Garry Abson - Motherland - A Gripping Crime Thriller Set in the Dark Heart of Putin's Russia

Mikhail stirred. ‘You’re smoking.’

‘Your detective skills are an inspiration to me.’

He re-arranged his pillow to lie on his side and watch her. ‘I’ve missed this. I’ve missed you.’

‘Me too.’

His eyes flicked to her breasts then back to her face. ‘Are we getting back together?’

‘I think so – I haven’t decided.’

He passed her the cup to flick her ash into. ‘What would it take?’

‘An act of atonement maybe? Could you give Romakhin’s widow your blood money?’

‘She despises me.’

‘Well, that’s a surprise.’

‘Anything else?’

‘You remember this morning I wanted you to do three things? Here’s the third: I need a lift to headquarters.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s not funny.’

She got out and gathered her clothes from the floor. ‘I’m going to take on Dostoynov. Just make sure Anton is safe.’

The interview room was older and dirtier than the one in the airport. It had a large paint-chipped radiator and a grime-smeared wire-reinforced window. Across the bolted table sat Dostoynov and Colonel Vasiliev – who had said little.

‘Major, what am I to be charged with?’ She rested her elbows on the table.

‘That’s not how it works, Ivanova.’

‘And what approach are you planning on using? The Reid technique gets results or you could try the “good cop, bad cop” routine.’ – she scanned the room – ‘there’s an electrical socket if you want to try a “phone call to Putin”?’

‘You shouldn’t believe everything you read in the Novaya Gazeta.’

‘I’m just saying you haven’t got any evidence so your only option is a confession. I’m a terrible story-teller, though. My nephew is always complaining. Last time I told him Koschei the Deathless I forgot what happens when it gets to Baba Yaga.’

Dostoynov turned, exasperated, to Vasiliev who merely smoothed his quiff with a palm.

‘Ivanova, let’s see what you can remember, starting with your movements last Saturday morning.’

‘Yes, Major. I went to interview Renata Shchyotkina, a domestic violence victim, when I was asked to check Zena Dahl’s apartment. I arrived there around eight fifteen and conducted a search.’

‘How did you get in?’

‘Her elderly neighbour gave me a key.’

‘But first you gained permission from Dahl’s landlord?’

‘No, sir. There was reason to be concerned for the girl’s safety.’

‘An insufficient reason. I will consider a referral to the prosecutor under Article 165 of the Criminal Procedural Code.’

Colonel Vasiliev interrupted. ‘It will be hard to justify a prosecution considering the Dahl girl was murdered.’

‘Good point, sir.’ Dostoynov’s eyes twitched in a micro gesture of annoyance. ‘Ivanova, what time did you leave?’

‘Expert Criminalist Primakov joined me between nine thirty and ten. I left shortly after to interview Miss Federova at her apartment.’

‘Another irregularity. Why didn’t you bring her to the station for a formal interview?’

‘She wasn’t a suspect at the time.’

‘But you were aware she has a criminal record.’

‘Not until later, as you recall, when I returned to brief the Colonel.’

‘So when did you get to Federova’s?’

‘Around ten thirty.’

‘And what did you discuss?’

‘Yulia Federova gave me a description of Zena Dahl’s clothing and her last whereabouts.’

‘I hear she had some designer items that took your interest.’

She tried to display no emotion at his inference that she had a motive to harm the girl. ‘Yulia Federova had a pair of Ulyana Sergeenko sunglasses and a trouser suit. After a moment’s consideration I decided they weren’t enough to kill her for.’

‘Is this funny, Ivanova?’

‘Only if you think Kafka wrote comedies.’

Dostoynov rested his arms on the table and leaned forwards. ‘You threatened her?’

‘No, it was civil. She made me a coffee; we spoke about ballet and how she met Zena.’

‘Then, when you returned to her apartment the second time you found it in disarray. A violent struggle had taken place.’ His voice took on a snide tone. ‘Yulia Federova was a witness. Wasn’t that worth reporting to me?’

‘I believe the struggle had been staged. Yulia claimed her father was sent to prison on false charges and thought the same might happen to her. I believe she ran to avoid arrest.’ She looked Dostoynov in the eye. ‘Innocent people get convicted all the time.’

Dostoynov matched her stare. ‘Nevertheless, Ivanova, the accusation stands that you failed to report it.’

‘Agreed,’ said Vasiliev.

‘Now let’s go back to that first home visit when you found those designer clothes in her wardrobe: a trouser suit and a pair of sunglasses. Obviously the girl was stealing from Dahl.’

‘They may have been gifts to thank her. Yulia was helping Zena to trace her parents.’

‘And you know that as a fact?’

‘Yes – I sent Sergeant Rogov to the ZAGS in Sestroretsk. He said the two women went there to look for a death certificate.’

‘Against my specific order to concentrate on the body’s identification.’

‘Zena was adopted so a DNA match wasn’t possible. I requested the dental records from Thorsten Dahl. There was nothing further to do.’

‘Then you should have asked for new orders. Likewise, why did you return to Yulia Federova’s apartment with Sergeant Rogov?’

‘Because Miss Federova hadn’t mentioned that she was helping Zena Dahl to trace her parents – I wanted to find out why.’

‘So why didn’t she mention it?’

It was the first decent question she’d heard from Dostoynov. Presumably Zena had told her friend not to say anything, but for what reason? ‘I never found out, Major. She had gone when we returned.’

‘There is a witness who claimed you threatened to kill her.’

‘He’s lying.’

‘That’s easy to say.’

‘It’s easy to make someone say it too. Why would I blackmail Federova? She didn’t have any money.’

‘Why did you enter her apartment without permission? This is becoming a habit of yours.’

‘I thought she was in danger.’

‘Enough,’ Dostoynov announced. ‘All I hear is lie after lie. The prosecuting authorities have agreed to open criminal case 144 128.’

‘For what?’

‘Extortion.’

She felt her voice rise. ‘You have no evidence.’

There was a knock at the door. ‘Enter,’ shouted Dostoynov.

Rogov was holding a portable TV by the handle. ‘Colonel… Major… there has been a development.’

She stared at him, daring Rogov to look away out of shame. To his credit, he did.

‘Sergeant what have you got?’ asked Dostoynov.

‘You need to see this, Major.’

He set the TV on the desk and plugged it in, then retrieved a remote control from his back pocket.

‘Rogov,’ she hissed, ‘not you too.’

He looked hurt by the accusation. ‘I’m sorry, Captain.’

The TV screen displayed static and he pressed a button on the remote control. ‘I found this logged under the case as evidence.’

A frown formed on her forehead then quickly disappeared. ‘It’s the camera footage from the Krestovsky Island Metro,’ she offered. ‘I thought it might show Zena Dahl or her killers. That was before I heard about the two boys—’

‘Save your excuse until we’ve seen it,’ Dostoynov snapped. ‘Sergeant, please?’

Rogov touched the TV with a nicotine stained finger. ‘The screen is split into four. The two at the top cover the platforms—’

‘Where do they go?’ asked Dostoynov.