East of the Sun

by Janet Rogers

  ‘Who sent you?’ she asked again, and injected as much condescension into her tone as she could. It was a considerable risk to hope for the normal sensitivity about race in Russia. ‘Was it some arrogant white guy who thinks he’s better than you, who thinks you’re only good enough for running his errands, or for intimidating women like me?’ Amelia was breathless, but continued. ‘Is that all you’re good for?’ she added with a sneer matching his own. ‘Don’t let them do that to you,’ she said and played her final card. ‘I’ll pay you more if you tell me everything.’

  He took a step closer to her, his face tight with anger. ‘You know nothing!

  There was suddenly nothing more to say to tempt him. She’d run out of tricks. He was clearly not tempted by her offer of more money and her effort to manipulate his inferiority complex about race hadn’t paid off.

  She could merely watch as Mikhail came closer and closer, but at the last moment she found the question she wanted to have the answer to so desperately. ‘Is he dead? Please tell me.’

  Mikhail’s eyes hardened and he delivered his answer with icy scorn. ‘Yes, he’s dead, what did you think? He’s dead. Long gone. When a man disappears in Moscow, he is never seen alive again.’

  Amelia gulped with horror, but the vagueness of his answer bothered her. She tried one last time. ‘Did you see him . . . his body?’

  ‘I saw his empty car. That was enough. When I arrived, he was gone. An empty car and blood on the seat. It’s just a pity I wasn’t there in time to do it myself!’

  Amelia stared at him, her chest suddenly closing. She gasped for air and took a blind step backwards as Mikhail narrowed the space between them to inches. She felt something give way under her left foot. She staggered backwards, trying unsuccessfully to regain her balance, and fell with a muffled thud. The thick snow had broken her fall, but still a sharp pain shot up her spine. When she opened her eyes, Mikhail’s menacing figure loomed over her.

  ‘But why?’ she cried, feeling the horror of her own tears running down her face.

  He laughed. ‘It was just a job. Don’t ask me. Ask them,’ he said, gesturing towards the city centre, ‘ask all of them! You people know nothing about us and less about yourselves!’

  ‘Who?’ Amelia struggled to get the question out, but he cut her off, seeing, enjoying her desperation.

  ‘Who did it?’ he echoed her question. He threw his head back and took in a deep draught of cold air. ‘I’ll tell you who did it. It was all of them, everyone who’s ever wanted something for themselves. Everyone in their expensive clothes and cars, everyone who’s ever wanted power, especially that guy with the eyes.’

  Amelia stared at him, unable to comprehend his angry words. Then she heard something else – what sounded like shouting and rapidly approaching footsteps coming from somewhere behind her. Had Nick finally found them?

  She glanced at Mikhail and could see on his face that he too had registered that something was happening, that perhaps he’d run out of time.

  He cursed, looked at her and for a moment the air became still between them. What would he do? Then he dropped his gaze and for another moment his eyes rested on something else. She followed the direction of his eyes and saw the edge of the bag that held the money protruding from underneath her.

  One last time he looked at her, his eyes unexpectedly empty. Then he bolted, leaving her sprawled in the snow, still in possession of sixty thousand unused roubles.

  20

  ‘What do we know, what do we suspect and what do we need to find out?’ Nick was busy brewing coffee at the counter in the small kitchen. ‘I think those are the questions we need to focus on, because their answers will provide some direction.’

  In contrast to a few days earlier, Amelia didn’t mind the ‘we’ in his questions anymore. Just hearing it made her feel a little less alone.

  Gingerly she touched her aching lower back. Since the previous day’s disastrous meeting with Mikhail in the cemetery, Nick had been buzzing with energy, raring to go. She, on the other hand, felt exhausted, drained of all the resolve that had compelled her to return to Russia. During the night the enormity of the task she’d initially wanted to undertake on her own, had started weighing on her and now, as she watched his vigorous movements and the way he seemed both energised by and wrapped up in some inner thought process, she felt even more tired.

  ‘Amelia?’

  She looked up at his expectant face. ‘Sorry, I was drifting. Listen, do you think it would be safe to use the phone in the apartment? I need to call someone in London and I’m not sure if my mobile phone is secure enough.’

  Nick thought for a second. ‘I think so, yes. It’s a good idea. You’re not connected to this apartment in any way, so it’s definitely safer. In the light of all that’s happened in the last few days, I’d say there’s definitely a chance your mobile is compromised, so keep communications on it to a minimum. Better yet, keep it switched off when you’re not using it.’

  In the small lounge she sat down and pulled the telephone towards her. The e-mail between Robert and the mysterious other person at EME hadn’t stopped bothering her since she’d received it. She hated the suggestion that Robert might have acted in a less than ethical way. It sat in her thoughts like an ugly wart, its mere presence offensive. But there was one person who could possibly help her expel the doubts: Henry Gunn, an old school friend who ran his own financial services company in England.

  She waited for the line to connect. Nick came in with two mugs of coffee.

  ‘Do you want privacy?’

  ‘No, stay.’

  He placed the coffee in front of her and sat down.

  ‘Henry Gunn speaking.’

  ‘Henry, hello, this is Amelia, Amelia Preston.’

  ‘Amelia, hello! This is a surprise. How are you? You sound like you’re phoning from a deep hole in the ground.’

  ‘Yes, the connection isn’t great, sorry. Listen, I’m calling from Russia.’

  ‘What on earth?’

  ‘Yes, eh, well, it’s a long story. For another day. I need your help with something, Henry.’

  There was a pause on the other end. ‘Yes?’

  ‘EME. It’s a UK company that recently bought a stake in a mining joint venture with a Russian company called Sibraz.’

  ‘I know who they are.’

  As she’d guessed he would. Henry Gunn was not only very sharp, but as well-connected as he was well-informed.

  ‘I know this isn’t what you do, Henry, but I thought you might be able to help me with something. I need to find out if there is someone called CH Ross working for EME.’

  ‘Amelia, this sounds a little strange. Are you sure you’re all right? What are you doing in Russia and what’s going on?’

  ‘I can’t explain right now, I’m really sorry. I don’t know who else to ask. I need to know if such a person exists and if so, if there is anything noteworthy about them. My own connection isn’t reliable enough and I know you’ll be more efficient at finding the answers.’

  ‘Can you tell me why you need this information?’

  ‘I can’t tell you right now. Can you do this for me? I promise I’ll explain everything soon.’

  Henry’s sigh was audible. ‘Fine. CH Ross at EME?’

  ‘Yes. And thank you. I owe you.’

  ‘Just stay safe in that godforsaken place, that’s all you owe me.’

  She gave him both the apartment’s landline and her mobile number, with strict instructions to use the latter only if he couldn’t reach her at the apartment and only for text messages. She rang off, not entirely sure she wanted him to find answers to her questions.

  Nick hadn’t moved throughout. When she ended the call, his eyes were on her.

  ‘Are you all right?’ It wasn’t a superficial question requiring a simple and positive answer, but one that clearly reflected the concern he felt. His particular blend of perceptiveness and kindness still surprised her.

  Although she’d admit
ted to herself that Mikhail could have and would have said anything – true or false – to serve his purpose, his derision and clear conviction when he’d spoken about Robert’s death, had made her reel. Only in the past few weeks had she tentatively started putting into words her belief that Robert was gone, but in the absence of certain knowledge, a miniscule grain of hope had persisted.

  Until yesterday. The cold mockery in Mikhail’s face had confirmed the worst. Robert was gone forever. What more did she need to know? Was the rest, whatever would follow that knowledge, worth the hassle? Wasn’t that all she’d really come for? Was she not foolishly endangering her own and now also Nick’s life with her self-indulgent mission to find the truth? Was it time she accepted that Robert was dead and that she needed to let go?

  ‘Amelia?’ Nick was staring at her.

  ‘I’m sorry, my head is elsewhere today.’

  He came over to sit down next to her. She could feel his eyes on her face. ‘You feel like stopping, don’t you?’

  She nodded, silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to make sense of her inner turmoil.

  ‘I feel like stopping yes, but of course it isn’t what I really want to do. I ask myself if I truly want to find out every last detail. Isn’t what I already know enough? But then I come back to the fact that last year I didn’t do a thing. How could I have done nothing? How could I have run away? I’m not sure I can ever be rid of the guilt. Actually, I know I can’t. Maybe I’m just trying to lessen it or—’

  ‘Don’t do this to yourself. This is entirely counter-productive,’ Nick interrupted gently.

  ‘At the time, they – the embassy – said that I should go, that my life might be in danger and that they would continue to pursue a full investigation.’ She glanced at him. ‘Only they didn’t, did they? They said they would leave no stone unturned and instead they kept information from me. I’m so mad at them, but I’m just as mad at myself. I can’t blame only them, because I did nothing either. I left Russia and withdrew myself from this life entirely. I chose not to know then. I’ve let Robert down once, and I can hardly believe I’ve allowed things to come to this.’

  ‘Amelia, stop,’ Nick interrupted again, taking both her hands in his. ‘They were right in their insistence that you leave. Have you any idea how powerless you would have been in that situation? Not only are most of us pretty powerless in this place at any given time anyway, but you were also in shock. You would have achieved zero.’

  ‘But what if—?’

  ‘Absolutely zero,’ Nick repeated, his voice calm, sounding so sure of what he was saying. He let go of her hands and let out a big sigh. ‘Sadly not much has changed in this country in terms of the value of individual rights and opinions, not to mention the value of human life.’

  Amelia looked down at his strong, square thumbs that had rubbed the tops of her hands only a second ago. There was such certainty in his voice. When she set her emotions aside for a moment, she knew there was truth in what he said, but she also knew that the burden of guilt about her lack of action when Robert disappeared would always be with her.

  ‘His birthday was the week after he disappeared.’

  Nick said nothing. Instead he reached over and took her hand again. For a second she allowed herself to return his grip, waiting for the energy that she knew she had to summon for the next step to return to her.

  ‘We know that his car was empty and that the driver was gone. We also know that only a smear of his blood was found. Nothing else. Certainly not his body, not as far as we know.’

  It had taken a while, but finally they were getting around to answering the questions Nick had posed earlier. For the moment, she’d managed to push back the debilitating emotions.

  He nodded. ‘We also know that the driver probably saw or knows something of what happened that night, but that it’s unlikely we’ll ever get anything out of him, apart from something to do with “white water” or “big water”.’

  ‘Or both.’ ‘Yes. What else? Robert was one of the last to leave the function at the Marriott hotel that night and the driver drove him home. The car was found on Denezhniy Pereulok, which is just behind the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, and it’s actually a strange place,’ Amelia said. ‘I’ve always thought it was odd, because the one-way system in that part of the city means that they would have driven past the turnoff to the embassy if they’d followed the most obvious route. They would have had to drive back a block or two along some back streets to get back to the embassy and residence. Why would the driver have taken such a circuitous route in the first place?’

  Nick pondered her question. ‘Could it mean that he dropped someone off somewhere first? Or maybe they were trying to outrun someone who was chasing them?

  ‘Wait. There’s something,’ Amelia interrupted his thoughts. She was missing something, trying to remember what was bothering her.

  ‘What is it?’ Nick asked.

  She frowned and shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’ She waited for it to come to her. ‘Oh, yes, Patrick did mention that Robert dropped him off that night. It’s a long way. Patrick lives in one of the compounds near one of the international schools. I think it’s the Anglo-American school. I imagine they had things to discuss, but I haven’t had a chance yet to ask Patrick about the conversation they’d had on the way. It might be useful, although I think Patrick would have mentioned anything that was out of the ordinary.’ Amelia was thoughtful for a moment. ‘You know, even if Robert did drop Patrick off, it was still a strange place for the car to be. If the driver had come from Pokrovsky Hills – that’s where Patrick lives – I can’t imagine him needing to go via Denezhniy Pereulok. It’s a bit of a puzzle. Anyway, I don’t think we can solve it now,’ she said, ‘I’ll ask Patrick or maybe even Ratna. She may have some knowledge of how the embassy typically plans transportation for their senior officials.’

  She gestured for Nick to continue.

  ‘What else? We know about the deal between Sibraz and Prism, the problems, Robert’s involvement and Prism’s sudden sale of their stake in the project. We suspect that the answer to all this is to be found in the lesser value of the deposit and Robert’s discovery of that fact. The working theory for me is that his knowledge of it put him in harm’s way.’

  Amelia picked up his train of thought. ‘Bruce Jennings is not a man of admirable business values, but if your theory is accurate, he would have had to organise the murder of someone who was on his side, someone from his own country. It seems implausible, but we’re talking huge amounts of money, so it is possible, I’m forced to admit. And yesterday Mikhail referred to a man with strange eyes. Jennings has unusual eyes, so it could have been him.’ Amelia thought for a second. ‘Sibraz remains a suspect, because if they found out about the lesser value of the deposit, they would have wanted to keep it quiet too. It’s a fact that they were trying to get out of the deal, at least up to a certain point, which may mean they didn’t know about the deposit or they had other reasons for wanting to break up the partnership.’

  Nick was thoughtful for a second. ‘Either way, it will be a challenge to get inside information on how a Russian mining company like Sibraz does things. Judging by Igor Popov’s reaction, there is potentially a fair amount they need to hide. Most of these Russian companies have people who take care of their dirty jobs for them – jobs they don’t keep records of – and to find evidence of those kinds of activities would be next to impossible. We can probably only determine their guilt through a process of elimination, so I think we should focus our attention on the more promising leads and suspects.’

  Amelia considered her very initial theories. At least what they have discovered so far seemed to support those suspicions.

  ‘If Sibraz is too difficult to check out, it leaves us with the Canadians and a mysterious third party, maybe the Mafia, right?’

  Nick stood up, stretched his arms above his head and went to switch on the kettle for the umpte
enth time. ‘I don’t think it was the Mafia,’ he said when he came back.

  Amelia looked at him in surprise. ‘Despite Mikhail?’

  “Despite Mikhail.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘The Mafia or even just a thug would have simply killed him and left his body there, especially if they wanted it to be seen as a warning or message of some kind. It doesn’t take a long time to shoot someone. It takes far more time to render him unconscious and take him with you. Why would they have done that?’

  Amelia nodded as Nick continued. ‘And what would have been their motive? What would they have gained?’

  ‘Money? From a third party perhaps?’ Amelia asked.

  ‘In the case of a contract killing, the price tag would have had to be significant to make it worth their while. I think something, even if only a rumour, would have surfaced. It’s more difficult to hide a pricey killing than a random killing. Plus, it would have given the killers leverage against the party who had commissioned the murder in the first place. And,’ Nick added as he picked up a handful of dirty cups from the table, ‘even if that had been the case, they still didn’t leave the body, did they?’

  ‘Okay,’ Amelia said, following him into the kitchen, ‘so, the Mafia or other criminal gang is an unlikely culprit and it’s too difficult to get information on Sibraz. We seem to have too many suspicions and not enough leads to follow. That file was so depressingly thin.’

  ‘Did Robert have a diary?’

  ‘Probably a working diary which Ratna managed, but I . . .’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I just remembered that there were some personal books and papers the embassy would’ve packed up when I left. I didn’t have time. They were just some personal papers, photos and books, but I guess I could see if I can locate them and go through them.’

  ‘Good idea. I think it’s worth trying to see if the file that was shown to you was in fact the complete version.’