In the Crosshairs: Russian Historical Thriller (Nikolai Volkov Book 2)

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In the Crosshairs: Russian Historical Thriller (Nikolai Volkov Book 2) Page 8

by Julia Gousseva


  He did not.

  “Don’t torment yourself with what could have been.” Olga put her small hand over Nikolai’s.

  He felt the warmth of her fingers.

  “Life’s fine. It’s what it is, and we can still be happy.” She squeezed his hand gently, then let go. “I know what you’re going to say. I’ve heard it all before. It’s about the future. Your job is dangerous, you don’t want to commit because you could die any day and leave me alone. You don’t want to have kids because you don’t want to leave them orphaned and all that other morbid stuff.”

  “You know me too well.”

  “Ready to order?” the waiter’s cheerful voice interrupted them.

  “I am,” Olga said. She ordered a fruit plate with yogurt and a croissant. Nikolai asked for dark rye toast with smoked salmon.

  “I don’t want to lecture you,” Olga said, “and I know better than to try and change you, so I’ll just say one more thing. Life is unpredictable. It’s always been unpredictable, even before Gorbachev came to power and all these changes started. You can’t completely control your future. Not now, not ever. So why not enjoy the present?”

  “I tend to plan and think of the worst possible case too much, you’re right,” Nikolai said.

  “And I understand that. I think your job is a large part of it. You have to expect the worst to avoid it. But your life is not only your job. And you may have forgotten how to enjoy life.”

  “Can you remind me?” Nikolai smiled.

  “Maybe.” Olga smiled and paused, then continued, “We haven’t been to a theater in a while.”

  Nikolai was quick to respond. “This weekend is season’s closing at the Bolshoi,” he said. He knew that Olga loved the ballet, they both did, and he checked the schedule of the Bolshoi Theater that morning. Just in case. “Are you free on Friday?” he asked.

  “I could be,” Olga said. “Especially for the closing weekend at the Bolshoi.”

  “I’ll take it as a yes,” he said.

  The waiter came back with their order, set the food on the table and left.

  “How’s your new job?” Nikolai asked,

  “I didn’t take it. I’m still at the old place.”

  “How come?”

  “I changed my mind.”

  “But why?”

  Olga leaned in closer. “You were right about chief accountants being liable for whatever wrongdoing happens in the company. That’s one reason.”

  “What’s another?”

  “A couple of days after Denis first mentioned he had a job for me, he called me, as he had promised and told me that the merger went through and that he was making the offer official. That afternoon, I went to Denis’s office to get my paperwork started. When I got there, the office was surrounded by SWAT teams, all entrances and exits blocked, all communication restricted. As usual, nobody knew what was going on. I tried calling Denis at his private number but got no answer. I tried his secretary. Same result. I tried a few other numbers of people close to him, but got no answer anywhere. Later that evening, his secretary called me and told me that the offer had been postponed. She gave no reason for it. A few days later, there was a small statement in the media that Denis was accused of money laundering and placed under house arrest.”

  “What were the exact charges?”

  “Supposedly, Denis made a deal to acquire Novneft, a small oil producer, one of the few not under state control, thus crossing the interests of the government. As usual, these accusations were used to keep him out of the oil business. A typical scenario, as you know.”

  Nikolai nodded. “Unfortunately. Is Denis still under house arrest?”

  “No surprise, the deal did not go through, so he was released a few days ago. The charges were never dropped, as it would mean an admission of wrongdoing on the part of the government, and that’s not going to happen.”

  “In other words, Denis realized that arguing with the government over ownership rights to oil companies can result in an involuntary move to Siberia and gave it up?”

  “These things have happened before, right?” Olga said. “But there’s more to the story. His young son was kidnapped around the same time and later returned, after Denis paid ransom.”

  “Things got really intense there, didn’t they?” Nikolai said. “I’m sorry you were caught in the middle of it.”

  “I’m much more sorry for Denis.”

  Nikolai nodded. “Of course. Can you tell me how it happened, the kidnapping?”

  “I was told that the boy was in the car with the mom and the driver. They stopped to get ice-cream, the mom got out of the car. The driver stayed in the front, and somebody grabbed the boy from the parked car. His door was unlocked.”

  “Did the police ever find the kidnappers?”

  “Still looking. But supposedly they know who to look for.”

  “So, who are they, the kidnappers?” Nikolai asked.

  “Why are you interested?”

  “The young daughter of my new client was almost kidnapped a few days ago.”

  “Do you think the two kidnappings are related?” Olga asked.

  “It’s hard to tell. Probably, not. Moscow is a big city. But it’s still worth looking into.” Nikolai thought some more. “Do you know how many children are kidnapped in Russia every year?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “About three hundred, and not all of them are kidnapped by the same people, of course.”

  “Three hundred? Close to one a day?” Olga said. “Has it always been that many?”

  “Nobody knows what these numbers were in the Soviet Union, but my guess would be that the numbers were lower. The most common reason for kidnappings is ransom, and nobody had any real money then. The number of kidnappings went up in the mid-1990’s, at the same time when businesses began developing, and Russia got its first millionaires.” Nikolai paused. “It’s no wonder that many of the rich send their kids abroad to study.”

  “But that’s older kids.”

  Nikolai nodded, picked up his cup, and swallowed some more of the tea.

  Olga watched him, looking pensive. Nikolai put his cup down and continued, “Are you sure the only thing the kidnappers wanted from Denis was money?”

  “That’s what I assumed, but I don’t know for sure,” Olga said.

  “They didn’t pressure him to give up on that Novneft acquisition deal, did they?”

  “I don’t know the details,” Olga said. “I only know that the boy was returned.”

  The waiter came back, bringing more tea and refilling their water glasses.

  “I’ve got something for you,” Nikolai said. He handed Olga a small parcel. Inside was the silk purple scarf.

  “How sweet of you.” Olga leaned over the table and kissed Nikolai lightly. “Thank you.”

  When she put the scarf around her neck, it accentuated her eyes, making them look deeper and more expressive. She was a beautiful woman. He was lucky to have a chance to spend some time with her today. And even luckier to have a second chance at their relationship.

  “It has been so nice seeing you again, Nikolai,” Olga said. She glanced at her watch.

  “I apologize,” Nikolai said. “I’m taking up too much of your time. I know you have to get back to work.”

  Moments later, they were walking across the small park to Olga’s office building. She stopped before going inside. Nikolai put his arms around her and held her for a long moment. “It was wonderful, Olechka. I’ll call you about Friday.”

  She smiled and went into the building. Nikolai stood by the entrance for another minute, still enveloped in Olga’s perfume.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Rublyovka Employment Agency was located on the first floor of a newly painted six-story apartment building with a playground in the front. Nikolai parked across the street and walked to the entrance. Two toddlers were happily digging in the wet sand, their mothers looking on from the nearby bench. The sounds of the kids’ voices
and laughter carried far in the crisp air. Nikolai always wondered how such tiny people could create so much noise and activity around them.

  He came up to the black metal door and pressed the intercom button. The intercom came to life with a gruff voice, barely understandable through the static. Nikolai gave the time of his appointment. The lock buzzed, and Nikolai pulled the door open. A uniformed guard sat in the small lobby. He nodded to Nikolai. “Third floor,” he said.

  Nikolai thanked the guard, climbed three flights of stairs, and stopped in front of another metal door. A laminated sign was taped to the door with the words Rublyovka Employment Agency typed on it in large black font. Another intercom button was on the wall to the right of the door. These people definitely took their security seriously, or at least thought they did. Nikolai pressed the button and went through the same routine as before.

  The employment agency consisted of one large room with five desks placed around the walls and windows, the employees typing on their keyboards and watching the monitors. The decor of the agency was a peculiar combination of institutional and cozy. The walls were painted a drab green, but the windows had bright flowery curtains. All desks were the same: no-nonsense dark wood, with three drawers on the right-hand side, just like the one Nikolai and all his friends had when they were growing up. But the desk lamps varied greatly: from simple office lamps to Tiffany-style stained glass ones.

  “Hello, Nikolai.” A woman dressed in a black skirt and a black jacket over a white blouse greeted him. Her blond hair was pulled back in a neat bun, her makeup was minimal, and she wore no jewelry besides a wedding ring. “I’m Irina. We talked on the phone.”

  “Thank you for meeting with me.”

  “Let’s go to my office,” Irina said after they shook hands. “It’s hard to get any privacy out here.” She led him to a door off the main room, opened it, and walked inside.

  The office was small but nicely decorated, with potted plants on the window sill and a variety of landscape paintings on walls. Nikolai had seen many paintings like that sold by artists on Arbat Street. In the corner of the room was a small cabinet covered with red plastic tablecloth with an electric kettle, a tea pot, a carafe with water, and a coffeemaker on it.

  “Have a seat,” Irina said and pointed to a leather chair across from her desk. “Tea or coffee?”

  “Coffee please.”

  Irina walked over to the small cabinet in the corner, pushed some buttons on the coffeemaker, and almost immediately, the room filled with the scent of fresh coffee and the sound of gurgling. “Roman asked me to give you any information we have on the people we hired for him, so what can I do for you?” Irina asked Nikolai.

  “First, can you tell me what your usual procedure is. Let’s say, I want a job. How would I go about it?”

  “You can ask for a type of job you’re looking for and a salary range. Then, you’d have to submit your resume, and we match you with available positions. If there’s no match, we wait for a position to become available. Once it does, we check your references, run some background checks, and set up an interview. First with us, then with the employer. We’re very thorough.”

  “Sounds reasonable. Do you keep computer records or do you have paper files?”

  “Both.” Irina reached under her desk and pulled out a large box. She set the box on the table in front of Nikolai. “Here are all the files of Roman’s employees. Everyone’s here, from the gate guards to the nanny. You can’t take the files out of the agency but feel free to look through them here.”

  The coffeemaker in the corner quieted down, and Irina got up. “Cream or sugar?”

  “Black please.”

  Irina poured some coffee into a large green cup, put it on the desk in front of Nikolai, and stepped out of the office into the main room. Nikolai placed his briefcase on the chair next to him, took out his laptop, set it next to the box, and started pulling out employee files one by one, carefully reading and checking the files against the information in his records. Irina kept excellent records, and Nikolai found detailed information about all the employees.

  All except one.

  Ekaterina’s file was not in the box.

  Nikolai took the last sip of his coffee and leaned back in the chair, thinking.

  “Need more time?” Irina’s voice sounded cheerful as she entered the office.

  “No, no. I’m done. Thanks.” Nikolai set his laptop aside, waiting for it to finish the updates. “So, these are all the files for Roman?”

  “Every single one. Did you find what you were looking for?” Irina sat down across from Nikolai.

  “Most of it, thank you.”

  “We’ve been working with Roman for a long time, finding employees for many of his ventures. And we haven’t had a single complaint.”

  “Glad to hear. You do keep excellent records.”

  Irina smiled. “Our agency might not look very impressive, but we’ve been voted the best employment agency in Rublyovka for three years in a row.”

  Nikolai wondered how many employment agencies the small Rublyovka area could possibly have but didn’t ask.

  “More coffee?”

  “Sure. Thank you.”

  Irina refilled Nikolai’s cup and came back to the desk. “We offer good jobs and decent salaries, so everyone comes here to get hired,” she said. “We have many more applicants than positions. Good jobs are hard to get.”

  “That’s understandable.” Nikolai took a sip of his coffee.

  “Of course. But we get all types here. Sometimes, people come who don’t even know what they want. Or they want something strange.” Irina shook her head.

  “Like what?”

  “One girl came and said she wanted to be a model.” Irina chuckled. “Not to be judgmental, but she was overweight, with acne, and had bad posture. Another time, a guy without a driver’s license wanted to be a driver. He thought we would train him. Then, a girl came who didn’t even inquire about a salary. All she wanted was to work in a specific family.”

  “Do you know why?”

  Irina shrugged. “She was probably in love with somebody there. It happens. We don’t take requests to work for a specific company or family, and that’s what I tell these girls. We get all types here, you know. Many people come to us. More than you can imagine.”

  “Do you keep files on people you don’t place?”

  “Not all of them, only the highly qualified ones. We keep their information for about a year, in case something opens us for them.”

  “How often do you get these special requests? About getting placed with a certain family or company?”

  “Every once in a while. We had one last year.” Irina paused. “Come to think of it, she was asking to work for Roman.”

  “What did you do?”

  “Denied her request, of course. What else would I do?”

  Nikolai clicked a few keys on his laptop and waited for Ekaterina’s picture to come up. “Is this the girl?” He turned the laptop towards Irina.

  Irina glanced at the picture, then looked at it closer. “No, it’s not her. The girl who came here was much younger, much thinner, and much prettier. ”

  “It’s not that hard for a woman to change her looks, you know.”

  Irina sighed and looked straight at Nikolai. “Over my time at the agency, I’ve been a blonde, a brunette, and a redhead. I dress like this -- she pointed to her business suit -- in the daytime. At night, I wear leather and ride a motorcycle. And you’re telling me about change?”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two hours later, Nikolai was at the estate. He parked and headed straight for Filip’s office.

  Filip was standing behind his desk, the light from the window illuminating a pile of folders and papers on top of the mahogany surface.

  “Do you have a minute?” Nikolai asked.

  “Just one. What do you want?” Filip said without looking up from the files.

  “I want to talk about Ekaterina.”

&n
bsp; “What about her? She’s a cook.”

  “Who hired her? Was it you?”

  “Of course, not.” Filip put down the file he was looking at and stared at Nikolai. “I don’t hire anyone. We use the employment agency. They do background checks and all the other things that are supposed to ensure quality and safety.”

  “I just came from the agency. There’s no information on Ekaterina there. They said they did not refer her.”

  “So?”

  “Who hired her?”

  “My guess? Probably, the previous property manager. He did lots of things he wasn’t supposed to and he wasn’t the most organized person. That’s why he’s no longer here.”

  “Would Roman know?”

  “He might but I doubt it. And I’m not going to bother him with this. If you want to talk to him, be my guest.”

  Filip walked towards the door, his body language clearly indicating that the conversation was over. Nikolai smiled pleasantly and walked out of Filip’s office into the hallway. His phone buzzed, and he picked up. Marina’s voice sounded calm but firm, “Can you talk now? I’ve found something I need your help on.”

  “What is it?” Nikolai saw Filip’s office door close, but he kept walking to make sure he was out of earshot.

  “I’ve been doing some background checks, and what I’m finding about Ekaterina seems suspicious,” Marina said. “No previous employment history, no school records, and no information on how she got the job with Roman.”

  “Interesting,” Nikolai said. “I just came from the employment agency, and they have nothing on her, and neither does Filip. He blamed the lack of records on the old property manager.”

  “I found some records on her,” Marina said. “Her financial situation is much better than she lets on. In the last quarter, somebody deposited a large sum of money into her bank account. A very large sum.”

  “Somebody?”

  “It was a cash deposit, and I haven’t been able to find its source.”

  The grandfather clock in the hallway struck six.

  “I’ll call you back.” Nikolai clicked off, slipped the phone in his pocket and walked to Ekaterina’s room. She kept to a strict schedule, and she was always in the kitchen by six o’clock, making dinner. After making sure there was nobody in the hallway, Nikolai entered her room, and closed the door behind him.

 

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