The second type of question wasn’t related to the investigation into the missing watch and was designed to get the subject to lie. Lee would ask a baseline question and then follow it with something like ‘I have fantasised about having sex with Mrs Grechko’, knowing that the subject would say no but knowing that it was almost certainly a lie. Mrs Grechko, the new Mrs Grechko, was a very sexy woman and the bodyguards — with the exception of Alina Podolski — were red-blooded males.
Once Lee had established the baseline and knew how the subject would react when lying, it was time to ask the relevant questions. In a normal investigation that would be about the missing watch but in this case Lee had to ask about the watch but also ask less specific questions relating to their relationship with Grechko. ‘Would you ever do anything to hurt Mr Grechko?’ was one. ‘Have you ever given information about Mr Grechko’s movements to a third party?’ was another.
The skill of the technician was in analysing the responses of the subject while being asked the relevant questions and assessing whether they were more similar to the baseline or to the established lies. It wasn’t something that Shepherd could do just by observing body language or listening to their voices. Lie detection was a complicated business, and even a skilled practitioner like Jules Lee had to proceed slowly and methodically. He was now on his third set of baseline questions to Serov, and if previous experience was anything to go by he’d be doing it at least another two times.
Shepherd’s Bluetooth earpiece crackled. ‘What the hell’s happening? Vlad, can you hear me?’ It was Popov, clearly anxious.
There was no answer from Molchanov.
‘Vlad, what the hell is going on?’ said Popov. ‘Boris, are you in the security centre? Will someone talk to me?’
Shepherd put his hand up to his earpiece. ‘Dmitry? It’s Tony. What’s wrong?’
‘The power’s gone down here,’ said Popov. ‘Where are you?’
‘The library,’ said Shepherd. ‘Everything’s OK here.’ The lights were all on and Lee’s equipment was functioning perfectly.
‘Thomas, do you have power in the guardhouse?’ Popov asked Lisko.
‘Yes,’ said Lisko. ‘And there are lights on in the house, too.’
‘It must just be underground that has the problem,’ said Shepherd. ‘But the emergency lights are on, right?’
‘Nothing’s on,’ said Popov. ‘We’re in complete darkness. Vlad, what the hell’s going on? Is anyone in the security centre? Boris, Alina, Max? Where the hell is everybody?’
‘Dmitry, who’s with you?’
‘Just Leo.’
‘Where’s Ivan?’
‘Basement Three, outside the pool.’
‘Ivan, are you there?’ asked Shepherd.
‘I’m on Basement Two,’ said Koshechkin.
‘What are you doing there?’ interrupted Popov. ‘You’re supposed to be outside the pool.’
‘He’s doing lengths,’ said Koshechkin. ‘He’ll be another half an hour.’
‘Not in the bloody pitch dark, he won’t,’ said Shepherd.
‘Where exactly are you, Ivan?’ asked Popov.
‘The games room,’ said Koshechkin. Shepherd could hear the embarrassment in the man’s voice.
Popov said something to Koshechkin in Russian, clearly giving him a major bollocking. Deservedly, too. Koshechkin was supposed to be a bodyguard and a bodyguard was never, ever supposed to leave his principal unprotected.
‘Ivan, can you get down to the pool?’ asked Shepherd.
‘I’ll try.’
‘Have you got your phone? You can use the light from the phone, enough to see in front of you, anyway.’
‘It’s in my locker,’ said Koshechkin.
‘Get to Grechko as quickly as you can,’ said Shepherd. ‘Dmitry, can you get to the security centre?’
‘It’s pitch black. We can’t move around.’ Shepherd heard a muffled thud followed by a loud Russian curse. ‘Stay where you!’ shouted Popov. ‘Leo’s just tripped over something,’ he explained. ‘Somebody’s going to get hurt.’
‘Have you got torches?’
‘No, no torches,’ said Popov. ‘There’s a back-up for the main electricity supply and there are two emergency circuits. It’s impossible for all three to go down at the same time.’
‘Impossible maybe, but that’s what’s happened,’ said Shepherd. ‘Where are your mobiles?’
‘In the changing rooms,’ said Popov.
‘So make your way there and get your phones out. See if you can get out of the gym and into the security centre. I’m with Konstantin, I’ll see if he can get some torches down there.’
He looked over at Lee. ‘We’re going to have to stop this for the moment,’ he said.
‘Problem?’ said Lee, peering over the top of his glasses.
‘Power failure downstairs. I need Konstantin to get down there with some lights.’
Lee nodded and began removing the straps from Serov’s chest. ‘See if there are torches or candles in the kitchen, then get them down to Dmitry,’ Shepherd said to him. ‘He’s in the gym. And make sure the security centre is OK, they’ve gone quiet.’
‘Will do,’ said Serov. He took the sensor from his finger and handed it to Lee, then pulled the electrodes off his shoulder blades.
Shepherd went out into the corridor and took his phone out of his pocket. He had to call Shortt to tell him to postpone the Khan business. He frowned as he saw that he had no signal. He went back into the study, picked up a telephone and put it to his ear. There was no dial tone.
Shepherd put a hand to his earpiece. ‘Ivan, be careful down there, OK? This might be more than a power cut.’ He started walking to the door. ‘Dmitry, we might have a problem. The phones are out. And I’ve lost my mobile phone signal.’
‘The landlines too?’
‘I’ve just tried the phone in the library and it’s down.’
‘But all the power’s on upstairs?’ said Popov.
‘No problems here at all.’
‘It could just be some fuses have blown.’
‘That wouldn’t explain the phones,’ said Shepherd, pushing open the library door. ‘Something is jamming our mobiles.’
‘Can you get to Mr Grechko?’ asked Popov.
‘I’m going to try,’ said Shepherd.
Monotok walked down the stairs. As he reached the door to Basement Three he heard a noise from above. He froze and held his breath. Someone had opened the door on Basement Two. He heard the shuffle of feet and then a hand brushing against the wall. It could only be Koshechkin, making his way down to Basement Three. Monotok started breathing again and turned to look up the steps. Koshechkin was moving so slowly that he must have been totally unable to see. Monotok drew his knife and waited.
Shepherd walked down the corridor towards the lift, taking another look at his phone. There was still no signal. The killer must have been using a cellular phone jammer. He put the phone away as he reached the lift. He pressed the button but the light didn’t come on. He pressed it again but nothing happened. He put his ear up against the door but couldn’t hear anything. The lift had been put out of commission, probably by cutting its power. He touched his earpiece. ‘Ivan, where are you?’
‘In the stairwell heading down to Basement Three. The lifts aren’t working.’
‘Yeah, the power’s been cut. Get to Grechko as quick as you can.’
‘Tony, it’s pitch black down here. I can’t see a thing.’
‘Quick as you can,’ repeated Shepherd.
‘Tony, if I slip I’ll break my neck.’
‘Just do it, Ivan. Grechko’s in danger. This isn’t an accident.’
‘You think the killer’s down here?’
Shepherd could hear the uncertainty in the man’s voice. ‘Don’t think about that,’ he said. ‘Your job is to protect Grechko. Now go ahead and do that.’
He put the phone in his pocket and headed for the emergency stairs.
Monotok s
miled when he heard Koshechkin ask whether the killer was in the basement. Part of him wanted to whisper ‘yes, I’m here’, but he knew that if he did he’d be making it difficult for himself. As it was all he had to do was wait in the dark with the knife and Koshechkin would come to him. It was almost funny watching the man make his way down the stairs, one at a time, feeling ahead with the toe of his shoe and keeping one hand flat against the wall. He’d reach out with the toe of his right foot, then tap it against the concrete step and only then would he place the foot down. Then he’d put his left foot next to his right foot and then start the whole process again. It was taking him a full five seconds for each step. Tap, step, step. Tap, step, step. With the hand scraping against the wall each time he moved. Monotok gripped the knife and waited.
Shepherd opened the door to the stairwell and looked inside. The light spilled in and he could see the first half-dozen stairs but everything was dark beyond that. He touched his earpiece. ‘Dmitry, how’s it going?’
‘We’re trying to get our phones out of the lockers.’ Shepherd heard Tarasov curse as he bumped into something. Shepherd realised that the gym would be a nightmare to navigate in the pitch dark.
‘I’m going down to the security centre,’ said Shepherd. ‘Ivan’s heading to Grechko. Konstantin, how are you getting on with torches?’
‘I can’t find any,’ said Serov. ‘I’ve got matches. I’m looking for candles.’
‘Quick as you can,’ said Shepherd. He took his phone out and switched it on. There wasn’t much light but he figured it was better than nothing. He stepped into the stairwell and let the door close behind him. The light from the phone cast a faint glow, barely enough to illuminate the first three stairs.
He moved as quickly as he could down the steps to Basement One. There was a faint diffuse light coming from the keyboard next to the thumb sensor. Clearly it still had power. That made sense because if the power had been cut to the locks there’d be no way of opening them. He pressed his thumb against the sensor, tapped out his four-digit code and pushed open the door.
‘Who is it? Is someone there?’ Shepherd heard a voice, coming over from his left.
‘Who’s that?’ he shouted. ‘This is Tony Ryan.’
‘It’s Yulian, Yulian Chayka.’
One of the drivers, Shepherd realised. He must be standing at the door to the driver’s room. ‘Yulian, do you have a flashlight?’
‘No,’ shouted the driver. ‘What’s happening?’
‘The power’s off. What about the cars? Are their flashlights in the cars?’
‘I don’t think so. What do we do?’
‘Stay where you are,’ said Shepherd. ‘You’ll hurt yourself if you move around in the dark.’ Shepherd moved his phone around but the light was so weak that it barely illuminated the floor. He took a deep breath and went into his memory. He’d walked around the parking area and the security centre many times, so he knew the layout. The fact that it was pitch black shouldn’t make any difference to his mental picture of his surroundings. He headed towards the gym, walking confidently even though he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face.
Koshechkin continued to move down the stairs. Tap, step, step. Tap, step, step. He reached the turn and shuffled across to the next flight of steps, keeping his left hand against the wall.
Monotok looked up and smiled. Koshechkin’s suit was a greenish black in the night vision goggles, his face a pale, almost fluorescent, green, and there was a flash of bright green at the top of his shoes whenever his white socks were exposed. His tongue was sticking out between his teeth.
There was just eight steps between Koshechkin and the knife in Monotok’s hand. It was a big knife, the stainless steel blade a full eight inches long, one edge wickedly sharp, the other serrated, with a thick groove along the blade so that the blood would flow out and negate any suction effect. Tap, step, step. A tap with the right foot, the right foot on the step, then the left. Tap, step, step. Six steps left. Tap, step, step.
Koshechkin stopped and cocked his head on one side. Monotok froze and held his breath. Koshechkin licked his lips and then moved his head from side to side, listening intently. For a moment Monotok thought that Koshechkin was going to turn and run back up the stairs but eventually the bodyguard recommenced his descent. Tap, step, step. Tap, step, step. Tap, step, step.
Monotok pulled back the knife and there was the faintest rustle from his sleeve. Koshechkin stopped and cocked his head again, deep furrows across his brow, his right foot poised in midair.
Monotok moved quickly, stepping up and thrusting the knife into Koshechkin’s chest, between the fifth and sixth rib, aiming for the heart. He plunged the knife in as far as it would go, then pulled it out and just as quickly stabbed Koshechkin again, slightly to the right of the first wound. Then again. And again. The massive damage to his heart and lungs meant that he bled out in seconds and Monotok moved back down the stairs to give the man room to fall. Koshechkin died without making a sound, a look of confusion on his face.
Monotok turned and went back down the stairs to the door to Basement Three. He took the severed thumb from his pocket, held it against the scanner and then tapped in the four-digit code. The door clicked open and Monotok grinned. It wouldn’t be long now until Grechko was dead.
Shepherd saw the faint outline of the keypad to the gym, almost as if it was floating in midair. It was disorienting but he knew it was just his mind playing tricks as it tried to make sense out of the blackness around him. He focused on walking, a strange experience when he couldn’t see where he was placing his feet. As he got closer the pale glow from his phone illuminated part of the door. He pressed his thumb against the scanner and tapped in his code. The lock clicked and he pushed the door open.
‘Dmitry, over here,’ said Shepherd, waving his mobile around. ‘Can you see the light?’
‘I can see it,’ replied Popov.
‘Head towards me. Where’s Leo?’
There was a loud bang and Tarasov cursed in Russian. ‘I don’t know where the fuck I am,’ he said.
‘Can you see the light from my phone, Leo?’ asked Shepherd, waving his mobile around again.
‘No, I can’t see anything. Wait. Yes. I see it.’ A few seconds later there was a crash and another loud curse. ‘Who the hell leaves weights on the ground?’ shouted Tarasov.
Shepherd continued to wave the phone around and after a minute or so he heard a footfall ahead of him and then Popov appeared in the faint glow. Shepherd put a hand on his chest. ‘Hang on for Leo,’ he said.
It took Leo another thirty seconds to reach them, and he bumped into Popov.
‘OK, this is what we’re going to do,’ said Shepherd. ‘Dmitry, keep a hand on my shoulder, Leo you hold on to Dmitry. I’ll lead us to the security centre.’
The two men did as they were told and as a group they began to walk to the security centre. The feeble light from the phone was barely any help in illuminating their way.
‘How can you see?’ asked Tarasov. ‘It’s pitch black.’
‘I’ve got a good memory, I can recall the layout, pretty much,’ said Shepherd. He was moving at a slow walk in what he knew was the direction of the door to the security centre. It was difficult because he couldn’t see where he was placing his feet and his brain kept playing tricks on him, persuading him that at every step he was going to put his foot in a deep hole. It was a relief each time his foot hit the hard surface.
Tarasov kept misjudging the pace and banging into Popov, making both men curse.
Eventually Shepherd saw the outline of the thumb scanner and keypad ahead of them, apparently floating in the air. He became disoriented and almost stumbled but he fought to focus and after three more steps he was at the door. He pressed his thumb against the scanner and put in his code. The door lock clicked and he pushed it open.
‘OK, guys, we’re entering the security centre. Don’t move around until we know what the story is,’ said Shepherd. The three men slowly
filed into the room. Shepherd’s right foot touched something and he told them to stop. He bent down and there was enough light from his phone to see Podolski, lying face down on the floor. ‘It’s Alina,’ he said. He transferred the phone to his left hand and felt for a pulse with his right. He knew as soon as he touched her neck that he was wasting his time. His heart lurched. He checked both Podolski’s ears. Her Bluetooth earpiece was missing. He patted her down and confirmed that her transceiver was missing. ‘She’s dead,’ he said, straightening up.
‘Dead?’ repeated Tarasov.
‘The killer’s down here,’ said Shepherd. ‘He’s taken Alina’s radio.’ He put his hand up to his earpiece. ‘Ivan, this is Tony. Where are you?’
There was no answer.
‘Ivan. Where are you?’
Popov interrupted and spoke rapidly in Russian. The only word that Shepherd could make out was ‘Ivan’.
‘Dmitry, I think Ivan’s in trouble,’ said Shepherd, though he knew that he was underplaying the situation. Koshechkin was probably already dead. ‘From now on we’re going to watch what we say on the radios, he’s probably listening in.’
‘So what do we do?’
Shepherd went through Podolski’s pockets and found her phone. He switched it on and gave it to Popov. ‘Where are the fuses?’ asked Shepherd. ‘In this room?’
‘In the briefing room.’
‘Find out if he’s just pulled the fuses or cut the wire. Either way do what you can to restore power. I’ll go down to Grechko.’
True Colours ss-10 Page 37
