Robert Wilson: The Ignoranceof Blood

'How are you going to get to Fes?'

'Drive to Algeciras. Ferry to Ceuta. I could be in Fes by this evening.'

'We'll book you a room in the Hotel du Commerce. It's quiet, out of the way, and you won't draw attention to yourself as you would if you were in the Palais Jamai or the Dar Batha. It's still in the old town, but in Fes El Djedid, rather than Fes El Bali, where Barakat has his shop and the Diouris have their house,' said Pablo. 'What about Yousra?'

'I'll call her. She'll meet me in Fes.'

'Leave your car in Meknes, meet her there. The Hotel Bab Mansour has a garage. We'll organize a room for you. Take a taxi from there,' said Pablo. 'Don't turn up in a Spanish-registered vehicle; Barakat will have his informers in Fes.'

'Consuelo will be coming with me.'

'Really?'

'There's no question of her staying here.'

'Why tell her?'

'I already have.'

'Call me from Ceuta,' said Pablo. 'Go to the Hotel Puerta de Africa and ask for Alfonso. Tell him you're a great admirer of Pablo Neruda and he'll look after your border crossing.' Falcon went down to the forensics lab, picked up some DNA swabs and continued to the observation room to see Ramirez's first interview with Nikita Sokolov. He was waiting for the right moment to interrupt, but was also fascinated to see how Ramirez would play the Russian. They were still working their way through the preliminaries. The translator sat well back from the table between the two men. Sokolov leaned forward, a large white bandage around his head. His huge bulk made him look like a figure from a cartoon. His face bent down was oddly sad, as if remorse could potentially take up residence. Occasionally, when he'd become a little stiff, he'd hook his arms over the back of the seat and sit up straight, then his face would lose that look of sadness and become devoid of any recognizable human emotion.

'I'm just going to summarize that for you,' said Ramirez, concluding a fairly long opening statement. 'There are five murders that we can charge you with today. There are no questions about any of them. We have witnesses and we have your weapon with your fingerprints on it. And in the case of the first two murders we also have your blood at the scene. These killings are: Miguel Estevez and Julia Valdes in the apartment of Roque Barba in Las Tres Mil Viviendas on Monday, 18th September. And Leonid Revnik…'

Ramirez paused as Sokolov spat a contemptuous globule of sputum at the floor.

'Leonid Revnik,' continued Ramirez, 'Isabel Sanchez and Viktor Belenki in the Hotel La Berenjena on Tuesday, 19th September. You will be charged with all these murders later this morning. Do you understand?'

The translator did her work. Sokolov turned his mouth down and nodded as if this was a reasonable summary of a couple of days' work. He did not look at the Cuban woman as she spoke. His eyes were fixed on Ramirez's forehead, as if this was where he was planning his first assault on his way out of the room. Ramirez was extraordinarily calm. His interview style normally tended towards the aggressive, but he'd decided on a different approach with Sokolov, although the Russian did look impervious to aggression.

'Given that these five murders will put you behind bars for the rest of your life, I was wondering if there were any other killings you'd like us to take into consideration at the same time?'

Sokolov's response was very surprising.

'I would like to help you, Inspector,' he said, 'but you must understand that this is my job. I was an "enforcer" for a number of years on the Costa del Sol with Leonid Revnik and his predecessor before I joined Yuri Donstov in the same capacity. I was given the names of people I was required to kill, but I did not always remember them. It was just business. If you can be specific and remind me of the circumstances, I might be able to help.'

Ramirez was momentarily wrong-footed by the tone of this reply. He'd been expecting a belligerent silence. It made him concentrate on his adversary. Falcon began to think that inside Sokolov's brutal frame there must be a young man with a briefcase, a set of pens and an eagerness to please. Then it occurred to him that the last thing this sort of work needed was craziness. What it demanded was discipline, calmness, attention to detail and a clear uncomplicated mind. Maybe weightlifting wasn't such bad training for the work.

'I was thinking of Marisa Moreno,' said Ramirez, jogging himself back into the interview. 'You knew her, of course.'

'Yes, I did.'

'She was cut up with a chain saw.'

'As you've probably already gathered, that is not my method,' said Sokolov. 'Sometimes I have to satisfy the needs of others. The two who did that were animals, but they were brought up on brutality. They know nothing else.'

'Where are they now?'

'They are dead. They were captured by Revnik's men on Monday night and taken away to be… processed.'

'Was that why you and Yuri Donstov were in the Hotel La Berenjena last night?' asked Ramirez. 'Was that just revenge?'

'I will tell you things, Inspector, but I would like you to guarantee me one thing.'

'I'm not sure I can offer you any guarantees.'

'Just this one,' said Sokolov. 'I want everything I tell you to come out in court.'

'Any reason?'

'There are people in Moscow who should know the sort of a man Leonid Revnik was.'

'I think that can be arranged.'

'Leonid Revnik had the backing of the Supreme Council of vory-v-zakone in Moscow to terminate Yuri Donstov's operations in Seville. He was given this because he'd told them that Donstov had killed two directors on the Costa del Sol. This was not true. Revnik had executed them himself. You do not kill a vor-v-zakone without repercussions,' said Sokolov. 'Very quickly our supply lines of heroin from Uzbekistan were cut. Then Vasili Lukyanov died in a car accident last Thursday on his way to Seville.'

'So, it was revenge in the Hotel La Berenjena last night?'

'I did you a favour, killing Revnik.'

'Why's that?'

'He had agreements with people. Politicians,' said Sokolov. 'He'd keep Seville clean in return for big favours on the Costa del Sol.'

'Why did you have to kill Marisa Moreno?'

'She was at breaking point. She could not be relied upon to keep her mouth shut.'

'What did she know?'

'She knew people by face and name. If she found out that I was not working for Revnik any more, she might have felt that her sister was safe enough and would start talking to you,' said Sokolov. 'She would also reveal that she'd been forced to have a relationship with the judge.'

'Esteban Calderon?'

'Him.'

'Why did she have to do that?'

'Information.'

'I thought it was so that she could provide you with a key to the judge's apartment.'

'You might be right.'

'Did she supply you with the key?'

'Yes.'

'What was done with that key on the night of June 7th/June 8th this year?'

'It was used to get into the judge's apartment.'

'But the judge wasn't there, was he?'

Sokolov glanced over at the observation panel.

'His wife was there,' he said.

'Were you the person who gained access to the judge's apartment that night?'

'Yes.'

'Did you murder the judge's wife, Ines Conde de Tejada?'

'If that was her name, yes.'

'Why did you do that?'

'Because I was instructed to do so by Leonid Revnik.'

'Did you know why you were instructed to kill her?'

'Of course. I had to make it look as if the judge had murdered his wife, so that he would be removed from the investigation of the Seville bombing,' said Sokolov. 'One thing we didn't expect was for him to try to get rid of the body. Fortunately, I'd left a man watching the apartment and he was able to report the judge to the police… otherwise he might have got away with it. And that would not have been fair, would it, Inspector?'