Julia Gousseva - Gray Shadows - Russian Historical Thriller

“Looking for Vanya?” one of the young guards asked. “He’s in there.” The guard pointed to the door that led from the security office to the garage.

The garage was small, with the space for two cars, but only one car was kept there, Pyotr Alekseevich’s BMW. The rest of the space was taken by workshop tables, benches, and various tools. Vanya liked tinkering with things, especially rare and expensive things, so he enjoyed cleaning and polishing the BMW himself, never hiring anyone else to do it.

When Nikolai walked in, Vanya sat at the desk, fussing with wires, cable boxes, and light bulbs spread out in front of him.

“Busy?” Nikolai said.

“Just working on security lights. A couple of connections were malfunctioning, so I need to solder them.”

“I see.”

In the corner, a small TV was broadcasting a hockey game.

“Who’s winning?” Nikolai asked.

“Not my team, so nobody. Nothing but disappointment this whole game.” Vanya adjusted the desk lamp and leaned in closer to his project. “Just turn the stupid thing off.”

Nikolai walked over to the TV, clicked it off, and leaned against the wall to admire Pyotr Alekseevich’s silver BMW SUV parked in its usual place. The car was a beauty, with leather seats and a nice trim. And Vanya kept it clean and in top shape.

“Any news on our killer husband?” Nikolai asked, his eyes still on the BMW.

“Not yet.”

Something on the door of the car caught his attention. Was it dirt? Nikolai came closer. It was a small scratch mark, and it looked fresh.

“Did you see this thing?” he asked Vanya.

“What thing? What are you finding now, Sherlock?” Vanya asked without looking up.

“Come see for yourself.”

Vanya set his tools down, got up, and walked over to Nikolai.

“See?” Nikolai pointed to the scratch mark.

“Didn’t notice it before. What a shame.” Vanya leaned in and inspected the mark closer, tracing the length of the line with his finger. “But it’s not deep. I’m pretty sure I can polish it away. No major harm done, luckily.”

“Not yet,” Nikolai said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Vanya said.

“When was the last time Pyotr Alekseevich used the car?”

“Yesterday morning. Why?”

“Did you clean it after that?”

“In this weather? Of course. I clean it after each trip.”

“And you did not notice the scratch?”

“I guess I did not. What are you implying?”

“I know why you did not see it,” Nikolai said.

“All right. Enlighten me. Why?” Hands on his hips, his gaze intense and defiant, Vanya looked straight at Nikolai.

“Because it wasn’t there when you cleaned it. It’s new. And I bet it’s related to this thing.” Nikolai pointed to a large flower basket on the chair by the door.

“What? To the flowers? You’re not making any sense. I need to take this basket to the conference room. Just didn’t get a chance to do it yet.”

“Did you see who brought it?” Nikolai said.

“No. It was delivered earlier today, while I was out.”

“That figures.”

“What figures? How? Are you saying that whoever delivered the basket scratched the car?” Vanya glared at Nikolai.

“Not exactly.”

“I wasn’t here,” Vanya said, his tone changing from defiant to defensive. “But it’s addressed to Pyotr Alekseevich. That’s all I need to know.”

Nikolai picked up the basket, plucked out the note, read it, and nodded.

“Interesting greeting.” He handed Vanya the note. “Take a look.”

There was only one typed line on the note, no signature, and no return address.

Congratulations on the sale of the company. Safe travels!

“He’s selling the company?” Vanya said. “I didn’t know that.” He looked up at Nikolai, his expression registering a surprise realization. “He isn’t selling, is he?”

“No. And I can’t tell if this note is a threat or a warning. But it makes me want to inspect the car. Hand me the car keys, please.”

This time, Vanya did not ask any questions. He simply walked to his desk, reached into a drawer, took the keys out, and handed them to Nikolai.

Using the key instead of the clicker, Nikolai unlocked the scratched door and opened it just a crack. With his ID card, he slowly traced a line all along the opening. Sure enough, the ID card snagged a thin wire.

“You don’t have a telescopic pole with mirror, do you?” he asked Vanya.

“What’s that?”

“A device to search for objects mounted to the undercarriage.”

“What kind of objects are we talking about?” Vanya’s voice sounded nervous.

“I don’t know yet, and that’s exactly what I need the telescopic pole for.”

“I don’t have one, and you are really scaring me now. Are we talking a bomb under the car or something?”

“Anything is possible, but let’s not jump to conclusions yet,” Nikolai said. “Do you have a regular mirror and a rag? And a flashlight?”

“Sure, sure. Just give me a second.” Vanya bustled about the garage and brought a large paper bag filled with rags, a flashlight and two hand-held mirrors of different sizes.

Nikolai spread one of the wider and thicker rags on the floor next to the passenger side of the car, put the larger of the two mirrors on top of it, facing up, and slowly slid the rag under the car.

“Here, hold the flashlight and shine it at an angle,” he said to Vanya. “Like this. That way, the reflection doesn’t blind me, and we can both see what’s under the body of the car.”

Vanya did what Nikolai asked him to and stared at the car. Nikolai bent down and carefully slid the mirror down the length of the car by gently pulling on the rag. Soon, he saw what he was looking for. The wire from the door led to a small rectangular-shaped object mounted under the car. That object was not a part of the car.

“Vanya, see it? This box under the car? Whoever put it in must have been in a hurry and scratched the car.”

“A box under the car? Why?” Vanya said. “What is it?”

“Let me check.”

“Is it a listening device? Or a bomb?” Vanya exclaimed and stepped away. “Be careful, please. Should I call someone?”

“Hold on a second,” Nikolai said.

He took the flashlight and peered under the car. The last thing he and Vanya needed was to have an explosion right here, with both of them in the garage. For a moment, he contemplated asking Vanya if there was a bomb squad in the area, but as he inspected the device more, he changed his mind. Nikolai took his Swiss army knife out of his pocket, dropped to his knees, stretched his right hand under the car, and snipped the wire.

Vanya gasped. “What are you doing? It’ll blow up!” He rushed to the door.

Nikolai pulled off the rectangular object, its shiny wrapper embossed with the words Happy New Year . “It’s a firecracker! A stupid firecracker,” he said.

“So, it’s not dangerous?” Vanya asked from the door, his expression still worried.

“It’s not dangerous,” he said to Vanya. “But if Pyotr Alekseevich fully opened the door, like everyone does, the wire would have pulled the ring out and there would have been a lot of noise and smoke. It wouldn’t have killed him, but it would have really scared him.”

“Who do you think did it?” Vanya said. “I can’t imagine who would be capable of doing this or how they got in here.”

“I’m new to this town, so I don’t have too many theories,” Nikolai said. “Let’s think. You said you weren’t here when that basket was delivered, but do you know who was here?”

“One of the security guys. I can probably check to find out who it was.”

“What’s your protocol for deliveries?” Nikolai asked.