June light was filtering through the drawn curtains. The room was small, with the furnishings reminiscent of a hotel room. There was a bed, a bedside table, a vanity with a large mirror, and two armchairs placed next to a small round table. Carefully and methodically, Nikolai started moving around, inspecting everything. He did not know what he was looking for, but he was reasonably certain that he would recognize it when he found it.
He glanced at jars of face cream, bottles of hand lotion, and an assortment of brushes, eye shadow boxes and other beauty accessories on the vanity. Nothing there was of interest to him, so he kept looking. The nightstand was filled with books, mostly romance novels, their covers showing scantily clad women embraced by broad-shouldered handsome men. Ekaterina was certainly the romantic type, and her age was about right for a keen interest in love stories, real and manufactured.
Nikolai opened the top drawer of Ekaterina’s dresser. It was filled with towels, sweaters, socks, and other items one would expect to find there. He carefully lifted the items, checking the bottom of the drawer. There was nothing. Nikolai was about to close it when he felt a rectangular object in one corner. When he pulled it out, he saw that it was a small box. Inside were a pair of earrings, a golden chain, and one ring. Like most people, Ekaterina thought that keeping her valuables hidden in a clothes drawer would keep them safe. Nikolai closed the box and put it back into the corner.
He was not looking for money that Marina told him about, and he was not looking for any signs of money. He knew he would not find any. Obviously, Ekaterina would not keep the money here, especially if she wanted to hide whatever was going on. Nikolai was looking for anything that would give him insights into who Ekaterina was. Any such information would give him some ideas about what to do next. At least, he hoped it would.
He checked the middle drawer. More clothes and underwear, some lingerie, and a bottle of massage oil. He carefully lifted the objects one by one and put them back in their places exactly as they had been. He was about to close the drawer when something got his attention. It was a sheath made of black leather with the word “kobra” engraved on it. Kobra. A small multi-purpose dagger -- that’s what Nikolai expected to find inside the sheath. But the sheath was empty.
He knelt on the floor and opened the bottom drawer. All he saw were summer dresses and skirts on top. Below them he found a couple of woolen hats, a colorful winter scarf, a pair of gloves, and a small photo album. Nikolai pulled it out and looked through it, hoping to find something between its pages. Perhaps a letter? A bank statement? A handwritten note? But there was nothing. Only photos. There were a few nature shots but most pictures were of Ekaterina and a young man smiling, making faces, sitting on the couch, standing by a small lake, or eating ice-cream at the table. The pictures would have been nothing unusual if it were not for one significant fact. The young man was Pavel.
Nikolai paused and thought about what that meant. Pavel was clearly her boyfriend. And that meant that she lied to Nikolai about having a boyfriend who worked somewhere in town and who did not like that she spent so much time at Roman’s estate. Why would she lie about it? And why did Pavel go along with the lies and never let on in their interactions that they were a couple?
Nikolai had no answer for any of these questions, so he kept leafing through the pages, not finding anything else unusual. On some pictures, Ekaterina looked quite chubby. Too much ice-cream perhaps. He kept looking. More smiling faces, silly hats, a decorated tree in the winter. He turned the page. Another close-up shot of Ekaterina and Pavel. The page felt thicker than the rest because there was something else behind the picture. Nikolai pulled out the picture behind the close-up shot and almost gasped. He was now holding a full-length picture of Ekaterina. She was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a pink long-sleeved shirt. Like in some previous pictures, she looked chubby, but her chubbiness took on a different and obvious form. Standing sideways, Ekaterina was clearly posing for the camera. And what she was displaying in this particular picture was her stomach. Her very large stomach that could have been caused by one reason only. Ekaterina was pregnant.
Chapter Nineteen
Nikolai stared at the picture for a few moments, then carefully put it back. He closed the photo album and put it back in the drawer, making sure to leave things exactly as he had found them, and walked out of the room. When he was half-way down the hallway to the kitchen, two things happened at the same time. Ekaterina came out of the kitchen to tell him dinner was ready, and his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Marina. Nikolai arranged to meet her the next day for lunch at the Old Arbat Tea House, clicked off and walked into the informal dining area adjacent to the kitchen where Ekaterina had already set the table.
Roman was slicing a loaf of dark rye bread, and Pavel was filling soup bowls with piping hot borsch from a large pot. He just finished filling the last bowl when his phone buzzed.
“I apologize,” Pavel said. “I have to take it. I know it’s Filip. He said he would call if he needed my help. I’ll be right back.”
“Come back soon,” Ekaterina said. “And bring Filip. He needs to eat, too.”
“Thank you,” Pavel said. “I appreciate it.”
I appreciate it, Nikolai repeated in his mind. Could Pavel be any more formal? It was obviously a deliberate effort on Pavel’s part to hide his relationship with Ekaterina. But why? And was it possible that Nikolai was the only one who knew?
“Ekaterina is a wonderful cook,” Tatiana said. She was sitting in an armchair placed at the far end of the table, Anastasia on her lap. “I wouldn’t be able to be a good mom without her help.”
Ekaterina smiled and thanked Tatiana, then turned to Nikolai. “Would you like some salad? The tomatoes and the cucumbers are from our garden. The salad goes well with chicken and mashed potatoes.”
When Nikolai first saw dinner served to and eaten by Roman’s family and employees together, he was surprised at the unusual arrangement, so he asked Roman about it. He told Nikolai that such arrangement worked best for his management style: he thought of his employees as his team, and he wanted to treat them as equals. During the work week, everyone employed on the property was welcome to have meals at the dining table or take their meals to go if they were working on a project or if space was limited. Anyone who planned to have any meal simply needed to let Ekaterina know the night before. Roman believed that sharing meals built loyalty, trust, and promoted communication -- all aspects critical to a well-run business. Sitting down at the table tonight, Nikolai wondered if that rational-sounding theory, especially when it concerned loyalty, went wrong for Roman. He wondered if one of the people who shared meals with the family developed the intent to harm Roman after getting the job or if they got the job in order to get access to Roman. Nikolai was also worried that such open access to the food and to the kitchen would make it possible for somebody to poison Roman and his family. And that was the main reason Nikolai decided not to ask Ekaterina about her relationship with Pavel, her pregnancy and the baby. He wanted to take some time to think about it and to do some research on his own. A lot was still unknown, and Nikolai did not want to risk putting someone else’s life in danger by asking questions too soon and not being prepared enough for what the answers might uncover. And if Ekaterina or Pavel had something to hide, Nikolai certainly did not want to alert them to the fact that he now knew their secret, or at least a part of it.
Nikolai watched Tatiana fill her plate and sit down in the corner of the table, Anastasia still on her lap. Roman hurried to finish his soup, then took Anastasia to allow Tatiana to catch up with her meal. After a while, Anastasia got restless and fussy. Ekaterina handed her a small plastic spoon.
“What’s that for?” Roman asked. “She isn’t ready for solid food yet.”
“I know.” Ekaterina smiled. “But she likes chewing on the spoon.”
“She may be teething already,” Tatiana said.
For a few minutes, Anastasia was quietly sucking on and chewing the
spoon but soon she started flailing her arms around, spilled Roman’s food and threw her spoon on the floor. Ekaterina rushed to clean up, and Nikolai picked up her spoon.
“I’ll get a clean one, don’t worry about it,” Ekaterina said. “Just toss it in the trash.”
Nikolai took a small plastic bag from the counter, opened the trash container and closed it again. Instead of throwing the spoon away, he put it into the bag and slipped the bag into his pocket.
Chapter Twenty
That night, Leonid called with questions about the investigation. His voice sounded tired, flat, dispirited.
“Karina isn’t handling things well,” Leonid said. “She’s too wrapped up in the news about this investigation, waiting to learn something new, hoping that the killer will be caught. But we have waited long enough. No leads, only anguish for us. And her boys are feeling it, too. They need her attention, and she can’t give it to them when all she thinks about is this murder. But all these contract killings end up as cold cases, don’t they?”
“Sometimes,” Nikolai said. “But sometimes, they get solved. You need to be patient. This investigation is far from over.”
“It might as well be,” Leonid said. “False hopes are not good for the family. I want to move on, spend my time honoring Grisha instead of thinking about his phantom killer.”
“I’m not giving up yet.”
“Maybe, you should. Think of Karina. She needs to move on. She has kids to take care of. And let Grisha rest in peace. I’m only thinking about what’s best for my brother and for Karina. And you should be, too.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but isn’t it too early to be thinking about moving on? The impression I got from Karina is that she wants the case to be solved.”
“Of course, and so do I, but the reality is that it won’t be solved. You and I both know that. And Karina knows that, too. We need to put this behind us. All of us. But if you hear anything before I do, please let me know.”
Nikolai promised to do so and hung up the phone. Leonid’s desire to move on felt somewhat rushed and in contradiction to what he had told Nikolai recently, but Nikolai wasn’t about to judge him. People handled grief in different ways, and Leonid was concerned about Karina’s feelings and was probably simply trying to protect her.
Nikolai was still thinking about Leonid and Karina when he walked into the Old Arbat Tea House at noon the next day. Despite its central location, the tea house was relatively quiet at this time of day. It did most of its business early in the morning, for breakfast meetings, and late at night when it turned into a popular jazz club. In the middle of the day, it was usually empty, and that was why Nikolai picked it for his meeting.
He saw Marina as soon as he stepped inside. She was sitting in a booth in the far corner, dressed in black slacks, black low-heeled shoes, and a navy blue blouse. The table was set for two, and Marina was sipping tea from a china cup. A small white porcelain teapot was in front of her. Nikolai walked over to the booth, greeted Marina, and slid in.
A waiter appeared next to them almost instantly. Nikolai ordered borsch with rye bread, and Marina asked for chicken salad.
“You first,” Marina said when the waiter was out of earshot. “What did you find out?”
“I searched Ekaterina’s room, and I saw a picture of her pregnant. No picture of the baby. But I found lots of pictures of her and Pavel together. They are definitely a couple.”
“Interesting,” Marina said. “Have you ever heard her mention the baby?”
“Never. And neither had Pavel.”
“I wonder why. Do you think the baby died?”
Nikolai shrugged. “It’s possible, I guess.”
“And maybe that’s why Ekaterina never talks about it. Too painful,” Marina said. “But you look like you don’t believe this explanation.”
“I want to think of all possibilities.”
“All right. You think it was something more complicated?”
“Usually, the simplest explanations work the best,” Nikolai said. “Let’s think logically. Ekaterina and Pavel are not married, and they go out of their way to hide their relationship. The pregnancy was an accident. It had to be. And there are plenty of couples who want kids, so it’s possible they gave the baby up for adoption. In return, the grateful couple paid her.”
“In other words, she gave up her baby for money,” Marina said. “Illegal but not uncommon.”
“She had an unwanted and unexpected pregnancy, and there was someone else who wanted a child. Plenty of childless couples look for babies to adopt. This way is easier than going the official adoption route. Faster and better financially for everyone involved.”
The waiter arrived with their order. He put the soup and the bread in front of Nikolai, the salad next to Marina.
“It’s only a theory,” Nikolai said after the waiter left. “Maybe, there was no adoption. Maybe, it’s something else.”
“Do you think Anastasia is Ekaterina’s baby?” Marina said.
“Roman and Tatiana adopted the baby and hired the mother to work as a cook? That’s hard to believe.”
“Unless they didn’t really adopt the baby. Ekaterina could be the surrogate mother of Roman and Tatiana’s baby.”
“A surrogate mother, huh? I haven’t thought of that option.”
Marina nodded. “It’s getting popular now. Two of my close friends did it when they ran out of fertility treatment options. The baby is biologically theirs, but another woman carried it through the pregnancy. And if that’s what happened in Ekaterina’s case, it would explain the money in her account.”
“It’s possible, but like I said before, wouldn’t it be strange for them to hire Ekaterina as a cook?”
“Not really,” Marina said. “Most couples looking for a surrogate mother want to be close to her to make sure that she’s healthy throughout her pregnancy so that the baby is healthy. Often, they go to doctor’s appointments together and maintain close contact throughout the pregnancy.”
“But after the baby is born? Wouldn’t the new parents want some separation from the surrogate mother?”
“Most do, but we don’t know what was written in the surrogate pregnancy contract. Ekaterina’s employment could have been a condition.”
“Why would Roman and Tatiana agree to this condition?” Nikolai asked.
“Finding a surrogate mother is not as easy as it may seem, so Ekaterina could have had quite a bit of leverage in that arrangement. And maybe that’s why you couldn’t find her file at the employment agency.” Marina took a sip of her tea.
“It’s a good theory,” Nikolai said.
“It sounds like you have another explanation in mind. Do you?”
“Not really. The surrogate mother theory sounds like a possibility, but let’s think of other explanations, too. I believe in brainstorming.”
“Sure.” Marina nodded. “What else could it be?”
“Do you think Tatiana is the natural mother, but Roman is not the father?”
“You mean Tatiana had an affair but Roman doesn’t know?” Marina asked.
“I think it’s possible.”
“You think or you have proof?”
“I have my suspicions, but I don’t want to jump to any conclusions.”
For a few moments, they ate in silence. The soup was hot and thick, and the sour flavor of rye bread was a perfect addition to the sweeter flavors of tomatoes and beets. Nikolai was no gourmet chef but he knew good borsch. When he was growing up, his grandmother always made borsch, and she always said that a good borsch solves many problems. He wished that were true now. He took another spoonful, then put his spoon down on the napkin. “Maybe, we’re thinking about all this wrong,” he said.
“How so?”
“We’ve been thinking of Roman as a businessman this whole time, and we may be missing the obvious.” Nikolai paused for a beat. “When a married man is killed, who is usually the first suspect?”
“The spouse, of course
,” Marina said. “You think Tatiana took out a contract on him?”
“It’s possible.”
“What would be her motive? And with a young child?”
“There could be a number of motives. Inheritance money, property, his companies, many things, whatever it says in the prenup, assuming they have one. And if they don’t, even more reasons for her to want him dead. She may want her freedom, but a divorce may be an option she doesn’t want to pursue.”
“You think murder is better than divorce?” Marina’s tone was suddenly sharp, full of disbelief mixed with anger.
Nikolai wondered why Marina was so emotional about the issue. Did she have a past where she was divorced? Did she think that Nikolai was passing judgments about divorced people? Nikolai paused before he answered, waiting for Marina’s anger to subside. “I don’t have to think anything. I’m single. I’m simply saying that things like that happen. Plenty of disgruntled spouses choose murder over divorce. Especially disgruntled spouses in very wealthy families.”
Marina was quiet for a moment. “It doesn’t seem likely in their case. They seem to genuinely care about each other.”
“I’m not saying Tatiana took out a contract on Roman, Marina. I’m simply saying that we need to be thorough in our investigation, and being thorough means checking this theory, if only to exclude Tatiana.”
“But even if Tatiana is the one who paid the killer to get rid of Roman, it doesn’t explain the money in Ekaterina’s account. Surely, Ekaterina isn’t the killer.”
“There could be a connection,” Nikolai said. He looked at Marina. “Let’s go back to our initial thoughts. Right away, we have established that this attempt was an inside job, that the killer was somebody who knows Roman’s driving habits very well. Do we still believe that?”
In the Crosshairs: Russian Historical Thriller (Nikolai Volkov Book 2) Page 9