The Woman Who Knew Too Much

by Tom Savage

  Nora glanced through the iron gate at the fondamenta below. Men with shovels were clearing the wide walkway, and people were beginning to arrive on it, trudging and sliding and stumbling through the drifts in heavy coats and boots. She looked around the garden, spying a low, flat mound of snow under a naked tree near the garden wall that she suspected was a stone bench. It was. She cleared off the surface with her gloved hands, and the two women sat. They were quite alone here, a good distance from the buildings, and the iron gate was locked. The high wall behind them was at the edge of the rise, and on its other side was a sheer twelve-foot drop to the waterfront. They would not be overheard.

  “What I am going to tell you has not been told to anyone else,” Galina began. “You are the first person ever to hear it. I don’t know how much you know of me, Nora. I will guess that you have been told the main things about my life; my training with Moscow State Theater, my work in plays and films. You may know how I met Niki Malinkov, but I don’t know if you understand the politics in Russia today.”

  “I know the main points of your life,” Nora said, “and I was given a brief biography of the general as well. As for Russian politics, no, I’m not familiar with most of it. I know things got better after the Soviet Union was voted out, and they’ve gotten worse in some ways since then. In America we hear stories of corruption in high places and organized crime, but—”

  “Ah!” Galina cried. “This is what I want to speak of, the corruption and the crime. It is very bad, and it is becoming worse. We have there a group very much like your own richest people, what do you call them?”

  “The one percent,” Nora said.

  “Exactly. The one percent. There is this in Russia now, the president and many of his friends. Niki is one of them—or he pretends to be. He has apartments in Moscow and Saint Petersburg, and two dachas in the countryside. One of these is for his family; they live there all of the time, in a town near Moscow. But the other dacha is just for him. I have been with him for three years, and I have been to this house with him several times. It is outside a small village, and there is an old couple from the village who take care of it and work for him when he is there. It is very much like in our play, The Seagull, the country house of the actress with the old servants, yes? But Niki does not give the parties and weekends like the lady in the play. He makes it a secret, and only certain people go there. I, of course, and I think he has taken his other women there, the women he has had before me. In the last year, his friends go there from time to time, the other generals and military men. Not all of them, but a few. He is telling me I may only go to this dacha when I am with him, but one day last April I decide to surprise him with a visit. I know he is going there that weekend, and I get in the train and go there without telling him I am coming, you understand?”

  “Yes,” Nora said. She thought of the dressing room in La Fenice last night. Natalia had mentioned a dacha in the country…

  “I take the taxicab from the station. He has not yet arrived at the dacha when I get there in the afternoon, and the old couple are not there either. I know where is the extra key, in a flowerpot, and I go in. I find a bottle of wine and a glass, and I go into my favorite room, a little library next to the main gathering room, to wait for him. I drink wine, and I fall asleep on a couch.

  “When I wake, it is night. I stand up and go to open the door, and I hear voices from the main room. I hear Niki and other men talking. I think I should not go out there to join them—Niki does not like his friends knowing about me. I will wait until they leave, yes? But then I hear shouting. One of the men is angry, and Niki is trying to make him be quiet. I hear noises like chairs being moved, and I wonder what it is, so I—I open the door a tiny bit and look out.

  “There are seven men there, Niki and six others. Generals, I think—I recognize two of the faces from news pictures, and the rest are similar. Niki is the youngest man there, and he is almost fifty. They are standing around a table, looking down at something on it, a map, and they are arguing. I wonder, What does this mean? So I listen to what they are saying.”

  Galina paused here, looking off across the snowy garden. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, away from her face. She was apparently arranging her thoughts, deciding on the best way to continue. Nora waited, watching Galina, and an odd fact occurred to her. We are strangers in a strange land, she thought, a Russian and an American in a country that is alien to both of us, sitting on a bench in the garden of a convent, of all places. After a few moments, Galina turned back to look at Nora, into her eyes.

  Then she told Nora the rest of the story.

  Chapter 31

  Nikolai Malinkov was a patriot of Russia, but not the new Russia; this is what Galina Rostova told Nora. He had risen through the ranks of the Russian military, first as a teenager in the Soviet Union and later in the less restrictive Russia that replaced it. He had seen his country deteriorate from within, the victim of its own leaders, who were ruthlessly avaricious. Everyone in power, from the Kremlin to the military to the Russian mafia, soon found ways to scam the system they’d set up to replace the USSR. They all got rich as the ordinary population became poorer and less contented.

  General Malinkov’s father had been a general for the USSR, so he’d been raised by a man he worshipped who believed in the old Socialist government, and he believed in it as well. When it became clear to him that the new oligarchs were destroying the country he loved, he sought out other generals and men in high government positions who agreed with his old-fashioned ideology. He found quite a few, and they met in secret over a long period, discussing what they might do to save their beloved country from the evil new regime, the openly capitalistic monsters who were now in charge. They envisioned themselves as a junta, and they were planning a coup d’état that would sweep out the new fat cats and restore a more ordered government dedicated to the People.

  If anyone could pull it off, it would be these men. They were the commanders of armies and fleets, and the younger men under their command were already disillusioned with the new Russia. These soldiers, sailors, and airmen weren’t getting rich, and many of their families were worse off now than they had been in the Soviet days. They were constantly expected to risk their lives battling perceived enemies in the Mideast and Ukraine and other places, solely for the financial gain of the people at the top of the Russian order. Malinkov and his fellow conspirators believed that convincing a good number of their subordinates to join them would be an easy task.

  This turned out to be true, according to Galina. The generals were cautious, carefully selecting high-ranking officers one by one, thoroughly vetting them before approaching them with their plan and an invitation to be part of it. Galina said she hadn’t heard an exact number at the secret meeting she observed, but she gathered that the generals in that room had quite a following already, with many more expected to be added to their ranks in the near future.

  Galina said she heard some other particulars: Once the generals and their secret armies had taken Russia back from the indolent villains and their decadent Western lifestyle, they were going to bolster Russia’s power worldwide. This would be achieved by alliances that were already being courted. Malinkov and his friends were in communication with the leaders of ISIS, Al Qaeda, the Taliban, and others. The militant Islamist groups were particularly valuable, because the outpouring of refugees into Western Europe had planted many of their soldiers in key countries, posing as escapees from oppression. These agents-in-place received activation signals from Baghdad, Islamabad, Tripoli, and elsewhere to begin their assaults on the West. The siege had already begun, and the Russian generals could use it to their advantage.

  General Malinkov and his associates intended to ally themselves with these movements, even help them, and their own ultimate goal was the United States: If they could weaken America with chaos, they could strengthen their standing. They were also making long-range plans regarding China…

  Galina said she listened at the libra
ry door, shocked and frightened, knowing that she was in great danger. If Malinkov and his friends found her there, her lover wouldn’t hesitate to kill her. If anyone outside this house later learned that she’d been there, she would be marked as a traitor and her fate would be the same. Her only chance was to get out of there undetected, then find a way to get away from Malinkov, away from his powerful cronies, away from Russia itself.

  The six other men left the house at eleven o’clock, and Malinkov ushered them out to the front drive. Galina said she heard cars starting and departing, and she snatched up her purse and moved quickly out of the library, down the hallway to the kitchen at the back of the house. She stumbled across the darkened room to a rear door that fronted a forest. She ran, keeping to the trees, all the way back to the tiny train stop at the edge of the village.

  The last train to Moscow was due any minute, but she couldn’t wait on the platform by the shuttered ticket office because two of the men from the meeting were there, waiting as well. They were the only other people at the station. Galina watched from the trees as the train pulled in and stopped, and then ran for a carriage behind the one the men entered. She spent the entire train ride staring out at the dark landscape flashing by, wondering what to do. By the time she arrived back at her apartment in Moscow, she’d formed a plan.

  Galina finished by saying that she’d slept fitfully that night. It was only when she woke with the first light that she remembered the half-empty wine bottle and glass she’d left on the coffee table in Nikolai Malinkov’s library.

  Chapter 32

  The sky above the garden was still an ominous gray, but the snow hadn’t started again. Nora sat on the bench with the Russian actress, forming questions in her mind. Galina was looking over at a group of pigeons that had materialized on the snowy lawn near the convent’s kitchen door. That door suddenly opened, and one of the nuns came outside carrying a flat wicker basket. She spoke to the birds in Italian and scattered the contents of the basket—bread crumbs—on the ground. She smiled over at the two women on the bench and went back inside. The birds fell upon their feast as Nora turned to her companion.

  “So, you think General Malinkov knows you were there that night?”

  Galina shook her head, still watching the pigeons. “I do not know. He never mentioned anything to me, but I noticed a change in him after that. He began to watch me closely, to be suspicious of me. Often, when he is drunk, he accuses me of being with other men—Ivan Kirin, and even our director.”

  “He denied this to me, Galina, at the Arts Council reception. He said it isn’t true that he suspected you of affairs with these men, or with his lieutenant.”

  Galina snapped her head around, turning her gaze from the birds to look directly at Nora. Her eyes were wide, and the expression of surprise on her face was unmistakable. “His lieutenant? He mentioned this to you?”

  “Yes,” Nora said. “Lieutenant Marius Tarkovsky, the man who disappeared last September and is presumed dead. The man in the picture with you on your Facebook page.”

  Galina abruptly jumped up from the bench and whirled around, staring down at Nora. “You—you saw this page on the Facebook?”

  “Of course. It was part of my research for the interview.”

  “But there was no interview!” Galina cried. “It was a fake, a sharada, a piece of acting! Why do you investigate me?”

  Nora rose to face her. “I’m not investigating you. I was looking for things to ask about in the interview. It might have been a fake, but it had to look authentic for the—”

  “You have been spying on me, just like Niki! Just like Natalia—oh, yes, I know she hates me. They all hate me. They are jealous of my talents. Now I run for my life from these crazy generals, and the people who say they will help me are no better than the ones I run from! Everyone is against me! I have nowhere to go!”

  “Please, Galina, calm down!” Nora glanced around the garden, hoping they were unobserved. The pigeons looked up from their crumbs, but only for a moment. Otherwise, nothing. “I’m not against you—I’m your friend. Your personal life is not the issue here. Sit, please.”

  Galina frowned and bit her lip, but she sank back onto the bench, pulling the cloak’s hood up to once more cover her head. Nora sat beside her again.

  “Okay,” Nora said. “First, do you know who these generals are? Do you have any names?”

  Galina shook her head. “No, I do not know these men, but I will know them if I see them again. They are friends of Niki—that should be a place for your Central Intelligence people to start, yes?”

  “Yes, I suppose, and they can check their locations on that night. Was it a Friday night? You said it was the start of a weekend.”

  “I do not remember now. It was a Thursday or a Friday, I think.”

  “Okay,” Nora said. “And it was April. Which week in April?”

  Galina shook her head and looked away again. “I said April? It might have been May. It was a busy time, with a film I was making and—”

  “Which film? We can get their shooting schedule.”

  Galina thought a moment. “It was a television film, a comedy for the Channel One Russia network. The title would be translated in English as That Is Not My Dog.”

  “Natalia mentioned that you told her you were followed and watched in Moscow before you started this tour. Did this begin after the incident at the dacha?”

  “Yes, very soon after that. I did not say everything to Natalia; there was more of it. I came home to my apartment from rehearsal, not one time but two times, to see that people have been there. They go through my closets and shelves and drawers. My computer is in a different place on the desk. Even my food has been moved. At least two times this has happened—perhaps more times. People have followed me in the streets, into shops and restaurants. Sergei—the one from yesterday—he is one of them, and the big woman who is with us. I have seen them in Moscow, before we come on the tour, in places where I am with my friends, or when I am with Niki. Natalia does not know all of this. When did you speak with her?”

  “Last night,” Nora said, “after the performance.”

  This seemed to intrigue Galina. “You saw the performance? How was Natalia?”

  For no reason she was aware of at the moment, Nora decided to lie. “She was excellent—not as good as you, but she isn’t used to being the center of attention. She needs more time and experience in front of an audience, but she has an interesting style and a strong interpretation of Nina. She’ll be fine in the part.”

  Galina lost interest with a shrug. “Oh, so she can play it, after all. Good for her.”

  Nora could tell that Galina had been hoping for a bad review. She pressed on. “Natalia also said you met people in Zurich who were going to help you solve all your problems. Who were these people?”

  Galina turned to stare at her again. “She says this, that I am meeting people in Zurich? I do not know anyone in Zurich. We go there and give two performances, and there is not much to see. It is a boring city. I did not meet any people there.”

  “Why would Natalia tell me that?” Nora asked.

  Now Galina was angry again. “Because she is a foolish girl! Because she thinks I sleep with her boyfriend and she wants to make trouble for me! I do not know why she says this. Natalia Fedorovna is not my friend. Listen to me, Nora—I have heard my lover and his colleagues planning to take over my country and bring harm to yours. They will kill me if they learn that I know what they are doing. I cannot go back to Russia; this is no longer a choice. I wish to go to America. Is this not enough for now?”

  “All right,” Nora said. “We can finish it later. This is enough to get you to Washington. Now, we just have to figure out how to get you there.”

  Galina frowned. “You believe me? You do not seem to be upset at what I have told you. Does not this coup d’état surprise you?”

  Nora shrugged. “It’s not my job to worry about that. I don’t know much about military coups, anyway, exc
ept that they seem to happen a lot. There were recent ones in Egypt and Thailand, and a failed attempt in Turkey. There was a failed attempt in your own country in 1991. I don’t know if these generals are a credible threat—I’ll leave that to our State Department and the CIA. But we definitely have to get you out of Italy as soon as possible. The snowstorm has hindered us, but we’re working on it…It’s freezing out here. Let’s go inside.”

  Chapter 33

  Nora had never lied to her husband, but she’d occasionally withheld information from him. Nothing major; merely things like surprises for his birthday or details of some childhood transgression by Dana, and that one time with the fender bender in the mall parking lot. She’d had the dent fixed while he’d been away on Company business, and she never told him about it because she’d been the cause of the accident. She’d been preoccupied, planning an acting exercise for her students, and she hadn’t looked both ways as she’d pulled out of the parking space at Roosevelt Field—right into the path of a passing car. The other car was fine, so Nora was able to keep the incident a secret. She’d known that Jeff would have been angry about her inattention, and she didn’t enjoy his disapproval.

  For this reason, she gave Jeff an edited version of her conversation with Galina in the garden. As they prepared to go down to dinner at seven that evening, Nora told him about Galina and the generals in the country house. She’d fairly memorized everything Galina had told her, so she was able to re-create it practically verbatim.

  “That’s some story,” Jeff said when she was finished. “And they’ve been watching her and tossing her apartment since then? I’d say the general knows she was there that weekend, or strongly suspects it. I’m guessing it was his idea to have Sergei and Wonder Woman assigned to this tour—they’re his eyes and ears. You’ve got to tell Mr. Green.”