Reginald Hill - There are No Ghosts in the Soviet Union

These stories are entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in them are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Harper An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

This edition 2007

First published in Great Britain by Collins Crime Club 1987

Copyright © Reginald Hill 1987

Reginald Hill asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

All rights reserved under International and PanAmerican Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

HarperCollins Publishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication.

Source ISBN: 9780007262984

Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2015 ISBN: 9780007370337

Version: 2015-09-16

Cover

Title Page REGINALD HILL THERE ARE NO GHOSTS IN THE SOVIET UNION

Copyright Copyright Copyright There are no Ghosts in The Soviet Union Bring Back the Cat! The Bull Ring Auteur Theory Poor Emma Crowded Hour Keep Reading About the Author By Reginald Hill About the Publisher These stories are entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in them are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. Harper An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk This edition 2007 First published in Great Britain by Collins Crime Club 1987 Copyright © Reginald Hill 1987 Reginald Hill asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library All rights reserved under International and PanAmerican Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. HarperCollins Publishers has made every reasonable effort to ensure that any picture content and written content in this ebook has been included or removed in accordance with the contractual and technological constraints in operation at the time of publication. Source ISBN: 9780007262984 Ebook Edition © OCTOBER 2015 ISBN: 9780007370337 Version: 2015-09-16

There are no Ghosts in The Soviet Union

Bring Back the Cat!

The Bull Ring

Auteur Theory

Poor Emma

Crowded Hour

Keep Reading

About the Author

By Reginald Hill

About the Publisher

1

For Inspector Lev Chislenko, the affair began on Friday, the thirteenth of July, in a graveyard, but he did not at first think this unlucky.

A man had been spotted behaving suspiciously in the Novodevichy Cemetery which is only a block away from the Gorodok Building. Chislenko answered the call and recognized the man immediately. His name was Starov and he was a black marketeer. He was also a cocky little bastard.

‘What are you doing in the cemetery, Starov?’ asked Chislenko.

‘I like to go places where all men are truly equal,’ replied Starov. ‘I’m thinking of joining the Party.’

‘Why are you carrying two thousand roubles?’

‘It’s money I’ve been collecting for our local old folk’s holiday fund.’

‘Why did you try to run away when the custodian approached you?’

‘He didn’t approach. He jumped out from behind a big marble angel. It’s Friday the thirteenth, remember? That’s a bad kind of date. I thought maybe he was a ghost or something.’

‘There are no ghosts in the Soviet Union,’ said Chislenko unthinkingly.

Starov guffawed and accepted the unintentional invitation to complete the old joke.

‘No, they’ve all been given exit visas to Israel!’

Starov was still laughing when Sub-Inspector Kedin entered. Chislenko had sent him to contact HQ on Petrovka Street to find out what they’d got on Starov. But he returned with other pieces of news.

First, a British tourist had collapsed during a tour of the Novodevichy Convent. When his clothing was loosened to permit first aid, he was found to be wearing six pairs of jeans and twelve T-shirts.

That solved what little mystery surrounded Starov’s intentions.

Secondly, there’d just been an emergency call from the Gorodok Building.

‘A man fell down a lift-shaft from the seventh floor. Or perhaps he was pushed. It seems the caller wasn’t very coherent. Usual emergency services have been dispatched, but I said if they wanted a senior officer in charge, you were just around the corner. Hope you didn’t mind, Chief?’

Kedin was no fool. With Chislenko out of the way, he could claim this Starov case, all neatly tied up. It was a nice collar for an ambitious young officer.

On the other hand, Chislenko was not without ambition either. He knew that the Gorodok Building was the admin HQ of the important Organization of Machinery Supply, Maintenance and Service. A man who sorted out trouble there might get noticed by some very influential people.

It was a consideration Chislenko was later to recall with sad irony.

‘OK, I’ll go,’ he said, knowing that if Kedin had volunteered him, he really had no choice anyway.

‘Wrap him up nice and tight,’ he ordered, nodding at Starov.

The black marketeer grinned and said, ‘Say Inspector, you’re not related to the Chislenko, are you? Used to play for Dynamo?’

‘No. He’s not related to me either,’ retorted Chislenko sourly. He left, carefully not slamming the door.

When he arrived at the Gorodok Building he found the place in chaos. Whoever had made the emergency calls had certainly created a sense of emergency. A frenzy of firemen were trying to clear the building while a panic of police were trying to seal it off. The lift involved in the incident, which was on the south side of the building, was naturally out of use. Unfortunately so many cops, firefighters and emergency technicians had crowded into the north lift that it had broken down between the fourth and fifth floors. This meant that Chislenko, trying to establish order wherever he passed, had to labour up the stairs to the seventh floor. On the fifth landing he passed two medics giving the kiss of life to a third who had collapsed as the team sprinted upstairs to the emergency.