Chernobyl Murders lh-1

by Michael Beres

  Nikolai Nikolskaia stood in the doorway, staring at the pistol aimed at Brovko’s back.

  Komarov lowered the pistol, spun around, and fired all eight rounds at the feet of Horvath and Bela. When it was over, no one had been hit, but Bela was weeping.

  Komarov turned back to Brovko and Nikolskaia. “I hope I did not frighten you. I simply wanted the traitors to know that I am serious!”

  Because cars and a van were parked in front of the house, Juli went off the road and climbed the remainder of the hill through the weeds.

  When she got closer, she saw several men near the cars. There was also a man at the side of the house, and one in back.

  Maybe Lazlo hadn’t arrived yet. Or maybe he had arrived and had been able to kill Komarov. If so he would have had to escape, unless…

  No. Lazlo would have escaped. Lazlo would have shot Komarov and run out the door. But where could he go with all the guards and no place to hide? No place to hide except the wine cellar he had told her about.

  Juli raised her head and looked through the weeds, but it was too dark to see the entrance to the wine cellar. Lazlo said it looked like a box, most people never knowing it was a cellar at all. If she went to the back of the house, away from the men at the cars, she might be able to see the wine-cellar entrance, or she might be able to see into a back window.

  As she crawled, she saw the man at the front of the house go to the door. The door opened, and light swept across the yard. She crawled faster.

  Suddenly gunshots erupted in the house, one after another. The men out front and the men at the back and sides of the house ran toward it. Not knowing what else to do, Juli ran into the backyard.

  Then she saw it, a box shaped like a coffin. She hid behind the box for a moment, felt along its edge, pushed up one side, then the other.

  She lifted the edge of the box, glancing to the house, where two men with rifles stood in the doorway looking in. She lifted the lid of the box farther, felt for the ladder, and started down. As she eased the lid closed, she could see the men with rifles through the crack.

  They turned and spread out, going back to their positions.

  The cellar was darker than the night had been, but it was warmer.

  When she reached the bottom of the ladder, she stepped off onto soft earth. She turned away from the ladder and stood perfectly still.

  After a while she heard a sound, something like an animal feeding.

  She thought of rats, and a chill went through her. She thought of Lazlo. Lazlo could be here hiding.

  “Is anyone here?” she whispered.

  “Who are you?” It was a woman’s voice.

  “My name is Juli. Have you seen Lazlo Horvath?”

  “My God!” whispered the woman harshly. “Lazlo is in the house where the shots came from! He’s with Bela! Tell me they’re all right!

  Tell me they’ve escaped from the madman!”

  “I don’t know,” said Juli. “I was coming up to the house when I heard the shots.”

  Juli moved closer to the woman’s voice. She heard a murmur. A baby! Lazlo had said Mariska had a baby.

  “Did Lazlo tell you about the wine cellar?” A voice from Juli’s left, a different woman.

  “Yes.” Juli knew she did not have to ask, but she did anyway.

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Nina Horvath, Juli. You must recognize my voice.”

  Juli backed away, found the ladder, sat on the dirt floor, and wept.

  33

  The cellar, at first warm in contrast to the cold night, soon felt like a tomb. The tomb was damp and cold, conspiring with Nina Horvath to make Juli feel as though she should die. This was the place Mihaly and Lazlo had spoken of, the wine cellar deep in the ground behind the house, the wine cellar with its wine-cellar smell making tears seem bitter and self-serving.

  After Juli’s arrival, she heard Mihaly’s daughters whispering to their mother, asking who this woman was. “She’s a friend of Uncle Lazlo,” Nina had said. “Now be still, little dears. Try to sleep. Soon it will be a new day, and we’ll be out in the sun.”

  Mariska’s baby had been nursing when Juli arrived. Now the baby was asleep. Mariska left the baby with Nina’s girls at the back of the cellar. Juli could not see Nina or Mariska, but she could hear them gently shushing the children before they made their way to her, so close she could feel their warmth. The three of them stood near the ladder at the entrance. They spoke quietly, whispering in case one of the guards surrounding the house should happen to walk close to the cellar entrance. While they spoke, Juli felt Mariska’s arm on one side and Nina’s on the other.

  “What could be happening up there?” asked Mariska in an excited whisper.

  There was a pause before Nina answered in a more controlled voice, her composure reminding Juli of the night Nina had called her at the apartment and asked for Mihaly. “We have no way of knowing,” she said. “At first I thought Komarov was only after Lazlo and Juli. Now I’m not sure. He’s insane. I’m convinced of it, and I’m certain Lazlo was convinced of it when he told Bela to have us hide down here. The only reason Bela isn’t here is because he provided a diversion. There were too many men to do anything else.”

  “My Bela,” gasped Mariska, choking back tears. “He could have escaped during the day while out in the fields if it weren’t for us!”

  Juli held Mariska to calm her. Then she felt Nina’s hand on hers, Nina also trying to calm Mariska. Neither pulled away, and their hands stayed in contact.

  Mariska continued, this time careful to whisper. “I heard the madman threaten Bela before he left for the fields yesterday. He reminded Bela about the well-being of his family. And now, with all that shooting up there…”

  “I don’t think Komarov shot Bela,” said Nina.

  “Why not?” asked Mariska. “What else has he got to do? You said yourself he’s insane. He questioned you in Moscow. And last night he hit you…”

  “He was trying to frighten me,” said Nina, her voice still composed. “He succeeded, and now we have a dilemma. I’ll do what I must to stop him from hurting my daughters.”

  Nina and Juli let go of Mariska, their hands sliding apart in the darkness.

  “I’ll do what I must,” repeated Nina, with determination.

  They were silent for a time. Juli felt like telling them she wanted to help. But she sensed Nina needed to say more. Finally, Nina spoke again.

  “If we give ourselves up, we might delay Komarov’s plan for Bela and Lazlo. But we can’t allow the children to fall into his hands. We can only stay down here so long with nothing but wine to drink.

  You’ve been quiet until now, Juli Popovics. What do you think we should do?”

  “It’s what I should do,” said Juli.

  “What do you mean?” asked Nina.

  Juli knew what she needed to say. She took a deep breath and began. “I’m the one Komarov is after. I’m the one who worked at Chernobyl. Komarov is trying to create a conspiracy. Because Mihaly isn’t here to defend himself, Komarov wants to build a conspiracy around him by pursuing Lazlo and me as if we are co-conspirators.

  Lazlo said it’s an old KGB trick. If you pursue someone long enough, they begin to take on an implied guilt, especially if they hide, as we have done. Lazlo doesn’t know I’m here. I was supposed to escape into Czechoslovakia. I’m not here because I want to be a heroine.

  I’m here because of my guilt. I am responsible for what Komarov is doing. There is no conspiracy. But if it weren’t for my relationship with Mihaly, none of this would have happened.”

  “Your relationship caused Chernobyl to blow up?” whispered Mariska.

  “That’s not what she means,” said Nina. “Perhaps she is here for forgiveness.”

  Juli reached out and touched Nina’s arm. “No. I want to help Lazlo’s family.”

  There was a long silence. Juli let go of Nina’s arm. Then Nina spoke.

  “Komarov insists there was a conspiracy. He wa
nts to prove you and Lazlo and… and Mihaly were involved. Mihaly is gone.

  Komarov has Lazlo. Now he wants you. Is that it?”

  “There’s more to it,” said Juli. “A cousin named Andrew Zukor might also be implicated.”

  “Cousin Andrew?” asked Mariska.

  “Andrew is from the United States,” said Nina. “I can understand how the KGB might have made the connection. I remember Andrew asking questions about Mihaly’s work at Chernobyl.”

  Juli wished she could see Nina’s eyes. She recalled Aleksandra’s eyes and the eyes of the farm wife in the hospital. “Komarov wants to capture us. But he also wants to use our capture and the Chernobyl situation in a push for power.”

  “If this is true…” said Mariska.

  “Go on,” said Nina.

  Mariska continued. “If this is true, if his goal is to uncover a conspiracy where there is no conspiracy, he’ll want to capture you in order to torture you or kill you.”

  “I agree,” said Nina. “Komarov is a hard-liner. I saw it in him in Moscow. He won’t stop until he gets what he wants. No matter who gets hurt.” Nina’s voice grew somewhat louder as she turned to Juli. “No matter who gets hurt.”

  Juli was silent, realizing Nina’s last statement referred to her affair with Mihaly. Finally, Juli took another deep breath and spoke.

  “I want you to understand how Mihaly and I became involved, Nina. I’m not seeking forgiveness, but I want you to know. My father, the only person I was ever close to, died the previous winter.

  I was quite alone when Mihaly came along. It wasn’t his fault. I…

  I needed someone then. It’s my fault. Please…”

  Silence except for one of the children sighing deeply in sleep.

  One of Mihaly’s little girls dreaming of her father and mother and happier times. Juli continued.

  “I’m not seeking forgiveness.”

  “I hear you,” said Nina, her voice less composed. “But what else can you do with Mihaly gone and all of us down here together in a hole that may end up being our grave?”

  Another long silence, the only sounds the fidgeting of the children at the back of the cellar. Finally Nina spoke.

  “Enough about forgiveness and what happened between you and Mihaly. We’ve got the children to consider. Earlier you said you could help. What can you do? There are men with machine guns up there.”

  “I know,” said Juli. “I saw them. But there’s got to be a way. If we knew what was going on up there…”

  “Perhaps…” whispered Mariska. “Perhaps we can spy out the trapdoor without them seeing us.”

  “It’s possible,” said Juli. “When I came inside, I saw a small crack where the door doesn’t quite close all the way. I know we couldn’t see much now. But soon it will be light. Maybe we’ll be able to see something during the day to help us decide what to do.”

  Nina and Mariska and Juli agreed. For now it was the only thing they could do.

  They took turns standing on the ladder peering through the small crack at the entrance. The two not at the entrance tried to keep the children warm and quiet.

  The hour or so until dawn passed slowly. The crack at the entrance faced the house but was too low to the ground to allow them to see windows beyond the weeds. Only the dark roof of the house and the shadows of trees in the yard were visible. Eventually, when it was Juli’s turn on the ladder, the gray of dawn began. It was then that Juli saw a movement against the gray sky. At first she was not certain what it could be, perhaps clouds. But then, after studying the movement, and as the dawn grew brighter, she realized she was looking at the legs of a man, a man standing very close to the entrance to the cellar. As it grew lighter, she could also see, to the side of the man’s legs, the barrel of a machine gun.

  From below, Nina touched Juli’s ankle gently to let her know it was time to trade positions on the ladder.

  Before dawn, a man was sent to relieve Nikolai. Nikolai sat in one of the Volgas with the engine running and the heater blowing warm air over his face.

  Two hours earlier he had opened the front door to the house and was confronted by a scene he would never forget. Bela Sandor and Lazlo Horvath were tied to chairs in the middle of the room beneath the overhead light. Their faces were covered with welts, their eyes were swollen, their shirts were ripped open, and burn marks were on their necks and chests. Both men looked to the door when he opened it and, with their eyes, pleaded with him for help.

  The other part of the scene Nikolai would never forget was Captain Brovko at the door about to come out while Major Komarov aimed his pistol at Brovko’s back. The look on Komarov’s face was alarming. Time stopped. The men in the chairs stared with pleading eyes. Komarov aimed his pistol at Brovko. Then time resumed and Komarov emptied his pistol into the floor. After this incident Brovko went back inside and closed the door.

  The shots attracted the attention of the rest of the men. While Nikolai was on duty at the front door, several held a lengthy conference near the parked Volgas. One of the men approached Nikolai and asked what he had seen in the house. While considering his answer, Nikolai thought of many things. He thought of the look on Komarov’s face. He thought of Pavel smiling up at him while blood gushed from his temple. He thought of Pavel’s wife at the funeral. Finally Nikolai told the other men that if he hadn’t opened the door when he did, he was certain Komarov would have shot Captain Brovko in the back.

  Now, as Nikolai sat in the Volga watching the morning sky brighten, he wondered if he should go into the house and tell Captain Brovko what the other men, gathering in small groups before dawn, already knew.

  Whenever he moved, Lazlo’s face felt as if it had expanded, creating more nerves to send messages of pain to his brain. Although he had lost track of time, he felt at least an hour had gone by since Komarov had stopped his beatings. The last thing Komarov had done was to blow cigarette smoke into their faces.

  It was quiet in the room, so quiet he could hear Bela’s deep breaths. He hoped Bela would not begin snoring and rouse Komarov, who had apparently settled in the daybed behind them. Earlier, the man he now knew as Captain Brovko had given both him and Bela a drink of water. Now Brovko sat at the kitchen table. The phonograph was off the table and back in the cabinet. When Komarov finished beating them and placed Lazlo’s pistol on the table, Brovko had picked it up and tucked it into his belt. Now Brovko sat with his elbows on the table, staring out the window at the new dawn.

  Last night, during Komarov’s beatings, there had been increasing evidence Brovko did not approve. Brovko attempted several approaches to convince Komarov they should return to Kiev with their prisoners. Each time, Komarov refused, insisting Lazlo knew where Juli Popovics was and Bela knew where the women and children were. After the incident in which Komarov shot Lazlo’s pistol into the floor, Brovko was especially watchful, never leaving them alone in the house with Komarov.

  Lazlo recalled the man who opened the door. It was the same man he had sent back to Kiev in his Zhiguli after shooting his partner in Visenka. The man who had wept as his partner lay bleeding in his lap. He had heard Brovko call the man Nikolai. And now he recalled the partner’s name because it had been repeated over and over.

  “Pavel! Don’t die, Pavel!”

  Again, the question. Why would Komarov send an untrained agent on a dangerous mission? Were there more untrained agents outside? The man he had hit over the head had been young. Were they all fresh recruits primed to kill or be killed?

  Lazlo opened his eyes wider and, although it was painful, moved his head slowly from side to side. He tried to get Brovko’s attention without speaking out loud, but Brovko continued staring out the window.

  As the sun rose, its brightness through the windows overpowered the overhead light. When Brovko stretched and yawned, Lazlo stared at him, motioned with his head, and finally stuck out his swollen tongue and wagged it at Brovko.

  Brovko stood and came to Lazlo. “What’s that supposed to mean?”


  “I was trying to get your attention,” whispered Lazlo.

  “Why?”

  “I thought you might want to hear another Hungarian song. I can sing one for you.”

  Brovko smiled. “You have a sense of humor.” Then Brovko looked over Lazlo’s shoulder and frowned. “However, I wouldn’t try any jokes on the major.”

  “I know. My cousin and I didn’t laugh all night. Apparently he’s sleeping?”

  “Your cousin?”

  “Komarov.”

  “He appears to be sleeping.”

  “Then I’d like to ask you something.”

  “What?”

  “I’d like to ask the same question you did. Why does he want the women and children?”

  Brovko stared at Lazlo for a moment. Then he went to the sink and came back with a glass of water. He held the water to Lazlo’s lips.

  The rooster had crowed, the sun was up, and budding trees surrounding the house were capped in orange. Nikolai reached out and switched off the Volga’s engine. He lowered the window slightly and listened to the birds. It was a fine spring morning, and Nikolai relished the moment of peace until, in the distance, he heard the sound of an engine laboring up the hill.

  Nikolai left the Volga and walked out on the road. When the bus carrying farm workers topped the hill, Nikolai signaled it to stop. The driver, a heavy man with several chins, looked worried.

  “Bela Sandor won’t be going with you today,” said Nikolai.

  “Is he ill?” asked the driver.

  “Yes. You can try again tomorrow.”

  “But tomorrow is Sunday. We won’t be working tomorrow.”

  While the bus turned around, the few farmers on the bus looked out at Nikolai as if he were a monster. When Nikolai returned to the Volga, Captain Brovko was inside.

  “I told the bus driver Bela Sandor was ill.”