Julia Gousseva - Gray Shadows - Russian Historical Thriller

Natalya seemed to be listening carefully as Pyotr Alekseevich talked about the layout of the field, the problems of delivering construction materials across the permafrost zone that melted over the brief summer months, the urgency of replacing some old sections of the pipeline, and the upcoming tender to find an environmental consulting company. It all made sense to Nikolai, but what did not make any sense at all was his own assignment. There seemed to be no need for his services, no danger for Natalya, and no opportunities for wild partying that her dad might have been concerned about. Upper Luzinsk was as isolated, quiet, and uneventful as a small town could be.

While Pyotr Alekseevich and Natalya were talking, Nikolai stepped outside and looked around. Pyotr Alekseevich’s office building was in the center of the compound of manufactured buildings, all placed within walking distance of each other on a large lot. The buildings were connected by walkways made out of packed snow and lit day and night by dim street lamps. Bright spotlights illuminated all entrances, probably to help employees find their way into the heated buildings through darkness and blizzards. In this climate, hypothermia would set in quickly.

The front end of the compound, with the main gate and the security building, felt like it was in the middle of town, at the intersection of Upper Luzinsk’s main thoroughfare, a two-lane narrow road leading to the airport, and a smaller street. The rear of the compound bordered the frozen tundra. The town was so small that it would probably take a brisk fifteen-minute walk to get from the central square to the wilderness of the tundra.

A gust of icy wind enveloped Nikolai in a flurry of thick snowflakes. He shook them off, pulled his scarf tighter, and kept walking. He left his cane in Moscow as he no longer needed it, but he could definitely feel the ache in his leg now. He hoped that it would go away as his body adjusted to the extreme cold.

The chain-link fence around the buildings was barely taller than Nikolai, not much higher than two meters. Nikolai could not spot any security cameras, or any other indications that safety had ever been on anybody’s mind in this desolate little town. He surveyed the white landscape, the line of the horizon lost somewhere between the snow and the sky, then headed towards the gate and the security office. It was time to talk to Vanya.

Nikolai knocked on the door of the security office marked with the familiar Employees Only sign.

“Come in!” he heard Vanya’s voice.

Nikolai turned the knob and stepped inside. A lone security monitor, no image visible on it, hung on the wall above a desk cluttered with newspapers and teacups. More security monitors, their screens blank, were on the desk itself. A small cot stood in the corner. The intercom system was mounted next to the door. A flashlight hung on a nail to the left of the intercom system.

Vanya sat at the far end of the room at a small table holding a pencil in his right hand. A newspaper with a large crossword puzzle was spread out in front of him. Vanya nodded to Nikolai and gestured for him to sit down.

“Greetings, Vanya,” Nikolai said. He sat down on a rickety chair across the table from Vanya. “How’s the puzzle coming along?”

“Not bad if you like Shakespeare, and I do. Is that what you came here for? To help me with the crossword puzzle?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“I gathered that much,” Vanya said. “About what? Your weapons again? It’s between you and Pyotr Alekseevich now.”

“No, not the weapons,” Nikolai said.

“Then what? Not about last night’s incident, I hope.” Vanya looked up from the puzzle and tapped his pencil on the side of the table.

“What incident?” Nikolai said.

“You know, the dead man,” Vanya said. “Oleg said you saw it, too.”

“The dead man at the apartment building?”

Vanya nodded.“Yes, the one and only. Everyone wants to talk about it: the local detectives, the Moscow detectives, even the federal investigators. And I already told them all that I know. I really have nothing else to say about it, and I don’t understand all the fuss about it. Much Ado about Nothing , just like number six down.” Vanya filled in a few boxes and looked up.

“I haven’t heard what you make of it, so why don’t you tell me,” Nikolai said. “I gather it wasn’t a heart attack.”

Vanya hesitated, then put down his pencil and looked at Nikolai. “Not much to tell. Nothing like that had ever happened before. We’re a small and quiet town, but freak accidents and events can happen anywhere, right?”

“Just tell me what you think happened,” Nikolai said.

“Jealous rage, nothing else,” Vanya said. “It’s too bad a man had to die over it, but husbands can be jealous.”

“He was involved with a married woman and the husband killed him?”

“That’s right. A tragedy of Shakespearean proportions.” Vanya glanced at the crossword puzzle, grabbed an eraser from his desk and rubbed it on the newspaper, erasing something.

“You like Shakespeare?” Nikolai asked, pointing to a large weathered volume on Vanya’s desk.

“Who doesn’t? That guy knew real drama and really understood people,” Vanya said. “And this newspaper likes to publish crosswords with clues about Shakespeare, so I use the book to look things up once in a while.”

“Doing an Internet search is faster,” Nikolai said.

Vanya shook his head. “That would be cheating. Looking through the book is more honest.”

“Did the police find the killer?” Nikolai asked.

“Still looking,” Vanya said. “He fled town together with his wife. I guess he must have forgiven her.”

“Do you know any of the three?”

“Sure. Everyone knows everyone here. The girl is a hairdresser, moved here from the fishing village up north when she got married. That was probably two or three years ago. Her husband, Mikhail, applied to work security for us one time, but never got hired.”

“Why not? Any problems?”

“Not that I know of. Mikhail was a little late in applying. The pay is good here, better than anywhere else in town, so the positions filled right away. And that was just fine with me. I never liked him too much.”

“Why not?” Nikolai asked.

“I don’t know. Just didn’t like him. Can’t really explain it. But leave it to the police. That’s in the past as far as our company is concerned.” Vanya opened his Shakespeare book, looked through it, picked up the pencil, and filled in one more line of the crossword puzzle.

“I hope so,” Nikolai said. “Are you sure there was nothing else behind the murder? No other motive?”

“What else would there be?” Vanya shrugged. “Just relax a little. This is not Moscow. We lead a simple life here. No contract murders, no exploding buildings, no fatal poisonings. Women are a scarce commodity here, and what happened is a result of it. Two men, one woman. Tragic ending. Just like Othello and Desdemona.” Vanya looked down at the crossword again. “And what was the other guy’s name, the one that Desdemona supposedly had an affair with?”

“Cassio?” Nikolai said.

Vanya checked the puzzle. “Right. That fits.” He wrote it down and looked up at Nikolai. “So, that’s exactly what happened. Desdemona the hairdresser had an affair with Cassio the security guard, and Othello-Mikhail killed him. Nothing else to investigate.”

“Have you read the play?” Nikolai asked. “That’s not what happened. That’s only what it looked like on the surface. Shakespeare’s story was much more complicated.”

“Maybe it was, but this isn’t Shakespeare here. It’s simple. Tragic but simple.” Vanya pushed the newspaper with the completed crossword puzzle aside. “What did you really want to talk to me about, Nikolai?”