Julia Gousseva: Gray Shadows: Russian Historical Thriller

Maybe, that kind of thinking was a sign of old age creeping slowly into Nikolai’s life: the grass was greener, the snow was whiter, and everyone was better when he was young. Probably, he and his friends were just like all young people in the world are before life gets busy with work, relationships, and everyday routine. He shook off these thoughts: he was not even thirty yet, so old age was a long way from now, if he even lived to see it.

Nikolai punched in the door code, pulled open the spring-loaded front door, and entered the dark coolness of his building. For a moment, he debated walking up the stairs, but his leg was starting to ache, so he took the elevator up to the fifth floor.

The door to his apartment opened even before Nikolai could turn the key. Olga stood in the doorway, dressed in a red cocktail dress and high heels. And she looked mad.

“Olechka, are you back already?” Nikolai said.

“I’m back, and you are late.” Olga sounded irritated.

“Late for what?”

“The big corporate dinner party. The one you were supposed to come with me to.” Olga shook her head dismissively, turned around and walked back inside the apartment.

Nikolai followed her. “I’m so sorry, Olechka. Of course, I’ll come. When do we have to leave?”

“In fifteen minutes,” she said without looking at him.

“That’s plenty, and I’ll drive fast.” He came up to her and gently kissed her on the cheek.

“Wear something nice,” Olga said, her tone softening.

Nikolai walked through the small foyer into the bedroom, took a dark suit, white shirt, and a red tie out of the closet. He placed the items on the bed and stepped into the shower. Ten minutes later, Nikolai was in the foyer, all dressed up, clean-shaven, and ready to go. His dark curly hair was still damp from the shower, and his Makarov pistol was tucked away in the shoulder holster, away from sight. Olga used to argue with him about taking his Makarov to social functions, but has lately resorted to pretending she did not know it was there. On some things, Nikolai was not willing to compromise, and Olga learned to accept that.

Nikolai had been to many corporate events before, both with Olga and with Vasily Petrovich, in many different restaurants, but tonight’s restaurant was truly spectacular. And it was not just the immaculately starched white tablecloths, the elegant arrangements of fresh flowers on each table, the crystal chandeliers, and the tasteful oil paintings on the walls that were impressive and sophisticated. What was most striking was the large picture window overlooking the entrance to the Red Square and the street below. Standing next to the window, Nikolai felt as tall as the magnificent red towers of the Kremlin, and almost as powerful. Maybe, that illusion was intentional, and that’s what created the special appeal of the restaurant.

“Quite a sophisticated venue,” Nikolai commented to Olga. He felt out of place among these wealthy people, men in their expensive suits and women sparkling with diamonds. Over the last few years, as he worked with the wealthiest businessmen and their partners, he had developed a distrust for most of them. The more he learned about the way business deals were made, the less naive he was about free enterprise, at least in its Russian version.

“Do you like it here?” Olga said.

“It’s spectacular,” Nikolai said. There was no need to share his thoughts and spoil Olga’s mood.

Olga smiled, looking perfectly comfortable. Over the last few years, she had grown accustomed to this lifestyle. Nikolai had not. She never said it to Nikolai, at least not yet, but from some of the comments she made in front of him to her friends, Nikolai was getting a distinct feeling that she needed somebody more sophisticated, more stable, somebody whose job did not involve crawling around attics and basements or dodging bullets, and somebody who could make money, more money than Nikolai, without risking his life every day. And there were plenty of available men at these corporate functions.

One such man, dressed in an elegant business suit, enveloped in a cloud of expensive cologne, and wearing a charming smile, was heading their way. He was not as tall as Nikolai but handsome and well-groomed, with broad shoulders, probably a reminder of his younger, more athletic days. Now, his most prominent feature was a mid-riff bulge under his elegant jacket, a tell-tale sign of a desk job and too much indulgence at frequent social functions. Olga rushed towards the man, pulling Nikolai with her. The man handed Olga a glass of champagne and introduced himself to Nikolai as Denis Fedorovich.

“You’re lucky to have her,” Denis Fedorovich said to Nikolai, and turned his attention to Olga. “We can’t wait for you to start working with us. Please stop by the office on Monday afternoon, to get oriented and what not. Once the merger is complete, I will need a chief accountant. And I can’t think of a better candidate than you.”

Olga blushed. “I’ll be happy to join you.”

“And you’ll be even happier when I tell you about the bonuses I’m ready to offer you.” He smiled. “But enough business talk. Enjoy the evening.”

Denis Fedorovich nodded to Nikolai and headed towards the buffet table.

“What’s that merger he was talking about?” Nikolai said.

“He didn’t tell me the details. He said he’s too superstitious to say, but it sounds like a big deal. Two or three companies coming together. I’ll know more soon. The merger is scheduled to be complete by the end of the month.”

“You should find out the details before you agree to the job,” Nikolai said. “You have to be careful.”

“You’re too suspicious. Relax. It’s all fine.” Olga took a sip of her champagne. “You sure you don’t want to try it? It’ll lighten your mood.”

Another couple came up to them, making small talk and admiring Olga’s dress and shoes. Nikolai pushed his thoughts about the merger aside and tried to enjoy the evening. But when they got back home and Olga started talking about how much she looked forward to her new job as the chief accountant and what a wonderful person Denis Fedorovich was, Nikolai could not hold back.

“Do you realize how dangerous this job can be for you?” Nikolai said, interrupting Olga’s happy chatter and erasing the smile off her face.

“Dangerous? It’s an office job. You’re seeing felonies and criminals everywhere, Nikolai. You need to learn to compartmentalize.”

“But you don’t even know what merger he’s talking about.”

“What difference does it make? Mergers happen all the time, and it’s just one of them. Accounting is accounting. And he’s offering me more money. It’s a great deal,” Olga said.

“Being a chief accountant is never a great deal.”

“I realize I’ll have longer hours, but you have long hours, too, so what difference does that make to you?”

“It’s not about the hours,” Nikolai said. “If something in the books goes wrong, for any reason, the chief accountant is responsible. Prisons are filled with chief accountants who thought they were getting a great deal.”

“Again? Felonies and criminals everywhere? Why can’t you just support me and be happy for me, for once?” Olga glowered at him. “Good night. I hope the couch is comfortable.”

When Nikolai woke up the next morning, Olga was already gone. Nikolai had always been a light sleeper, but the post-surgery medication was obviously still affecting him and his sleep. He left an apologetic message on Olga’s phone, and turned on his laptop. Maybe, he could find out something about the merger that Denis Fedorovich was talking about. You could never have too much information.

He scrolled down the results pages, trying to make sense of them. Denis Fedorovich was a board member of a large conglomerate company that operated a number of different businesses, mostly retail and telecommunications. His conglomerate also owned some construction companies, a small medical research office, an environmental consulting company, and a chain of popular toy stores.