by Janet Rogers
He waited for her reaction, but she simply stared at him.
‘I’m so sorry, Amelia. I acted without thinking it through. I should have told you, I realise now. I’m very, very sorry.’
Amelia felt her breathing slow down and eventually she was able to nod.
‘Half of my problem has been not knowing, Patrick,’ she said quietly. ‘You can’t sleep, you can’t move, all you can think about is your loved one and an unknown fate. Or worse, you imagine all the possible fates that could have befallen him – in a ditch somewhere; being tortured by gang members; with memory loss or a gunshot to his head . . .’ Patrick winced at her words. ‘It all plays out in front of your eyes. And each little scrap of information may help to dispel those images. Do you understand?’ she asked angrily, urgently.
He nodded. ‘I think I do. I’m terribly sorry, Amelia.’
She couldn’t say anything more and for minutes they sat in thick silence, unable to look at one another.
‘Will you pass on to me anything new that you receive?’
‘Of course. Immediately, I promise.’
Amelia picked up her belongings and without a further word left Patrick’s office. He had the good sense to let her go without fuss. She walked down the corridor and stopped only to glance briefly at Robert’s smiling face on the wall. I miss you, she told him wordlessly and left the warm embassy for the cold, snowy streets.
In the enclosed room at the very top of the National Hotel the smell of chlorine was strong in the heavy, humid air. Amelia’s shoulders ached, but the solitude and exertion that never failed to empty her mind of worry brought some relief and she turned to do another lap in the pool. She felt better, but just couldn’t rid herself of tension entirely and her thoughts returned stubbornly to the events of the day.
As if her conversation with Patrick hadn’t been enough, she felt generally uneasy about the day’s experiences. Something was bothering her. Was it Legault? Could he be trusted? He seemed so kind, but had he not been overly accommodating? Could it really be possible that he had only one thin file covering all the events around Robert’s disappearance?
Or was it simply a matter of her own sense of guilt about not reaching out to Ratna during the past year that was troubling her? She’d been so wrapped up in her own heartbreak that other people’s struggles hadn’t even entered her mind. She continued swimming, lap after lap, hoping the physical exhaustion would wipe out, if only temporarily, the confusion in her mind.
Finally, unable to go any further, she took the last stroke and reached for the pool’s side. At the moment she raised her head from the water and leaned her arms on the edge of the pool for a brief rest, she knew with absolute certainty that something had changed in the pool room since her last lap.
The air seemed different, altered.
Quickly she looked around, but there was no one else in the room. Nothing appeared out of place. Her towel was still lying at the other end of the pool. Could it be her imagination? She held her breath to see if she could hear anything. Nothing. Apart from the gentle lapping of the water, the room was still. But something didn’t feel right.
Her room key. It should be underneath her towel. Hurriedly she climbed out of the pool and ran over to where she’d left her things. The towel looked undisturbed, but when she lifted it to check if the room key was still there, she stopped dead. There, on top of her key, lay an envelope. It was identical to the one she’d received before.
She snatched up her towel and key and ran out of the room. The gym’s reception vestibule was empty and the counter deserted. She called out and after a few moments, a young woman appeared from a back room, her arms laden with fresh towels.
‘Was anyone here just now?’ she demanded. ‘Did anyone go in there?’ she asked again when the bewildered girl didn’t answer immediately. Amelia willed herself to slow down, realising the girl’s English was probably not good enough to understand.
‘Did you see anyone go in there?’ she asked more slowly. Only when she attempted the question in Russian did the girl react with a shake of her head.
‘In the last ten minutes? Are you sure?’
‘I see nobody,’ the girl answered in English. Amelia glanced at the back room she’d emerged from. If she’d been busy in there for a while, it would have been very easy for someone to slip in unnoticed.
‘Everything is okay?’ the girl asked, suddenly remembering her guest relations training. Anxiety was clear on her face, the dread that something might have gone wrong on her watch clearly causing significant distress.
Amelia hesitated, but knew she would gain nothing by pressing the girl further. ‘It’s okay, don’t worry.’
She pulled the towel closer around her wet body and went back into the pool area. She looked into the room that held the treadmills and other exercise equipment, both the washrooms and twice she circled the entire pool area, her heart pounding. Nothing was out of place. Finally she looked down at the wet envelope in her hands. Opening it, she could see that the note was written on a bright yellow square folded into one triangle and then another, exactly like the first. The printed message was as simple as the previous one.
You do not belong here anymore. Go.
Moscow – 18:00
He was on his way out, relishing the thought of a rare early evening, but there was one more call he had to take before the day’s business could be finalised. The phone he carried with him at all times now was on his desk already. It started ringing on cue.
‘It’s me.’
‘Good. Anything?’
‘Nothing. Just a quiet life in London.’
‘London?’
‘Dual citizenship.’
‘Hmm. No contacts, no movements?’
‘Nothing from her side. Renovated an old place, kept to herself, rarely went anywhere.’
‘Any sign of her own people, or her husband’s?’
‘No, but both sides of the ocean must have kept an eye on her. Right now I’m told they’re all invisible over there.’
‘Okay, that’s good. Come see me tomorrow. I’m getting some pressure about her being here.’
‘From . . . ?’
‘Yes, you know. He’s on the verge of panicking.’
‘Want me to handle it?’
‘No, it’s a delicate situation. But there’s something else I’d like to discuss in person. Something I want you to do.’
‘I’ll be there.’
10
Only when she emerged from the bathroom did Amelia notice the blinking light on the room’s telephone. She dialled in to listen to the message. It was a surprise to hear Nick Sanford’s recorded voice.
Hi this is a message for Amelia Preston. It’s Nick, Nick Sanford, Amelia. My movements are a little uncertain for the next few hours, but I’ll try to stop by your hotel this evening. I shouldn’t be too late. There are some things we should talk about. And sooner would be better if it’s possible for you. All right, eh, see you later. Oh, it’s about five o’clock now. Bye.
Amelia glanced at her watch. It was almost eight. Although it was impressive that he was getting back to her so soon after their first meeting, she wasn’t sure she could handle any more surprises after the day she’d had. The pool episode had shaken her. That someone had been able to come so close to her to leave the note was an uncomfortable thought. Should she pay heed to the messages and go back home? Was she crazy to continue her pursuit of the truth? Probably.
And yet. Things we should talk about, he’d said.
She dried her hair and as she stood before the closet, considering the few garments to choose from, she found that, despite her frazzled nerves, she was glad that she’d be seeing Nick Sanford again. He offered her a neutral perspective and was the only person who had no involvement in her life or feelings about her or Robert. She needed that. He seemed calm and level-headed and she could use that kind of input right now.
She switched on the television simply to add sound to the otherwise
silent room, lying back on the bed to contemplate her options. She’d spoken to detective Kiriyenko and the embassy staff and had indeed learnt a few more things, but there were still no real leads to pursue. Only that the driver had been found, but of what value was he if he had no memory of the night Robert disappeared? What was her next step? There were so few alternatives to choose from and she felt so unqualified to make the right choices.
The telephone shrilled next to her.
‘Nick?’
‘It’s Cathy.’
‘Cathy! How lovely to hear your voice!’
‘And yours. Patrick told me you were back.’
Judging by her tone, it was clear that Cathy wasn’t too happy about having learnt the news from anyone other than Amelia herself.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t called yet, Cathy. I was planning to. There’s been so much to do, mostly admin and sorting through our things. Nothing terribly exciting, but it still has to be done.’
‘I didn’t know you were planning on coming back.’ Again there was the slightest hint off accusation in Cathy’s voice.
‘I wasn’t really planning it for very long. And sorry again, the last few days have been hectic.’
At last Cathy’s relented. ‘I understand. I’m certainly happy that I’ll have a chance to see you again.
‘Me too.’
‘I didn’t realise you had so much to do here.’
‘Yes, not ideal, is it?’
‘Well, don’t think you can escape me forever. That’s why I’m calling. There’s a Canadian women’s meeting at the embassy on Wednesday and I thought it would give you a chance to see some old faces.’
Oh no. ‘I don’t know, Cathy . . .’ It was the last thing she wanted to do. All those women looking at her, wondering, asking questions.
‘Please say you’ll come. I really need to – want to – see you. There’s so much to talk about.’
Had she heard a quiver in Cathy’s voice?
‘Please, Amelia. It’s been so long.’
Amelia sighed. Why was she finding it so hard to say no to people? All these distractions were complicating her return to Moscow. She couldn’t afford to lose focus. But something in Cathy’s voice sounded off. And she already felt bad about being so uninvolved in Ratna’s life in the past year.
‘Is everything all right, Cathy?’
‘Yes, yes, of course. Everything is fine.’ The answer was too breezy. Something was up.
‘Well, I suppose it won’t take too much time. Okay, I’ll come.’
‘Brilliant! And I won’t let you back out.’
‘I won’t.’
‘Good. Well, listen, I’ve got to go, it’s late and I still have to get dinner ready. I just wanted to be sure I caught you.’ ‘All right, thanks for the call. Give the girls a hug from me.’
‘Will do. By the way, who’s Nick??
‘Nick?’
‘You know, when you answered the phone. You thought it was Nick.’
‘Oh, nobody, just an acquaintance.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes, listen, Cathy, there’s another call waiting. I have to go.’
‘Okay, but don’t forget about Wednesday.’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t. See you then.’
It was a lie, of course. There was no other call waiting. She just didn’t want to field questions about Nick from Cathy or anyone else. The less people knew about what she was up to and what kind of help she was getting, the better.
Her words turned out to be prophetic though, because as soon as she’d put down the phone, it rang again, making her jump.
‘Hello?’ she answered, exhaling slowly to calm her racing pulse.
‘Mrs Preston? I am phoning from reception. Mr Sanford is here to see you.’
‘Oh, yes, thank you. Would you ask him to wait for me in the restaurant? I’ll be down in a few minutes.’
As she stepped out of the elevator, she walked straight into the hotel’s informal restaurant cum wine bar. It was surprisingly dark and when she glanced up at the restaurant’s high glass ceiling, she saw that the night was cloudy. Candles flickered on a few tables. In one corner an overweight businessman was leaning over to touch a very young Russian woman’s hand. The girl looked bored and Amelia wondered what she would have to endure in the night to come for the sake of a few dollars. Three other tables were occupied – there was a group of three well-dressed men in serious conversation, a lone woman who wore the dazed look of a new expat in town and at the last table Nick was getting to his feet as she approached. His size nearly stopped her in her tracks. Although he was relatively slender, his height made him look like a Swedish giant. Strange that she hadn’t really noticed it before.
‘Hello,’ she smiled and sat down.
He returned her smile. ‘How are you today?’
She rolled her eyes, surprised at her ability to make light of such a nightmarish day. ‘Don’t ask.’ He seemed a little unnerved by the change in her demeanour since their first meeting, so she continued. ‘You? How was yours?’
He let out a sigh. ‘It was certainly interesting.’
She glanced at the mineral water and half-drunk coffee in front of him when the waiter approached their table.
‘Have you eaten?’ she asked.
He shook his head.
‘Shall we have something? I’m starving.’
‘Eh, yes, but I don’t think we should talk here.’
Amelia sat back. What was she doing? For a moment she’d chosen to believe she was unimportant and untouchable, that she could have dinner and a conversation with a harmless acquaintance, that those who had already hurt Robert could no longer hurt her. She’d better get a grip on herself. Nick was right. The arrival of the second note was proof that her presence in Moscow had not only been noticed, but was making someone nervous. She would be foolish to ignore her situation, even if only for a few hours.
‘Shall we eat something first and talk later?’ she asked more soberly.
He hesitated, running his fingers through his blonde hair, looking ill at ease in his surroundings. ‘Let’s go for a walk, maybe eat something elsewhere?’
While they waited for the waiter to bring his bill, Amelia watched him shifting uncomfortably in the chair, which looked far too small for him. Had it not been for his eyes, he would have looked like a gentle, uncomplicated giant with his open, friendly smile, but his greyish-green eyes held something back, as if he’d discovered or experienced something during his life that kept him from being a simple man.
On the opposite side of the road, across from the National Hotel’s main entrance, Manezh Square was quiet. Cloud cover ensured that the night wasn’t freezing, but it was still brisk outside and by unspoken agreement they set off at a fast pace. The stale, warm air of the pedestrian underpass stood in sharp contrast to the night air and they hurried through the throngs of young people standing around in groups, smoking and drinking beer. They didn’t speak until they emerged from the underpass again.
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ Nick suddenly spoke next to her.
She looked up at him, surprised at the sentiment in such an obviously pragmatic man. She followed his gaze and for a moment they stood together in the cold night, looking at the vast red walls of the Kremlin, lit up by powerful lights.
‘It is, yes,’ she finally replied. ‘Beautiful and . . .’
‘Sinister?’
She nodded. ‘It’s almost tangible, isn’t it?’
‘Come on, I know a good sushi place,’ Nick interrupted their thoughts. ‘You do eat sushi, don’t you?’
‘I love it,’ she said, and felt unfamiliar contentment with the comfortable note between them. It felt good after the harrowing day she’d had.
‘I’ve discovered a few things, Amelia,’ he said as they walked across the ancient cobblestones in the direction of Lubyanka Square. ‘As I said, they’re certainly interesting.’
‘Tell me,’ she said, impatient to make progre
ss, to learn something of real value. ‘And just so you know, you don’t have to edit anything for my benefit. I’d prefer it if you didn’t.’
He looked at her before he spoke. ‘Okay. I’ll get right to it then. Your gut reaction to that article may very well have been the right one—’
‘Really?’ Amelia interrupted, suddenly out of breath at the prospect of taking a bigger step towards the truth.
‘Turns out, and this is only a rumour, mind, but I’ve heard variations of it from several different sources now, which makes it a little more believable.’ He hesitated, glancing at Amelia again. ‘It turns out that the diamond deposit the two companies are exploring may not be that valuable after all.’
‘What? What are you saying?’ Amelia stopped mid-stride, staring at him.
‘It sounds like the Canadians have discovered that the deposit isn’t as rich as it was once believed to be, and that’s the real reason why they wanted to get out now. That’s why they’ve sold their stake in the joint venture.’
Amelia stared down at the smooth cobbles under her feet. This was the first time since she’d made her decision to return to Moscow that someone had affirmed that she wasn’t completely mad to have started her search for the truth.
‘Can it be true? I can hardly believe it.’
‘Rather difficult to comprehend, isn’t it? According to what I’ve heard, the deposit may be considerably smaller than initially reported and therefore not as valuable.’
‘But this is unbelievable!’ Amelia’s mind reeled at the many possibilities this new piece of information presented. She found herself incapable of generating a single pertinent question and simply followed Nick through a narrow passage between two old buildings.
‘Here we are,’ Nick interrupted her chaotic thoughts, and quickly led her down a flight of stairs into a relatively quiet basement restaurant. Once they’d checked in their coats, he chose a table that had no other patrons next to it.
Amelia slumped into a chair. ‘So, I was right about one thing at least. This is proof. Something strange is going on.’