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

by Julia Gousseva

  “Why don’t you get a cup for yourself, too,” Nikolai said. “I have something important to ask you.”

  Ekaterina’s expression suddenly changed from relaxed to tense. “What is it about?”

  “Have a seat, and I’ll tell you.” Nikolai hoped he caught Ekaterina unawares, and she would tell him things he did not yet know. He did not want to tell her he knew about the baby or about the large deposit, and he had good reasons for not revealing his knowledge. One reason was common sense for any investigator: no reason to tip your hand to potential suspects. Nikolai planned this conversation to be a fishing expedition, and he would be happy with anything he would learn. The more the better.

  Ekaterina poured the tea into two cups and sat across from Nikolai.

  “You know what this is about, don’t you?” Nikolai said, trying to sound confident. “And it’s better if you tell me your version of the story. I may be less likely to go to your boss about it then.”

  “Oh no,” she said looking at Nikolai. “I’ll get fired now.”

  “Fired? Why?”

  “Because what I did was not right. It was really wrong, actually, and I’m so sorry, but what choice did I have?”

  “People always have a choice.”

  “But not like that. I mean this whole thing happened way before Filip got the job, and I just wanted to be happy. Doesn’t everyone? Can you blame me for wanting to be happy and for being with the man I love even if others may not see it as right?”

  Nikolai said nothing. It was obvious that Ekaterina thought he knew more than he did, and he decided to let her talk.

  “But we’ll make it right, and everyone will see it. They will understand that this is how things should have been to begin with, but sometimes life is not perfect, right?”

  “When will you make it right?”

  “Soon,” Ekaterina said. “Very soon. We only have two more months to wait, and then we’ll be together, and we won’t have to hide anymore.” She paused, then counted aloud, “Not even two months. Seven and a half weeks, that’s all. Please don’t say anything to anyone else before then. If my dad finds out, he’ll kill us both. I just know he will.” Ekaterina’s expression was pleading, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “All right,” Nikolai said. “I won’t tell anyone else, but you have to explain how and why all this happened. Starting with everything that occurred before Filip became the property manager.” Nikolai hoped that Ekaterina’s obvious nervousness and his own overly confident tone would hide his complete ignorance of the events that Ekaterina was referring to.

  Ekaterina took a deep breath, then started talking again. “Look, my dad is really old-fashioned, and he would not approve of this relationship. Not unless we were married. But my mom and grandma are fine with all this. They understand, and they have been helping us. But I love my dad, and I want to be able to share my life with him again. He’s a good dad, and I never wanted to have secrets from him.”

  Somewhere down the hall, a door slammed, and Nikolai heard a female voice and a little girl’s giggles.

  Ekaterina got up from the table. “Tatiana’s here. Can we talk later? Please? And please don’t say anything to anyone?”

  “You need to tell me the truth. Now.”

  Ekaterina gave Nikolai a pleading look, but he wasn’t about to relent. Then, the kitchen door opened widely.

  “We need you, Ekaterina. Now,” Filip said. “The caterers are here to talk to you. And Tatiana has some ideas as well.”

  Ekaterina smiled widely and rushed out of the room. Filip walked in and poured himself a cup of tea.

  “I’m sure glad I don’t have to be involved in all this.” He gestured towards the door. “They are making such a big deal out of this party. I sure hope Roman appreciates it.” He took a sip of tea and put the cup down on the counter. “Music, food, decorations. They’ll need to talk to you, too, as soon as they figure out where they want this party to happen. After everything, Tatiana is taking security seriously, especially for this occasion.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  “Roman’s birthday party.” Filip finished his tea and walked over to the sink. He ran the water over the cup, closed the faucet, and turned to Nikolai. “But not a word to Roman. Tatiana wants this to be a surprise.”

  “You can count on me,” Nikolai said, walked out of the kitchen, and went to his room. He needed to wait for Ekaterina to complete the party preparations so he could finish their conversation. Meanwhile, he turned on his laptop and started researching anything he could find about Eduard Kolyanin. He tried the specialized databases he had access to through the agency, then the public archives, but he could not find much. And then, a small item from a local evening paper popped up on the screen. Nikolai read it. The piece was about a fire at a dacha -- a small summer house -- in the village of Balashikha. The fire was presumed to be caused by a faulty electric heater, and the only victim was a man named Eduard Kolyanin. Nikolai looked at the date of publication. It was four years old. The item did not list the victim’s age or any other information about him. It was possible that the victim simply happened to have the same name as the suspected kidnapper, but Nikolai did not believe in coincidences. He put in Kolyanin’s name into the death registry database and waited for the computer to process the request. When the screen flashed with the response, Nikolai saw one brief line, “No such entry.”

  He logged off and shut down his computer. His phone buzzed with a new message. It was from Karina. She was asking Nikolai to come see her at her apartment. She was no longer staying with Leonid and needed to talk. He called her back and arranged to meet her the next day. Karina did not tell Nikolai what she wanted to discuss with him. She simply said it was important.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Karina’s apartment looked like dozens of other apartments Nikolai had been to in Moscow: a tiny foyer, a small hallway, a bathroom, a kitchen, and two rooms. The apartment was small, especially considering that Grisha and Karina had two growing boys. Like most Muscovites, they were used to small crowded spaces. The small size was more than made up for by the love and care that was apparent in the meticulously careful paint job of the ceiling and the walls, by the tastefully chosen framed photographs of Karina, Grisha, and the kids in the foyer, and by the overall cleanliness and tidiness of the place.

  “It’s nice to be back home,” Karina said. “Not the same here without Grisha, but I have to get used to it.” She sighed. “At least that’s what everyone tells me.”

  “Where are the boys? I was looking forward to meeting them.”

  “Leonid took them to the zoo. He says they need a distraction.” She shrugged. “Maybe, he’s right.”

  They walked into the kitchen. Karina filled a teapot with water and put it on the stove to boil.

  “It’s a nice place,” Nikolai said. The floor was a shiny parquet floor that made the small kitchen look unusual. The rest of the kitchen was standard: a refrigerator in the corner next to the balcony door, clean white countertops made of some sort of hard plastic that many apartments had, cabinets with wooden doors painted a bright yellow, and shelves above the cabinets. The overhead lamp was simple and functional: three light bulbs inside a white plastic lampshade open and wide at the bottom, no doubt designed to provide as much lighting as possible.

  “You like samovars, don’t you?” Nikolai asked. He was looking at four samovars of different sizes on the top shelf.

  “My grandparents had them,” she said. “These samovars survived the Red Army during the 1917 revolution and the Nazi bombing in 1942. To save these samovars, my grandparents buried them in the yard during the bombing. They always said I could sell them in a time of need.”

  “They must be quite valuable,” Nikolai said.

  Karina nodded. “I think so. But I would never sell them. They are the only memory I have of grandparents. Grisha liked them, too.”

  The water boiled, and Karina poured two cups. She sat down across from Nikola
i.

  “What did you want to talk about?” Nikolai asked.

  Karina shuffled in her seat, took a sip of her tea, and then started talking, her voice soft, almost a whisper. “Something wasn’t right about Grisha in the last few months. He would wake up in the middle of the night and wander around the apartment. A couple of times, I found him smoking on the balcony.”

  “Was he sick?”

  “I doubt it. Not too long ago, he was going through his medical tests to renew his driver’s license, and they all came out fine.”

  “What do you think he was worried about?”

  “That’s what I keep asking myself. I don’t know. His job was good, our relationship was good, the kids are fine.” Karina paused. “Leonid would always come visit, and that relationship was fine, too. But then, over the last few months, it’s like Grisha became a different person. Around the kids, he would still put on a happy face and do things with them, and he tried to be the same way with me. But I could tell he was different. It’s like he was trying to hide something.” She looked at Nikolai. “Something was very wrong, Nikolai. I just know it. I wish I asked him more about it. I tried, but he would always avoid that conversation. Can you help me find out what it was?”

  “I will definitely try.”

  The next morning, Nikolai took the familiar road to Sunny Meadows. The same squat houses along the way, the same haphazard selections of crops growing behind modest fences, the same makeshift hothouses, and the same potholes on the road. The trip felt quicker this time, and soon Nikolai was turning off the paved road at the Sunny Meadows sign to continue on to the primitive road, its many potholes filled with mud and rain water.

  He slowed down as he came up to the four guard towers and parked at the edge of the empty lot in front of the prison. Before going inside, he called Elena in the forensics lab.

  “Any news for me?”

  “Some, but I need to do more tests to be sure,” Elena said, her voice bright and cheerful.

  “What do you have so far?”

  “So far, we have a 90% probability of paternity based on the comparison of DNA samples on the cigarette butt and on the spoon.”

  “The man is the father, then, right?”

  “In scientific terms, he is not excluded as the father of this baby. But I need to do a few more tests to be sure. I wanted to give you some results soon, but there are many more markers I need to test for. I’ll call you back in a few days.”

  “Thanks, Elena.”

  Nikolai clicked off, got out of the car, and walked to the prison entrance. The same bored-looking officer was there. He recognized Nikolai, greeted him curtly, and Nikolai followed the same routine of signing in, waiting for the escort, and finally entering the visitation room. This time, Nikita was already there, seated at the metal table. He looked even more muscular than the last time Nikolai saw him, and Nikolai wondered if Nikita spent all his time working out. It was not a bad way to pass the time under the circumstances.

  Nikolai put a carton of cigarettes on the table in front of him.

  “That’s a nice ice-breaker,” Nikita said. “Thanks. What can I do for you?”

  “Filip Samoilov. What’s his story?” Nikolai asked.

  Nikita pulled the cigarettes closer to him, nodded, and started talking. “Filip used to manage Roman’s stores. He did all the financial paperwork, or at least signed off on it. When an unexpected audit came --” Nikita chuckled. “As if there is any other kind, right? The auditors found a lot of problems, and a lot of money going where it shouldn’t have been going. At that point, Filip had a choice. Not officially, of course, but still a choice. He could blame Roman for these wrongdoings since Roman was the owner and hope to get a reduced sentence, but that was risky. Most likely, the auditors would only use his testimony as an opportunity to put both him and Roman in prison for a long time. Conspiracy sentences are long. So, Filip made the other choice.”

  “What was the other choice?”

  “He took all the blame, claiming that Roman was not involved. As a result, Filip’s sentence was magically reduced to one year. No doubt, Roman paid off the judge.”

  “And now Filip is working for Roman again, so things are fine between them. Filip has no reason to have Roman killed, right?”

  Nikita nodded. “That’s how I see it. Besides, even if he had a reason, Filip wouldn’t have to guts to do it. He isn’t after Roman. And in case you’re still wondering, neither am I. I was mad as hell at him, but I’m over it. My sentence is short. I’ll be out soon enough, so I have no desire to kill anyone. I’m not my own enemy.”

  “Makes sense,” Nikolai said.

  “Everything I do makes sense,” Nikita said. “I’m a sensible guy.”

  “What do you know about Kolyanin?”

  “Eduard Kolyanin? He was one of Leonid’s buddies years ago. They started some businesses together, then those businesses failed. Leonid and Kolyanin ended up owing lots of money, but Kolyanin got out of it. He’s in a much better place now.”

  “In a better place? You mean...” Nikolai hesitated.

  Nikita chuckled. “Not what you think. He lives on Malta now. He bought a place there and moved with his family. Leonid was not happy. Kolyanin did not earn most of that money. He was siphoning company money into his personal accounts. That’s how he was able to afford the move.”

  “So, he didn’t die in a house fire then,” Nikolai said.

  “Die in a fire?” Nikita chuckled. “That was a good one. The police are so easy to fool. Or buy. Or both. That fire at the dacha was a story. Unclaimed dead bodies are not that hard to get nowadays. Throw one in your dacha, add some gasoline, and there you have it. Alibi for the rest of your life.” He smiled at Nikolai but only with his mouth. His eyes remained unchanged, focused and serious. “Before the authorities found the corpse and started investigating the death of the fake Kolyanin, the real one was already at his beach paradise, sipping cocktails and watching the whole circus at his old dacha on TV.” He paused, then added. “Did you happen to notice the date of the fire? It was the middle of July. And the report said the fire was due to a faulty heater. Seriously? A faulty heater? Why would anyone use a heater at the hottest time of the year?”

  “So, if the real Kolyanin is now living abroad,” Nikolai started.

  “Under a different name, of course,” Nikita said.

  “Right.” Nikolai nodded. “Then, somebody is using his name and his identity to get phone numbers, open bank accounts, or do whatever else they need.”

  “Sure. And I wouldn’t be surprised if the real Kolyanin is getting the cut off this identity deal.”

  The guard rapped on the glass, signaling it was time to end the conversation.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  By the time Nikolai got to his car, he had a thought that at first seemed too obvious to be helpful, but he still wanted to pursue it. He was a strong believer that evidence was not the only path to results. The absence of evidence could provide some leads as well, and that’s what he was going to investigate. He pulled up all contact information from Pyotr’s cellphone. Many contacts were probably Pyotr’s family and friends, those were the names Nikolai did not recognize and would need to look into later. The rest were people associated with Roman. He scrolled up and down the list: Tatiana, Ekaterina, Filip, Vasily, Karina, Grisha, and the others. Like Nikolai had expected, one name was missing. He scrolled up and down the list again, making sure the person wasn’t placed out of order or under a nickname. He wasn’t. Leonid’s name was not on the list. Its absence from Pyotr’s contacts could mean that Pyotr had never called him, and it was possible but unlikely. What was more likely is that Pyotr wanted to make sure that nobody knew that he and Leonid ever talked on the phone. Nikolai put away the phone and the list and headed back to Roman’s estate. He had a few things to discuss with Roman, and he still needed to talk to Ekaterina.

  The first person Nikolai ran into when he got to Roman’s estate was Ekaterina. She was carr
ying three grocery bags.

  “Let me help,” he said, picked up two of the bags and walked into the kitchen with her.

  “Thank you,” she said when Nikolai placed the bags on the counter. She took tomatoes, cucumbers, and cabbage out of the bag and started washing them in the sink.

  “We need to talk,” Nikolai said.

  “Can it wait? I promised to make a big salad for tonight but got delayed with some other projects. And it’s getting late.”

  “Ekaterina, this could be a matter of life and death.” Nikolai knew the line sounded overly dramatic, but remembering all those over-the-top romance novels in Ekaterina’s room, he decided that Ekaterina may respond to his questions better with the extra drama thrown in.

  “What?” She dropped a tomato in the sink and looked straight at Nikolai, her eyes wide with fear. “What do you mean?”

  “You need to tell me everything. And you need to be completely honest with me. So, let’s start with this. How did you get a job here? Did you go through the employment agency?”

  “I tried,” Ekaterina said. “But they wouldn’t refer me.”

  “You didn’t get any offers at all?”

  “No.”

  “You’re lying. I checked with the agency, and there was no record of your applying or of their attempts to find placement for you.” Nikolai was bluffing but was quite confident Ekaterina would not catch on. “Tell me the truth. What happened?”

  “When I told them I wanted to work for Roman, they wouldn’t hire me.”

  “Why did you want to work for Roman?”

  “I wanted to be close to Pavel. By then, he’d been working here for a while, and he was pretty friendly with the previous property manager, and he knew I’m very conscientious and hard-working. And I can cook really well. So, I got hired, without the agency. At first, Pavel and I really tried to hide that we knew each other, and now we got used to not talking while we’re at work. It’s more professional that way. That’s all. That’s the whole story. ”