Trinity: The Koldun Code (Book 1)

by Sophie Masson

  “Did he explain?” said Serebrov, leaning forward. His eyes were bright, but his body was very still, and once again Helen had the uncomfortable sense of watching a dangerous, predatory creature.

  “No. It just sounded to us like he was trying to …” He broke off as a cell phone chirped. Not his, but Volkovsky’s. “Excuse me,” Alexey’s godfather said, taking the phone out of his pocket and flipping it open. “I’ll just turn it off – no, wait. I think I’d better answer this.”

  “Who is it, Kolya?” said Alexey, sharply.

  For answer, his godfather showed him the number flashing on the screen. “It’s the St Petersburg office,” Alexey told Helen and Serebrov, as Volkovsky said, “Da?” into the phone, then listened. As he did, his eyes widened. He rapped out a question, and Helen saw the expression on both Alexey and Serebrov’s faces change. They were listening intently now as the phone conversation went on. Something was wrong, Helen could see that. But what? They could all speak and understand English, but her Russian was practically non-existent. And it was so frustrating not to be able to follow things.

  But Alexey had seen her expression, and understood. He whispered, “It’s Feodor, our office manager from Petersburg. Some thugs of Repin’s just burst into the office, tore it half to shreds, and terrorized the staff.”

  Helen’s eyes widened. But before she could speak, Volkovsky handed the phone to Alexey, who spoke rapidly into it. Clicking it off with a terse, “Da sveedanya,” goodbye, he turned to them.

  “That mongrel Repin,” he spat. “If he thinks he’s going to get away with it, he’s got another bloody thing coming. I’m going to get the police onto him right now.”

  Volkovsky said, “I doubt that would do much good. You know what they say about our dear friend Boris Alexandrovich Repin.”

  He shot a glance at Serebrov, who remarked, calmly, “That he has half the Petersburg force in his pocket. I happen to think that is not true – for nobody can quantify the exact number,” he added, drily.

  Volkovsky laughed. “Is that just Moscow prejudice speaking?” For the first time, there was warmth in his tone.

  “We have more than our share of rogues,” said the policeman, stolidly, “but I know Repin’s reputation all right. After all, he hardly confines himself to our celebrated city of culture, does he? And if he is after something, he usually gets it.” He looked at Alexey. “From what I overheard, those thugs announced they were delivering a message from Boris Alexandrovich to the boy who thinks he can fill a man’s shoes. I take it, then, this is directed at you, Alexey Ivanovich, and that you have decided to keep Trinity?”

  “Yes. Not only do I have no intention of selling to Repin or anyone like him, I have no intention of selling at all. In fact I have plans to reform the company and change its direction.”

  “I see. May I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.”

  “Why not simply transfer your company to Australia?”

  Alexey said, blankly, “What?”

  “I have heard it is a good country. A young, peaceful country. Without such dangers and obstacles as must face you here. And these days you could even help relocate key staff there.”

  Helen met Volkovsky’s glance. He was wondering where this was leading, as she was. Alexey said, quietly, “It is important to do it here.”

  “Why?”

  “I belong here. I am Russian. And so is Trinity. Corruption – it’s the curse of our country. You know that, officer. I am not interested in politics and never will be. I am not interested in power or fame. But I do believe in doing something within my own circle, something useful, something real, in the small way that I can.”

  Serebrov’s expression did not change, but Helen knew something in him had shifted. But all he said was, “I see.”

  Alexey said, fiercely, “And I will not allow thugs to dictate to us. Kolya, we leave for Petersburg as soon as possible.”

  “No,” said Volkovsky. “I mean, you must not go, Lyosha.” Alexey made a movement of protest, but Volkovsky held up a hand. “Please, listen to me, Lyosha. Can’t you see, that is exactly what Repin’s hoping for? That you’ll rush off in a fit of youthful passion and fall right into his trap – on his territory. No – let me go for you, while you stay here. Don’t play his game, Lyosha – be cunning. Patient. It won’t be what he expects.”

  “But you could be in danger too …” began Alexey.

  “I’m just an employee. This is aimed at the top. You heard what Feodor told us. The thugs were delivering a message meant for you.”

  “I agree,” said Serebrov, firmly. “It is exactly how these kinds of people think. Though it puzzles me as to why Repin should have his thugs broadcast his name like this. From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t usually operate in this manner. I assume you think that he was also behind the earlier attempt, the break-in?”

  “Stands to reason,” said Alexey.

  “Yes – but once again, it seems most unlike Repin to try and fail. If he’d sent people to break in, they’d have broken in, no question. This sounds more – amateur. And Repin is nothing if not professional. He is brutal and ruthless, but highly intelligent. Besides, I know that right now he’s on holiday in Egypt, with his family. We always keep a watching brief on such people, you know.”

  “I don’t see how that prevents our friend Boris from being behind this,” said Volkovsky, tartly. “In fact it makes it more likely, as he appears to be in the clear.”

  “True enough,” said the policeman, calmly. “But if you are to get to the bottom of this, you need to keep an open mind and not rush to conclusions.”

  Volkovsky nodded. “You’re right.” He turned to Alexey. “I should like to propose something, Lyosha. If the senior lieutenant is agreeable – and if you agree too of course – I should like to ask him to accompany me to Petersburg. His professional insights would be of great value to us in investigating this matter.”

  Alexey said, warmly, “I quite agree. Senior Lieutenant, would you consider helping us?”

  Helen watched Serebrov’s face as he said, calmly, “Why not? I’m certainly aware of Repin, but I’m equally sure he’s not aware of me, as a minor Moscow policeman. I have a good friend in the force in St Petersburg, he’s always very well-informed. And I have two weeks leave, so I do not have to account for my time.” His voice was steady and his face calm, but his eyes betrayed a certain satisfaction that Helen found troubling. But she did not know how to say it without looking like she was interfering in Trinity business. So she kept quiet.

  “Excellent,” said Alexey’s godfather. “Then it’s decided. We’ll catch the Petersburg plane from Yaroslavl first thing in the morning.”

  “Wait a moment,” said Alexey. “It’s possible we can catch up with Lebedev before he heads back home. He told us he was going to that cafe in town and not leaving before midday, remember?”

  “Yes, but that was because he thought we might change our minds about –” began Volkovsky, when Alexey cut him off.

  “So we have …” He looked at the clock. “It’s not quite midday. With any luck, we might just catch him.”

  “We’ll send Slava after him,” said Volkovsky. And he motioned to the bodyguard to come back in.

  *

  But it was a wasted journey, as Slava reported on his return. The cafe owner told him the man answering to Lebedev’s description had been and gone more than half an hour before. No, he had no idea where he was headed. Lebedev hadn’t confided in him. “He’s from Petersburg, so that’s probably where he’s gone,” Alexey said, “so tomorrow you can try and run him to earth too.” He seemed more relaxed, Helen thought, as the four of them sat over the remains of Katya’s fine buffet lunch. She didn’t feel relaxed, though. She was jumpy with the sense of something going on that she didn’t understand. She would have liked to share Alexey and Volkovsky’s confidence about Maxim’s presence, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t help remembering that vision of him yesterday in the night-time wo
od, and the gleam of satisfaction in his eye as he was brought into the charmed circle. Her veins hummed with unease. But she also saw Alexey was eager to discuss their plan of action in more detail with the other two men, so after coffee, she reluctantly got up and said she must be going home.

  Alexey insisted on driving her, though she tried to protest she was perfectly able to walk back by herself. On the way there, he said, “I keep saying this at the moment, I know – but I’m so sorry, Helen. I so much wanted us to spend the day together.”

  “It’s okay,” she said, gently. “I understand you have to sort this stuff out.”

  He flashed out, “That’s what makes it worse, because I feel like my hands are bloody tied, I have to let others do my dirty work for me and it pisses me off, it really does.”

  It was the first time she’d heard him sound so angry. She laid a placating hand on his arm. “Of course it’s frustrating, Alexey, I get that, but you know Nikolai’s probably right about Repin trying to trap you into rushing off to Petersburg.”

  “If it is bloody Repin and not some other puppet-master,” he retorted. “Yeah, yeah, I know, he’s probably right but that makes me even more pissed off. How can anyone take me seriously as Trinity’s new owner if I hide out in the backwoods like a frightened rabbit? This is my company now – I want to take responsibility. And that means putting my neck on the line if I have to.”

  Helen quivered. “Don’t say that.”

  He looked at her. “I’m not afraid, Helen.”

  “I know you’re not. I know you’re not scared of anything.” Her breath caught in her throat as a tremor prickled under her skin. “But the rest of us … we’re not like you, Alexey.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” he said, his tone changing, becoming gentler. “I’m just like everyone else. There are things that do scare me. Most of all, of – of not living a real life. Of hiding from things. Of not having the courage to do what I know is right.”

  She cried, “You have plenty of courage. You don’t need to prove it. You don’t!” She hesitated, then plunged in, “Alexey, that policeman … frankly, I don’t trust him. How did he just happen to be on the spot when your people rang up from Petersburg, and could then insinuate himself right into the thick of things?”

  “He didn’t insinuate himself. It was Kolya’s idea to ask him. He was here to ask about that Koldun file. And that idea he had about the memory card – it’s a great one. I always thought secrets were what got Dad and the others killed. If we can at least start unravelling some of them, then maybe we can get closer to finding out what happened to them.”

  She swallowed. “Do you think – do you think Repin might be behind that too?”

  “I don’t think so. Repin might have seen an opportunity when the company was left without anyone to run it, as he thought. But three murders is quite another thing. If there was a hint of that, the police would have got onto it.”

  “But you heard what they said about Repin having the police in his pocket.”

  “Yeah, but Dad and his partners were pretty influential and had some very powerful connections. No way even someone like Repin would want to touch them. But I don’t have any connections, and I’m young. That’s why he probably thinks I can be bullied into giving up. My instinct is that Senior Lieutenant Serebrov is a straight shooter and has no connection to Repin or any other gangster.”

  “I still think there’s something a bit odd about him,” she said, stubbornly. “Listen to this.” And she told him what she’d seen, the night before.

  “I’m sure there’s a good explanation for it,” Alexey said, after she’d finished. “But I’ll ask him about it.” He looked at her, and said, quietly, “Helen, he is a sad man. A man who has been disillusioned by life, but who still believes in doing things right. A man who has suffered, and who is to be trusted.”

  “But how do you know that?”

  “I just do,” he said, simply. “I – I sense things about people.”

  “But – how …” She trailed off as she remembered him insisting on shaking Serebrov’s hand.

  His expression now showed he guessed what she was thinking. “Oh, it doesn’t always happen. But I know, when it does – that I must trust it. Besides,” he added, with a little smile, “Kolya has good judgment, about people. Sums them up pretty well. And I am certain he’d never, ever have asked our friend to join him if he thought there was any problem. In fact, I think he feels it’s better to have the persistent copper inside the tent with us, as it were. If you get my meaning.”

  “So he can keep an eye on him?”

  “Precisely,” said Alexey, with a faint smile.

  “Well, I agree,” said Helen.

  “Good. Because then, between us, we have the situation sorted.”

  He pulled in at the side of the road and stopped the car. He reached over to her and took her in his arms. “But that’s quite enough of that now,” he said, tenderly. “Tomorrow – let’s forget about all of this. Let’s ditch the guard dogs and go off on our own. How does that sound?”

  “Wonderful.” For the moment nothing mattered but his nearness, and the promise of the next day.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, Helen woke from an uneasy sleep to find that a rain, soft and insistent as muffled footsteps, was padding at the window. Going downstairs, dressed in a light jumper over a denim skirt, she was a little surprised to find Sergey in the kitchen with her mother. They were going to Yaroslavl today, Therese reminded Helen. She’d hardly been listening when her mother had mentioned it last night, her mind too full of all that had happened at Alexey’s.

  “You sure you and Alexey don’t want to come along, darling?” Therese said. “It’s not very nice weather for the picnic you’re planning, is it?”

  “We’ll manage. But thanks.”

  She watched from the window as they left, noticing how the old blue Lada was polished so that it shone, and how smartly turned out Sergey was, in his dark gray trousers, white shirt and black jacket, his salt-and-pepper hair surely newly cut. Noticed too, the bright, animated look on her mother’s face as Sergey ushered her into the car. It was clear that Therese was looking forward to a day out with the taxi driver. He wasn’t the kind of man her mother usually went out with, but so what? Why shouldn’t her mother want to break out of habit too, to be free, to take a risk? I can only give her my blessing, Helen thought, and smiled. Not that her mother would ask her permission!

  The rain had quite eased by the time Alexey turned up on the motorbike, and they decided to keep to their original plan. He didn’t say much about what had happened yesterday, other than that his godfather and the policeman had left early that morning and would call in the evening, and by common unspoken consent they left it at that. The next few hours belonged to them, and them alone, and were not to be clouded by anything else.

  They roared off, spinning down the road at an exhilarating rate, her arms around his waist, the wind whipping at her hair under the helmet he’d insisted she wear, though he himself went bareheaded, shouting with laughter as they took the corner and flew along the next road, startling a passer-by into jumping for the safety of a nearby hedge. Round the next corner came a big lumbering tractor and the driver waved a fist at them as they squeezed past him at the last minute. Racing on, they sped through the main square at such a rate that people and buildings went by in a blur of color. Not quite a troika, but the next best thing, Helen thought, happily.

  Out of town now, flying along a road that soon narrowed and turned into a track. And then they were in the forest, with big trees growing overhead on either side of the path. The bike’s wheels spun and crunched on the dirt and stones of the forest track, and Alexey had to slacken his speed. But though it was slower going, it did not seem to have rained as much here as in the town, for the track was almost dry. A little further, Alexey stopped in a kind of lay-by. “There’s this lovely place I know just in there,” he said, pointing into the trees. “You ca
n only go there on foot, there’s no track. Coming?”

  “Wait a moment, I want to take some photos of you,” she said, fumbling in her bag. “I haven’t even got any yet, you know.”

  “Well aren’t you lucky,” said Alexey, laughing, but he posed willingly enough for two or three, and then insisted he take photos of her, and then selfies of the two of them together, before he said, “That’s quite enough of the paparazzi session, I think,” and taking her by one hand, and the laden bike-bag in the other, he plunged with her into the forest by the side of the path.

  It was cool under the trees, fragrant with pine-scent, and quiet, the silence broken only by their footsteps, the odd bird call, and the skitterings of small animals, somewhere deeper in the forest. Dodging brambles and briars – one nearly sent Helen sprawling – they skittered through the forest themselves. Not for long, for they soon came to a beautiful little clearing, carpeted by lush green grass. Almost hidden from sight in one corner was a simple shelter, built of bark and twigs, which Alexey said was used by berry-pickers and mushroomers in the season, but was quite empty right now. But the loveliest and most unusual thing of all was the half-circle pattern of little creamy flowers, almost in the center of the clearing.

  “Well, what do you think?”

  She breathed, “It’s absolutely magic. And those flowers! It’s like a fairy ring. You can just imagine them dancing here.”

  He smiled, and bowing to her, he said, “Well, my sexy little fairy, may I have the pleasure of this dance?”

  “You may,” she said, laughing in delight and surprise, and they waltzed around together in a dance that had no real form but that made them both laugh in delight, and then Alexey started singing, an old song Helen recognized because it was on her mother’s favorite CD, a jazz number called “I Won’t Dance”. He had a baritone voice, rich and deep as black velvet or the darkest chocolate, and the sound of it made her tingle from head to toes. Then he asked her to sing with him, her voice and his mingling, their bodies drawing closer and closer, breathing in each other’s smell, the touch of each other’s warm skin, eyes in each other’s eyes.