it.’
‘How do I find out if it’s Kotik, a teenage boy who liked swimming?’
Dennisov shot him a sideways glance.
‘I was given the name,’ Tom said hastily. ‘By the person who gave me this address. Well, the last address. Kotik is a friend of the missing girl.’
‘Who had enemies.’
‘Someone did, definitely,’ Tom said. ‘Now, how?’
‘Your boss will have to ask the authorities.’
‘What are his other options?’
‘They’ll cost.’
‘Of course.’
‘The KGB don’t drink at my bar. Not that I know. The ordinary police, on the other hand …’
Tom pulled out his wallet.
‘Not here! Your shadow will think I’m changing dollars. America is our enemy. Changing dollars is a crime. Also, their president is a shit who sells missiles to savages.’ Dennisov headed into an alley so overhung with balconies that snow barely reached its floor. ‘I’ll give back what I don’t use.’
‘Keep –’
‘I’ll give it back,’ Dennisov growled.
They parted at a metro station and Tom headed for Red Square, walking the last leg across a bridge over the frozen river. The sun was lower than ever, the horizon darkening and lights were coming on around him.
In reception, Tom asked to be put through to the ambassador, feeling pompous as he added that Sir Edward would want to take the call. It was the kind of thing his brother-in-law would say. Tom was halfway up the stairs when he met Anna Masterton coming down. ‘Any news?’ she demanded.
‘I’m on my way to see your husband.’
‘You can’t tell me?’
‘I should probably tell both of you.’
Anna turned on her heels and headed upstairs before Tom could say that it wasn’t as bad as it could be. She rapped on the inner door to her husband’s office before his secretary had time to do more than look up. The noise of her golf-ball typewriter stuttering to a halt sounded like the dying throes of a small revolution.
The knock drew a tight-lipped ‘Come in’.
Sir Edward looked no happier to see her than he did Tom, although he took off his spectacles and put down what he was reading.
‘You found the address?’
‘Alex wasn’t there.’
‘Told you,’ Sir Edward said. ‘She’s sulking with some friend.’
He sounded so relieved that Tom glanced sharply across and Sir Edward looked away, checking the time on a wall clock against the watch he was wearing as if that had always been his intention.
‘No one else knew anything?’ Anna asked.
‘We went to a warehouse too. But it was burned out. The police recovered a body … Not Alex,’ Tom added, as Anna threw a hand to her mouth.
‘How do you know?’ she demanded.
Tom prayed he had remembered right. ‘How tall is your daughter?’
‘Five foot three.’
‘Then it definitely wasn’t her. Burned bodies shrink, but even shrunken this one was taller.’
‘Anna …’ Sir Edward sounded as if he was trying to be soothing. ‘It’s going to be fine. She probably wasn’t even there.’
‘I’m afraid she probably was, sir. I found this in the rubble.’
Tom put the remains of the jade ring on Sir Edward’s desk, the half-circle of burned stone coming loose and falling away.
Anna Masterton vomited.
Tom left, having decided not to mention that the body might be Alex’s boyfriend. He’d find a way to tell Sir Edward later, or maybe he’d tell Mary Batten, who would find her own way to let the ambassador know.
Neither Mary nor Sir Edward would need telling that anyone who could wire a boy’s hands behind his back and burn him to death was not someone you wanted to have hold of a fifteen-year-old English girl for long.
10
Not Enough Room to …
Something in his flat was wrong. Tom knew it the moment he opened the door.
It wasn’t the smell, although that was metallic and flat, a slight odour underpinning the sourness of unemptied bins and sheets that needed washing. He’d been planning a bath, hot water allowing, to rid himself of the stink from
‘How do I find out if it’s Kotik, a teenage boy who liked swimming?’
Dennisov shot him a sideways glance.
‘I was given the name,’ Tom said hastily. ‘By the person who gave me this address. Well, the last address. Kotik is a friend of the missing girl.’
‘Who had enemies.’
‘Someone did, definitely,’ Tom said. ‘Now, how?’
‘Your boss will have to ask the authorities.’
‘What are his other options?’
‘They’ll cost.’
‘Of course.’
‘The KGB don’t drink at my bar. Not that I know. The ordinary police, on the other hand …’
Tom pulled out his wallet.
‘Not here! Your shadow will think I’m changing dollars. America is our enemy. Changing dollars is a crime. Also, their president is a shit who sells missiles to savages.’ Dennisov headed into an alley so overhung with balconies that snow barely reached its floor. ‘I’ll give back what I don’t use.’
‘Keep –’
‘I’ll give it back,’ Dennisov growled.
They parted at a metro station and Tom headed for Red Square, walking the last leg across a bridge over the frozen river. The sun was lower than ever, the horizon darkening and lights were coming on around him.
In reception, Tom asked to be put through to the ambassador, feeling pompous as he added that Sir Edward would want to take the call. It was the kind of thing his brother-in-law would say. Tom was halfway up the stairs when he met Anna Masterton coming down. ‘Any news?’ she demanded.
‘I’m on my way to see your husband.’
‘You can’t tell me?’
‘I should probably tell both of you.’
Anna turned on her heels and headed upstairs before Tom could say that it wasn’t as bad as it could be. She rapped on the inner door to her husband’s office before his secretary had time to do more than look up. The noise of her golf-ball typewriter stuttering to a halt sounded like the dying throes of a small revolution.
The knock drew a tight-lipped ‘Come in’.
Sir Edward looked no happier to see her than he did Tom, although he took off his spectacles and put down what he was reading.
‘You found the address?’
‘Alex wasn’t there.’
‘Told you,’ Sir Edward said. ‘She’s sulking with some friend.’
He sounded so relieved that Tom glanced sharply across and Sir Edward looked away, checking the time on a wall clock against the watch he was wearing as if that had always been his intention.
‘No one else knew anything?’ Anna asked.
‘We went to a warehouse too. But it was burned out. The police recovered a body … Not Alex,’ Tom added, as Anna threw a hand to her mouth.
‘How do you know?’ she demanded.
Tom prayed he had remembered right. ‘How tall is your daughter?’
‘Five foot three.’
‘Then it definitely wasn’t her. Burned bodies shrink, but even shrunken this one was taller.’
‘Anna …’ Sir Edward sounded as if he was trying to be soothing. ‘It’s going to be fine. She probably wasn’t even there.’
‘I’m afraid she probably was, sir. I found this in the rubble.’
Tom put the remains of the jade ring on Sir Edward’s desk, the half-circle of burned stone coming loose and falling away.
Anna Masterton vomited.
Tom left, having decided not to mention that the body might be Alex’s boyfriend. He’d find a way to tell Sir Edward later, or maybe he’d tell Mary Batten, who would find her own way to let the ambassador know.
Neither Mary nor Sir Edward would need telling that anyone who could wire a boy’s hands behind his back and burn him to death was not someone you wanted to have hold of a fifteen-year-old English girl for long.
10
Not Enough Room to …
Something in his flat was wrong. Tom knew it the moment he opened the door.
It wasn’t the smell, although that was metallic and flat, a slight odour underpinning the sourness of unemptied bins and sheets that needed washing. He’d been planning a bath, hot water allowing, to rid himself of the stink from
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