The footsteps came closer and now he could hear the faint sound of breathing, the rustle of clothing. Someone was standing immediately over him, though still invisible to his constrained vision.
He held his breath. Expecting almost anything. A gunshot, a knife, a physical blow.
But there was nothing. The footsteps stopped. The faint breathing continued. Drew waited, his hands gripped white, for what might come next.
“I’m afraid he’s tied up all morning.” She ran her index finger slowly down the page of the desk diary in front of her, as though she needed to confirm her statement. “I might be able to find you a slot toward the end of the afternoon.”
Nergui glanced at Doripalam, who looked back blankly. He smiled gently at the receptionist. “I don’t think you quite understand,” he said. “We’re the police. We’re investigating a murder. Several murders, in fact. We need to see Mr. Kartashkin now.”
Her mouth had dropped slightly open at the mention of the murders, but she still didn’t seem inclined to give way. “I’ve been told very strictly that he shouldn’t be-”
But Nergui was already walking past her and up the stairs to the first floor. She jumped to her feet as though to try to stop him, but Doripalam motioned her to sit. “It’s easier for everyone if you don’t get involved,” he said.
“But you can’t just come-” She looked wildly around her.
“We can,” Doripalam said, smiling. “We are. Incidentally, just to save time, where will we find Mr. Kartashkin?”
She stared at him as though he were insane. Then she shook her head as though realizing that there was little point in arguing. “He’s in the Boardroom. Top of the stairs, first on the left.”
“Thank you,” Doripalam said. “See how helpful a little cooperation can be.”
He bounded up the stairs after Nergui. Nergui had clearly caught the beginning of the conversation below, and so was now waiting at the top of the stairs, smiling back down at Doripalam. “Where did she say he was?”
“Boardroom. First on the left.”
Nergui strode off again, just a few yards down the corridor to a sturdy wooden door. A well-polished brass plate confirmed that this was the Boardroom.
Nergui, not one to minimize the impact of his entrance, pushed down the handle and flung open the door.
Four men sat around a large mahogany table, files and papers spread between them. They were all staring in astonishment at the intrusion.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” Nergui said. “Which of you would be Mr. Kartashkin?”
A large, bald man stood up at the far end of the table. “I am Kartashkin,” he said calmly. “I trust that there is some good explanation for this intrusion.”
“I believe so,” Nergui said, smiling faintly. He produced his ID card from his top pocket and waved it airily in front of the men. “Ministry of Security,” he said.
Kartashkin looked as if he was about to protest, then clearly had second thoughts. “I am not aware that our company is of any interest to the Ministry,” he said calmly. “I have not gained this impression from the Minister.”
Nergui smiled. “No, well, perhaps he does not share all his innermost thoughts with you. Perhaps you would like to give him a call to check?”
Kartashkin stared at Nergui’s impassive gaze, then suddenly looked down. “No matter,” he said. “I am of course always happy to cooperate with the Ministry in any way possible.” He looked around the table, smiling blandly. “Perhaps, gentlemen, you will leave me alone for a short while with Mr.-?” He glanced at Nergui.
“Nergui,” Nergui smiled. “And my colleague, Doripalam. This should not take long.”
The other men shuffled out, and Kartashkin sat smiling at Nergui and Doripalam. As soon as the door closed behind his colleagues, Kartashkin’s smile vanished. “What the hell’s this all about? I do not appreciate being invaded in my own offices.”
Nergui’s smile was as bland as Kartashkin’s had been. “This is a very important matter, Mr. Kartashkin. We are investigating murder.”
Kartashkin regarded him closely. “And what does murder have to do with me? I’m a businessman.”
“As you say, Mr. Kartashkin. And a very well-connected one. We understand that at least one of our officers was on your payroll.”
Kartashkin’s head jerked up. “What do you mean?”
“What I say.”
“That’s ridiculous. We don’t-”
“Delgerbayar, the officer in question is now dead. Murdered. Brutally murdered.”
Kartashkin rose to his feet. “I must ask you to leave. I’m not sure what you’re implying, but it sounds like the most outrageous-”
Nergui slowly raised his hand. Kartashkin, imposing figure as he might be among his own colleagues, fell silent. “I am not trying to imply anything, Mr. Kartashkin. I am simply stating some facts and seeking your help with our inquiries.”
Kartashkin slumped back down into his seat. “You can’t prove-”
Nergui lifted his hand again. “Mr. Kartashkin, we are both adults. Let us not waste each other’s time. You do not know what I can prove or not prove. I know that Delgerbayar was on your payroll. It may well be that other senior officers are also in your pocket. I do not know that, and at the moment I do not particularly care. But I do care about Delgerbayar because he is now dead, and I want to know why.”
Kartashkin hesitated, looking from Nergui to Doripalam and then back, as though hoping that some other approach might be forthcoming. Finally, he said: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Nergui shook his head slowly. “That is disappointing, Mr. Kartashkin. I had expected a more intelligent response.”
Kartashkin looked at the door as though expecting that someone would walk in and interrupt them. Perhaps, Doripalam thought, someone really would contact the Minister on his behalf.
“What are you proposing to do? Arrest me?” The words were defiant, but the tone much less so. Kartashkin had suddenly become a different figure from the blustering demagogue who had first greeted them. This was a man, Doripalam thought, on the verge of fear. But fear of what? This would not be a man troubled by the legal consequences of his actions. He did not seriously fear arrest. It might be that he was engaged in corruption far more serious than the bribing of a few police officers, but in this society foreign investment was always well beyond the law. Whatever he was afraid of was something far more troubling. As he watched Kartashkin, and saw sweat breaking out on his neck and forehead, Doripalam thought back to the board meeting they had apparently interrupted. They had caught only a glimpse of the grouping of men before they had responded to Nergui’s interruption, but Doripalam had the impression, from the expressions and body language, that it had been some sort of crisis meeting.
Nergui nodded. “If I have to take you in to police headquarters to get the answers I need, then so be it. It would be an unfortunate interruption to your day. I am sure you have much to get on with.” Nergui glanced briefly across at Doripalam, and it was almost as if the older man had been reading his thoughts.
Kartashkin shook his head. “I am not prepared to say anything on the record. If you want a formal statement, you will have to arrest me.”
Nergui smiled softly. “But off the record?”
“I don’t know.” Kartashkin glanced at the door again. “This is not a good time. I am in the middle of things.”
“We will keep you no longer than we need to.”
“I… Well, we are facing some difficulties.” He paused, clearly trying to think what to say. “You are right. Off the record. Delgerbayar was known to us. He did the odd bit of business on our behalf. Nothing corrupt-”
“I understand,” Nergui said, his face blank.
“I do not know why he was killed. But I want to know why. We have been having some business troubles.”
“You are involved in one of the Gobi projects, that is right?”
Kartashkin looked sharply up at Nergui, the
n nodded. “I think you know more than you are saying. Yes, we are involved in the Gobi.”
“It is not going well?”
“It is proving more difficult that we envisaged, yes. There is enormous potential, but the initial investigations are proving difficult. It has required more investment than we expected. Considerably more.” He paused, clearly wondering whether he had said too much.
“You are the major investor?” Nergui said. “Along with our government, I mean.”
Kartashkin hesitated. “It’s complicated,” he said. “We were the major investor, initially. It was virtually a joint venture between ourselves and your government, with a little investment and expertise from the US, the UK and Korea. But as the projected costs have risen, we’ve struggled to keep pace, so the other parties have increased their stake. Especially the US.”
“The US government?” Nergui said.
Kartashkin shook his head. “There is government investment and support, as there is in all the partner companies, but this is a private company.” He smiled, bleakly.
“But you have raised the required investment?”
“We have raised the required investment. But it has not been easy. There have been tensions.”
“And murders?”
“We do not know if Delgerbayar’s death is linked in any way-”
“Mr. Ransom the Englishman, was also on your payroll, was he not?”
For the second time, Kartashkin raised his head and stared at Nergui. “You are playing with me,” he said.
“Believe me, Mr. Kartashkin, I do not play where such matters are concerned. We know that Mr. Ransom was working for the consortium.”
“He was working for our British partner. In the north. He was advising on the opencast mining-”
“Mr. Kartashkin, please do not underestimate me. We know that Mr. Ransom had been carrying out some work connected with the Gobi project. We understand that he had been called in to verify some disputed data.”
Kartashkin’s eyes were wide now. “In Russia, I think we have ceased carrying out secret surveillance on our citizens. I can only assume that this is not yet the case here.”
“Assume as you wish,” Nergui said. “But we do like to be aware when visitors to our country are acting illegally.”
“Hardly illegally,” Kartashkin said. “And you will need to take this up with our partner. It was they who requested-”
“He was working outside the terms specified on his visa,” Nergui said. “But that is unimportant. We have two murder victims, killed in very similar circumstances, both apparently employed within your consortium. Such coincidences spark my curiosity.”
“I do not know what is happening,” Kartashkin said. “I am speaking the truth. I am out of my depth in this project, I admit it. I’m a businessman-a pretty hard-nosed businessman, I thought. I don’t always do things by the book. But this is beyond me.”
“What is beyond you, Mr. Kartashkin?” Nergui said.
“This project. There are people involved in this who scare me. On all sides.” He glanced at the door again.
“Even on your own side?”
Kartashkin leaned forward, his hands clasped together. “Yes, even on my side. We’re a legitimate business. But we needed more investment here to keep in the game. We’ve always walked a fine line.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’re based in St. Petersburg. It’s not easy. Organized crime there is… well, it dominates the business world. Not all businessmen are criminals, but we all have to make accommodations.”
“I understand. And you have been making accommodations in respect of this project?”
“More than ever before. We were desperate. We’d already sunk so much into this that if it had fallen through we’d have gone under. And there was increasing investment from the other partner countries, so we began to be afraid of being squeezed out. So we had to look for further investment at home.”
“And you found it?”
“We found it. But only by doing business with people that we would not normally wish to go near.”
Nergui nodded, and looked at the door. “Your colleagues,” he said. “These are the people you are talking about?”
“Two of them, yes. The other one is my deputy. But the other two directors-”
“Do you believe they are responsible for the murders, Mr. Kartashkin?”
Kartashkin shook his head. “No. I mean, that would make no sense. Why would they want to kill Delgerbayar and Ransom?”
“So who did?”
“Well, this is what scares me. If we assume that the two murders are connected, then that suggests that they were committed by someone else in the project. Someone trying to harm our interests.” He paused. “That, at least, is how my new colleagues appear to think.”
Nergui nodded. “And they think this because this is perhaps how they would behave themselves?”
Kartashkin shrugged. “I do not know. But I know that they are taking the killings as-how do I put this? — as an affront to their honor. The way they talk disturbs me.”
Nergui nodded. “I think you are a brave man, Mr. Kartashkin, to state your views so openly.”
“I am anything but brave,” Kartashkin said. “But I am trusting you with this. I do not want more bloodshed.”
“I could insist on you coming back with me to give a formal statement,” Nergui said. “And I may yet have to do so. But for now I think it is better if we treat our business as concluded. You have told me nothing.”
Kartashkin nodded, the relief showing on his face. “Thank you. There is little else I can do, but I would help if I could.”
“I would give you one piece of advice, Mr. Kartashkin. Get out of this. As soon as you can.”
As they left the boardroom, they saw two of the men who had left the meeting now standing at the far end of the corridor, watching them. Nergui made a gesture of apology. “I am sorry for disturbing your meeting. I hope that I did not keep you waiting for long.” He walked slowly along the corridor toward the two men, who were watching him warily. One was tall, thin, shaven headed. He wore dark glasses even indoors, in the middle of winter. His stare was blankly intimidating. The other was shorter, his hair combed tightly back, his eyes bright and blinking.
“Routine questions, I’m afraid,” Nergui said. “We’re investigating some illegal prospectors near one of your sites in the north. I just wanted to check whether you had actually met the prospectors, whether you could provide any information about them. But Kartashkin says no. Is that your recollection also?” He gazed impassively at the two men, a faint smile on his lips.
There was silence for a moment, then the taller man spoke, scarcely above a whisper. “We know nothing of this. We simply wish for the police to enforce the law.”
“It is what we try to do,” Nergui said. He nodded slowly, as though musing on his words. “But thank you. And my apologies again for the disturbance.”
He turned and made his way down the stairs, Doripalam close behind, feeling the men watching him until he had walked across the reception and back out into the street.
As soon as they stepped back into the cold morning air, Nergui began to stride, with characteristic speed, back toward HQ. Doripalam hurried to keep up. “Nasty bunch,” he said.
“Very. I was keen for them to know that Kartashkin had told us nothing.”
“What do you think about Kartashkin? About what he said, I mean?”
“I feel,” Nergui said, “as though he has provided us with another piece of the jigsaw, but I have no idea about how it all fits together. If it’s true that Ransom’s and Delgerbayar’s deaths are somehow connected with the Gobi project, then where does Badzar fit in?”
“Maybe Badzar’s working for one of the partner groups. Perhaps he’s a hired killer.”
Nergui stopped suddenly and turned to look at Doripalam. “It’s possible, I suppose, but I can’t see that it makes much sense. Who would hire a madman? And what pr
ofessional killer would leave the bodies the way these were left?”
They crossed the road, stepping over the thick piles of graying snow left by the snowplows. The roads were largely cleared now, and the morning traffic was becoming busier.
As they turned the corner back toward police HQ, Nergui’s cell rang. He pressed the receive button, holding the phone to his ear as he walked.
It was one of the junior officers. “We’ve had another call, sir. From our friend.”
“Is he still on the line?” Nergui said. “I asked for him to be put through to the cell.”
“We tried, but he wouldn’t hang on. Obviously thought it was a ruse to give us time to trace him. But he left a message.”
“What message?”
“Said he wanted to meet you, sir. Just you. On your own. He’s still claiming that he’s got the British officer. Says he’s prepared to release him but only if he can meet with you.”
“Did he give us any reason to believe that McLeish is still alive?”
“Not really. Didn’t stay on long enough.”
“So what next?”
“He wants an answer from you, sir. As to whether you’re prepared to meet with him. The implication was that if you don’t the British officer won’t be alive much longer.”
“Assuming he’s alive now. Okay, we’re only a few minutes away. Did he give you any indication when he would call again?”
“He said in fifteen minutes. And that we should be ready with an answer.”
“In that case, I’d better try to come up with one.”
He ended the call and relayed the gist of the message to Doripalam.
“What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know,” Nergui said. “He’s got us over a barrel, as he’s no doubt fully aware. We can’t just ignore this. The political ramifications are too great. But it would be crazy to go into a one-on-one meeting with a psychopath like this. Especially since we don’t even know if he does really have McLeish or, if he does, whether McLeish is still alive.”
“You could go in with some backup.”
“It would be a risk. If McLeish is there and alive, we don’t know what Badzar would do if he thought we had him cornered.”
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