my side. We’re a legitimate business. But we needed more investment here to keep in the game. We’ve always walked a fine line.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re based in St. Petersburg. It’s not easy. Organized crime there is… well, it dominates the business world. Not all businessmen are criminals, but we all have to make accommodations.”

“I understand. And you have been making accommodations in respect of this project?”

“More than ever before. We were desperate. We’d already sunk so much into this that if it had fallen through we’d have gone under. And there was increasing investment from the other partner countries, so we began to be afraid of being squeezed out. So we had to look for further investment at home.”

“And you found it?”

“We found it. But only by doing business with people that we would not normally wish to go near.”

Nergui nodded, and looked at the door. “Your colleagues,” he said. “These are the people you are talking about?”

“Two of them, yes. The other one is my deputy. But the other two directors-”

“Do you believe they are responsible for the murders, Mr. Kartashkin?”

Kartashkin shook his head. “No. I mean, that would make no sense. Why would they want to kill Delgerbayar and Ransom?”

“So who did?”

“Well, this is what scares me. If we assume that the two murders are connected, then that suggests that they were committed by someone else in the project. Someone trying to harm our interests.” He paused. “That, at least, is how my new colleagues appear to think.”

Nergui nodded. “And they think this because this is perhaps how they would behave themselves?”

Kartashkin shrugged. “I do not know. But I know that they are taking the killings as-how do I put this? — as an affront to their honor. The way they talk disturbs me.”

Nergui nodded. “I think you are a brave man, Mr. Kartashkin, to state your views so openly.”

“I am anything but brave,” Kartashkin said. “But I am trusting you with this. I do not want more bloodshed.”

“I could insist on you coming back with me to give a formal statement,” Nergui said. “And I may yet have to do so. But for now I think it is better if we treat our business as concluded. You have told me nothing.”

Kartashkin nodded, the relief showing on his face. “Thank you. There is little else I can do, but I would help if I could.”

“I would give you one piece of advice, Mr. Kartashkin. Get out of this. As soon as you can.”

As they left the boardroom, they saw two of the men who had left the meeting now standing at the far end of the corridor, watching them. Nergui made a gesture of apology. “I am sorry for disturbing your meeting. I hope that I did not keep you waiting for long.” He walked slowly along the corridor toward the two men, who were watching him warily. One was tall, thin, shaven headed. He wore dark glasses even indoors, in the middle of winter. His stare was blankly intimidating. The other was shorter, his hair combed tightly back, his eyes bright and blinking.

“Routine questions, I’m afraid,” Nergui said. “We’re investigating some illegal prospectors near one of your sites in the north. I just wanted to check whether you had actually met the prospectors, whether you could provide any information about them. But Kartashkin says no. Is that your recollection also?” He gazed impassively at the two men, a faint smile on his lips.

There was silence for a moment, then the taller man spoke, scarcely above a whisper. “We know nothing of this. We simply wish for the police to enforce the law.”

“It is what we try to do,” Nergui said. He nodded slowly, as though musing on his words. “But thank you. And my apologies again for the disturbance.”

He turned and made his way down the stairs, Doripalam close behind, feeling the men watching him until he had walked across the reception and back out into the street.

As soon as they stepped back into the cold morning air, Nergui began to stride, with characteristic speed, back toward HQ. Doripalam hurried to keep up. “Nasty bunch,” he said.

“Very. I was keen for them to know that Kartashkin had told us nothing.”

“What do you think about Kartashkin? About what he said, I mean?”